Eliza Griswold, from "Flood", Wideawake Field: Poems
[Text ID: "Love surprises us.
It ends."]
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Tigers
by Eliza Griswold
What are we now but voices
who promise each other a life
neither one can deliver
not for lack of wanting
but wanting won’t make it so.
We cling to a vine
at the cliff’s edge.
There are tigers above
and below. Let us love
one another and let go.
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"The fossilized egg in my chest / cracks open against my will. // I was so proud not to feel my heart. / Waking means being angry."
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Eliza Griswold - Tigers
What are we now but voices
who promise each other a life
neither one can deliver
not for lack of wanting
but wanting won't make it so.
We cling to a vine
at the cliff's edge.
There are tigers above
and below. Let us love
one another and let go.
0 notes
sorry if this is specific but do you know any quotes about pomegranates in relation to love? whether it be hades/persephone related or a general idea, i’m just looking for something to add to my girlfriend’s valentines card😭 i’ve always felt the act of sharing fruit was very romantic and i got her a pomegranate patch, however i just felt adding a quote to the card might help her understand the meaning behind it a bit more. if not, i totally get it and thank you for your time!!
this is the cutest!🫀🤍
I’ll kiss you in the pomegranate garden.
From I Am the Beggar of the World: Landays from Contemporary Afghanistan, tr. by Eliza Griswold
Salma al-Khadra al-Jayyusi, ed. by Kamal Boullata, from Women of the Fertile Crescent: An Anthology of Modern Arabic Poetry by Arab Women; “Dearest Love — III”
I have sat down in the middle of the Earth, my love, in the middle of my life, to open my veins and my chest, to peel my skin like a pomegranate, and to break the red mahogany of these bones that loved you.
Gabriela Mistral, tr. by Randall Couch, From Madwomen: The Locas Mujeres Poems of Gabriela Mistral, a Bilingual Edition; “The Abandoned Woman”
Igor Severyanin, tr. by Avrahm Yarmolinsky, from Modern Russian Poetry: An Anthology; “And it passed by the sea-shore”
My heart is a fiery pomegranate, / its scarlets clustered, and its wax opened, / which could offer you its tender beads / with the stubbornness of a man in love.
Miguel Hernández, tr. by Robert Bly; “Your heart?—It is a Frozen Orange”
Jeanette Winterson, from Written on the Body
Tell them that you weren’t hungry, tell them you followed the pomegranates seeds because they tasted like blood, like love.
Pauline Albanese, from The Closed Doors
Oscar Wilde, “In the Gold Room”
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