#longing
So we are taking off our masks, are we, and keeping
our mouths shut? as if we’d been pierced by a glance!
The song of an old cow is not more full of judgment
than the vapors which escape one’s soul when one is sick;
so I pull the shadows around me like a puff
and crinkle my eyes as if at the most exquisite moment
of a very long opera, and then we are off!
without reproach and without hope that our delicate feet
will touch the earth again, let alone “very soon.”
It is the law of my own voice I shall investigate.
I start like ice, my finger to my ear, my ear
to my heart, that proud cur at the garbage can
in the rain. It’s wonderful to admire oneself
with complete candor, tallying up the merits of each
of the latrines. 14th street is drunken and credulous,
53rd tries to tremble but is too at rest. The good
love a park and the inept a railway station,
and there are the divine ones who drag themselves up
and down the lengthening shadow of an Abyssinian head
in the dust, trailing their long elegant heels of hot air
crying to confuse the brave “It’s a summer day,
and I want to be wanted more than anything else in the world.”
Pedro Salinas, tr. by Ruth Katz Crispin, from Memory in My Hands: The Love Poetry of Pedro Salinas; “The voice I owe to you”
[Text ID: “It is from you that I always come, and always / it is to you that I must return.”]
I pretend not to know why you’re gone, pretend there is not the same sickness inside me.
Emily Skaja, from Brute: Poems; “Elegy with feathers”
Lately, I hold your
name in my mouth like a talisman
Emily Skaja, from Brute: Poems; “Dear Katie”
Pedro Salinas, tr. by Ruth Katz Crispin, from Memory in My Hands: The Love Poetry of Pedro Salinas; “The voice I owe to you”
[Text ID: “From your eyes, from them alone, / comes the light that guides”]
Pedro Salinas, tr. by Ruth Katz Crispin, from Memory in My Hands: The Love Poetry of Pedro Salinas; “The voice I owe to you”
[Text ID: “and the longing / to love, to love you, more.”]
But me, I’m a single cell on a serpent’s tongue
And there’s a muddy field where a garden was
And I’m glad you got away, but I’m still stuck out here
My clothes are soaking wet from your brother’s tears
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Clouded pathways? This is a perfect illustration in how you create your own web. Seriously, you need to let go and break free.
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fromReckless Chants #25, August 2019
this time of year there is a quality of light that hurts the eyes. all that green against all that blue & the clouds shapeshifting across the sky. even on overcast days it burns itself into you, acid green, electric gray. this time of year is a quality of light that hurts the heart. I dream of never sleeping, of the demented orchestra of ice cream trucks, of staining my tongue blue in slushee eternities. sometimes I drove along the lakeshore on the south side of town & there is the skyline of Kenosha jutting out into the water, a hazy blue mirage. it looks like an enchanted city, a city of dreams, & I think maybe that’s why I’ve always romanticized Kenosha despite living in Racine—it’s easier to love a city when you see it from a slight distance, cloaked in blue mist, & can imagine it to be anything you want. when I arrive there it’s just another dirty old town, not that much different from my own; as soon as I leave I long to return again. the only time I feel such longing for Racine is when I see it from a different vantage point—like when I took xxx to the lighthouse & we looked at the silhouette of downtown against the fading blue & I said when I see it like this it’s magic, when I see it like this I can’t imagine ever living anywhere else.
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“You spend so much time building walls, that you become one. Brick and mortar. Blood and bone. A fragile thing, pretending to be strong. But with just one touch–a moment of tenderness, seeping in like water through the cracking cement–you would shatter, break, crumble to the ground.”
Leonard Cohen
“Dude just talk to my brother already.” Dean said looking at the girl behind the record store counter. “You’re a geek he’s a nerd match made in heaven.” He pointed at Sam then her. “Nope…”
“This man is a Timberlake and you need to stop treating him like a Faton”
She said as she organized vinyl Sam was more than a nerd this town was small,but everyone knew he was a braniac that would leave this place in the rearview mirror after highschool. “I love your music laced vocabulary,but never compare Sammy to Timberlake.”
~~~~~~
A/n
Quote from Brooklyn Nine-Nine did a small short with the aesthetic.
Is there anything that contains more raw emotion than the lyric: I need you more than want you, and I want you for all time ?????
The longing, the tenderness, the pain, it hurts me
