#mary szybist

[derangedrhythms]

⁠— but how I wanted you.

⁠Mary Szybist, Granted; from 'Apology'

#mary szybist #granted #apology #poetry #excerpts #o

[poetrysmackdown]

#round1 #poetry #poll #ada limon #mary szybist

[undinesea]

Here I am, having bathed carefully in the syllables of your name, in the air and the sea of them,

Mary Szybist, from Hail

#mary szybist #poetry

[morepeachyogurt]

i just want to stay on the phone with you

1. roland barthes; a lovers discourse | 2. bojack horseman; the view from half way down | 3. mary szybist | 4. art by danny lai lai. lyrics by hozier; as it was | 5. boygenius; ketchum, id | 6. when harry met sally |

#sorry i’m ill #bojack horseman #boygenuis #web weaving #parallels #compilations #the human condition #hozier #danny lai lai #roland barthes #mary szybist

[lillyli-74]

I had imagined death thrillingly.

~Mary Szybist

#mary szybist

[llovelymoonn]

mary szybist on wanting to tell [] about a girl eating fish eyes

support me

#i think i've found my new favourite poet #mary szybist #on wanting to tell [] about a girl eating fish eyes

[fawnaura]

Wanting her was so close to prayer—

Mary Szybist, from Incarnadine: Poems; “Conversion Figure”

#quote #mary szybist #incarnadine poems #poetry #desire #her

[geryone]

Incarnadine, Mary Szybist

#quotes #quote #poem #poetry #Mary Szybist

[thensson]

I haven't given you what you need (i'm sorry)

Bloodsport, Yves Olade || Conversations Over Sanguinaccio Dolce, I.B. Vyache || Incardine, Mary Szybist || Richard Siken || Agua Viva, Clarice Lispector || Calling a Wolf a Wolf, Kaveh Akbar || Stay, Reynier Llanes || Underbelly, Nicole Homer

#web weaving #academia #dark academia #poems and quotes #poetry #romantic academia #richard siken #siken #yves olade #i b vyache #mary szybist #clarice lispector #kaveh akbar #reynier llanes #nicole homer #painting #art #on pain #and hurting others #on being sorry #on being human #on relationships

[milkymarble]

we’ve made it past the equinox, mold the day with your bare hands.

barbara crooker, anna akhmatova, mervyn peake, mary szybist, vedovamazzei

#poetry #poem #web weaving #collage #mary szybist #barbara crooker #anna akhmatova #mervyn peake

[derangedrhythms]

How (Not) to Speak of God who has tried to reach us, who will do anything to reach us who is enough, who is more than enough who should be extolled with our sugared tongues who knows us in our burnished windshields as we pass who remembers the honey-colored husks of the locust who knows the scent of dust, the scent of each sparrow whose shadow does not flicker under streetlights who can feel without exaggerating anything who will care when the iridescent flies swarm toward us who shall be as the wings of the dove, its coppery shadows who waits in the midst of the mosquitoes who devoured the fruit of our ground, the skin of the overripe pears who saw the world incarnadined, the current flowing whose face is electrified by its own light who could be a piece of flame, a piece of mind shimmering who can feel without eroticizing everything who will pity us when the bees disappear into their shadows who loves the dank earth, its wolves and its tigresses

Mary Szybist, from 'Incarnadine'

#mary szybist #incarnadine #how (not) to speak of god #poetry #the holiness and horror of divine things

[ardent-reflections]

"I only dream of your ankles brushed by dark violets, of honeybees above you murmuring into a crown."

Mary Szybist, from Incarnadine

#Mary Szybist #from Incarnadine #literature #poetry #poem #poems and quotes #spilled thoughts #words #quotes #lit #love quotes

[poem-today]

A poem by Mary Szybist

The Lushness of It 

It’s not that the octopus wouldn’t love you— not that it wouldn’t reach for you  with each of its tapering arms:

you’d be as good as anyone, I think, to an octopus.  But the creatures of the sea, like the sea, don’t think 

about themselves, or you.  Keep on floating there, cradled, unable to burn.  Abandon  yourself to the sway, the ruffled eddies, abandon 

your heavy legs to the floating meadows              of seaweed and feel                          the bloom of phytoplankton, spindrift, sea- spray, barnacles.  In the dark benthic realm, the slippery neckton glide over the abyssal plains: as you float, feel                                      that upwelling of cold, deep water touch the skin stretched over                           your spine.  Feel  fished for and slapped.  No, it’s not that the octopus  wouldn’t love you.  If it touched,

if it tasted you, each of its three  hearts would turn red.

Will theologians of any confession refute me? Not the bluecap salmon.  Not its dotted head.

Mary Szybist

Listen to Mary Szybist read her poem (46:20).

More poems by Mary Szybist are available through her website.

#mary szybist #american poetry #incarnadine #the lushness of it #octopus

[warismenstrualenvy]

Mary Szybist, The Cathars Etc.

#poetry #mary szybist #incarnadine

[lillyli-74]

Photography by Tom Jambon

There was something soft and moist about her, a dare, a rage, an intolerable tenderness.

~Mary Szybist

#mary szybist

[llovelymoonn]

mary szybist touch gallery: “joan of arc”

kofi

#mary szybist #touch of gallery: joan of arc #incarnadine #poetry #poet #poets #poem #poems