do not let this universe regret you– marty mcconnel
and then you call me.
fuck you, internet.
these days opening my laptop happens before the curtains. it comes before my teeth get clean, my bladder gets empty. i want to know which boy left a poem in my mailbox that night. a coded twitter update. words like “happy” or “gorgeous” on a facebook picture. no one is born loving themselves. our fathers let us dance on their feet and tell us we are the princesses of our...
it’s pouring right now and it wouldn’t be so bad if i had someone to run through it with in other words, i f y o u w e r e h e r e in fewer words: poetry.
can you look me straight in the heart and swear that you’re driving me...– -titanium pussy. i know you’re gonna have to lie.
professor: well, i hope no one here went overseas on an airplane this break because of swine flu and all.
me: ummmmmmmmm.... shit.
my skin is peeling off in sheets. i am not sure if it is some second-hand suntan or my body trying to rid me of myself. the peeling process seems neverending. if i had the patience to husk layer by layer i wonder who i might become. i’d save the sheets and write something on them if my pen didn’t tear through, like i had never been born.
and i’m standing here wondering how he looks with me still smeared all...– -eden. he looks beautiful. still.
i have heard if you unplugged nirvana, heard Cobain sigh before the last two...– james merenda. dear tumblr, this quote is worthy of being on thr radar. get with it.
Go be that starving artist you’re afraid to be. Open up that journal and get...– Jason Mraz (via cigarettes-and-tea) (via pacificocean) (via thoughtsdetained) (via rockslut) (via eatsky) okay jason mraz, personally most of your music makes me think of you as a douchebag, but i’m kind of feeling this quote right now. but i suppose that’s easy to say once you’ve...
i am actually a reincarnated version of my moms best friend through the 70s-80s...– Megan Falley, a wonderful person who has made my last two mornings pretty glorious (via jamesmerenda) Sometimes I lay in bed and try not to move. I want to know what Bruce feels. It is only a matter of minutes before I swat an imagined mosquito, Before my cheek finds the cooler side of the pillow...
if you were a country your chief export would be beauty. you make it happen all...– james merenda to me, (t)his morning and my night.
I should like to change into a sunflower most of all. They’re so tall and...– —Maude, in “Harold and Maude.” (via chewyfally) the philosophy of maude is the only one i can seem to follow.
your blog makes New Zealand look like you wrote it yourself.– august johnson.
unfollowfriday: did you SERIOUSLY just post “i can’t pay my rent, but i’m prettier than you.” did you REALLLLLY just press publish post and write “ugh. i hate being friends with models.” it’s GPOYW, not GPOWMTWTFSS. put a shirt on. did your “criteria” for a boy/girlfriend really say “someone smarter and prettier than me.” NOT TOO HARD. unfollow. HAHAHAHAHAHA YESSSSS. i’ve submitted at...
my second imovie video on life in samoa. what do you think?
le petit prince
!!!! this girl has the little prince tattoo that i’ve wanted since july now. and it looks perfect on her and i covet covet covet. i do not have the money to afford a tattoo in any time in the recent future, so MOM & DAD, this is a completely hypothetical and fantastical question i am posing. since i already have the tattoo of the sun on my back, and it would probably be too hectic to have...
sometimes I imagine Hitler at seven years old, a paintbrush in his hand at...– from “Dive” by Andrea Gibson (via maishaparadox)
anis mojgani, i love your work. →
how did we get here?
our drunken compasses the spider veins growing in decaying maps a stolen road sign. thank you.
prompt: 5 things in front of you, make metaphors.
Flower food Kindergarten T-shirt A photo of the open road Earrings made of coconuts The poem you wrote. i do not feed the bouquet you sent the flower food- because skinny pretty things are the only kind of pretty things ( i learned this in the magazine aisle of an airport bookstore. ) a t-shirt i wore in kindergarden, and then again at sixteen, the one with the tear near the navel, it...
a selection from an e-mail by who other...
solartime: Um, and is it possible to have all the hip hoppers in one car so there can be no confusion with the musical selection? It seems like everytime I get into a car with poets, they wanna prove how ecclectic and how their musical sensibilities are more finely tuned than mine. I don’t give fuck about Bjork/Bach fusion for fuck’s sake. gimme the boom bap. i know this sounds like a bowl of...
and neither of us want to talk about anything when we can’t get past each...– oh, eden. i will name one of my children after your poems.
my first radio interview! →
upcoming ass-kicking journalist tracy soren interviews me on my experience as a slam poet in new york. my favorite parts: “for that slam, falley used a poem about her drug addicted brother.” hahahahaha. TACT tracy, tact. where i speak about omni over a recording of a poem in the background. tracy’s getting fancy. “i think it’s really important to be...
I never wash my pants. I like to keep the night on them.– Nick, Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist (via plasticlumber) i never washed the old shirt you gave me before i left. i don’t want to wash you out of it.
Sometimes when you can hold the beautiful things, they die.– Megan Falley, you don’t know how much you just made my body shake (via jamesmerenda) what james here is referring to is “looking out a bus window” a poem i wrote my sophomore year of college. what he (& you) may not know is that this poem was written in eden’s car while the...
they were so green, they made me nervous.
i could give up my breath for brushstrokes, and i know i would never get your eyes right.
on skype break-ups.
and skype said “are you sure you want to hang up the call?” and you know i really wasn’t sure, but i turned my face away and clicked “yes” and just like that you were gone, back in your country and me in mine.
Whether or not that moral is true in the real world, it’s alluringly true in the...– Marginal Revolution (via 0227)
I really just want to be warm yellow light that pours over everyone I love.– Conor Oberst (via hatchasaurus-rex)