May 2013
33 posts
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boywitch:
I pressed my ear real real close to this tree trunk to hear what it had to say but now ive just got splinters in my ear and 0 ancient wisdoms
Watchchristiannightmares:
Wolf Blitzer asks Oklahoma tornado survivor if she thanks God and she responds ‘I’m actually an atheist’ (Found at Friendly Atheist; For a related post, click here http://christiannightmares.tumblr.com/post/51018564507/ricky-gervais-feels-like-an-idiot-in-oklahoma)
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“Live on coffee and flowers. Try not to worry what the weather will be.”
– The National- Conversation 16 (via 67th-n-hudson)
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let my love, um, bore you.
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EXP. 1
The golding foolish teeth showed except once sewn shut. My mistress possesses six hypnotica eyes. She twists her hips, mid-dance, in the shape of rotating double-helix. How the apostles wrote those private poems on her jagged edges. How her head is swirling & she transforms into a bird during sleep. Her feet are black as an ash tray, dug deeply into ground; runs fast; spun her web about town....
You're so vain
You’re probably going to jump into your full-length mirror any day now & bleed out staring at your beautiful demise.
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IlllllllllllllI: A Failed Repetition →
illllllllllllli:
A video camera pointed at the death-event of Timothy Leary, in his last moments they say he uttered a repetition, why not? in different voices, over one hundred times in some accounts, many times by other accounts, and in a third account, several times, each in different voices and tones of…
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When the hippie pixie meets the grungy punker, That’s Amore!
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“What is a poet? A person who conceals profound anguish in his heart, but whose...”
– Kierkegaard
April 2013
16 posts
so much joy it hurts: what resembles the grave but... →
anneboyer:
Always falling into a hole, then saying “ok, this is not your grave, get out of this hole,” getting out of the hole which is not the grave, falling into a hole again, saying “ok, this is also not your grave, get out of this hole,” getting out of that hole, falling into another…
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whenever your girlfriend is sobbing in a corner of...
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running toward an opening in his flooor the long frog on his shoulder whispers satan ’ - it is what it isn’t ’ - in promises lisped forth from some dumb & ddried-up tongue. (& in rustied Form) Same frog, (upon pausing.), asked the best question he could come up w/’ on the fly: ’ - Chasing birds gets pretty boring, right? faggot? ’ - Right] when...
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Kill yourself, Burn yourself, Fuck yourself
Look around you, from where you are sitting,...
This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. Not within a poem, but a moment. A moment just like this.
Now that moment has already ended. And our world is already ending.
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the so-cialist po'it: Just Like A Woman (Should) →
thesocialistpoet:
she slipped into his shoes & outgrew his moustache & glazed o’er his fully glow’n face & disrobed his flesh & abbreviated his name & dissected his weird teeth & & spat upon his shoes & shaved off his moustache & misplaced his face & fixed up his flesh & reframed his name & rewired his weird teeth
&
stole his stopwatch &...
