Olena Kalytiak Davis, Shattered Sonnets, Love Cards, and Other Off and Back Handed Importunities
Sharon Olds, True Love
Stephen Crane, In The Desert
Cameron Awkward-Rich, Meditations in an Emergency
ANTIGONE: The fields were wet. They were waiting for something to happen. The whole world was breathless, waiting. I can’t tell you what a roaring noise I seemed to make alone on the road. It bothered me that whatever was waiting, wasn’t waiting for me.
Jean Anouilh, Antigone
Etel Adnan, The Spring Flowers Own & The Manifestations of the Voyage
I’m trying to give you everything I have. But I can’t find it; I can’t find it yet.
Alice Notley, In The Pines
Anne Carson, Plainwater: Essays and Poetry
& if I were to forgive you (& I know I could)
who would be left
who would be left
to forgive me?
Hieu Minh Nguyen, Afterwards
Mahmoud Darwish, Mural
Fariha Róisín, How to Cure a Ghost
“You kiss the back of my legs and I want to cry. Only / the sun has come this close, only the sun.”
Shauna Barbosa, GPS
Mahmoud Darwish, Mural
Forough Farrokhzad, Another Birth
repetition in poetry // part i
holding hands
raised hands of great finesse, kom ombo temple - egypt // holding hands, persepolis - iran // egyptian colossal of ramesses II and the goddess sekhmet // temple of horus at edfu
Midwest America, September 2020, the year the world burned (pt. 2)
moonlight, 2020.
Björk 1993
Photographed by Sheridan Morley
Soviet poster of 1978, criticizing the aggressions of Israel against the Palestinian people. Drawing of Evgeny Abramovich Kazhdan. In the text in highlight at the top of the work, it reads: "Those who fight against oppression are maintained in imprisoned in the Palestinians occupied by Israel. For the sacred law of the Palestinian people of having their own independent state."
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Gustav Klimt - Hygieia (1907)
“Lately I’ve been thinking about who I want to love, and how I want to love, and why I want to love the way I want to love, and what I need to learn to love that way, and who I need to become to become the kind of love I want to be…and when I break it all down, when I whittle it into a single breath, it essentially comes out like this: Before I die, I want to be somebody’s favorite hiding place, the place they can put everything they know they need to survive, every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, and be absolutely certain I will keep it safe. I will keep it safe.”
— Andrea Gibson
India, Delhi, 1972. People sleeping near the Red Fort, by Ferdinando Scianna.
christina bothwell