All of My Prosaic Waiting / Ask / Archive / Me / Art,etc / About / Writing

Kind of disappointed that the example or synonym ‘gentle’ isn’t found in any of the definitions of the word Gentleman, because that’s how I’ve come to see it, quite literally I suppose. At least in the heart.

trixclibrarian:

a ventriloquist
with a squirrel doll
dog throws his voice
down the hall
where the barking comes
from wakes up
in the morning
without a collar
but I can’t find it
anywhere no matter
how hard I look
or ignore it

(via dereblogs)

alongtimealone:

https://www.facebook.com/kkewley?fref=photo ken kewley
calvinbrett:

PortholeCustom prints available 2011 
I’ll tell you a secret: my dress is beautiful, and I don’t want to die.

Clarice Lispector, Soulstorm (via
loneberry)

(via kdecember)

I want to return to that place, the tiny
fishing village in Alaska

I remember the scent of my Father,
Sea salt, sawdust and crab

I was thinking of the soul, the way
you can float inside of it.

All that I love tonight — ideas of you in
this small sigh of a room, tiny little totems, one bird calling out, books scattered quietly — might
all be lost tomorrow.

If you look at the ugliness of the world, the
homeless woman in a doorway, at her worn dress of rags and old news
You might see a kind of beauty.

After the funeral, after people carried correct things to say in their hats,
we returned to our lives


The gulls follow the boat, awkwardly
balanced in the hurried winds.


Items II

сушка by tailakova on Flickr. Les Seifer

elizabeth—avenged:

My own recovery “before-and-after” photos: I don’t need to show progress photos of my weight gain to indicate the progress I’ve made since April. Just look at my the difference in my countenance, my expressions, my energy. Recovery is not about the weight; recovery is about finding life within yourself again.

My god my hours are so off. I keep returning to the night. There must be too many things stuck. Crossed fingers for a storm, a pen and a good cup of Earl Grey. Night grasp my hand, like a child I will follow you into it. Things that frighten tilt my head in wonder. Things that joke break my heart, it won’t matter. When I let go, let me sleep, wherever I lay.

theme