[enamouredpoet-deactivated202205]

i am outraged that someone has not yet fallen in love with me poetically in a museum

[stuckinapril]

small gestures can be just as touching as big ones. someone remembering your favorite song or holding your hand while walking or just generally being content to exist in your presence because that’s what makes them the happiest

[rotblut]

The Forest Spirit is dead. Never. He is life itself. Princess Mononoke もののけ姫 (1997) dir. Hayao Miyazaki

[mxxnlightsblog]

It is very important to go out alone, to sit under a tree, not with a book, not with a companion, but by yourself and observe the falling of a leaf, hear the lapping of the water, the fishermen's song, watch the flight of a bird, and of your own thoughts as they chase each other across the space of your mind. If you are able to be alone and watch these things, then you will discover extraordinary riches which no government can tax, no human agency can corrupt, and which can never be destroyed.

(Unknown)

[wnq-writers]

“You’ll meet a hundred different people who will describe you in a hundred different ways, don’t dwell too much on the kind of impression you make. Remember, there are a thousand paintings of the sun, but only one that rises and sets each day.”

— Ekta Somera

[ancientsstudies]

“I can see he's not in your good books,' said the messenger. 'No, and if he were I would burn my library.”

- William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing

[art-of-killing-softly]

November is the month of poets, artists, thinkers, lovers and wanderers

[848458202948502-deactivated2022]

Are we just souls sewn underneath fraudulent features fused to our faces forever? A deteriorating epidermis draped across our skin like veiled facades. We associate our facial features to the people we once were, the people we’ve become, the soul’s illusion. It is all but a mere coincidence. Two people fabricate a child and now these eccentrically molded structures are yours to wear until death or decay. I want to detach mine sometimes, traverse new skin for a while.

[dawnsfragrance]

Sai Assari, Dreamer’s Collection

[pebblesfromtheshore]

Touch

All my life I have used my hands. I have built with them, painted in colour and word nightmares, dreams and my future in between. Held in despair or hope, felt both the bond and rope, fought my blood when rage burned me alive. Life, love lies on my palms now as the future grasped. Textures too, sanded oiled wood, slipped between palms, handled, hefted, applied. Rough rusty steel, bolted cold unambiguous restraint. Chain, heavy in preparation, dead until lifted from clattering coil . Frayed coarseness of natural fibres as worn aged rope, stained, scores skin and embeds the flesh, fresh cracked stone, sharp edged to cut and graze, sulpherous in its welcomed intent. Hair soft between fingers, sweat, skin stuck, curls flopped, silken sprung, or coarse stubble in the softest of folds, running fingertips against the grain awash with juices and halted breath.

Cupped weight, nipple taut smoothed, goosepimpled perfectly, gripped, kneeded, needed, and back dimples to buttock clenched, parted not for the first time, nor the last. Lastly fingers over tongues hooked, teeth, throat touched, sucked, what made reddened palms awake on patient cheeks now devoured before they return to their noisy hours long task,

I love to use my hands.

I need to use my hands.

I need you to need my hands

Lives lived through touch.

DB@D

[thoughtkick]

“One of the risks of being quiet is that the other people can fill your silence with their own interpretation: You’re bored. You’re depressed. You’re shy. You’re stuck up. You’re judgmental. When others can’t read us, they write their own story — not always one we choose or that’s true to who we are.”

— Sophia Dembling

[the-inspiring-quotes]

[thoughtkick]

“I think too deeply about everything. I still don’t know if that allows me to see more of the world, or less of it.”

— Mobeen Hakeem

[bharatpics]

Poetry In Stone! 800-1000 years old hypnotizing marble temples of medieval Western India.

[poetryofmanya]

"The fact that we relate with art should be proof enough that we are art."

manya

Every painting has a tiny bit of me in it.

maria hegedus

I paint my own reality.

Frida Kahlo

I found I could say things with colour and shapes that I couldn't say any other way.

George O'Keefe

Art should be something that liberates your soul.

Keith Harring.

[nightlyquotes]

“I’m not totally mad at you. I’m just sad. You’re all locked up in that little world of yours, and when I try knocking on the door, you just sort of look up for a second and go right back inside.”

— Haruki Murakami

[flowerytale]

Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath