(via hypnus)
Not Stupid Enough, Barbara Kruger
"
at this moment i am sickened by the urge
to smash. my thighs present themselves
stillborn, misshapened wings within me
"Wanda Coleman, Mercurochrome
(via ihatenietzsche)
"I’m disappointed that some contemporary women poets might want to give up “voice,” as if that were possible or good. Voicelessness wouldn’t make a point that anyone outside a coterie would get; veiling the speaker hedges issues and responsibility for what’s said and what’s lived, individually and communally."
Alice Notley, taken from her essay “Voice” published in Coming After: Essays on Poetry (via travelcoat)
"I stood waiting” “for some minutes” “in this very” “alive darkness—” “the air so vibrant,” “the trees awake” “There were flowers,” “mixed grasses,” “growing lower” “in the dark,” “& I was relieved” “to be near them” “after so much time” “where nothing grew” “Then” “I heard a song” “faint & blurred,” “a slow song” “I heard it” “as if through walls” “As if” “there were a room” “next to where I stood” “& someone,” “a man,” “sang inside of it” “The tune was sad,” “& attracting” “I approached it—” “where its source seemed to be—” “& it moved away from me” “just a” “short distance” “This happened twice” “Then I understood” “I was to follow it:” “& so it led me—” “through deep woods” “& clearings,” “for” “a long while” “The voice sang” “the same melody” “over” “& over” “mournful” “& intimate” “in a language” “I didn’t recognize—” “or didn’t think I did:” “it was hard to” “hear the words—” “Till at last we” “reached a meadow” “where the song” “ceased to sound,” “pale & empty” “with trees around it” “Then I sank to” “the ground” “& fell asleep for” “a long time” “But when I awoke” “of course” “it was dark"
Alice Notley (via singing-owl)
(Source: witch-gloss, via eyes-of-the-fancy)
"There is a species / that comes out at night // to grow its teeth. It knows / about tenderness."
from “Self Portrait with Night Light” by Vera Kroms
