CAPRICIOUS @ca-pric-ious - Tumblr Blog

musings on June

1. anne sexton (“the truth the dead know”), 2. anne sexton (“suicide note poem”), 3. mary oliver (“august”), 4. l.m. montgomery (“anne of the island”), 5. morgan parker (“the black saint & the sinner lady & the dead & the truth”), 6. found poems: sylvia plath / peter k. steinberg (“percy key among the narcissi”) artwork by hugo grenville

twiststreet

GQ published an unedited version of a David Lynch interview about happiness they’d only briefly quoted before (x)

derangedrhythms

I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I think I heard a spirit call my name.

Banana Yoshimoto, Kitchen, tr. Megan Backus

vizuart

Francisco Goya - Boy Staring at an Apparition, (1824–25)

metamorphesque

Jean-Paul Sartre to Simone de Beauvoir

weltenwellen

Danez Smith, from "summer, somewhere"

metamorphesque

tenderness is in the hands ― Carolyn Forché, L’Avventura (1960), Ocean Vuong, The White Ribbon (2009), Hart Crane, Gelatin Silver, Love (2009), Ingeborg Bachmann, Les amants du Pont-Neuf (1991), Sylvia Plath, Psycho (1960), Rod McKuen (stills by @forhandsthatsuffer)

lifeinpoetry

What does the God of your childhood look like? A soft apparition pigeoned in the attic,

a wound eating you one year at a time?

— Rachel McKibbens, from “outhouse,” published in Vinyl

metamorphesque

"To forget, to forget ...", Vahan Teryan (translated by Tathev Simonyan)

weltenwellen

Andrea Gibson, Lord of the Butterflies

dionyrtal

“Does it not feel good? Filling yourself with pleasures unspoken and undreamed of?” Dion Anja, from Vertigo Peaks (2024)

Love and Pain (also known as the Vampire) by Edvard Munch (1895)

feral-ballad

Caitlin Bailey, from Solve for Desire: Poems; “To G, after the party”

[Text ID: “I wonder / what it would have felt like to / have a choice, to choose love, / to hold anything with both hands. / It’a taken me this long / to say I want I want I want,”]

freshmoviequotes

Journey to Italy (1954)

the-ghost-king

tim o'brien, "the things they carried"

showings

“You, God, who live next door— If at times, through the long night, I trouble you with my urgent knocking— this is why: I hear you breathe so seldom. I know you’re all alone in that room. If you should be thirsty, there’s no one to get you a glass of water. I wait listening, always. Just give me a sign! I’m right here. As it happens, the wall between us is very thin. Why couldn’t a cry from one of us break it down? It would crumble easily, it would barely make a sound.”

— Rainer Maria Rilke, tr. Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy, “Du, Nachbar Gott, wenn ich dich manchesmal” | Rilke’s Book of Hours: Love Poems to God