September 2011
27 posts
3 tags
“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry...”
– Dead Poets Society (via livin4thenight)
Sep 26th
1,288 notes
1 tag
New poem
In Heaven We await as silent angels, for the arrival of the newly dead. Here, where dry light blankets our sight, and the sea below startles our wingless souls, we watch their earthly plight, meaningless dots mounting that great, rock wall, to find themselves in this fruitless tomb; lined with us, the lighted solders who hath passed already, We are the welcomers of the dead; the guardians...
Sep 25th
1 note
So…how was it to go behind my back and lie to me? How was it to not trust me, friend?
Sep 25th
5 tags
Sep 21st
486 notes
3 tags
“Each second we live is a new and unique moment of the universe, a moment that...”
– Pablo Picasso (via slekes)
Sep 20th
2,228 notes
3 tags
“You can’t go back home to your family, back home to your childhood, back home to...”
– Thomas Wolfe (via samanthabailey)
Sep 20th
4 notes
4 tags
there's a bluebird in my heart.: an axiomatic... →
freedomthebreakfastfood: the higher the temperature, the colder the ice always the ant, by the side of the grasshoppers. no, don’t worry, you needn’t lift your pretty little fingers no, don’t worry, i’ll take care of all of that no, don’t worry, you needn’t be occupied with memory, consideration no, don’t worry,…
Sep 19th
3 notes
3 tags
“I have never let my schooling interfere with my education.”
– Mark Twain (via hereunoias)
Sep 18th
329 notes
4 tags
“the pleasures of the damned are limited to brief moments of happiness: like...”
– Charles Bukowski (via getoutofmydangerstranger)
Sep 15th
6 notes
“Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity; and my eyes burned with anguish and anger.” - James Joyce, “Araby”
Sep 14th
6 tags
“Bleed me of art, and there won’t be enough liquid in me to spit.”
– Irving Stone | The Agony and the Ecstasy (via blogut)
Sep 13th
82 notes
4 tags
Sep 13th
3 notes
4 tags
“Miracles are to come. With you I leave a remembrance of miracles: they are by...”
– E.E. Cummings (via whatshewanted)
Sep 11th
313 notes
1 tag
Sep 11th
208 notes
Birthday party.
Fill your head with false ecstasy; smile, baby, smile, otherwise they’ll know somethings special, and you don’t want that. Take in smokes, marijuana, nicotine, hydrochloride, what the hell do I care? Drink those nasty poisons till you drown, baby drown, after-all you are a year older. I realize my brokenness tonight. Sink into that lonely grief, boy, sink. You have no one to...
Sep 11th
6 tags
Sep 9th
3 notes
If I go will you miss me? If I stay will you be with me?
Sep 7th
6 tags
“To hear people talk, you would think no one ever did anything but love each...”
– Paul Murray - Skippy Dies (via calamitycasper)
Sep 5th
25 notes
4 tags
I can’t fly anymore, and the house and families are in ruins, the cats’ (all of them) cry tears of white and rain. If, down this murky street, I am unloved, loveless, (which I am) than to whose eyes do I turn to beg, like the animals they are, each to each go away with closed lips, legs, glances, and the empty-hearted passions, which so dearly, they hide. O! What dooms/lacks...
Sep 5th
And if your dreams are leaving you, I’ll still believe in you
Sep 4th
7 tags
“And then I felt sad because I realized that once people are broken in certain...”
– Douglas Coupland (via troubled)
Sep 4th
620 notes
4 tags
“They’ve got no idea what happiness is, they don’t know that without this love...”
– Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina (via acoustic-funeral)
Sep 4th
87 notes
1 tag
“The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get...”
– Stephen King (via harmoniam)
Sep 3rd
603 notes
2 tags
“It is good to express a thing twice right at the outset and so to give it a...”
– Friedrich Nietzsche  (via disposablefriends)
Sep 3rd
131 notes
2 tags
“Some lose all mind and become soul: insane. Some lose all soul and become mind:...”
– Charles Bukowski (via skinnygold)
Sep 3rd
21 notes
5 tags
Sep 3rd
115 notes
1 tag
seminifrioustubeloidialbuttnoids: “My ambition is handicapped by laziness.” —Charles Bukowski, “Factorum”
Sep 3rd
6 notes