ronk:

“And sorry I could not travel both…”

              - Robert Frost

wannabewritersposts:

Two roads diverged in a wood and I-

took the one less travelled by

and that has made all the difference

simplyfroggy:

ALT

by june bates

what-iz-life:

Your soul knows. It will literally tell you when it’s time to start a new chapter of your life. Trust it.

derangedrhythms:

ALT

Georg Trakl, Poems and Prose: Poems from Der Brenner 1914/5; from ‘The Thunderstorm’, tr. Alexander Stillmark

(via latibule-e-deactivated20231012)

violentwavesofemotion:

Christa Wolf, tr. by John Cullen, from “Medea,” originally published c. 1996

(via latibule-e-deactivated20231012)

devotion2:

“Honey, my earth is merciful. You understand? / I call you mine not as ownership but because / you are a part of me.”

— Nikki Wallschlaeger, from “Anti Elegy,” published in The Offing

(via heartcountry)

metamorphesque:

― Salma Deera, Letters From Medea

[text ID: The centre of every poem is this: / I have loved you. / I have had to deal with that.]

(via metamorphesque)

tiny-kt:

passionate-lovely-soul:

jupitersmusings:

good things will happen 🧿

things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿

THIS ONE FUCKING WORKS. REBLOG IT.

this for real fucking works

(via houndsister)

flowerytale:

Susan Sontag, from “The Dummy”, featured in I, Etcetera: Stories

apocryphics:

flannery o'connor

dailykafka:

dailykafka:

- August 13, 1913

- The diaries of Franz Kafka, 1910-1913

- Letters to Felice, 1912-1917

altruisticwriter:

altruisticwriter:

“I killed a plant once because i gaveit too much water. Lord, I worry that love is violence.”

-joseolivarez

Plant

typewriter-worries:

flowerytale:

Margaret Atwood, from “Late Poems”, Dearly

[ Text ID: These are the late poems. / Most poems are late / of course: too late, / like a letter sent by a sailor / that arrives after he’s drowned. ]