word in hand

the poetry of flight

August 28, 2014 at 11:55pm
1,074 notes
Reblogged from nevver
 

 

August 20, 2014 at 9:29pm
272 notes
Reblogged from petrichour

I may never be happy, but tonight I am content. Nothing more than an empty house, the warm hazy weariness from a day spent setting strawberry runners in the sun, a glass of cool sweet milk, and a shallow dish of blueberries bathed in cream. When one is so tired at the end of a day one must sleep, and at the next dawn there are more strawberry runners to set, and so one goes on living, near the earth. At times like this I’d call myself a fool to ask for more…

— Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath (via girlinlondon)

(Source: petrichour, via girlinlondon)

9:28pm
87,417 notes
Reblogged from razorshapes

(Source: razorshapes, via wrongingmyrights)

August 12, 2014 at 12:31pm
39,924 notes
Reblogged from gnossienne

August 4, 2014 at 4:09pm
1,220 notes
Reblogged from nevver
Under the Volcano, Wallace Stevens

Under the Volcano, Wallace Stevens

(via nevver)

July 21, 2014 at 4:10pm
1 note

from Adrienne Rich’s “Twenty-One Love Poems”

IX

Your silence today is a pond where drowned things live
I want to see raised dripping and brought into the sun.
It’s not my own face I see there, but other faces, 
even your face at another age.
Whatever’s lost there is needed by both of us - 
a watch of old gold, a water-blurred fever chart,
a key…Even the silt and pebbles of the bottom
deserve their glint of recognition. I fear this silence,
this inarticulate life. I’m waiting
for a wind that will gently open this sheeted water
for once and show me what I can do
for you, who have often made the unnameable
nameable for others, even for me. 

July 14, 2014 at 3:51pm
1,183 notes
Reblogged from likeafieldmouse
Egon Schiele - Young Trees with Support (1912)

Egon Schiele - Young Trees with Support (1912)

July 11, 2014 at 5:47pm
2,772 notes
Reblogged from lifeinpoetry

I can even say it,
though only once and it won’t

last: I want this.
I want this.

— Margaret Atwood, “There is only one of everything,” from Circe/Mud Poems (via kvtes)

(Source: lifeinpoetry, via kvtes)

July 1, 2014 at 1:19pm
42,524 notes
Reblogged from bleedwell

Do you still perform autopsies on conversations you had lives ago?

— Donte Collins    (via modernhepburn)

(Source: bleedwell, via modernhepburn)

June 25, 2014 at 11:03am
59,095 notes
Reblogged from honeychurch
 
Seamus Heaney’s last words: ”Don’t be afraid” (Noli timere), painted by Dublin artist Maser

 

Seamus Heaney’s last words: ”Don’t be afraid” (Noli timere), painted by Dublin artist Maser

(via ginandbird)