Reach the stars

what are you searching for in the heart of the night?

[whatwouldjehanwear]

Let the Light Enter

[walkthroughbrambles]

“Light! more light! the shadows deepen, And my life is ebbing low, Throw the windows widely open: Light! more light! before I go.

Softly let the balmy sunshine Play around my dying bed, E’er the dimly lighted valley I with lonely feet must tread.

Light! more light! for Death is weaving Shadows ‘round my waning sight, And I fain would gaze upon him Through a stream of earthly light.

Not for greater gifts of genius; Not for thoughts more grandly bright, All the dying poet whispers Is a prayer for light, more light.

Heeds he not the gathered laurels, Fading slowly from his sight; All the poet’s aspirations Centre in that prayer for light.

Gracious Saviour, when life’s day-dreams Melt and vanish from the sight, May our dim and longing vision Then be blessed with light, more light.

— Frances Ellen Watkins Harper (Based on the last words of Goethe)

[jinbedreams]

The Learn'd Astronomer

[walkthroughbrambles]

When I heard the learn’d astronomer, When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me, When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them, When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room, How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick, Till rising and gliding out I wander’d off by myself, In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time, Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.

--Walt Whitman

[walkthroughbrambles]

Roses from the end

and you make room for the subsequent

the already unseen

that whose tremor is apart which even air cannot touch

which cannot be contained in the world in the dust of movement and time

for the sake of whose triumph was concieved in advance the scattering

even of your whiteness itself

—Aygi 1966

[artistsoftheunknown]

Visit

I’ve waited And waited For the ghosts Of my youth To come and see How much their Young mortal Has grown.

Each time the wind Raps at my door I believe it’s them Coming to claim me Once more.

Is it possible For a spirit To forget a face It hasn’t seen in decades?

Perhaps they failed To remember my address.

[walkthroughbrambles]

The Glories of our Blood and States

The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armour against Fate; Death lays his icy hand on kings: Sceptre and Crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill: But their strong nerves at last must yield; They tame but one another still: Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath When they, pale captives, creep to death.

The garlands wither on your brow; Then boast no more your mighty deeds! Upon Death's purple altar now See where the victor-victim bleeds. Your heads must come To the cold tomb: Only the actions of the just Smell sweet and blossom in their dust.

--James Shirley

[walkthroughbrambles]

Quietness

As if through bloody branches you clamber towards light.

And here even dreams resemble a network of sinews.

It can’t be helped, on earth we play at people.

But there - are the refuges of cloud and partitions of god’s dreams, and our quietness, that we shattered,

since somewhere in the depths we made it become visible, audible

And here we speak with voices and are seen in shades of colour, but no-one will hear our authentic voices,

and becoming purest color, we shall not known one another.

—Aygi 1960

[endlesscrowd]

To read only children’s tales and look through a child’s eye; to rise from grief and wave big things goodbye.

Life has tired me to death; life has no more to offer. But I love my poor earth since I know no other.

—Mandelstam 1908

[endlesscrowd]

The Admiralty

A dusty poplar in the Northern capital, a transparent clock-face lost in the leaves; and, shining through this green – a brother to both sky and water – a frigate, an acropolis.

Four elements rule over us benignly; free man is able to create a fifth. Doesn’t this ark, this chastely crafted ark deny the sovereignty of space?

Angry and whimsical, the jelly fish cling on; anchors lie rusting like discarded ploughs – the bonds of three dimensions burst and the world’s seas open before us.

—Mandelstam 1913

[apoemaday]

Glow

[endlesscrowd]

When I wake up earlier than you and you are turned to face me, face on the pillow and hair spread around, I take a chance and stare at you, amazed in love and afraid that you might open your eyes and have the daylights scared out of you. But maybe with the daylights gone you’d see how much my chest and head implode for you, their voices trapped inside like unborn children fearing they will never see the light of day. The opening in the wall now dimly glows its rainy blue and gray. I tie my shoes and go downstairs to put the coffee on.

—Ron Padgett

[endlesscrowd]

Help me, Lord, to survive this night. I fear for life, your slave. I fear life in Petersburg might be the sleep of the grave.

—Mandelstam 1931

[poetryeater]

Things

[endlesscrowd]

Even what was beyond us was recast in our image; we gave the country a heart, the storm an eye, the cave a mouth so we could pass into safety.

—Lise Mueller

[apoemaday]

For All the Girls with Messy Hearts, and to the Men Whose Skin Have Tasted Mine

[endlesscrowd]

Let’s be honest here - I am not the girl men fall in love with. I am the girl that men want to fuck. I am a conquest. A prize. A show.

I could count on five hundred fingers the number of people that have professed, “I like you. You’re different. You’re an interesting girl.” Apparently I’m not fascinating enough for you to want to hold for more than a one night stand.

Read More

[cmldi]

These bones hold a secret That whisper at night In creaks and sighs and lonely rattles They confess.

In the morning They rise alone And no one knows they are lonely.

[endlesscrowd]

Before

Before I brand a brother With envy or with shame, I’ll whisper to my heart, “He comes The road I came.” If any sue for pity— Though friend he be or foe— I’ll whisper to my soul, “He goes The road I go.” —Mary Sinton Leitch

[endlesscrowd]

From "The Conjunction of Jupiter and Venus "

I would not always reason. The straight path Wearies us with the never-varying lines, And we grow melancholy. I would make Reason my guide, but she should sometimes sit Patiently by the wayside, while I traced The mazes of the pleasant wilderness Around me. She should be my counselor, But not my tyrant. For the spirit needs Impulses from a deeper source than hers; And there are notions, in the mind of man, That she must look upon with awe. —William Cullen Bryant

[arcane-demesne]

Lullaby for E

[endlesscrowd]

And kingdoms rise and then they fall And cities die, as do we all But there will always be This sad old song To touch your heart And mourn your soul — Elizaveta

[ishanijasmin]

Be your own armour; God knows you’re strong enough.

you are hard as nails | ishani jasmin (via ishanijasmin)