#poe

It is impossible to be a mathematician without being a poet in soul. ↗

— Sofia Kovalevskaya

#impossible #mathematician #poet #soul #without

I. Those of us born by water are never afraid enough of drowning. Bruises used to trophy my knees from my death-defying tree climb jumps. Growing up, my backyard was a forest of blackberry bushes. I learned early nothing sweet will come to you unthorned. II. At twelve your body becomes a currency. So Jenny and I sat down and cut up all our clothes into nothing. That year I failed math class but knew the exact number of calories in a carrot stick. I learned early being desired goes hand in hand with hunger. III. The last time I tried to scream I felt my father climbing up through my throat and into my mouth. IV. There is a certain kind of girl who reads Lolita at fourteen and finds religion. I painted my eyes black and sucked barroom cherries to red my tongue. There was a boy who promised Judas really did love Jesus. I learned early every kiss and betrayal are up for interpretation. V. I think he must have conferenced with my nightmares on exactly how to hurt me. VI. He never broke my heart. He only turned it into a compass that always points me back to him. ↗

— Clementine von Radics

#death

He could build a city. Has a certain capacity. There’s a niche in his chest where a heart would fit perfectly and he thinks if he could just maneuver one into place – well then, game over. ↗

— Richard Siken

#richard-siken #niche

Poetry is the liquid voice that can wear through stone. ↗

— Adrienne Rich

#rich

Like the best convenience store in the world, / the mind is always open. ↗

— Leza Lowitz

#poetry #yoga #yoga

What wretched poverty of language! To compare stars to diamonds! ↗

— Gustave Flaubert

#poetry #stars #poverty

It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart. ↗

— Rainer Maria Rilke

#poems-of-blood-and-passion #spring #spring

The time has come," the walrus said, "to talk of many things: Of shoes and ships - and sealing wax - of cabbages and kings ↗

— Lewis Carroll

#carpenter #poem #walrus #walrus-and-the-carpenter #king

I? I walk alone; The midnight street Spins itself from under my feet; My eyes shut These dreaming houses all snuff out; Through a whim of mine Over gables the moon's celestial onion Hangs high. I Make houses shrink And trees diminish By going far; my look's leash Dangles the puppet-people Who, unaware how they dwindle, Laugh, kiss, get drunk, Nor guess that if I choose to blink They die. I When in good humour, Give grass its green Blazon sky blue, and endow the sun With gold; Yet, in my wintriest moods, I hold Absolute power To boycott color and forbid any flower To be. I Know you appear Vivid at my side, Denying you sprang out of my head, Claiming you feel Love fiery enough to prove flesh real, Though it's quite clear All your beauty, all your wit, is a gift, my dear, From me. From "Soliloquy of the Solipsist ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#beauty

Trying to build myself up with the fact that I have done things right that were even good and have had moments that were excellent but the bad is heavier to carry around and feel have no confidence. ↗

— Marilyn Monroe

#fragments #intimate-notes #letters #marilyn-monroe #poems