aphroditesrose reblogged
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.
Robert Frost
aphroditesrose reblogged
Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day.
Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet
aphroditesrose reblogged
@rbhvleo // roberto ferri // mothering by ainslie hogarth // rainer maria rilke // ? // planet of love by richard siken // a self portrait in letters by anne sexton // indian summer by ron hicks
aphroditesrose reblogged
[...] I’m so pathetically intense. I just can’t be any other way.
Sylvia Plath, The Letters of Sylvia Plath: Volume I: 1940 - 1956 — Edward Cohen, c. 11th September 1950
aphroditesrose reblogged
I say less. Perhaps because—I suspect—I feel more. If I were to put words to it, we’d be in deep waters indeed.
Emma Donoghue, Reader, I Married Him: Stories Inspired by Jane Eyre; from ‘Since First I Saw Your Face’
aphroditesrose reblogged
ehnigma, reasons why i write
aphroditesrose reblogged
Still I am learning unconditional and true / Still I am burning unconditional for you
— June Jordan, from "Update," Haruko/Love Poems
aphroditesrose reblogged
Tell me, father, which to ask forgiveness for:
what I am, or what I'm not?
Tell me, mother, which should I regret:
what I became, or what I didn't
aphroditesrose reblogged
I'm impressed. That might be the closest to an orgy on stage we've ever had
aphroditesrose reblogged
ο μολδαβος ήρθε χόρεψε πεντοζάλι πέρασε τέλεια έφυγε
aphroditesrose reblogged
Greece just bring back the band that created the master piece "alcohol is free" like you legit peaked back then.
aphroditesrose reblogged
“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”
― Jamie Anderson
aphroditesrose reblogged
If these words can do anything if these songs can do anything I say bless this house with stars.
Transfix us with love.
— Joy Harjo, from "The Creation Story," Weaving Sundown in a Scarlet Light
aphroditesrose reblogged
memoryslandscape
“What you want is someone to take hold of you. Gently, gently, with love.”
— Tennessee Williams, from Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, The Collected Plays (Library of America, 2011)