vn vrchive

feeling as claustrophobic as a kafka novel

[onlyondemairt]

even though i barely exist, there’s this.

[onlyondemairt]

miguel piñero and sandra maria esteves of the nuyorican literary movement on the train in new york, 1977. photographed by bolivar arellano.

[onlyondemairt]

Somewhere along the way, I decided I had to be an artist or die.

Frank Bidart

[onlyondemairt]

[technikully-blog]

i want you to know that it is not always easy to love me. that sometimes my chest is a field full of landmines, and where you went last night, you can’t go tomorrow. there is no manual, there is no road map, no help line you can call; my body does not come with instructions, and sometimes even i don’t know what to do with it. this cannot be easy. but still, you touch me anyway.

ivan. e. coyote

[aichlee]

[onlyondemairt]

a great day in harlem - art kane, 1958 a great day in harlem (survivors) - gordon parks, 1996

[onlyondemairt]

[mystic-lady]

[blackmanonthemoon]

[onlyondemairt]

assata shakur is welcome here.

[nevver]

[onlyondemairt]

by lucien clergue

[derica]

i stressed the love situation and i still think i was right. because its very disturbing to speak about love. people think that either you are a little bit ethereal or that you are not aware that there are struggles and hate and violence in the world and so on. or that you are a little bit religious or something like that. love has become the modern obscenity, it’s more obscene than sex, you can talk about sex and violence and that’s OK; everybody knows that exists, but love is too strange.

julia kristeva | ‘julia kristeva in conversation with rosalind Coward’ in the portable kristeva

[rootsnblues]

[onlyondemairt]

marvin gaye, california 1976, annie leibovitz, from rolling stone magazine, 1977

[haleyfood]

[onlyondemairt]

blues for almost forgotten music

by roxane beth johnson i am so often alone these days with echoes of these old songs

                                                          and my ghosted lovers.

i am so often alone that i can almost hear it, can almost feel

                                                        the half-touch of others,

can almost taste the licked clean spine of the melody i’ve lost.

  i remember the records rubbed with static and the needle

                                                                     gathering dust.

i remember the taste of a mouth so sudden and still cold from

                                                                         wintry gusts.

it seemed incredible then — a favorite song, a love found.

                                                                it wasn't, after all.

days later, while vacuuming, the lyrics come without thinking.

days later, i think i see my old lover in a café but don’t,

                                                                        how pleasing

it was to think it was him, to finally sing that song.

[onlyondemairt]

the 1972 gay pride declaration was distributed at the sold out henry street rhinestone review production at the marvin theatreon, tuesday may 2, 1972.

[onlyondemairt]

[onlyondemairt]