Ruby in the Rough

Mask Poem

All that remains of his presence
is a plaster cast of his face
it’s as evocative and ghostlike
as when it was first made
It’s heavy, as though filled
with flesh and bones and sinew
not layers of gauze, scrapes of clay
Hold it up to your cheek
Let him whisper a poem in your ear

all the language I have — so far today — removed

anneboyer:

 ”Poetry is at its best always at the very end of itself, a ladder propped on nothing, a heap of aspirants crowded on the ladder’s top rung. Then someone invents something else (not a ladder).”

"I live by tangible experience and not by logical explanation."

- Georges Bataille, L’Expérience intérieure (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)

"Once I was beset by anxiety but I pushed the fear away by studying the sky, determining when the moon would come out and where the sun would appear in the morning."

- Louise Bourgeois (via countryfried)

(via lazy-flower)

"I think about you. But I don’t say it anymore."

- Marguerite Duras

(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via loveage-moondream)

"The zines feature song lyrics, stickers and newspaper cutouts and are examples of DIY publicity, work that reflects the necessity of distributing ideas over aesthetics."

DIY or Die at Milk

"My brain hums with scraps of poetry and madness."

- Virginia Woolf, Selected Letters 

(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via avvfvl)