Tumgik
Photo
Tumblr media
Sea Storm, Mont Saint-Michel, France
photo via darkmoon
24K notes · View notes
sublimedevastation · 2 days
Text
Remembering
by Rainer Maria Rilke
And you wait. You wait for the one thing that will change your life, make it more than it is— something wonderful, exceptional, stones awakening, depths opening to you.
In the dusky bookstalls old books glimmer gold and brown. You think of lands you journeyed through, of paintings and a dress once worn by a woman you never found again.
And suddenly you know: that was enough. You rise and there appears before you in all its longings and hesitations the shape of what you lived.
2K notes · View notes
sublimedevastation · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
ketzal_coatl
8K notes · View notes
sublimedevastation · 2 days
Photo
Tumblr media
662K notes · View notes
sublimedevastation · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
Charles Baudelaire, from Modern Poets of France: An Anthology; "Ruin,"
454 notes · View notes
sublimedevastation · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
248 notes · View notes
sublimedevastation · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
sublimedevastation · 2 days
Photo
Tumblr media
76K notes · View notes
sublimedevastation · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media
Sanndy Anghan
560 notes · View notes
sublimedevastation · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media
Ota Janeček
(Czech, 1919–1996)
"Illustration (To The Children)", 1961.
Private Collection.
350 notes · View notes
sublimedevastation · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media
Calm
95 notes · View notes
sublimedevastation · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media
Vincenzo Sguera
3K notes · View notes
sublimedevastation · 3 days
Photo
Tumblr media
306 notes · View notes
sublimedevastation · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media
138 notes · View notes
sublimedevastation · 5 days
Text
The Pages You Loved
Foresee how dried, yellowed, with neglect, think
of the hands that made them, not with love, with certainty,
the leather smooth decades later, the pages warm as wood,
the thought reaching a seed that fell from a bird’s flight,
a hoof tucking it in folds of loam, wispy roots sending it deeper
into the dark, the thought like a hair in your throat.
Earth knows no such ambivalence, good to itself, mending,
dampening sends you to self- ignited forests, hordes fleeing,
blazes in what was there before mouths came to call them eyes,
fear and fire, how close the thought wanders into flood
and drought and motions attributed to a fist-sized heart.
All those rocked, senses quaked, those eyes flooding and welling
add up to a stone rolling down a mountainside
into salt water, the sum the size of a cloud or glacier thawed.
Shut the book, the thought writes itself like yeast;
seam the sky, a smoky tail, fastened by the measure of limitation.
And you the world’s watcher, moments at the mirror allowed as achievement,
the wisp of wheat (highlights) in the coffee of her hair,
the two of you hand in hand across a window display,
a clip from that day in Eden the short footage of days recalled—
all illuding fingers, hidden under the sheet’s grain.
-Khaled Mattawa
5 notes · View notes
sublimedevastation · 5 days
Text
Woods of Ypres - Dirty Window Of Opportunity (Can You Get Here In 10 Day...
youtube
3 notes · View notes
sublimedevastation · 5 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
L'amour l'après midi (1972)
185 notes · View notes