[weltenwellen]

Stephanie Garber, Once Upon a Broken Heart

[the-evil-clergyman]

A Nymph in a Wooded Landscape by Jean-Jacques Henner (19th Century)

[lazyyogi]

To be identified with your mind is to be trapped in time: the compulsion to live almost exclusively through memory and anticipation. This creates an endless preoccupation with past and future and an unwillingness to honor and acknowledge the present moment and allow it to be. The compulsion arises because the past gives you an identity and the future holds the promise of salvation, of fulfillment in whatever form. Both are illusions.

Eckhart Tolle

[pairedaeza]

“Longing is the place of exile. Our love is a place of exile. Poetry is a place of exile. We dream and forget where we were when we wake.”

— Mahmoud Darwish, excerpt of ‘The Hoopoe’. From Unfortunately, It Was Paradise.

[weltenwellen]

Ada Limón, from "The Unspoken"

[notasoupcompany]

[typewriter-worries]

thinking about jeff buckley being asked, "how do you want to be remembered?" and answering with, "as a good friend."

[typewriter-worries]

same energy

[tendermimi]

Ocean Vuong / Dear T

Shane McCrae / To Make a Wound

[flowerytale]

Anne Sexton, from "Her Kind", The Complete Poems

[petaltexturedskies]

Anne Sexton, from Hurry Up Please It's Time in “The Death Notebooks”

[soracities]

Marina Tsvetaeva, excerpt from Poem of the End, Selected Poems (trans. Elaine Feinstein, with Angela Livingstone) [ID'd]

[taxidermychrist-deactivated2025]

home butchering by roman may

[nooksickle]

[readmorepoets]

“If two people love the same thing, she reasoned, then they must love each other, at least a little, even if they never say it.”

— Susan Vreeland, Girl in Hyacinth Blue

[the-evil-clergyman]

La Naissance de Venus by William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1879)

[megairea]

She is your last and true and only love, he thought, and that’s not evil. It is only unfortunate.

Ernest Hemingway, Across the River and into the Trees, 1950

[the-evil-clergyman]

Silence, from Edgar Allan Poe’s The Bells and Other Poems by Edmund Dulac (1912)