up out of this

hanna, 32 writer, poet, reader

[epistolaire-livre]

Devotions (2017), 'The Summer Day' (1990) Mary Oliver, p. 319.

[weltenwellen]

Joanna Klink, "Some Feel Rain", Raptus

[theoptia]

Anaïs Nin, from The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 4: 1927-1931

Text ID: I must build up a strong world within myself, so rich and so full that it will be enough. I must find all things in myself, create them. I must reach my own climaxes of strength and creation with my work.

[havingapoemwithyou]

The Way Things Have Been Going Lately by Ada Limón

[velocitations]

this is genuinely the greatest advice out there. i don't even think there's anything i can add just read it again and again. from rainer maria rilke. aka chill :)

[morningwitchy]

fig & robin is complete 💘 look out for it this late spring/summer!

[the-haiku-bot]

fig & robin is

complete 💘 look out for it this

late spring/summer!

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

[heavenlyyshecomes]

there is a level of seduction that exists beyond the body. something less tangible, and perhaps more potent. anais nin understood this idea about how desire does not begin with touch but with language, perception, and the sharp electric pull of a mind that challenges and excites you. in her journals, desire is not just a physical hunger but a hunger of the intellect, an unraveling of thought before an unraveling of the body. to be drawn into someone’s mind, to feel their thoughts press against your own, can be more intoxicating than any physical closeness.

—Caitlyn Richardson, 'can intellectual intimacy replace physical desire?', in milk fed

[havingapoemwithyou]

Goatsong by Leila Chatti

[rustbeltjessie]

[rustbeltjessie]

Jennie’s Diner, Ronks, Pennsylvania, May 2005

[kaikartel]

art really is the only way to run away without leaving home

[the-haiku-bot]

art really is the

only way to run away

without leaving home

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

[weltenwellen]

Wildness Before Something Sublime Leila Chatti

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

W S Merwin

[apoemaday]

Aubade

by Louise Glück

There was one summer that returned many times over there was one flower unfurling taking many forms

Crimson of the monarda, pale gold of the late roses

There was one love There was one love, there were many nights

Smell of the mock orange tree Corridors of jasmine and lilies Still the wind blew

There were many winters but I closed my eyes The cold air white with dissolved wings

There was one garden when the snow melted Azure and white; I couldn’t tell my solitude from love —

There was one love; he had many voices There was one dawn; sometimes we watched it together

I was here I was here

There was one summer returning over and over there was one dawn I grew old watching

[gnashingmyteeth]

[scraebble]

It may be the coldest day of the year, what does he think of that? I mean, what do I? And if I do, perhaps I am myself again.

– from Mayakovsky by Frank O'Hara

[huariqueje]

Early Fireflies - Jeremy Miranda , 2026

American , b. 1980 -

Acrylic on panel , 11.5 × 14 in.

[shisasan]

March 24, 1974 Anne Sexton, from Complete Poems