Misplaced Lens Cap
Xuebing Du
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
One Nice Bug Per Day
Keni
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
NASA
wallacepolsom
Today's Document
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
noise dept.
roma★
JBB: An Artblog!
will byers stan first human second
art blog(derogatory)
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DEAR READER
JVL
No title available
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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@jejuneatelier
Since You Can’t Spell Disaster Without Desire
Find yourself a lover who insists on sitting in the theater long after the film is over, after the credits have crawled past gaffer and wrangler and grip. The movie’s about a newly minted woman spy who saves the planet from a terrifying weapon that threatens all of humanity. In act three, the final scene, she takes the night train home to D.C. lugging her body like a suitcase full of…
Sadness
I feel sadness. I don’t know how emptiness can make me feel so full, so overwhelmed. I am overcome with grief. I want to submit to this sadness, yield, comply to its demands. What does it want from me? In times like this my feelings fracture, and like magnets they attach themselves to the plausible root cause for their existence. An effect longs for its cause, I suppose. I want to sink, not…
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Are you?
Are you thinking of me? You and I know each other well.We both have our secrets. We both have our tells. I only hide from you what I hide from myself. When you fall asleep do you count backward from 12? 12 years ago… in a crowded room.11 years ago… under an autumn moon.10 years ago… never felt too soon. 9, 8, 7, 65 years ago I came alive in your eyes. 4 years ago I still wanted to try. 3 years…
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Variation on a Theme by Elizabeth Bishop
Start with loss. Lose everything. Then lose it all again. Lose a good woman on a bad day. Find a better woman, then lose five friends chasing her. Learn to lose as if your life depended on it. Learn that your life depends on it.Learn it like karate, like riding a bike. Learn it, master it.Lose money, lose time, lose your natural mind.Get left behind, then learn to leave others. Lose andlose…
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Of a Certain Friendship
Odd how you entered my house quietly,Quietly left again.While you stayed you ate at my table,Slept in my bed.There was much sweetness,Yet little was done, little said.After you left there was pain,Now there is no more pain. But the door of a certain room in my houseWill be always shut.Your fork, your plate, the glass you drank from,The music you played,Are in that roomWith the pillow where last…
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The Leal
The friends I made have slipped and strayed, And who’s the one that cares?A trifling lot and best forgot— And that’s my tale, and theirs. Then if my friendships break and bend, There’s little need to cryThe while I know that every foe Is faithful till I die. Dorothy Parker
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Somebody’s Song
This is what I vow;He shall have my heart to keep,Sweetly will we stir and sleep, All the years, as now.Swift the measured sands may run;Love like this is never done;He and I are welded one: This is what I vow. This is what I pray:Keep him by me tenderly;Keep him sweet in pride of me, Ever and a day;Keep me from the old distress;Let me, for our happiness,Be the one to love the…
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[The cry of the cicada]
[The cry of the cicada]
The cry of the cicadaGives us no signThat presently it will die. Matsuo Basho Translation by William George Aston
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Love Is a Flame
Love Is a Flame
Love is a flame that burns with sacred fire, And fills the being up with sweet desire; Yet, once the altar feels love’s fiery breath, The heart must be a crucible till death. Say love is life; and say it not amiss, That love is but a synonym for bliss. Say what you will of love—in what refrain, But knows the heart, ‘tis but a word for pain. George Marion McClellan
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Sara Page,
Who schooled you in the Incendiary Arts?Trained you to wield helplessness?You, 17, full of hip-switch and giggleadrenaline-high with the judgmentof a matchbook.Who taught youthe Craft of Damsel? How to snatch breathfrom the air?He grabbedyour arm, not knowing it was made of fireand fuel. It’s since been a century fraughtwith reverbed 911 screams.Cities still burn.Your comfort still kills. For all…
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Sara Page,
Who schooled you in the Incendiary Arts?Trained you to wield helplessness?You, 17, full of hip-switch and giggleadrenaline-high with the judgmentof a matchbook.Who taught you the Craft of Damsel? How to snatch breathfrom the air?He grabbedyour arm, not knowing it was made of fireand fuel. It’s since been a century fraughtwith reverbed 911 screams.Cities still burn.Your comfort still kills. For…
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Compulsively Allergic to the Truth
Compulsively Allergic to the Truth
I’m sorry I was late. I was pulled over by a cop for driving blindfolded with a raspberry-scented candle flickering in my mouth. I’m sorry I was late. I was on my way when I felt a plot thickening in my arm. I have a fear of heights. Luckily the Earth is on the second floor of the universe. I am not the egg man. I am the owl who just witnessed another tree fall over in the forest of your life. I…
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If My Voice Is Not Reaching You
If my voice is not reaching you add to it the echo— echo of ancient epics And to that— a princess And to the princess—your beauty And to your beauty— a lover’s heart And in the lover’s heart a dagger Afzal Ahmed Syed
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You’re in my head
I keep you in the farthest reaches of my mind, beneath the basement bunker, fortified, with brick and steel and stone. outside of that a moat sits, drowning every memory remnant, lest they penetrate my prison like ghosts. there is no light in this tiny chamber, I can’t see your face, your eyes I used to gaze through (with my x-ray vision) now blinded and erased. I don’t venture to this…
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What Do We Do—Now
What Do We Do—Now
—after Gwendolyn Brooks
We mourn, we bless, we blow, we wail, we wind—down, we sip, we spin, we blind, we bend, bow & hem. We hip, we blend, we bind, we shake, we shine, shine. We lips & we teeth, we praise & protest. We document & we drama. We demand & we flow, fold & hang loose. We measure & we moan, mourn & whine low. & we live, and we breathe. & some of the time, we don’t.
Tonight, I am…
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You are perfect for me
You are perfect for me
because you’re psychic no one else could understand me the way you
do and
I say Drink Me
I say it to you silently but it calls forth in me
the water for you the water you asked for
Rebecca Wolff
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[The grass is beneath my head]
[The grass is beneath my head]
The grass is beneath my head; and I gaze at the thronging stars in the night.
They fall… they fall… I am overwhelmed, and afraid.
Each leaf of the aspen is caressed by the wind, and each is crying.
And the perfume of invisible roses deepens the anguish.
Let a strong mesh of roots feed the crimson of roses upon my heart; and then fold over the hollow where all the pain was.
F. S. Flint
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