"Johnny, the kitchen sink has been clogged for days, some utensil probably fell down there.
And the Drano won’t work but smells dangerous, and the crusty dishes have piled up

waiting for the plumber I still haven’t called. This is the everyday we spoke of.
It’s winter again: the sky’s a deep, headstrong blue, and the sunlight pours through

the open living-room windows because the heat’s on too high in here and I can’t turn it off.
For weeks now, driving, or dropping a bag of groceries in the street, the bag breaking,

I’ve been thinking: This is what the living do. And yesterday, hurrying along those
wobbly bricks in the Cambridge sidewalk, spilling my coffee down my wrist and sleeve,

I thought it again, and again later, when buying a hairbrush: This is it.
Parking. Slamming the car door shut in the cold. What you called that yearning.

What you finally gave up. We want the spring to come and the winter to pass. We want
whoever to call or not call, a letter, a kiss — we want more and more and then more of it.

But there are moments, walking, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the window glass,
say, the window of the corner video store, and I’m gripped by a cherishing so deep

for my own blowing hair, chapped face, and unbuttoned coat that I’m speechless:
I am living. I remember you."

Marie Howe, “What the Living Do,” from What the Living Do: Poems (via lifeinpoetry)
Reblog 01/10/14 URL
youreyesblazeout:

I took the A-train uptown to hear her sing, she said I’d be safe going in with her but man, the looks I got. And all around everyone looking so fine and cool and eyes flashing out of those dark spaces, filled with things I’ll never know.And when she sang, it was like the moonmelting down, white pearls and black satinand a sudden silence that only she could bring.
~ Robert Mitchum’s poem about Sarah Vaughn

When I was a child I adored Robert Mitchum. A little boy’s man crush. Reading this, I see that he is still my kind of guy.

youreyesblazeout:

I took the A-train uptown to hear her sing, 
she said I’d be safe going in with her 
but man, the looks I got. And all around 
everyone looking so fine and cool 
and eyes flashing out of those dark 
spaces, filled with things I’ll never know.

And when she sang, it was like the moon
melting down, white pearls and black satin
and a sudden silence that only she could bring.

~ Robert Mitchum’s poem about Sarah Vaughn

When I was a child I adored Robert Mitchum. A little boy’s man crush. Reading this, I see that he is still my kind of guy.

(via youreyesblazeout)

Reblog 01/10/14 URL

"

I learned to embrace recklessness
from watching falling leaves
getting caught in autumn downpours,
running swiftly down the gutters
ragged but racing, all riding the tides.

these days seem halcyon-touched,
but are only a golden warning
for a fade to broken brown
in its due and faithful time; as frost,
as frozen earth, as fresher green.

"

arms, like branches abandoned

liz (10.1.2014)

Reblog 01/10/14 URL

"You aren’t who I loved. You are how I loved."

I am pretty.

I am pretty.

(Source: eglantier, via completedream)

Reblog 01/10/14 URL
Stay. Just a little bit longer.

Stay. Just a little bit longer.

(Source: greendestroyed, via completedream)

Reblog 01/10/14 URL

"[I] became a woman who learned her own skin and dug into her soul and found it full."

Anne Sexton, fromThe Break Away (via c-ovet)

(Source: victoriajoan, via lifeinpoetry)

Reblog 01/10/14 URL
galleritito:

Memories of sweat and dust. Long sunny summers.  Haystacks and farm food. —ttt.

galleritito:

Memories of sweat and dust. Long sunny summers. Haystacks and farm food. —ttt.

Reblog 01/10/14 URL
galleritito:

Poet at Rest #22. Dale Cody.

galleritito:

Poet at Rest #22. Dale Cody.

Reblog 01/10/14 URL
galleritito:

Collage, xerography, India ink, acrylic. Tito Titus, 2011.

galleritito:

Collage, xerography, India ink, acrylic. Tito Titus, 2011.

Reblog 30/09/14 URL
not-exactly-myself:

——»A Thousand thoughts

ComeShe said. And I did.
lfratino:

Shipwreck
oil on canvas
Louis Fratino 
2014

lfratino:

Shipwreck

oil on canvas

Louis Fratino 

2014

(via completedream)

Reblog 30/09/14 URL

"The night is not a time, it’s a place."

arjuna-vallabha:

Elegance, detail of Tara, nepali sculpture

arjuna-vallabha:

Elegance, detail of Tara, nepali sculpture

(via youreyesblazeout)

Reblog 30/09/14 URL
galleritito:

Poet at Rest #22. Dale Cody.

galleritito:

Poet at Rest #22. Dale Cody.

Reblog 30/09/14 URL
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