synesthesia

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"Horse" - Chase Twichell

I’ve never seen a soul detached from its gender,

but I’d like to. I’d like to see my own that way,

free from its female tethers. Maybe it would be like

riding a horse. The rider’s the human one,

but everybody looks at the horse.

(Source: missedstations)

"

Summer for prose and lemons, for nakedness and languor,
for the eternal idleness of the imagined return,
for rare flutes and bare feet, and the August bedroom
of tangled sheets and the Sunday salt, ah violin!

When I press summer dusks together, it is
a month of street accordions and sprinklers
laying the dust, small shadows running from me.

It is music opening and closing, Italia mia, on Bleecker,
ciao, Antonio, and the water-cries of children
tearing the rose-coloured sky in streams of paper;
it is dusk in the nostrils and the smell of water
down littered streets that lead you to no water,
and gathering islands and lemons in the mind.

There is the Hudson, like the sea aflame.
I would undress you in the summer heat,
and laugh and dry your damp flesh if you came.

"

- "Bleecker Street, Summer," Derek Walcott (via commovente)

the joy. m&o

who is it. bjork

daughtersofdig

(Source: theladybadass)

pendulum. fka twigs

Writing Poems on Antidepressants

Nikki Moustaki

Writing poems on antidepressants

is hard. You can appreciate the difficulty

by reading the previous two lines.

Metaphors are easy

to come by when you’re aching

or pining or wounded in love,

which scientists have proven is a type of madness

and madness can be cured with a pill.

Not everyday

is Paris. Not everyday

does a bird come winging

out of a carpet to give you a free metaphor,

especially if there are oranges on the table

and you’re on your meds.

Each day offers some little irony or a dream

or a blind albino woman

sitting next to you on the train

with eyelashes like white silk threads

attached like broom-straw to her one closed eye

as she taps her cane against the window

and you, the poet on antidepressants,

thinks: look at that, hmmm, interesting.

Did I buy dog food? Here’s my stop.

likeafieldmouse:

HiroshigeNew Year’s Eve Foxfires at the Changing Tree, Ōji (1857) 

(via museumghost)

GREASED UP AND ASLEEP I WAKE UP JUST LIKE A SHEEP IN THE CROOK OF YOUR ARM IN THE FOLD OF YOUR SWEET SARSAPARILLA OH VIRGINIA THERES A BLACK CAT AT MY FEET BUT YOU CURB HER BY THE COLLAR AND YOU WRAP ME IN WHITE SHEETS LUMBER LIMBS ALL TIMBERIN’ FRECKLED SPECKLED CHICKEN LAYING IN YOUR SKIN OH I WANNA BE AN ANIMAL UP AGAINST YOUR WALL IM A WANTED MAN IN EVERY STATE BUT IM NOT A MAN AT ALL AND THERE WERE TEN DEAD RABBIT HEADS ALL STRUNG UP IN A LINE JUST LIKE PEARLS ON A LOVERS NECK WHO ONCE SAID SHE WAS MINE ITS A WET DREAM HEAVY WHIPPING CREAM AND WHIPPOORWILLS ARE WHISPERING AND YOURE AS BIG AS THE SKY IN WYOMING AND HONEY YOURE THE QUEEN OF EVERY FRYING PAN SMOKEY BLUE AND BURNING TRUE SALMON AND CAYENNE OH I WANNA BE AN ANIMAL UP AGAINST YOUR WALL IM A WANTED MAN IN EVERY STATE BUT NOBODY WANTS ME AT ALL AND YOU ASKED ME WHERE I HAD COME FROM YOU KNEW OCEANS AND I WANTED TO RUN YOUR HANDS ALONG THE NECK OF MY GUN AND DO A THING THAT CANNOT BE UNDONE I CANNOT BE UNDONE ‘CAUSE IM A PIONEER A-PINING TREE THAT FELL ONTO YOUR FLOOR AND IM PAWIN’ AND I CALLIN’ AT YOUR WINDOWS AND YOUR DOORS AND THE HOUNDS ALL RUN LIKE RIBBON SO I FOLLOW THEM RIGHT IN TO BOUND AT THE SOUND OF YOUR HOLLERIN’ SHEPHERDS PURSE WOULD MEND A BROKEN HEART LIKE A GOWN I WORE AND THEN I TORE APART OH I WANNA BE AN ANIMAL UP AGAINST YOUR WALL IM A WANTED MAN IN EVERY STATE BUT YOU WANTED ME MOST OF ALL

dogfrequency:

(via http://www.youtube.com/attribution_link?a=42jclI7_L50&u=/watch?v=bi8bPsr-lPg&list=FLY_FDKwIGUZzWDQDfLTAEuQ&feature=share&index=5)

DEREK JARMAN - SLOANE SQUARE

"I skim sadness like fat off the surface
of cooling soup. Don’t care about
metaphor but wish it would arrive
me. There’s a cool current of air
this hot day I want to ride.
I have no lover, not even my love.
I have no other, not even I."

- "real poem (personal statement)," Rachel Zucker (via commovente)