Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Monday, April 28, 2014
“I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps. I hunger for your sleek laugh, your hands the color of a savage harvest, hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails, I want to eat your skin like a whole almond. I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body, the sovereign nose of your arrogant face, I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes, and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight, hunting for you, for your hot heart, Like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.” ― Pablo Neruda
Saturday, April 26, 2014
Friday, April 25, 2014
“The important element is the way in which all things are connected. Every thought and action sends shivers of energy into the world around us, which affects all creation. Perceiving the world as a web of connectedness helps us to overcome the feelings of separation that hold us back and cloud our vision. This connection with all life increases our sense of responsability for every move, every attitude, allowing us to see clearly that each soul does indeed make a difference to the whole.” ― Emma Restall
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Thursday, April 17, 2014
"Conditioned to ecstasy, the poet is like a gorgeous unknown bird mired in the ashes of thought. If he succeeds in freeing himself, it is to make a sacrificial flight to the sun. His dreams of a regenerate world are but the reverberations of his own fevered pulse beats. He imagines the world will follow him, but in the blue he finds himself alone. Alone but surrounded by his creations; sustained, therefore, to meet the supreme sacrifice. The impossible has been achieved; the duologue of author with Author is consummated. And now forever through the ages the song expands, warming all hearts, penetrating all minds. At the periphery the world is dying away; at the center it glows like a live coal. In the great solar heart of the universe the golden birds are gathered in unison. There it is forever dawn, forever peace, harmony and communion. Man does not look to the sun in vain; he demands light and warmth not for the corpse which he will one day discard but for his inner being. His greatest desire is to burn with ecstasy, to commerge his little flame with the central fire of the universe. If he accords the angels wings so that they may come to him with messages of peace, harmony and radiance from worlds beyond, it is only to nourish his own dreams of flight, to sustain his own belief that he will one day reach beyond himself, and on wings of gold. One creation matches another; in essence they are all alike. The brotherhood of man consists not in thinking alike, nor in acting alike, but in aspiring to praise creation. The song of creation springs from the ruins of earthly endeavor. The outer man dies away in order to reveal the golden bird which is winging its way toward divinity." — Henry Miller (The Time of the Assassins: a Study of Rimbaud)
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
“When you recognize that there is a voice in your head that pretends to be you and never stops speaking, you are awakening out of your unconscious identification with the stream of thinking. When you notice that voice, you realize that who you are is not the voice — the thinker — but the one who is aware of it.” — Eckhart Tolle
Monday, April 14, 2014
“Fear isn't so difficult to understand. After all, weren't we all frightened as children? Nothing has changed since Little Red Riding Hood faced the big bad wolf. What frightens us today is exactly the same sort of thing that frightened us yesterday. It's just a different wolf. This fright complex is rooted in every individual.” ― Alfred Hitchcock
“Woman is the most superstitious animal beneath the moon. When a woman has a premonition that Tuesday will be a disaster, to which a man pays no heed, he will very likely lose his fortune then. This is not meant to be an occult or mystic remark. The female body is a vessel, and the universe drops its secrets into her far more quickly than it communicates them to the male.” ― Edward Dahlberg
Friday, April 11, 2014
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
Monday, April 7, 2014
the kiss of mercy
i look for the moon
it blinks its tired eye
i move things around
so it looks like i forgot
my musical midnight
my rowdy morning
yet we are like two silent birds
nothing needs to be done
i will let this exist
like a spark on its way to a flame
like a hurricane
spinning into gold
smooth as chalk dust i laugh in the face of doubt
you've put furniture underneath my heart
your essence hangs heavy like fruit
there is no argument
i can't forget
this desire is noisy
and you are the boss of my dreams
this breeze brought your name
i let my hair messy itself in your honor
you will never appear in moderation
this feeling
so particular
it's almost unnameable
i am braver at night
i can take on your craft
my soul is taking pictures
i am leaving this page of my book carelessly open
-b.d.w
“Love? Be it man. Be it woman. It must be a wave you want to glide in on, give your body to it, give your laugh to it, give, when the gravelly sand takes you, your tears to the land. To love another is something like prayer and can't be planned, you just fall into its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief.” ― Anne Sexton
Sunday, April 6, 2014
Friday, April 4, 2014
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