[how long until you leave me here, telling yourself it is a favour? how long until my bones lay bare, scorched, powdered on the pavement?] - d.lg
poetry ig here
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totally me. lost in it. nothing else. bring on oblivion. now.
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Read, read, read. Read everything -- trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Just like a carpenter who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You'll absorb it. Then write. If it's good, you'll find out. If it's not, throw it out of the window.
— William Faulkner.
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《Rima XXIV》
Dos rojas lenguas de fuego
que, a un mismo tronco enlazadas,
se aproximan, y al besarse
forman una sola llama;
dos notas que del laúd
a un tiempo la mano arranca,
y en el espacio se encuentran
y armoniosas se abrazan;
dos olas que vienen juntas
a morir sobre una playa
y que al romper se coronan
con un penacho de plata;
dos jirones de vapor
que del lago se levantan
y al juntarse allá en el cielo
forman una nube blanca;
dos ideas que al par brotan,
dos besos que a un tiempo estallan,
dos ecos que se confunden,
eso son nuestras dos almas.
Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer
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— Frank Bidart, from “Half-light: Collected Poems 1965-2016; ‘The Third Hour of the Night’", published c. 2017.
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"I'll be all the poets, I'll kill them all and take each one's place in turn, and every time love's written in all the strands it will be to you."
~ Amal El-Mohtar & Max Gladstone, This is How You Lose the Time War
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