this is what it means to be human
Everything, Mary Oliver
The Breathing, Denise Levertov
A Prayer by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
The Laughing Heart by Charles Bukowski
Like a Small Café, That’s Love by Mahmoud Darwish (translated by Mohammad Shaheen)
Having a Coke with You by Frank O’Hara
Eating Together by Li-Young Lee
The Orange by Wendy Cope
The Quiet Machine, Ada Limón
To Go Mad, Paruyr Sevak
Our Beautiful Life When It’s Filled with Shrieks by Christopher Citro
Hammond B3 Organ Cistern, Gabrielle Calvocoressi
Peace XVIII, Khalil Gibran
Your Unripe Love, Paruyr Sevak (from “Anthology of Armenian poetry")
Here and Now by Peter Balakian
Ich finde dich (I find you) by Rainer Maria Rilke
The Thing Is by Ellen Bass
One Art by Elizabeth Bishop
Miss you. Would like to take a walk with you. by Gabrielle Calvocoressi
I Want to Write Something So Simply by Mary Oliver
What's Not to Love by Brendan Constantine
Where does such tenderness come from? by Marina Tsvetaeva
You Are Tired (I Think) by E. E. Cummings
Living With the News by W.S.Merwin
What the Living Do by Marie Howe
Bruce & Minhkhoa By HO
Jewelry by Moon and Serpent
when it’s that time of day
The Moon Falls a Thousand Times by Naeemeh Naeemaei
“i want them to kiss” good for you! i want them tearing each other apart limb from limb just to feel something. i want them creating wounds and scars just to leave a permanent mark on the other. i want them poking and prodding mercilessly at each other’s most vulnerable secrets but keeping them nonetheless.
sorry i’m late i slithered here from eden just to hide outside your door
touch-starvation needs to be written with emphasis on the starving part. you are hungry to be touched. so hungry that even the very taste of it makes you nauseous. it has been long since anything has ever touched you, ever fed you - that your body has grown more used to that gnawing emptiness more than anything else. it's better for you to be held, to eat but it makes you sick to try. you know
I hope everyone grows tired of being cruel to each other soon
i care (or do i?)
i wrote something about the burden of concern and care, and how it'll never be enough, and it'll never compare to that one completely perfect person that is always haunting your actions. enjoy.