Jackson

“There was a star riding through clouds one night, & I said to the star, 'Consume me'.”

[diioonysus]

history + last words

[feral-ballad]

Alejandra Pizarnik, tr. by Patricio Ferrari & Forrest Gander, from The Galloping Hour: French Poems; “I check for you in the wind”

[Text ID: But I check for you in the wind. / Night opens me and it’s you.”]

[whalesfallmoved]

“Dear are the long gone days of folly, Paris at night is strange and dull, I’m walking home to grieving violets And someone’s portrait on the wall.”

— Marina Tsvetaeva, “In Paris,” My Poems: Selected Poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva (tr. Andrey Kneller)

[severinwoolf]

[dark-romantics]

~ Shakespeare, Macbeth

[art-has-died]

sarcastic poet looking for pretentious bastard. send a picture of your sword to be considered.

[relativefiction]

Emily Dickinson, To March

[labohemejulia-deactivated202101]

Hello dark academia lovers! I’m starting a new series on my instagram about writing tips from the masters and I picked the queen Virginia! If you’d like to see more of this, please check my instagram here: @labohemejulia. Thank you :)

[samsfenders]

But how to make sense of her Duncan? What do you mean? All her fragments, she makes me feel as if language is miserably insufficient, broken.

[aghostinsummerclothes-deactivat]

Vita and Virginia (2018), dir. Chanya Button

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

Arthur Rimbaud, tr. by William Jay Smith, from Collected Translations; “The Strolling Player,”

[kafk-a]

Sandra Cisneros

[deadpoetwilde]

me trying to subtly tell people i'm gay: i love sappho and emily dickinson's poetry, my favorite book is the picture of dorian gray, i recently started reading maurice and i love it, have you heard of allen ginsberg? sure, i love virginia woolf--

[derangedrhythms]

Forugh Farrokhzad, Reborn; from ‘Green Phantasm’, tr. Sholeh Wolpé

[le-immorte]

“I am that candle, who with my burning heart / Make a ruin glow”

— Forugh Farrokhzad, from “The Captive”, Another Birth and Other Poems (Mage Publishers, 2010)

[lifeinpoetry]

Yes, this is me, but so what? She who was in me is gone, gone. I mumble furiously, insanely, Who was she? Who?

— Forugh Farrokhzad, from “Lost,” tr. Sholeh Wolpé, Sin: Selected Poems of Forugh Farrokhzad

[sad-house-of-mortality]

“My whole being is a dark chant”

— Forugh Farrokhzad