In The Incomprehensible Maze Of Personhood, Somewhere In Me There Is A Tangle Whose Causal Knot Is You.

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White, as if a shroud for one's dead,

Came the rain to cover the twisted

Smile with which the city laid.

The salt-wet cloud pressed down

Apologetically down on the wails

To muffle down the alleys where

Fear smelt sharper than the guilty

Lust for life.

The smoke rose up and died

In the arms of the rain

And the bruised earth cooled itself

Down to sleep on the sidewalk

Tattered from toes to head

And a loaf of wet, burned bread

Fed the hunger in their

Grim, kerosene-masked eyes.

There was a road from living,

So they said, and it was hope

That shone on the edge of

The blade. Prayers curled up

In its handle like a dirty scroll

Pushed up in a crypt, to hold onto

And to give up to the fire when

Rain shattered all.

- pollosky-in-blue

Courtney Peppernell, Pillow Thoughts.

there is something so beautiful about hearing people speak in their first language, their mother tongue. it’s as if you’re hearing them truly speak for the first time and suddenly you see rolling fields, cliffs and mountains, wind running through a forest. every day i wish that i could understand every language of the universe so that it can be more than music to my ears.

Queen of hearts, bows to the fools parade, insanity is a strange thing to take comfort in. ‘Mere blood and bone’ will lure you to depths of life/hell which human hand (only) must (only) touch. Vega of the lyre and bellatrix of the Orion in a dance of lights and life, bitterness sings a frayed melody to the hearthstone, listen to her woebegone voice in the soft refrain, fold away your letters and give away your life, for its not sadness but despair that requests it. Believe in phantoms, and one as old as yourself wants to touch your windows and watch its fragile hands pass through the glass. 

White roses, it has always been white roses, with their inscrutable faces and slender thorns, the grotesque so beautifully encompassed in the lovely.

have you ever had a friend, like as in a normal friendship? ever?

For those of you who asked, here’s a list of some of my favourite poems:

Soleil et Chair (Sun and Flesh), Arthur Rimbaud Litany, Rebecca Linderberg A Myth of Devotion, Louise Glück L’Après-Midi d’un Faune (The Afternoon of The Faun), Stéphane Mallarmé Fever 103°, Sylvia Plath It’s No Use, Sappho (tr. Barnard) Orpheus. Eurydice. Hermes, Rainer Maria Rilke The Glass Essay, Anne Carson Alchimie du Verbe (Alchemy of the Word), Arthur Rimbaud I Will Wade Out, E. E. Cummings Mrs. Beast, Carol Ann Duffy Elsa au Miroir (Elsa at The Mirror), Louis Aragon To Fanny, John Keats The First Elegy, Rainer Maria Rilke Persephone The Wanderer (I), Louise Glück Mad Girl Love Song, Sylvia Plath He Seems to Me, Sappho (tr. Carson) F. de Samara to A. G. A., Emily Brontë Pietà, Rainer Maria Rilke (and its many translations) To Proserpine (Orphic Hymn), Anonymous The Unicorn, Angela Carter Saying Your Names, Richard Siken Apparition, Stéphane Mallarmé The Tiger, Pablo Neruda Lady Lazarus, Sylvia Plath Clair de Lune, Roland Leighton I Like My Body When, E. E. Cummings When We With Sappho, Kenneth Rexroth Look On This Picture and On This, Christina Rossetti Nacciyar Tirumoli, Andal (tr. Sarukkai Chabria) Zuleikha, Rumi Marathon, Louise Glück The Red Poppy, Louise Glück The Concert of Hyacinths, Odysseus Elytis (tr. by Kimon Friar) Song for an Ancient City, Amal El-Mohtar Prayers in a Temple, Yusuf al-Khal (tr. by Abdullah al-Udhari) The Convent Threshold, Christina Rossetti Letter to Husband, Emily Berry my love, E. E. Cummings Glanmore Sonnet X, Seamus Heaney Plead for Me, Emily Brontë