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To Change Everything, an anarchist appeal - The case for complete self-determination--a guide for the furious, the curious, and the pure of heart

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My look scrutinize your face like a travelling-day exhausted by spaces ! Written by: M. Moktar

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[wnq-writers]

“There are nights I don’t exist. There are days I fade away.”

faithfulfriend (via wnq-writers)

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I cried till the room filled with my tears. I took a last breath and let me drown !

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Sexting Tips With Henry Miller - Artparasites – How Art you today?

“Everybody says sex is obscene. The only true obscenity is war.” says Henry Miller in the Tropic of Cancer. If there is passion deep inside your soul, why wouldn’t you express it? We are granted tongue to speak and lick each other’s fears like cats pampering each other. The erotic talk involves all our senses …

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ABADDON

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edifice

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i took a stealthily kiss, while you were wetting your lips

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"The Leafless Garden -Mehdi Akhavan Sales " The cloud with its cold and damp skin Has embraced the heaven tightly; The leafless garden Is alone day and night With his pure and sad silence. His lyre is rain and his song is wind, His garment is of nudity cloak, And if another garment it must wear, Let his Warf and woof be woven by golden ray. It can grow or not grow, wherever he wants or doesn’t want; There is neither a gardener nor a passerby. The depressed garden Expects no spring. If his eye sheds no warm luster And on his face no leaf of smile grows, Who says the leafless garden is not beautiful? It relates the tale of fruits raising their heads to the heaven, and now lying in the base coffin in earth. The leafless garden, His laughter is tearful blood, Mounted for ever on his wild yellow stallion, It roams in autumn, the king of seasons.

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Dandelion- Mehdi Akhavan Sales

Dandelion!,

Say, from where you are coming, From where and what news you have brought? May you bring good tidings!, but In vain your roam Around my roof and door.

I don’t expect any news, Neither from a friend, nor from a native district; Go to such a place where ears and eyes watch you; Go to such a place where they expect you. Dandelion!, Everything is blind and deaf in my heart, Stop lurking here where the self is a stranger to is soul; You who have always brought bad news. I tell my heart: “You are false, o you are false, You are a cheat, you are a cheat.

Dandelion!, o, but … alas…, Did you leave with the wind? I’m speaking to you! Where did you go? o Is really any news anywhere still? Has a warm ash still survived In a hearth – I don’t covet a flame – but does a small still exist?

Dandelion!, The clouds all over the world Weep in my heart all the day and night.

*In Iran, especially in the Northeast, Dandelion is a bringer of good news.

[daliadoo]

An inspiring story that makes you write your first poem after reading it twice - Artparasites – How Art you today?

I woke up with this mood today. It’s cold and raining, just like in late November, although it’s still August. It’s almost a year now since I came back home and I don’t know anything about the future. I am still sensitive to rain, the years I spent in the Netherlands left a mark on … Read more

[secretsfromtut-deactivated20170]

Evolution of the dragonfly

Have faith in me, the nymph did cry, for one day you’ll see, I too shall fly.

Born in the water, but destined for more. Determined to dance, on the wind, not the shore.

With his eye on the prize, it prepares for the climb. Patiently planning for life beyond the rhyme.

When its finally time, He emerges from the lake. Gripping a branch he hardens leaving silence in his wake.

All those watching, thought this was his end. But would that be a story Id tell you my friend?

The nymph had grown, the most beautiful wings. He then found out, why the caged bird sings.

Taking flight against all odds, the next chapter without goodbye, reborn victoriously, the evolution of the dragonfly.

[kafkasapartment]

Moving On. Maggie Taylor. Archival pigmented digital print.

[brothaearth-deactivated20160627]

bad religion.

introduce me to a god who loves me back. i want to take steps south until i land at your lips & can erase our first kiss with hell water down my  throat & fire on my tongue. i don’t want to pray for us anymore. 

-c.x

[art-tension]

Surreal Self-Portraits by Noell S. Oszvald 

Flickr

Surrealist self-portraits of the Hungarian photographer Noell S. Oszvald aged only 22, and practicing photography since just one year.

Noell also refuses to write any descriptions below her photos, and sticks to captions only in order to leave the room for interpretation for the viewers. “I don’t want to tell people what to see in my images,” she says, “It shows what I wish to express but everyone is free to figure out what the picture says to them. It’s very interesting to read so many different thoughts about the same piece of work.” text: boredpanda / zeutch