Warmth and comfort of home and food,
Golden glow of happiness and love 🧡
i’ve been bed rotting in a decidedly self destructive way lately
being and nothingness, jean-paul sartre // the metamorphosis, franz kafka // i am the architect of my own destruction, juansen dizon // albert camus // as consciousness is harnessed, susan sontag // ralph waldo emerson // allen ginsberg // tennesse williams // letters to felice, franz kafka // sylvia plath
@rbhvleo // roberto ferri // mothering by ainslie hogarth // rainer maria rilke // ? // planet of love by richard siken // a self portrait in letters by anne sexton // indian summer by ron hicks
Memories of another life, a life before loss, a life turned to memory long before death
-Memory
What is it with the October air,
reminds me of all the things bright and fair,
days are strange, sun, rain and mist,
I'm back to those houses not made of cement and bricks,
picking lemons, making wells of mud and houses of wet sand,
where the morning air was warm, burning feet, dunes and desert land,
making toys of clay, dolls of rugs, money of leaves, boats of paper,
tumbling down the sand dunes, running in the storms of sand filled air,
Limestone walls, a room just for water, an old well, pots of clay,
where birds and i shared drinks of cold water on a warm sunny day,
I do not have clothes stung with tiny starry thorns anymore,
the days full of wonder, hair full of sand, swings on tree branches are gone,
years are lost and I have wandered far from nest, memory turning to stone,
i do not sleep under the stars anymore, perhaps I've lost the idea of home.
- Prity
11-11-24
“September days have the warmth of summer in their briefer hours, but in their lengthening evenings a prophetic breath of autumn.”
― Rowland E. Robinson
Fernando pessoa // Frida Kahlo
Czeslaw Milosz, New and Collected Poems: 1931-2001
paintings of me trying to get out of bed in the morning
All things good and green 💚🕊
“Don’t wait for things to get easier, simpler, better. Life will always be complicated. Learn to be happy right now. Otherwise, you’ll run out of time.”
— Unknown
Academia lover | Poet in quiet hours | Books & soft skies 🤍
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