Columns, 1966, Agnes Martin
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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YOU ARE THE REASON
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸

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@softanimalbody
Columns, 1966, Agnes Martin
Invitation
Oh do you have time   to linger     for just a little while       out of your busy
and very important day   for the goldfinches     that have gathered       in a field of thistles
for a musical battle,   to see who can sing     the highest note,       or the lowest,
or the most expressive of mirth,   or the most tender?     Their strong, blunt beaks       drink the air
as they strive   melodiously     not for your sake       and not for mine
and not for the sake of winning   but for sheer delight and gratitudeâ     believe us, they say,       it is a serious thing
just to be alive   on this fresh morning     in this broken world.       I beg of you,
do not walk by   without pausing     to attend to this       rather ridiculous performance.
It could mean something. Â Â It could mean everything. Â Â Â Â It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote: Â Â Â Â Â Â You must change your life.
- Mary Oliver, âInvitation.â Redbird
heather havrilesky
Clarissa Pinkola EstĂŠs, from  âWomen who Run with the Wolves,â c. 1992
Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair (1924)
âWhy do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.â - Terry Pratchett, A Hat Full of Sky
Tony Hoagland, from âPeaceful Transitionâ, What Narcissism Means to Me
âMy childhood, closed to me forever, turned gold like an autumn garden,â - Louise GlĂźck, Fugue
Vladimir Nabokov, from an interview for âBBC-2 (1969)â, Strong Opinions (1973)
Kekekeke *fox laugh*
Photo by Louise Beech
âEverytime we let straights make out in bars while we couldnât touch because of lawsâIt was an act of perversion.Everytime we put on the proper clothes to go to a family wedding and left our lovers at homeâIt was an act of perversion.Everytime we heard âWho I go to bed with is my personal choiceâItâs personal and not politicalâ and said nothingâIt was an act of perversion.Everytime we let straight relatives bury our dead and push our lovers awayâIt was an act of perversion.â
â Excerpt from Pat Parker, âBoots are being polishedâ 1978.
full poem
Walt Whitman, âSong of Myselfâ, Leaves of Grass
[Text ID:Â âI think I will nothing for a long time but listen, To accrue what I hear into myselfâto let sounds contribute toward me.â]
i woke up craving a gentle touch;
the old battle wound aching,
âMy soul is a collage of scenes âŚâ
â Marina Tsvetaeva (1892-1941), from âPrayerâ
So many moments in life
required tenderness
when i was not equipped for it