this summer we WALK IN A RANDOM DIRECTION and NEVER STOP

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Kiana Khansmith
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#extradirty

Origami Around
Cosmic Funnies

Janaina Medeiros
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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Keni
Mike Driver
NASA
we're not kids anymore.
Show & Tell
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@autumnfire3
this summer we WALK IN A RANDOM DIRECTION and NEVER STOP
Judi Dench and Ian McKellen in Macbeth (1976)
The mind commands the body and it obeys. The mind commands itself and meets resistance.
poems to read while having breakfast at the heartbreak hotel
I know I am but summer to your heart (Sonnet XXVII) by Edna St. Vincent Millay
What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why (Sonnet XLIII) by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Time does not bring relief (Sonnet II) by Edna St. Vincent Millay
I Am Not Yours by Sara Teasdale
[you fit into me] by Margaret Atwood
You by Carol Ann Duffy
Be Near Me by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
Blessed be the spectacle by Lev St. Valentine
You Are Tired (I Think) by E.E. Cummings
Hope you're well. Please don't read this by Lev St. Valentine
To Say Dark Things by Ingeborg Bachmann
Lilichka by Vladimir Mayakovski
Love and Hate by Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal
Sanctuary by Jean Valentine
the winter sun says fight by Peter Gizzi
The More Loving One by W. H. Auden
A Primer For The Small Weird Loves by Richard Siken
Dirty Valentine by Richard Siken
Morning by Frank O Hara
We Don't Know How To Say Goodbye by Anna Akhmatova
You'll Live, But I'll Not… by Anna Akhmatova
from “An Attempt at Jealousy” by Marina Tsvetaeva
The Last Toast by Anna Akhmatova
In Dream by Anna Akhmatova
Mad Girl's Love Song by Sylvia Plath
Talking In Bed by Philip Larkin
He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven by W.B. Yeats
La Belle Dame Sans Merci by John Keats
girl who's died a thousand times and soon will die a thousand more: I think I'm starting to feel a bit better actually
Goatsong, Leila Chatti
My interpretation of what the Abbott crew would post on insta
TWENTY OVER LIMIT, 2023, handwoven by Alexandra Jean Auger
24″ x 19.5″ acrylic and wool yarns on cotton warp
Joy Sullivan, “Before”, Instructions for Traveling West
[ Text ID:
Soon, you'll rise from a bed you won't make. You'll go downstairs. Cut potatoes into cubes, crack eggs, reach for salt. Next comes rain and work calls. The hot engine of day begins.
But for now, shadows are still pressed thick against the window. Morning is here but hasn't been announced. Grief has yet to spot you, though you hear her hunting. No one, yet, has spoiled the dark by singing. The air outside too cold, even for birds.
Pull me in, hold me tight Don’t let go, baby give me light
Christopher Bursk, Ovid at Fifteen, 2003
[ID: poem text reading,
“Ganymede? Hyacinth? How does a boy explain to his teammates he longs to be so dazzling a god couldn’t resist him? How does he tell his coach he’d like to be ethereal, a gold-fringed bird with no obligations except to wake the world?”
/end ID]
I picture it soft and I ache!