“I found the Muse in myself. And I loved Her fiercely.”— Annie Finch, from Among the Goddesses: An Epic; “Muse-Goddess,”
(via lhzthepoet)
Braver.
Empath 🌙
(Source: myfairylily, via esplumeor)
this body
is home, my childhood
is buried here, my sleep
rises and sets inside,
desire
crested and wore itself thin
between these bones—
I live here.— Lisel Mueller, from “A Nude by Edward Hopper,” The Private Life
(Source: lifeinpoetry)
via spiritual guidebook
And yet even that is possible, to have the starred skies closely wrapped around one’s heart.
“
— Rainer Maria Rilke, from a letter to Ilse Erdmann, October 9, 1915
(via weltenwellen)
(via weltenwellen)
(Source: luthienne, via weltenwellen)
Ha, but an ache tearing at your throat—and a vague cinema lifting its black moon blot all out. There are days when leaves have knife’s edges and one sees only eye-pupils. There’s no walking barefoot in the crisp leaves. There’s no dancing save in the head’s dark.
“
— William Carlos Williams, from Imaginations & Other Prose; “Kora In Hell,”
(via ambroses)
(via ambroses)
(via ambroses)
“My soul simply trembles in my throat”— Fyodor Dostoevsky, from “The Brothers Karamazov”
(via lhzthepoet)
There are things I too hold down inside / glacial shores, screaming memories,
“
— Birhan Keskin, tr. by George Messo, from Selected Poems; “Instrumental,”
(via violentwavesofemotion)
(via violentwavesofemotion)
Does my heart turn? Does the world?
“
— Yvan Goll, tr. by Donald Wellman, from “Four Chambers,” written c. 1940
(via weltenwellen)
(via weltenwellen)
(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via weltenwellen)