lazycalmbloodbitch

[lazycalmbloodbitch]

© Niilas Nordenswan Photography – Ripples in space and time

[lazycalmbloodbitch]

First Draft, A Poem

I see you fading 

into the forest once again, the creatures

with their hallow gaze, the spaces between their teeth

as infinite as time

those shadows of your slowing 

footsteps

This space without a name, this plain without

home

I know it is darkness–your darkness–

in it

shadows like noises alive

only

to your senses

Tell me about this darkness, again, your darkness, for I 

have yet 

to hear of it before tonight nestled between loneliness–yours–and something 

akin to sympathy–mine–

but much less

impersonal

As I rub my fingers along your skin, ascending

methodically 

up your back, trenching through the muscle, careful to touch 

and sanctify 

each one in the foolish hope 

that from this beautiful, 

aching body–that I love–

I may extract 

every weight

every emptiness and sorrow 

plaguing you tonight–and all nights

That I may

bury this darkness somewhere

in the forest, which is why I implore of 

you to speak of it only tonight

that I may find

it’s resting place from whence 

it came 

and offer this festering creature to the soil

where

it will cease, where it will 

quiet and settle 

and hopefully rest

Then on some new morning, perhaps, rise

altered, sprouting, immoveable,

untouchable, something you never knew 

it one day 

could become

#poetry #poem

[lazycalmbloodbitch]

Jane Birkin

#jane birkin

[lazycalmbloodbitch]

"I had always, at some level apprehended, because I was born fearful, that some events in life would remain beyond my ability to control or manage them. Some events would just happen. This was one of those events. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends."

– Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking

#joan didion #the year of magical thinking

[lazycalmbloodbitch]

Aimless Love - Billy Collins

This morning as I walked along the lakeshore, I fell in love with a wren and later in the day with a mouse the cat had dropped under the dining room table. In the shadows of an autumn evening, I fell for a seamstress still at her machine in the tailor’s window, and later for a bowl of broth, steam rising like smoke from a naval battle. This is the best kind of love, I thought, without recompense, without gifts, or unkind words, without suspicion, or silence on the telephone. The love of the chestnut, the jazz cap and one hand on the wheel. No lust, no slam of the door – the love of the miniature orange tree, the clean white shirt, the hot evening shower, the highway that cuts across Florida. No waiting, no huffiness, or rancor – just a twinge every now and then for the wren who had built her nest on a low branch overhanging the water and for the dead mouse, still dressed in its light brown suit. But my heart is always propped up in a field on its tripod, ready for the next arrow. After I carried the mouse by the tail to a pile of leaves in the woods, I found myself standing at the bathroom sink gazing down affectionately at the soap, so patient and soluble, so at home in its pale green soap dish. I could feel myself falling again as I felt its turning in my wet hands and caught the scent of lavender and stone.

#poet laureate

[lazycalmbloodbitch]

Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

#poetry #sylvia plath

[lazycalmbloodbitch]

Illustration from The Moomins and the Great Flood, Tove Jansson (1945)

[lazycalmbloodbitch]

Song of the Anti-Sisyphus, Chen Chen

[lazycalmbloodbitch]

Toffle and Miffle from Who Will Comfort Toffle? (Vem Skall Trösta Knyttet?) | 1980 | based on the book by Tove Jansson from 1960

Toffle is so shy he can’t speak, and so he hides and writes what he thinks and feels in a little letter instead, and Miffle makes the entire meadow blush with love.

[lazycalmbloodbitch]

“Maybe my passion is nothing special, but at least it’s mine.”

— Tove Jansson

#tove jansson

[lazycalmbloodbitch]

I know you're going through a little darkness Your mind bracing for impact from the fall Forget the story lurking at the surface (don't you know?) When summer comes, the sun will heal us all

(full lyrics)

#delta sleep #lyrics #music #poetry #Spotify

[lazycalmbloodbitch]

"I only love with the lost and found" -Clarice Lispector

#clarice lispector #poetry #literature

[lazycalmbloodbitch]

An Untitled, Unfinished Poem (I Suppose)

You are a bath of goodness

You are a towel after rain, a dog with velvet ears needing to be scratched

Early May, or late August bursting with harvest

You are the steam rolling off the pie and the neatly organized satisfaction of saying something right

You, too, are the silliness of Halloween, the ache in that space of time between seeing a lover and the deep need for home

Don’t cover up your eyes when I tell you something wonderful and truthful, which could be 

That you are the yearning and the comfort for being held, the prick of eyes being pinched into an unavoided smile

June in all her loveliness 

I, however, do not regret to inform you that I am the blades of grass clinging to your wet skin

The first day back from break

Loose change in your pocket, an unexpected bite on the tongue, the color scheme of Easter

Politics

The word left hanging on the tip of the tongue, tax day and the dangerous task of removing a wet swimsuit

I am also the deal you missed, a burnt turkey in the oven and the part of the song that skips

But—returning to you—my dear, you are the mystery of autumn, a clean fleece blanket in a cabin, in a photo “the good side”

The last scrape of cheesecake on the plate after the candles have burned down, speaking of which,

I don’t think you are the cake at a party, but certainly the glow of candles on the faces and the beautiful uneven strings of voices carrying the tune of loveliness to someone born that day

You are the moment of skin touching before and during sex in the milky morning light and you are midnight snacks in the dark

The froth of cream like a cloud, the crackle and fizz of a celebratory drink, heralded as a toast

You are the soft, swadleness of a baby that is not yours, but which you hold just as carefully, if not more so

The sound of rollerblades and laughter

Furthermore, the bubbling feeling before an airplane takes you somewhere special

You are unexpected mist kissing skin on a broiling day and sea glass picked up by gentle sand-speckled hands

You are the comradery shared by the unanimous laughter in a theater, the anticipation of a good story’s resolution

The first real kiss

You are not the tissue administered after crying, but the pleasant exhaustion after something, even unknown, has been resolved

The perfect nap, the weight lifted, butter pressed into homemade bread, the smell of something warm being cooked in the morning

Don’t worry, I can see the look on your face as this list grows longer and longer, I have a few good things about myself too. 

I don’t see why I must share them, but your eyes tell me I must

So how about tomorrow?

#poetry #prose

[lazycalmbloodbitch]

Georgia O'Keeffe

Ladder against Wall

1961

[lazycalmbloodbitch]

“GEORGIA O’KEEFFE – HANDS AND HORSE SKULL” ALFRED STIEGLITZ // 1931 [gelatin silver print | 7 5/8 × 9 1/2″]

[lazycalmbloodbitch]

The Red Book: Liber Novus, Carl Jung

[lazycalmbloodbitch]

Elizabeth Fraser

#cocteau twins #elizabeth fraser