lifeinpoetry:

she becomes the monstrous goddess
of binge / pure mercenary lack  

the blooded face  

blood in the water  

the blood moon’s exposed sweet throat
with its lipsticked jugular bitten clean out

— Lee Ann Roripaugh, from “hungry tsunami / tsunami as galactus,” tsunami vs. the fukushima 50

lovlettres:

bostonpoetryslam:

“Here’s what the biologist taught me in that whiskey bar: if your ancestor dies in a mudslide, you learn to run. We inherit everything. Especially questions.”

— Hala Alyan, “The Honest Wife,” from The Twenty-Ninth Year

lifeinpoetry:

If I could do girlhood again, I’d ask

to be scarier. Less whimpering—more pyromaniac

urges, more flirting with kerosene.

— Sally Wen Mao, from “Drop-kick Aria,” Mad Honey Symposium

soracities:

“Blood: / music in the branches of the veins
                                                              touch: / light in the night of the bodies”

Octavio Paz, ‘Letter of Testimony’

intopermanence:

“Kisses like bullets, soap-flavored kisses, kisses from lips that feel like wet calf’s-brains. Let go let go let really go.”

— Susan Sontag, from Reborn: “December, 1956”

wishbzne:

“The heart drops in the center of an inexhaustible lake. How light the heart appears, yet how weighty a thing.”

— Patti Smith, from Written By a Lake

violentwavesofemotion:

“to drag from the guts / what’s in the guts / terror and hunger.”

— Zbigniew Herbert, from Chord of Light: Poems; “Mr. Cogito and Pop,”

luthienne:

luthienne:

“Things! / Burn them, burn them! Make a beautiful / fire! More room in your heart for love, / for the trees! For the birds who own / nothing—the reason they can fly.”

— Mary Oliver, from Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver; “Storage”

soracities:

“I don’t know why the memories grow while I shrink. I don’t remember what I wanted to say. I don’t want to say what I remember.”

— Dunya Mikhail, from ‘Buzz’, The War Works Hard (trans. Elizabeth Winslow)