luther – Little Bristling Soul

Alfred Tennyson

A soft breeze
With the slippery concrete black and full of muddy slush
Contrasting with the hoarfrost, clean and hung
On a tunnel of silent shivering trees
The ones you said you’d like to be
And the birds that screamed at the sun

Now buried deep below the ground
Beneath the snow, I press my shoulder to this wall between us
I know you are behind me and I press my shoulder to this wall
Determined not to turn around

I didn’t see you standing
Still that statue that I molded in my mind to kiss
So beautiful you’ll never move again

Someplace far away
At some sad table littered with chipped plates
With bad light in 48 frames from a movie on the cutting room floor
You said, “True meaning would be dying with you”
And though I wanted to, I did not smile

But now I will give up on this wall that I have fought with
Never uncover meaning behind our rich words
If I could I would make you a raging river
With angry rapids, plied with rain
So you could always meander
And forever be able to run away

Without contending
With myths wrongly interpreted
With pain

A harsh wind
A harsh wind

Source: Spotify

Elegy by Linda Pastan

Our final dogwood leans
over the forest floor

offering berries
to the birds, the squirrels.

It’s a relic
of the days when dogwoods

flourished–creamy lace in April,

spilled milk in May–

their beauty delicate
but commonplace.

When I took for granted
that the world would remain

as it was, and I
would remain with it.

Jens Lekman: “The Cold Swedish Winter”

Source: Spotify

savagedefectives:

franz wright and his dad, james wright, are the only parent/child duo to have both won the pulitzer prize in the same category

quotes from his wikipedia page, criticism section: “[his poems are] like tiny jewels shaped by blunt, ruined fingers–miraculous gifts.” “crude, unprocessed sewage of suffering” “compression of both pain and joy” “like walking through a plate-glass window on purpose”