“Lakes of red roses, here, in the snow;”
— Émile Verhaeren, from The Evenings: Poems; “Fatal Flower,” c. 1887
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“Lakes of red roses, here, in the snow;”
— Émile Verhaeren, from The Evenings: Poems; “Fatal Flower,” c. 1887
to love someone is firstly to confess: i'm prepared to be devastated by you. by A History of My Brief Body by Billy-Ray Belcourt
Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
Mary Oliver, from a poem titled "West Wind," featured in Devotions: Selected Poems
little bit from a longer piece of mine ࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔
Margaret Atwood, from The Blind Assassin
It rained all night and I miss my childhood. It's a short poem, I've had a long long night and a short life. I've been trying to remember my grandpa's smile but memory is a treacherous thing. It rained all night and I miss everything I've forgotten.
-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The Flesh I Burned
Richard Siken, Crush/Lora Mathis, If There's A Way Out I'll Take It
Naomi Shihab Nye, “Sometimes I Pretend.” A Maze Me: Poems for Girls
There is such terrible vacancy in my thoughts lately. It is not a lack of feeling. It is something darker, it is something else. There is pure vacancy in there, do you understand? It is pure. And I am scared.
— Anne Sexton, from “A Self-Portrait In Letters.”
— Marina Tsvetaeva, from Yesterday He Still Looked In My Eyes in “Bride Of Ice: New Selected Poems.”
louise glück!!!!
Mahmoud Darwish
e.e. cummings, from “in time of daffodils(who know” (in 95 Poems), Complete Poems: 1904-1962
[Text ID: “In time of daffodils(who know the goal of living is to grow)”]
Erika L. Sánchez, from “La Cueva”, Lessons on Expulsion
Sylvia Plath, from a letter to Ann Davidow-Goodman, featured in The Letters Of Sylvia Plath Volume I: 1940–1956
[Text ID: I know I’ll always think of you with something like hurt and nostalgia―and a great deal of love.]
Audre Lorde, “From the House of Yemanjá”, The Collected Poems of Audre Lorde