Sad but Rad

my poetry blog: www.grosectrue.tumblr.com

[godshideouscreation]

[primulaceas]

Sylvia Plath, "Elm." Ariel

[kafkabot-deactivated20240906]

"I am dirty, Milena, endlessly dirty, that is why I make such a fuss about cleanliness. None sing as purely as those in deepest hell; it is their singing we take for the singing of angels."

Letters to Milena, Franz Kafka

[metamorphesque]

— Anne Sexton, Imitations of Drowning

[unexplained-events]

The Black Phooka

The black Phooka is a shape-shifting creature from old Celtic mythology. It is a benign but mischievous creature. Their normal appearance is similar to that of a cat (its tail will twitch when its angry much like a cat), but this creature can take the form of horses, goats, cats, dogs, hares and even humans. No matter what shape they take, their fur is always dark.

They mostly prefer to take the form of a pony and will try to entice humans to take a ride on their back. If a someone does get on, they will give the rider a wild and terrifying journey before dropping the unlucky person back at the place they were taken from.

While they’re mostly mischievous creatures, they’re also known to be benevolent and will help farmers with their harvest and field work. Due to this, they are associated with Samhain, a Goidelic harvest festival.

The character Puck from A Midsummer Night’s Dream is based off of this creature.

SOURCE for pic on right

[shisasan]

𝙼𝚊𝚢 𝟷𝟿, 𝟷𝟿𝟸𝟸 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣 𝙺𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟺-𝟷𝟿𝟸𝟹

[ID: May 19. He feels more deserted with a second person than when alone. If he is together with someone, this second person reaches out for him and he is helplessly delivered into his hand. If he is alone, all mankind reached out for him-but the innumerable outstretched arms become entangled with one another and no one reaches to him. END ID]

[2up2dwn-deactivated20231026]

flowers for may

[thegirlthatcriesacademia]

Alexandra Levasseur, Feminine Mystery Of Being One With Nature // Pablo Neruda, The Essential Neruda: Selected Poems

[metamorphesque]

all of my devotion turns violent

Ada Limón, Jen Mazza, Japanese Breakfast, Denis Sarazhin, Anaïs Nin, Louise Bourgeois, Pablo Neruda, Joseph-Désiré Court, Crimson Peak (2015)

buy me a ☕

[jinxproof]

He Cong | © Leslie Zhang  Marie Claire China (September 2019)

[soracities]

Oliver Herford, “I Heard a Bird Sing”

[jvtng]

“(a meeting in a cafe, a letter eagerly torn open, a burst of laughter revealing the teeth, a tone of the voice, an intonation on the phone, a style of handwriting in a letter, a parting in a train station, and each time we say that we do not know, that we do not know if and when and where we will meet again)”

— Jacques Derrida, The Work of Mourning (via bergmans-ghost)

[shisasan]

Rainer Maria Rilke, Rilke’s Book of Hours [originally published 1905]

[hippiedreamin-deactivated201606]

[mentaltimetraveller]

Gerardo Vizmanos Two Boys, 2018

[brok3np4radise-deactivated20250]

Travel and tell no one. Live a true love story and tell no one. Live happily and tell no one. People ruin beautiful things.

Khalil Gibran

[jvtng]

“But you are uncommon. Every moment we have spent together is a shining stone in the bowl of my skull. I am greedy, and so I take them out and look at them now and then,”

— Becca De La Rosa, “Letter from Juniper” (via bergmans-ghost)