June 2012
32 posts
3 tags
“The eye’s habit convinces the mind that fog Is imprecise. To open and see. Wakefulness Was that other life. Cricket in the desert Spoken from cloud. Cricket in the desert In a child’s voice. When I opened my mouth I tasted the cloud. So I’ve learned I live here too. My mouth was another scrap in the fog. Now let me praise the keeper and his thought.”
— Dan...
4 tags
“Describe being unreal.
When I finally woke, what was the world but sleep. Graveyards where the wind is why,
wild as cursive and motorcycle-stark and white as a gown of waiting. I am melting toward a world,
the small belly, into vivid such-liquids and a disguise of lavishes. October lacerations.
The neon nears. No one tells me what to believe and for once I believe nothing.”
...
3 tags
“Some days the attraction of outdoors is so overwhelming I develop acute agoraphobia and only manage to peer through windows, through angled vertical blinds
at heat bending strands of wild oats missed in the cutting, the glitter on swatches of York gum leaves, suspended solution of shadows. Staring too long out of semi-light into the blast
of sunshine, everything reverses, and only...
1 tag
“In water, like in books—you can leave your life.”
– Lidia Yuknavitch, The Chronology of Water (via mirroir)
2 tags
1 tag
3 tags
Young Fathers -Fortune
“you might not be...
5 tags
“1. Digger, the moons of your nails are
black. You dug through night, and now you dig through
dawn. You broke to find, but now you break to
break. And what you mutter—there—
that is no prayer.
2. Knowledge must have a shape; therefore it
happens where light can’t
get through. Where light is thwarted, bent, bent back,
resisted by the form of the
thing, flesh, stem...
7 tags
“Forests are where you hear the trees— a foreign film murmuring.
Undercover life forces tunnel, restructure the strata of decay, fumbling the wet & bronze & rosewood needles, nudging & moving down & into hidden homes.
Some dusks you think you see stained-glass windows & brackish, inland pools fill the eyes.
Part of the winter forest’s strategy is...
5 tags
“The bull has a scheming gleam in his eye. The bullfighter is wearing many buttons. The bull runs in a triangular pattern. The bullfighter is an echo. The bull has just turned four. The bullfighter’s mouth sets as though above an ocean. The bull. The three sticks in his hide. The bullfighter forgets to acknowledge the crowd. The bull is a burdensome law. The bullfighter in front of his...
1 tag
5 tags
“Sadly it could never be sorted, what desire was. Though, it used to be wonted that one gave himself over each time to the cramped flight. That was the dream. To study charts, now, that is something. The consummate lines showing neatly as rise, simply, an arc near the answer to some question I’d posed, and light, very light. Having reached nirvana, I’d keep myself nestled in the...
1 tag
Time Immemorial.: Do you not hear me calling,... →
timeimmemorial:
Do you not hear me calling, white deer with no horns? I have been changed to a hound with one red ear; I have been in the Path of Stones and the Wood of Thorns, For somebody hid hatred and hope and desire and fear Under my feet that they follow you night and day. A man with a hazel wand came without sound; He changed me suddenly; I was looking another way; And now my...
4 tags
“we are suspect men birds earth wrists cuffed bent over the hood of evening
what are they asking what have we done?
who can blame the birds (whose hearts are a thousand chemicals) that they hallucinate the rayon day-cover of the moon? who decides? who commands the visions of the beasts?
beloved be the mini-flashlights of their notes turned on too early fading now
birds too...
“The lie did not creep into politics by some accident of human sinfulness. Moral...”
– Crises of the Republic, Hannah Arendt (via mirrortheories)
4 tags
“An attentiveness to this world can excavate,
rather than fill,
the depths of...”
– Rusty Morrison, from “Commonplace”
7 tags
“NOT AS ONE who knows the ground but woken to a standing, ay rose and held as bird would hold for want of weather, flight. Far, the hard light grew. The us were down in sleep. Fire had blacked away— ay saw how none would know me colding there. Stood and stept as calf that has no mother-side but as a weak thing made, fell and lay in a smaller place to wait. Where a noise had been ay let...
9 tags
deathrowe:
Shadows of Tomorrow by the illest...
1 tag
this room and everything in it: Terra Incognita →
rabbit-light:
Terra Incognita
I have scaled unknown ridges and cliffs, only to abseil downward, dropping inside the holes of caves where stalagmites pierced the floors of darkened rooms. I have found mines deep within the crevices of sleeping mountains, waded in underground springs of manatees, minerals, sand. I have upturned rocks, searched the roots of trees in acres of eclipsed...
1 tag
“Blooming, I’m becoming hazy and disappearing like rotten flowers.”
– 有村竜太郎 (via lavandula)
1 tag
