Blank Verses

Apr 22

(Source: steinfield, via theflatearthsociety)

Philip Larkin by Brittany Cerullo. [Link]

One of my best friends favorites.

We settle down on the couch, plastic-covered. There are no objects in view; they have been hidden behind the cabinet doors. His living room is like a furniture showroom, just furniture and nothing else, only a vase full of fake flowers. He is, I realize, one of those people who never takes out the photographs that come with the frames.

My friend, she used to have this painting in her room;

I stared at it laying on her bed, on the phone,

the last time I had my last conversation

with my ex-.

Apr 11

[video]

Mar 27

[video]

Mar 07

At Kudu my nose if sniffing a walloping whiff at the conversation next table.

“I got a Prebyterian church…these kids, who I have known since birth…well, I was always raised that…you have nice clothes, then you wear them, and I know these kids have nice clothes, so why aren’t they wearing them…?”

Have to stop now, restrain from villainizing this lady who looks harmless. I’m thinking the same thing I’ve thought since I saw my middle school pastor “get away with” sandals and jeans in the great palace of God, the basketball court of the private school that is also part of my parent’s church- what does image have to do with attendance?

Gray-haired man walks by to his own table, who once had two holes in the jeans he’s wearing, now finely stitched with red plaid. Oddly a hypocrite, I want to ask him where he got that done. I own a pair of jeans I find dear to me, and desire their repair. Does asking him where he got them fixed compromise the way I feel generally, forget the question mark.

Mar 02

The Portland Review: While You Were Out -

portlandreview:

Voila called and said you’re passé, offering to return your lab coat and reading glasses; Azalea called and said you’re next to drop your petals to the ground, but have heart, there’s always next year as long as you keep your roots; the rain

called, said there’s no use hiding in the house, and…

Feb 27

[video]

The Portland Review: When I dream of a war -

portlandreview:

by Neesa Sonoquie

What I am saying is that my mind is eucalyptus

trees on a beach while I am sleeping through

another life. When I wake up crying invisible tears

I can tell you there are children in them. I know

this sounds sentimental, but frilly pink frosting on a cake

is…

Looks a lot like Stephanie.

(via ohhladymidnight)

Feb 13

walkwhilereading:

” We are lonesome animals. We spend all our life trying to be less lonesome. One of our ancient methods is to tell a story begging the listener to say - and to feel - “Yes, that’s the way it is, or at least, thats the way I feel it. You’re not as alone as you thought”“

-John Steinbeck, “In Awe of Words,” The Exonian, 75th Anniversary edition, Exeter University (1930)

Photo Bettmann/Corbis

Feb 10

Feb 08

“The beginning of love is the will to let those we love be perfectly themselves, the resolution not to twist them to fit our own image. If in loving them we do not love what they are, but only their potential likeness to ourselves, then we do not love them: we only love the reflection of ourselves we find in them.” — Thomas Merton, No Man Is an Island (via finiasgroove)

(via ktns311)

Feb 05

[video]