lifediaryofann

Latest Posts by lifediaryofann

Good Girl and Other Yearnings, Isabelle Correa

When all the grey settles, and the narrow lanes wane, the softness trembles- anger remains. -anneshwa 🌻

In madness and in magnetic beauty, in glory and in melancholy.

Mary Oliver, "Blue Iris." Devotions

A breath of an artist is an art in itself, bejewelled recollection of a billion poignant tales. A heroic poetry of a broken heart that mends a million cracks around.

-Anneshwa 🌻

One broken star in the infinite sky, dwindled softly through time, ache stricken, greedy for love. -Ann

" oh yes, i'm a writer " *doesnt write anything for 6 months*

The wind overwhelms me, the dusk overwhelms me, the cars, the lights, the crowd, the emptiness, the dark, the light, everything overwhelms me. The dews on the veins, the mourning birds, the talking grains and the longing trains. Everything aches, everything burns, everything overwhelms. The existence, and the disappearance.

-Ann 🌻

August. My birth month. August, the month of heavy pours. August, the month of misty mountains. August, the month of most gorgeous sunsets.

August.

[ID: text seen as; ‘(JULY IS OVER AND THERE’S VERY LITTLE TRACE)’

a poem by Frank O’Hara]

This need, nobody knows it, this longing doesn't go away

''I would recognise you in total darkness, were you mute and I deaf. I would recognise you in another lifetime entirely, in different bodies, different times. And I would love you in all of this, until the very last star in the sky burnt out into oblivion''.

- The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

Mary Karr, in “Facing Altars: Poetry and Prayer”

I felt something unexplainable in my chest and there were flowers growing inside my veins. My heart stopped and that moment felt like eons. Eons full of ecstasy.

-anneshwa

“A poem begins with a lump in the throat.”

— Robert Frost

I call for a new tomorrow,

but hold yesterday's hands tightly,

the grip is powerful,

and the darkness is obscure to most.

I thrive in the sun,

I feel the gentle rhythms.

- Anneshwa

heavy-handed with metaphor (as all lovers are) & filled to the brim with music

One day you will deny to destroy yourself by the immense grief you hold in your heart and the breeze will feel a little sweeter, and the birds will chirp your favourite songs, and you'll realise you've been healing all this while.

-Ann

my forever mood

Sometimes they say I'm

mad, but a grain of

madness is the best of art.

-Vincent van Gogh (At Eternity's Gate)

Jane Austen was right when she said “I am half agony, half hope.”

Wrapped me like a lullaby

Anneshwa Paul / A melancholic December morning

Anneshwa Paul / A melancholic December morning

“Lesbos” by Sylvia Plath, from Winter Trees, originally published in 1971

A sunny morning, loud chirps of the morning birds, and soothing mellow hymns of the rustling leaves