The truth is out there.
noise dept.
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
d e v o n

Kiana Khansmith
will byers stan first human second
i don't do bad sauce passes
Mike Driver

No title available
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Cosimo Galluzzi
DEAR READER

oozey mess
No title available
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
NASA

blake kathryn
styofa doing anything
No title available
Claire Keane

@theartofmadeline

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@vitsidreamin
The truth is out there.
Sitting amongst the flowers can make you feel happy 😊 why I plant so many 🙏
“—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable, Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast, To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever—or else swoon to death.”
— John Keats, excerpt of “Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art”, in John Keats: The Complete Poems
“Maybe you have seen the shape of a tree shimmer and fly apart as a flock of birds. Maybe you have heard birds awaken a landscape into a dream. Maybe for you it became a way of knowing how the notes in their throats pulse an afternoon, measure distance, reveal a hidden grid of a thousand kingdoms calling, responding. If you have seen a sudden meteor streak the night too brief for wishes then you know the way the sky can surprise.”
— Amy Sage Webb Baza, from “Epistemology,” 18 December 2020
by BIBBY&co
“The divine is not human; it is something quite different. And it is not noble or sublime or spiritualized, as one likes to believe. It is alien and repellent and sometimes it is madness. It is malignant and dangerous and fatal. Or so I have found it. And I well know the stench of it - the sour goat-stench - who should know it better than I?”
- Pär Lagerkvist, The Sibyl.
“She was there in the middle of the lake, surrounded by the awestruck swans, a nymph, a real nymph, submerging her skin like roses in the crystalline waters. Her hips like a flower shrouded by foam seemed to turn golden, bathed by the light coming through the leaves. Oh! I saw lilies, roses, snow, gold…”
— Rubén Darío - The Nymph
Sunrise. Atlantic Ocean. Raining. North Florida. Ponte Vedra Beach. March 1, 2021
@finita--la--commedia
unmute
“axe echoes … distant / castanets, monarch shadows / fandango about”
— Greg Sellers, haiku journal entry, 11 September 2021
“[The sea] says nothing, explains nothing, teaches no lesson. And still it is a good idea to lend an ear. Listening to this empty noise is nothing but living, staying within ourselves…”
— Jean-Michel Maulpoix, “They look at blue but will never know how to say it”, A Matter of Blue: Poems (trans. Dawn M. Cornelio)
“She had apprehended instinctively the dual life—that outward existence which conforms, the inward life which questions.”
— Kate Chopin, from The Awakening, The Awakening and Selected Stories
“(…) memories drift & nod like belladonna kissing the ground.”
— Yusef Komunyakaa, from The Thorn Merchant’s Wife in “Neon Vernacular: New And Selected Poems”
“siren song like a curse breaking dreams with her kiss breaking worlds with her lips siren song like a fury mad melody making chaos dark melody making ghosts of melancholy”
— makes you lost as it goes | happy birthday Liene (via blackthorny)
A one-page short story.
concept: windows are wide open, the smell of earth after it rains, you snuggling in your cozy bed while watching studio ghibli 💐 🌹
Grindelwald, Switzerland
Jemima Puddle Duck