poems etc.

20 | she/her | original works tagged with “epeolate”

[epeolate]

i’m a new literature/poetry blog!

if you follow me and post quotes/literature/anything writing related, i’ll definitely follow back :) 

[epeolate]

njideka akunyili crosby, the beautyful ones, #7 

[epeolate]

“The difference between poetry and rhetoric is being ready to kill yourself instead of your children.”

— Audre Lorde, Power. 1978

[epeolate]

on being ordinary

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to be exceptional. You do not need to build Rome, or burn it, or fiddle as it burns, or fiddle at all. You need not wage war or wager peace.

You need only sit with me, here. The stars are resting on rooftops and trees. They are as ordinary as ourselves. People constructed legends about them, but they are simple and straightforward. They will disappear come morning, and we will stay here. 

Some lights we see are only remnants of their former selves, burning for a final time. If even they can be ephemeral, then surely so can we.

You need not be great. Just sit here. Let the early morning hold you as it erases all the stars. 

[theoptia]

Anne Sexton, from The Complete Poems; “The Big Heart”

Text ID: the artery of my soul has been severed / and soul is spurting out upon them, / bleeding on them,

[voirlvmer]

“A thinking woman sleeps with monsters / The beak that grips her, she becomes.”

— Adrienne Rich, in Snapshots of a Daughter-in-Law: Poems, 1954-1962 (via minima–moralia)

[anintimacy]

How light the raindrop’s contents are.  How gently the world touches me.

Wislawa Szymborska, from View with a Grain of Sand: Selected Poems (via niimph)

[quotefeeling]

When I am silent, I have thunder hidden inside.

Rumi (via quotefeeling)

[thoughtkick]

“Love is what makes you smile when you’re tired.”

— Paulo Coelho

[epeolate]

Wislawa Szymborska.

[weltenwellen]

Wisława Szymborska, tr. by Clare Cavanagh and Stanisław Barańczak, from “Experiment”, Map: Collected and Last Poems

[epeolate]

we take shelter in the moment between question                                    and answer. we slip into the moment's hunger and we savor it like wine.

epeolate

[epeolate]

In the desert I saw a creature, naked, bestial, Who, squatting upon the ground, Held his heart in his hands, And ate of it. I said, “Is it good, friend?” “It is bitter—bitter,” he answered; “But I like it “Because it is bitter, “And because it is my heart.”

Stephen Crane, In the Desert. 1895. From The Little Black Riders and Other Lines. 

[holyisthenameofmyruthlessaxe]

The desire to be loved is the last illusion: Give it up and you will be free.”

Selected Poems II: 1976 - 1986, ‘A Sunday Drive’ by Margaret Atwood (via decreation)

[holyisthenameofmyruthlessaxe]

I’m falling into the flesh, into the sadness of the body that cannot give up its habits, habits of the hands and skin.

Selected Poems II: 1976 - 1986, ‘Keep’ by Margaret Atwood (via decreation)

[sweetestsecrets]

“From tiny experiences we build cathedrals.”

— Orhan Pamuk, The Art of Fiction No. 187 (via theparisreview)

[epeolate]

“You remember too much, my mother said to me recently. Why hold onto all that? And I said, Where can I put it down?”

Anne Carson