What I'm learning on (and off) campus...

It's easy to get lost in a sea of intellectuals... or idiots. A teacher of mine once said that anything a writer is trying to convey has probably already been said before, so you have to find a different voice. Well, here I am... trying to get my own word out.

[wednesdaywrote-deactivated20260]

[fishmonkeycow]

Street moments // instagram.com/fishmonkeycow/

[presentsoul]

These Warm Nights.

[neoyorzapoteca]

The Woman Dies | Aoko Matsuda | Granta Magazine

[filmforwomen]

never not thinking about the end of poetry by ada limón

[filmforwomen]

like….. yeah……

[luthienne]

Olga Broumas, Beginning with O; “Love Lines”

[typodescript]

[text ID: the water is tender, green, curls /softly innocent, a lazy noose in the sunlight /i loved you, i know /now, water swells /wood, lungs, i loved you, i go /end ID]

[weltenwellen]

Mary Oliver, “White Flowers”, Devotions

[relatablepoetryandquotes]

“I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world.” - Albert Camus, The Outsider

[maldarchive]

RESTORATION

To bring you back: not as you were then but as I willed you to be. Deadwood, tongue-like, drawn out. If I was to write a poem of love now it would be striking, incomplete, and yet, what else can I do with this body? I am trying to piece ours together: from the sound of it to the thought, expendable, worn, I don’t know what, all I want is for you to return so that the skin of my life swells again with consistency. I want you not for the largeness of your breath. I want you for your arms, legs, neck, etc. Simple anatomy. I want you bit by bit, broken apart, the smallest ear first, your fingers last. But more than that I want you: gone, removed from me, dislodged from the dream. Whittled down, soft as stone. Like apples picked. Or someone else’s fault. I want you mine or not at all and either way, to pass the night with ease. That makes my agenda brief.

[luthienne]

Mary Oliver, Blue Horses; “Blueberries”

[sunsetpinks-deactivated20220109]

inspired by posts like this one  e.e cummings,”i carry your heart with me”// margaret atwood, selected poems (1965-1975) // virginia woolf, “night and day”

[the1975music]

[relatablepoetryandquotes]

“I love the rain. I love how it softens the outlines of things. The world becomes softly blurred, and I feel like I melt right into it.” - Hanamoto Hagumi, Honey and Clover 

[soracities]

“I’m sorry love isn’t a flower. I’m sorry my heart is a sinkhole. It swallowed a freezer once. You were right to go. But come back.”

— Kim Addonizio, from ‘Please’, Wild Nights: New and Selected Poems

[chaoticambivalence]

“Memory is all we are. Moments and feelings, captured in amber, strung on filaments of reason. Take a man’s memories and you take all of him. Chip away a memory at a time and you destroy him as surely as if you hammered nail after nail through his skull.”

— Mark Lawrence (via quotemadness)

[no-passaran]

“English is a global language because English speakers have been global conquerors. It’s not about the quality of English nouns and verbs, it’s about the quality of English guns and money.”

— “A Linguist Explains Emoji and What Language Death Actually Looks Like”, by Gretchen McCulloch at The Toast (via waitingformycoffin)

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

La deuxième nuit (Eric Pauwels, 2016)