We are all alone, born alone, die alone, and — in spite of True Romance...– Hunter S. Thompson (via alieworthlivingfor)
Iris Berry →
PUNK GLOBE:@GingerCoyote Interviews The Very Talented And Beautiful —- IRIS BERRY —- http://ht.ly/lapSm
Popshot Magazine - The Illustrated Magazine of New...
tobeamodernman: See on Scoop.it - The Written Word and Then Some Popshot Magazine - The Illustrated Magazine of New Writing - Short Stories, Flash Fiction, Poetry Jack Varnell’s insight: PopShot Gets A New Face… See on popshotpopshot.com
Like You --- By Roque Dalton
Like You By Roque Dalton (Translated by Jack Hirschman) Like you I love love, life, the sweet smell of things, the sky- blue landscape of January days. And my blood boils up and I laugh through eyes that have known the buds of tears. I believe the world is beautiful and that poetry, like bread, is for everyone. And that my veins don’t end in me but in the unanimous blood of those who struggle...
The Dance at Gehenna
Breathing corpses lie on fallen idols, and relics of an age prophesied. <> They ruled in a kingdom of heartache and sin. Where virtues flee, in a dizzying exodus of trust, born from betrayal. <> The few good men, the few good women, pick at the bones and carrion of the presaged. <> Wars and rumors of wars - cold ones, - against terror, or against drugs kept them...
Silence emerges from the sound of rain and spreads in a crescendo of gray...– (via journalofanobody)
I was ripe for death, and along a road full of dangers, weakness led me to the...– Arthur Rimbaud, A Season in Hell (via corophagia)
As it has been said: Love and a cough cannot be concealed. Even a small...– Anne Sexton, from “Small Wire” in The Complete Poems: Anne Sexton (Mariner Books, 1999)
By day they’re full of meaningless activity; by night they’re full of a...– (via journalofanobody)
I will touch you with my mind. Touch you and touch and touch until you give me...– E.E Cummings, Lady (via absea)
Still Proud of this one…check it.
Read Amanda Palmer’s “A Poem For Dzhokhar” -... →
A POEM FOR DZHOKHAR By Amanda Palmer you don’t know how it felt to be in the womb but it must have been at least a little warmer than this. you don’t know how intimately they’re recording your every move on closed-circuit cameras until you see your face reflected back at you through through the pulp. you don’t know how to stop picking at your fingers. you don’t know how little you’ve been...
LOVE SONG I ask not, “Is thy hope still sure, Thy love still warm, thy faith...– On Loves, Lunacies, and Losses: The Little-Known Poetry of Mark Twain | Brain Pickings
Henri Matisse's Rare 1935 Etchings for James... →
Three Poems by James Joyce →