Those little papers you trade for your sins, what do you call them? anyone? no?
Jesus knew, Nick Flynn
Jules of Nature
Mike Driver
One Nice Bug Per Day
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

blake kathryn

@theartofmadeline
Cosimo Galluzzi

PR's Tumblrdome
ojovivo

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we're not kids anymore.

★

oozey mess

Andulka

titsay

ellievsbear

Janaina Medeiros
art blog(derogatory)
YOU ARE THE REASON
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@kentchovanec
Those little papers you trade for your sins, what do you call them? anyone? no?
Jesus knew, Nick Flynn
A god knocked unconscious by the billy club of a policeman at a demonstration
Prayer, Francis X Alarcon
See I only date hood. My last man never even met his father. Four women, six kids.
Some Instructions, Ross Gay
Where you see misunderstanding I see knuckles and teeth for sale in a storefront window.
Within Two Weeks, Ross Gay
My ancestors didn't emigrate. Why would anyone leave their native land?
What I Am, Terrance Hayes
"their devilish ceremonies and he barbaric way they buried their babies, oh, and those beautiful, beautiful baskets."
-Natalie Diaz
This was a great line, because it subtly, but effectively identified the disconnect between the two cultures. Rather than go on a rant about how differing experiences caused the lack of understanding, Diaz takes a slightly indirect route. In her portrayal of the white women's fixation with the baskets, she shows how they are completely oblivious to the far more serious issue, which is the desecration of the graves of tiny Hopi babies. In many ways the description of the Hopi as barbaric reflects more clearly on the whites building the road.
Quit bothering with angels, I say. They're no good for Indians. Remember what happened the last time some white god came floating across the ocean?
Abecedarian Requiring Further Examination of Anglikan Seraphym Subjugation of a Wild Indian Rezervation, Natalie Diaz
A mausoleum moscaic, a sick tapestry: the tiny remains roused from death's dusty cradle
The Faces of Art, Natalie Diaz
it hurts it points it dreams it offends it cries
"Mexican is not a Noun, Francisco X Alarcon
Crossed in despair many deserts full of hope
To Those Who Have Lost Everything, Francisco Alarcon
ALL of you— you proper Blacks, you half-Blacks, you wish-I-weren’t Blacks, Niggeroes and Niggerenes. You.
Gwendolyn Brooks, “Primer for Blacks” (via zoelegato)
I really appreciated this quote, as it served as a successful rallying call for Brooks message. In this quote the author calls all blacks, all those who are oppressed, to join together in the struggle for equality. As this was the largest focus of black feminism, this line is especially critical.
The first real power she ever had and lined her womb with cement to make a graveyard for our children
Power Audre Lorde
Oh mighty Drop ____And because they have given us kindly so many more of our people.
Primer for Blacks Gwendolyn Brooks
We sing sin We thin gin
We Real Cool Gwendolyn Brooks
The tigers in the panel that she made will go on prancing proud and unafraid
Adrienne Rich
Seeking a now that can breed futures like bread in our children's mouths so their dreams will not reflect the death of ours
Audrey Lorde, A Litany for Survival
I do not dwell within my birth nor my divinities who am ageless and half-grown
Audre Lorde, A Woman Speaks