the-poetic-spirit

Matthew Kristall

Flo Morrissey’s Free-Spirited Style Moment

Upon the release of her poetic debut album, “Tomorrow Will Be Beautiful,” the folk singer pauses to enjoy the tender subtlety of fashion’s new bohemianism.

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One misleads oneself regarding the poet if one sees the essence of his art in depth of feeling and passion. Whoever finds inside himself a spark of the poetic spirit can only become a true poet if that which has moved his soul since the days of his youth is the word, the word as expression of the connection between his soul and the images of the world.

Ludwig Klages, Rhythmen und Runen

i’ve let you consume me. i’ve invested so much happiness into you, that i no longer remember what it was like to feel any other way. since the first time i layed eyes on you and looked into your consciousness and soul, i mean really looked into you, and knew there was something more. i felt something deeper with you, something that wasn’t like anything else before. i wanted to figure out what it was that had drawn me to you so goddamn much. what’s so special about you? i needed to find out. i needed to know why it was i caught you running through my mind at 2 a.m., i needed to know why i looked forward to seeing you everyday even though we were so quiet around each other, i needed to know why i found such peacefulness in the slight eye contact that we had exchanged. i needed to know. it consumed me, just like your love.
—  how can a four letter word be so scary? (via @iamdakotastarr)

i use my tumblr as a sort of mood board/ escape mechanism from my everyday anxiety and self doubt. i also try to use it as this sense of motivation, but sometimes i also get caught up feelin like some sort of fraud?? like, i wish i could be this soft, poetic, adventurous, creative spirit who holds flowers and reads poetry and has dried paint on my blue jeans. but all too often i am a muddled grey. i am heavy in every sense of the word: unmotivated, quiet, often volatile in my emotions. i only ever make art in bursts. i keep trying to unlearn these thought patterns and habits and make myself into the tea sipping grandpa glasses kind of pastel pink calm i daydream about. sometimes i just worry its a lost cause. 

The moon:

He swallows
so many
stars
until he collects
enough light
to be whole
once more.

When he is finally full,I
reach across the dark
night sky,
smiling,brushing my
hand against the glow of
galaxies known to us alone:

‘You,too?’

—  “It May Take Some Time,But The Moon Will Always Be Full Again.” by Brittney L. Melvin