February 2012
61 posts
weisse wiese: the sciences sing a lullabye, by... →
weissewiese:
(via sharingpoetry)
Physics says: Go to sleep. Of course you’re tired. Every atom in you has been dancing the shimmy in silver shoes nonstop from mitosis to now. Quit tapping your feet. They’ll dance inside themselves without you. Go to sleep.
Geology says: It will be all right. Slow…
cartographe:
I’d like to be traced blindly by fingertips, because there are parts of faces you can only see by touching them. I’d like to know the names of every bone in the body - clavicle, atlas, radius - I’d teach them to you like they were poems embed them between your knuckles; store them in the knots of your spine.
“I thought I understood it, that I could grasp it. But I didn’t, not really. Only...”
– Anna, Like Crazy (via crookedconscience)
“The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.”
– Socrates (via penseesduchoeur)
weissewiese:
(via lavenderletters)
Buckled knees and whispering trees; give me poems and a fistful of the sea.
“I love you to pieces, distraction, etc.”
– J.D. Salinger (Franny and Zooey)
michelledylanhuynh asked: yo bitch, stole your camera + your tumblr layout looks shit. you need to do something about it. lUv yo0 lOnG tYm x0x0x0x
what the hell happened to my theme
“Language is my mother, my father, my husband, my brother, my sister, my whore,...”
– Stephen Fry (via weissewiese)
(2)
fleurishes:
Love is nontransferable,
yet we’re all walking around in debt up to our chest cavities
taking out loans like there are enough hearts to go around.
“The one thing I regret is that I will never have time to read all the books I...”
– Francoise Sagan (via fridaynightsaturdaymourning)
3 tags
being with you has made me want to write again
i want to scrawl dictionaries across my palm,
to have the ink of their pages seep through my pores
as i fall in love with words once again.
i have no religion other than words;
i believe in their power, their authority,
and i believe in you
and those things alone
careers advisor: what do you want to do when you're older?
me: middle aged british actors
careers advisor: what
me: what
‘Fire-Eater’
by Ted Hughes
Those stars are the fleshed forebears
Of these dark hills, bowed like labourers,
And of my blood.
The death of a gnat is a star’s mouth: its skin,
Like Mary’s or Semele’s, thin
As the skin of fire:
A star fell on her, a sun devoured her.
My appetite is good
Now to manage both Orion and Dog
With a mouthful of earth, my staple.
Worm-sort, root-sort, going where...
“I want
To do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.”
– Pablo Neruda (via horreure)