Hieu Minh Nguyen, from This Way to The Sugar: Poems; "Buffet Etiquette"
[Text ID: My house is a silent film. My house is infested with subtitles. ::: That's all. That's all. I have nothing else to say.]
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@loverletter
Hieu Minh Nguyen, from This Way to The Sugar: Poems; "Buffet Etiquette"
[Text ID: My house is a silent film. My house is infested with subtitles. ::: That's all. That's all. I have nothing else to say.]
i love tragedy i love circular narratives i love ppl who cannot escape their fate & characters that have been dead since the beginning
"i loved my friend" by langston hughes // on earth we're briefly gorgeous, written by ocean vuong // scott street by phoebe bridgers // unknown painting // "the worm king's lullaby" from war of the foxes by richard siken // only friends by wallows // hope ur ok by olivia rodrigo // wish you were here by pink floyd // ghost photograph by angela deane // "thanksgiving 2006" from night sky with exit wounds by ocean vuong // dear friend by dayglow // the night we met by lord huron and phoebe bridgers // the archer by taylor swift // my buddy by chet baker // ghosting by txt // fading by flatsound // miserable lie by the smiths // bad friend by rina sawayama // haunted by dean gioia // hour of the wolf by surf curse // the last days of judas iscariot, written by stephen adly guirgis // the ultracheese by arctic monkeys
It's like. No I don't have a bad relationship with my father. Yes I love my father. No I do not know my father. Yes I have fond memories of my father. No I cannot remember ever knowing my father. Yes I know my father loves me. No my father has never said he loves me. Yes I am just like my father. No I am nothing like my father. Yes my father has taught me many things. No I have learned nothing from my father. Yes this man is my father. No I do not know this man.
“I have always, essentially, been waiting. Waiting to become something else, waiting to be that person I always thought I was on the verge of becoming, waiting for that life I thought I would have. In my head, I was always one step away.”
— Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines
Aimee Nezhukumatathil, "Baked Goods" from Lucky Fish
types of girls, heroines of classic literature edition, part ii
catherine earnshaw: queen of temper tantrums, gets excited when the sky is gold, dramatic crier, foggy evening walks, loves the stars, best winged eyeliner game on the moors, rainy nights with an old book, long hair pushed back with a velvet ribbon
kitty shcherbatsky: ballet slippers with pink satin ribbons, sugared rose petals, waltzing to the nutcracker, gingerbread and hot cocoa (with extra marshmallows!), ice skating dates with her boyfriend, twirling the night away in a pink ball gown
emma woodhouse: high tea with little cakes, has final authority over all her friends’ tinder matches, smells of miss dior, rose pink silk pajamas, a little spoiled, always has a box of sweets on hand
josephine march: eats the best candy from the box and leaves the rejects for her siblings, ink stains on her hands, scribbled notes in the margins of old books, first to open her stocking on christmas morning, over-sized sweaters
anne shirley: loves decorating cupcakes, still believes in magic, always in a flower crown, makes handmade lacy valentines for her classmates, wishes on shooting stars, stress-bakes sugar cookies
yvonne de galais:Â has the sleeping beauty waltz on replay, exclusively wears miu miu, believes in love at first sight, always in a dream, collects powder puffs, bulk orders rose macarons from laduree
lily bart: leaves her text messages on read, wears a floaty peignoir and pink marabou slippers to bed, new york city at dusk, pampering herself, diamond headbands, poor boys
francie nolan: old bookstores, cinnamon buns with lots of sugar, dates at the library, owns a lot of colorful stationery, slightly undone ribbons in her braids, hot coffee with vanilla, cashmere cardigans and worn-out ballet flats
eustacia vye: mysterious and quiet, loves wandering in the mist, drinks a lot of sweet wine, dreams of paris, prefers dark chocolate over milk chocolate, classic ballet scores on crackly vinyl, velvet-bound books of romantic poetry
Autumn Halo, Oda Sakunosuke
mary maclane, the story of mary maclane / pierre bonnard - jeune femme écrivant, 1908 / louise fitzhugh, harriet the spy / phil grey - two photos from will self’s writing room: a 360 degree view in 71 photos, 2007 / tom astor - susie boyt’s notebooks, 2018 / stephen king, on writing / jill krementz - stephen king at his home office with his corgi marlowe, 1995 / joan didion - “on keeping a notebook” / wayne miller - author and poet maya angelou, 1974 / photo of sylvia plath from the everett collection / anne carson in a 2016 interview with NPR / octavia butler’s motivational notes to self / jim carroll, the basketball diaries / benjamin garcia - writing painting, 2012 / wayne pascal - writer’s block, 2019 / louisa may alcott, little women / little women (2019) / mary shelley (2017) / dickinson (2019) / anne lamott, bird by bird
on writing
“I want to eat fruit the same way you eat fruit with your lips not your teeth tongues stained with juice when I smile I want you to smile back wipe the corner of my mouth with your thumb kiss me kiss your thumb show me how fruit tastes in your mouth just a touch different from how it tastes in mine”
— Sanna Wani, from “Poems, oh my!”
Cheryl Strayed, Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar
Camille Norton, Corruption: Poems
“The trees you planted in childhood have grown too heavy. You cannot bring them along. Give yourselves to the air, to what you cannot hold.”
— Rainer Maria Rilke, “Part One IV,” from Sonnets to Orpheus
Adonis, from Selected Poems; “To a Soothsayer” (tr. Khaled Mattawa)
“Maybe in a year I could write something. There is something in me maybe someday to be written; now it is folded, and folded, and folded, like a note in school.”
— Sharon Olds, from “September 2001: New York City” (Stag’s Leap)
I don’t know who I am yet but I’m excited to. I’m excited to grow into someone I really deeply love. And I think I’m on the right track.
Mary Oliver, from “Toad”, Truro Bear and Other Adventures : Poems and Essays