studio prive

“ “It is not everyday that the world arranges itself into a poem.”

— Wallace Stevens, American Modernist poet (1879-1955), cited in David Madden, A primer of the novel, Scarecrow Press, 1980, p. 192. (via amiquote)

(via dreaminginthedeepsouth)

» I believed it was June when i needed blue.

Have been blogging on a secondary blog in spite of the primary username. Just a shout-out if anyone’s interested to find out where the posts are.

(via papertissue)

“ I have lost a telephone
with your smell in it
I am living beside the radio
all the stations at once
but I pick out a Polish lullaby
I pick it out of the static
it fades I wait I keep the beat
it comes back almost alseep Did you take the telephone
knowing I’d sniff it immoderately
maybe heat up the plastic
to get all the crumbs of your breath and if you won’t come back
how will you phone to say
you won’t come back
so that I could at least argue

— Waiting for Marianne from “Flowers for Hitler”.
Leonard Cohen: Poems

“ I spent one hour thinking of a verse
my pen does not want to write.
yet, it is here inside
restless, alive.
it is here inside
and does not wish to get out.
but the poetry of this very moment
overflows my whole life.

— carlos drummond de andrade, poetry (via kruczynski)

(via leopoldgursky)

fatalistichues: nomoreundead: (via noise-and-tangerines)

The Killing Moon - Echo & the Bunnymen.

crashinglybeautiful: Joaquin Rodrigo & Paco De Lucia, guitar - Concierto de Aranjuez [Adagio] from: zveneczi & lucette

mylifeasateacup: black-and-white: kari-shma: leggage. by =Pretty-As-A-Picture

hellovagina:

soap&skin - maybe not (cat power cover)

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh … And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

- E.E Cummings