February 2012
23 posts
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maybe this time’s good
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Pu is translated “uncarved block” or “simplicity”. It is a metaphor for the state of wu wei (無爲) and the principle of jian (儉). It represents a passive state of receptiveness. Pu is a symbol for a state of pure potential and perception without prejudice. In this state, Taoists believe everything is seen as it is, without preconceptions or illusion.
Pu is usually seen as...
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Listen
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So Real
Love, let me sleep tonight on your couch and remember the smell of the fabric of your simple city dress. That was so real. We walked around til the moon got full like a plate the wind blew an invocation and I fell asleep at the gate And I never stepped on the cracks ‘cause I thought I’d hurt my mother And I couldn’t awake from the nightmare that sucked me in and pulled me...
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nikkiya- nobody but me
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I believe the woman sleeping beside me doesn’t care about what’s going on outside, and her body is warm with trust which is a great beginning.
Credo, Matthew Rohrer
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Faith
dearoldlove:
Here’s to having faith.
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Infatuation, Stephen Dunn
Let’s just say she was like the long absent sun that calls us out of our houses and into a promise that suddenly feels so welcome we’re as helpless as any crocus or daffodil. Yet I was no dumb flower. All morning I wondered how I might resist a feeling like this. A part of me wanted to take the February snow and the February emptiness and make a plan so stoical, so clear-eyed, my...
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Miss Peach: The College Years
IV. Fifth-Year Senior
Everything tastes like love. That’s what makes me nervous. That and I wish I knew what I will act like later today. I watch myself being kind sometimes and I think, is there nothing you won’t fake? But that’s unforgiving. A smile, a purse, an ax, these are all things you pick up and carry. Lately, I pick up the lightest things. I am floating and honored to drag myself back...
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today and every day after
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The Thinker
dearoldlove:
I hope you never have to think about anything as much as I think about you.
waiiiiit now, credit to sir J. Safran Foer?
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Listen
January 2012
40 posts
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William Writes Off His Heart
in sonnet form
There is some joy in weeping. Desirous, Powell’s sip of hemlock is resurfacing, your stars are still burning above me. Songs played into our mornings the way I asked them to and you were so beautiful I couldn’t do anything about it. The pools of your back shone like crystals in the chalice Guinevere held up to her beloved. Her eyes fixed on his, the last look of despair...
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“We are torn between nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and...”
– Carson McCullers
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Aún ni siquiera te tengo Y ya tengo miedo de perderte, amor Que rápido se me ha clavado Que dentro todo esté dolor. Es poco lo que te conosco Y ya pongo todo el juego a tu favor No tengo miedo de apostarte, Perderte si me da pavor. No me queda más refugio que la fantasía No me queda más que hacer Que hacerte una poesía.
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Suppose
It isn’t whether. No. Only: how long until how bad it gets. Our quick, our clutch. Or, sluggish rift. How costly this, a wished subletting of the heart. Not mine to squat in; he’s not mine (it’s fine). But still: that sock-to-the-stomach, sudden hollow Ugh! You see the ante? I’m already un and raveling; this scanty hope swan-songing my integrity. (But maybe, also, just a little, reveling? Piñata...
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papa: the world is not on any body's shoulder, it's somewhere in the atmosphere. don't try to put it on your shoulders. TAKE IT EASY DUDE
souci
Chillwave Flow
dearoldlove:
You know I put you on to that old and new school R&B chillwave flow. Hope you’re crediting me, even if it’s just in your head.
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eskmo ft. james blake || To Care (Like you)...
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8
It was a face which darkness could kill in an instant a face as easily hurt by laughter or light ’We think differently at night’ she told me once lying back languidly And she would quote Cocteau ‘I feel there is an...
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The Wait
It seemed like years before I picked a bouquet of kisses off her mouth and put them into a dawn-colored vase in my heart. But the wait was worth it. Because I was in love.
Richard Brautigan
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she gimme good love
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Listen
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Meditation at Langunitas
All the new thinking is about loss. In this it resembles all the old thinking. The idea, for example, that each particular erases the luminous clarity of a general idea. That the clown- faced woodpecker probing the dead sculpted trunk of that black birch is, by his presence, some tragic falling off from a first world of undivided light. Or the other notion that, because there is in this world no...
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