.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅Musings and diary fragments by Elena T.
MINE: DIARY | POEMS | PROSE | READINGS | WEBWEAVES
Cosimo Galluzzi

@theartofmadeline
sheepfilms
we're not kids anymore.

Andulka
Cosmic Funnies
Claire Keane
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
NASA
wallacepolsom
Three Goblin Art
Show & Tell

Origami Around

oozey mess
styofa doing anything
Jules of Nature
Peter Solarz

izzy's playlists!
taylor price
Game of Thrones Daily

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Russia
seen from Canada
seen from Taiwan

seen from United States
seen from Russia

seen from South Africa

seen from China
seen from Italy

seen from United States
seen from Mexico
seen from Singapore

seen from Sweden
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
@echo-temporis
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅Musings and diary fragments by Elena T.
MINE: DIARY | POEMS | PROSE | READINGS | WEBWEAVES
The trees of my childhood were more a father to me than any man I ever knew. They were strong and gentle and constant. Their strong arms held me without tiring, whether I was crying or smiling or daydreaming. I miss them, more than I have missed any man I have known.
Green-wood Cemetary on 35mm
Whatever darkness resides in you
Let me sit there in it too
We don’t have to speak, we don’t have to stay
But let me love you in this way
and when you’re done with all this night
Let me show you rays of light
Broken conversations
A meal carefully prepared and dropped on the floor
You made me feel like I was hard to love
As if my flowers refused
To accept water that was never given to them
As if I was wrong for being thirsty at all
But it was you with the flaw
It was always you
I’ve always been
an in between.
Indigo smiles
and crimson tears.
Often here
and never there.
I’m the fool at the beginning
and end of every journey.
And I’m uncertain
of where to
place
my next step.
Tourist, Sonia Feldman
writing from the wreckage ✨
tender teeth, soft claws.
poetry • survival magic • zines
more: https://linktr.ee/raelarkpoetry
🦋
Stagnation is a constant.
Tethered to a single straight line
That doesn't stray from its path,
And never, ever fluctuates.
In the corner of my eye,
There is a hummingbird moth,
An outlier amongst the bees,
Nurturing the daisies.
It bridges the gap of night and day;
After every spin of the earth,
Its moon remains the same—
A serene, fixed routine.
So then, if the moth is faithful,
Unmoving in its ways,
Why does it oscillate?
What compels it to change?
Perhaps I will never know.
I have been stagnant far too long:
A path that never seesaws,
A line that never bends.
Is there no grace found in patterns?
Repetition is all I ever sought.
But the moth lands on my hand,
Begging me to evolve.
Marina Tsvetaeva, from a letter to Vera Zvagyntseva, wr. c. February 1920
Sun Light In Empty Windows
There is only sunlight in empty windows
Where others have made their way
Remembering all the forgotten answers
Of why they could not stay
Rust now clings to all known wishes
Dust keeps gathering on window sills
There is a kitchen of broken pieces of dishes
And one couch tainted with rings of coffee brown
Outside a swing has turned into a wind chime
Where young ones once used to be
Some may ask when our time left us
In those old days of the last century
Merriam Coates
a friend
if there is nothing to tear you apart
you invent it. set the bread in the trap/tie your hands behind your back
you build it. sitting in the gutter/gutting apart your part-time lover
you know it never ends/unless you let it
if you left yourself whole
you'd regret it.
Janet Fitch, White Oleander
Alicia Ostriker, from The Imaginary Lover; “In the twenty-fifth year of marriage, it goes on”
his tongue
is not his tongue
it is a question
he is asking
here?
or here?
or here?
i answer with my hips
with my hands
with the sound
i cannot hold back