Cautiously, I allowed myself to feel good at times. I found moments of peace in...– Charles Bukowski
The artist often looks and feels like a loser or a child or a haunted slave and...– Charles Baxter
We’re all dreamers; we don’t know who we are. Some machine made us; machine of the world, the constricting family. Then back to the world, polished by soft whips. We dream; we don’t remember. Machine of the family: dark fur, forests of the mother’s body. Machine of the mother: white city inside her. And before that: earth and water. Moss between rocks, pieces of leaves and grass. And...
Because in the end, you won’t remember the time you spent working in the office...– Jack Kerouac (via likeafieldmouse)
from Gabe Foreman, "Dish Bitches"
poetryeater: Every boomerang I toss wobbles off to clobber a neighbour. My stack of stapled job apps circles back to chain me to this sink of steel— elbow-deep in foaming pots scraping veal and apricots from dented pans and countertops … Half-asleep at work, I’m dreaming jungle rivers, sleeping with a tiger, not holding down a job that goes nowhere, chops the air, and wanders back into...
versuche2011: Voices out of the stone out of sleep deeper here where the world darkens, memory of toil rooted in the rhythm beaten upon the earth by feet forgotten. Bodies sunk into the foundations Of the other time, naked. Eyes fixed, fixed on a point that you can’t make out, much as you want to: the soul struggling to become your own soul. Not even the silence is yours here where the...
Honesty no less than intensity of vision is the prerequisite of a living...– Paul Strand
Tillim interview →
To write about the monstrous sense of alienation the poet feels in this culture...– Maxine Kumin
I leave Sisyphus at the foot of the mountain. One always finds one’s burden...– Albert Camus (via danseurs)
The need to write comes from the need to make sense of one’s life and discover...– John Cheever (via versuche2011)
Death is extraordinarily like life when we know how to live. You cannot live...– J. Krishnamurti, Freedom from the Known
A projection is the transformation of points and lines in one plane onto another...
I maintain an extensive collection of beautiful, hand-blown anxieties, fears,...– Anthony Discenza
christian northeast - PRAYER REQUESTED →
Black Cat by Rainer Maria Rilke →
A ghost, though invisible, still is like a place your sight can knock on, echoing; but here within this thick black pelt, your strongest gaze will be absorbed and utterly disappear: just as a raving madman, when nothing else can ease him, charges into his dark night howling, pounds on the padded wall, and feels the rage being taken in and pacified. She seems to hide all looks that have ever...