thepocketmouse:

Sanda Pagaimo

(Source: fernsandmoss)

Take me to your trees. Take me to your breakfasts, your sunsets, your bad dreams, your shoes, your nouns. Take me to your fingers.

— Margaret Atwood, Good Bones  (via commovente)

We resembled each other like two drops of water, but we had two different reflections.
-Salvador Dàli

Dead Horse

 by Thomas Lux

At the fence line, I was about to call him in when,
at two-thirds profile, head down
and away from me, he fell first
to his left front knee
and then the right, and he was down,
dead before he hit the...
My father saw him drop, too,
and a neighbor, who walked over.
He was a good horse, old,
foundered, eating grass during the day
and his oats and hay 
at night. He didn't mind
or try to boss the cows
with which he shared these acres.
My father said: "Happens." Our neighbor
walked back to his place
and was soon grinding towards us
with his new backhoe,
of which he was proud
but so far only used to dig two sump holes.
It was the knacker 
we'd usually call to haul away a cow.
A horse, a good horse, you buried
where he, or she, fell. Our neighbor
cut a trench
beside the horse
and we pushed him in.
I'd already said goodbye
before I closed his eyes.
Our neighbor returned the dirt.
In it, there were stones,
stones never, never seen before
by a human's,
nor even a worm's, eye.
Malcolm, our neighbor's name,
returned the dirt from where it came
and, with the back of a shovel,
we tamped it down
as best we could. One dumb cow
stood by.
It was a Friday, 
I remember, for supper we ate hot dogs, with beans
on buttered white bread, every Friday,
hot dogs and beans.

Physics says: go to sleep. Of course
you’re tired. Every atom in you
has been dancing the shimmy in silver shoes
nonstop from mitosis to now.
Quit tapping your feet. They’ll dance
inside themselves without you. Go to sleep.

Geology says: it will be all right. Slow inch
by inch America is giving itself
to the ocean. Go to sleep. Let darkness
lap at your sides. Give darkness an inch.
You aren’t alone. All of the continents used to be
one body. You aren’t alone. Go to sleep.

Astronomy says: the sun will rise tomorrow,
Zoology says: on rainbow-fish and lithe gazelle,
Psychology says: but first it has to be night, so
Biology says: the body-clocks are stopped all over town
and
History says: here are the blankets, layer on layer, down and down.

— “The Sciences Sing a Lullaby,” Albert Goldbarth  (via commovente)

(Source: betweenlegs)

‘If the girl had been worth having she’d have waited for you?’ No, sir, the girl really worth having won’t wait for anybody.

— F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise 
(via thenightbeforethedayafter)

(Source: littleblips)

You, the sleep I lose,
and the reason that pulls me
from the bed each day.

— Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)

filmphoria:

(by pocky poki poki)

(Source: filmphoria)

Flowers are restful to look at. They have neither emotions nor conflicts.

— Sigmund Freud (via radhika-chandra)

(Source: inspirationallust)

bryant:

Madeleine wearing Margiela.