Words of the Quiet

Personal Tumblr of a fiction editor at PINEkindling, LLC in Ann Arbor, MI. When people submit their secrets, I write them poems. Otherwise, I rarely post anything but wolves and random bits.

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From time to time I return to Tumblr and remember that I used to write poems for strangers.

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"Nurture" by Maxine Kumin

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More and more frequently the edges of me dissolve and I become a wish to assimilate the world, including you, if possible through the skin like a cool plant's tricks with oxygen and live by a harmless green burning. I would not consume you, or ever finish, you would still be there surrounding me, complete as the air. Unfortunately I don't have leaves. Instead I have eyes and teeth and other non-green things which rule out osmosis. So be careful, I mean it, I give you a fair warning: This kind of hunger draws everything into its own space; nor can we talk it all over, have a calm rational discussion. There is no reason for this, only a starved dog's logic about bones.

Margaret Atwood, More and More

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#poetry #andreaGibson #gravity

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Am I Discouraged. A Hughson. 2013.

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Feeling this poem again today.

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Take a listen to this Chilling Tale written by my friend and client, H.K. Reyes, and adapted by Chilling Tales for Dark Nights. It's a great bedtime story for short story lovers of all kinds (as long as you don't mind a little gory sound effect). The audio adaptation is absolutely stunning and gets better and better as it goes on. 

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They eat beans mostly,…

[wolf-teeth]

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--Hozier, Take me to Church

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies; I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife."

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Upon entering the office this afternoon I discovered a very kind and generous thank you letter from a very talented client. Absolutely made my day and I am changing my official title to "Ninja Editor." #editing #dreamsdocometrue #fiction #annarbor #gratitude #lovely

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The Untold Story by xetobyte

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You took in a wild monster and you groomed me and petted me and trained me to sit at your feet... a very loyal monster. So I didn't go too far. I went exactly as far as my leash allows, and you hold the leash. You ruined her life and then you made me save her and then you gave her to me to take under my wing. You shouldn't have given me someone to love; monsters eat people, that's what we do.

--Huck, We Do Not Touch the First Ladies 

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Editing project and new prints and coffee in a Tardis mug. Could be worse. #editing #spreadingout #meticulous @aquasixio

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Scary meow. #tunamelt #cats

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The Danger of (Not) Starting Over

The aching pads of your fingertips lift from the keys, their prints whisked away like tracks in snow after too much trampling. You lean back in your chair, the question mark curve of your spine cracking as it straightens into better posture than it has met in weeks. You are finished. The final words have been written. 157,383 atoms of a whole new world have been laid in black lines and curves on a landscape of white, ready to be printed.

You can’t resist. You read them again from the beginning, each syllable whispered into the dawn hours. Three pages in. Twenty-five. No. Your head shakes from side to side against your will; your brain sloshes noisily against your skull, like the muddy liquid it has become. For the first third of the pages each sentence is tightly knit, each word selected lovingly for its weight and its cacophony; yet, there–the rhythm breaks down. Like a smattering of teardrops scattered across the pages, your own interjections break in where you’ve tried to smooth over some error or other. The poetry is broken. Then–there, at the start of the end where you realized what everything meant, where everyone was trying to go, who they were meant to be. It’s as plain as a cement wall erected in the middle of the woods. There, everything changed into metaphor and overture, into horizons and gestures and solutions. The style needs work but the meaning has been found. And the middle–the middle is made of mediocre exposition, dialogue inserted to explain away that character dropped somewhere after he caused too big a mess to correct. How did this happen? you wonder into the sunlight seeping through your window, all discomforting brightness...

[asian]

[woodendreams]

(by skoeber)