Don’t listen to anyone. Trust what gives you pleasure. Trust the emotions. If you love something but can’t explain why, that’s enough. – Calice Becker
photographed by nina leen from the life magazine archives, date unknown. – Miss Moss. for those who think i’m a hippy. i provide my inspiration, the contrary.
where you had only to touch me other had to present a history a bibliography, a justification but no question remains, that a gift easily given lightly received is wasted no one can touch me the way you can/ I should say did but no question remains your touch was not lightly taken and my… Read More To Celebrate My Body
At the pet store on Court Street, I search for the perfect fish. The black moor, the blue damsel, cichlids and neons. Something to distract your sadness, something you don’t need to love you back. Maybe a goldfish, the flaring tail, orange, red-capped, pearled body, the darting translucence? Goldfish are ordinary, the boy selling fish… Read More Goldfish Are Ordinary
There was a day when I was an equation of one. and you were the same. each of us spinning, individually in our own worlds. and then, we collided with the force of a thousand stars. the sparks, oh they flew. lighting fires everywhere they fell. and then we were two, together. the moon and… Read More There was a day …
I heard a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sate reclined, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. To her fair works did Nature link The human soul that through me ran; And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man. Through… Read More Lines Written in Early Spring
Come, come, whoever you are. Wonderer, worshipper, lover of leaving. It doesn’t matter. Ours is not a caravan of despair. Come, even if you have broken your vow a thousand times Come, yet again, come, come. — Rumi
I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain — and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked down the saddest city lane. I have passed by the watchman on his beat And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. I have stood still and… Read More Acquainated With The Night