just say anything

Feb 16, 2009 13:42

uninvited, the thought of you stayed too late in my head ( Read more... )

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Comments 21

diane ackerman: calliopealive February 16 2009, 19:51:38 UTC
thought. the word even sounds like a thick knot. endlessly raveling and unraveling, thought combines colorful yarns to clothe each moment.

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tune_me_out February 16 2009, 20:14:00 UTC
This is Sufjan Stevens' album Illinois.

This is Anis Mojgani, a spoken word poet.

This is a small and crappy cameraphone picture of my current notebook, and a bead bracelet I'm currently wearing. The boy who gave me the bracelet is sleeping in the background. I honestly never thought I'd have him around again.

Hope that helped.

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whatofthenight February 16 2009, 21:17:56 UTC
i've got nothing, really, except i keep thinking about how paul bowles wrote that the soul is the weariest part of the body. and i keep listening to this song

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ny4izkgnX_k

and i think you look lovely in that photo, by the by.

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tinyoneironaut February 16 2009, 21:40:50 UTC


And you, with your new born eyes, have you ever loved a man like I love him? Do you hurt, but still feel alive like never before?

And now I walk these streets like a stranger in my home town, learn the language, form the words when I speak. He changed me, I'm his ghost since he came around. Now I count the hours, and the days and the weeks in passion and silence. Every word, every line a measure -- It's the science of the soul. I'm learning that some things I can't go without and one of those is him.

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damnthedreams February 16 2009, 22:18:56 UTC
So strange. I bought rapture for Spela for her birthday 2 days ago, and picked up a copy for myself in a second-hand bookshop in a little seaside town today. I used to own a copy but lent it and, therefore, effectively lost it. Beautiful book.

Try Alice Oswald:

SINCE LOVE IS ROUND

since love is round and man misshapen
it may not always accord and if I
and I do furiously reprove myself
hackle up and without impulse cry
or if after if I hum for hours
all cold and odd and feign mad
and vanish with my jacket on my head
and your calm hands just lift and let it by...
I say a miracle a notion at risk
and grown of and aloof to faults and a
terrible demand is love but if you ask
something or refund on your gentleness
and in good time take secretly
another girl and say so guiltily...
then leave me I haven't such forgiveness...

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