writer in the dark

i.v.w. / 19 / they / aries / poet? (sideblog)

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

…the honey-bearing chaos of high summer.

Kenneth Rexroth, from Sacramental Acts: The Love Poems; “On What Planet,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

[acquafloreale-deactivated202406]

“girl sweetvoiced”

— Sappho, tr. by Anne Carson from “If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho,” (via honeyfleshed)

[lachantefleurie]

““And the language of my landscape is primarily that of the forests, which unceasingly bursts with life.””

— – Edouard Glissant, Caribbean Discourse

[soracities]

“I began to understand nature as something seamed and deep into which one plunged, going dark.”

— “III.”, The Beauty of the Husband, Anne Carson (via salemwitchtrials)

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

Lisa Marie Basile, from “Light Magic for Dark Times,” published c. 2018

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

Remind yourself what makes you feel alive and electric, what makes sense to your life as a whole,

Lisa Marie Basile, from “Light Magic for Dark Times,” published c. 2018 (via violentwavesofemotion)

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

…the honey-bearing chaos of high summer.

Kenneth Rexroth, from Sacramental Acts: The Love Poems; “On What Planet,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

[isabellavanwest]

[isabellavanwest]

[isabellavanwest]

[dearestvita-deactivated20221122]

“But I think one day I will,—tell somebody, one person, something—the truth, just once,—just to see how it feels.”

— Rosamond Lehmann, from Dusty Answer

[quaintobsessions]

The Honey Taste of Chaos

“What does it mean?” you asked me, as a voice like the sun at midnight rode circles around us in the dark.

It was a different bed. It was a different you. But my stomach felt the same. Raw with leaving, raw with staying.

I always tried to explain the best I could. But whenever time is cruel, I go looking for the face of a past us.

Why return to what we left behind to walk the streets alone and unsafe? What we miss, what we long for, is it

the one we once had, or is it a revenant? Speaking like a promise, tapping at the window aching for breath?

This warmth. Blood flowing where it yearns to go, rivers flowing under bridges burned years past. Last night

it was three a.m. when you told me you were happy not to know what it means; contented to keep going

as the roof blew off our world again, in a whirl of music, with the midnight sun illuminating our faces.

[gaylortruther]

“Two eyes the colour of anger, a ring of cold, a belt of blood–”

— Octavio Paz, from ‘Central Park’, A Tree Within (trans. Eliot Weinberger)

[softvelvetwords]

I love you

I’m sorry the words don’t roll smoothly off my tongue

In a poetic renaissance

But you make me feel infinite

And new

Like I can accomplish anything

And everything

Like a person

Childlike

And mature

In the same breath

[sunsetquotes]

“Sometimes, home has a heartbeat.”

— Beau Taplin; home.

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

“Lips of honey, eyes of fire.”

— Meleager, tr. by Peter Whigham, from Greek Anthology; “Epigrams,”

[isabellavanwest]

hey everyone! i started a gofundme for my summer project, which is creating first aid kits & giving them out to houseless people in portland, oregon. this is something i am really excited for and passionate about so i would love your support. you can read more information about my project on the gofundme page. please donate if you can and reblog if you want! your kindness is appreciated!!!