— Michelle Alexander, The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness (via humanformat)
(Source: carnivorousdreams, via knitmeapony)
— Michelle Alexander, The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness (via humanformat)
(Source: carnivorousdreams, via knitmeapony)
She is all neck and bones flanking her velvet.
I take the gargoyle pill and hang over the church of her.
What a joke,
these useless marble wings, this casket shell.
I am a thousand pounds, threatening
to fashion her into rose petal pulp
if I spiral down. Stone trumps bone. My gravity
is poison to us both.
This is a sentence that can never end.
Every night while I repose and collapse
into a simian droll stupor, she picks out my liver,
blood and bile glossing her beak like lipstick instinct.
It is pain that fills me with honey and aria orgasm.
Now when I am awake, I comprehend the thrill of needles.
How the right level of sting and swell
can make you grab the bedsheets with both claws.
It is blameless.
It is a language that I have shattered the Rosetta Stone to.
I am learning it by context and error.
I speak it like an infant.
I could just end her, I think; I could just land on her stupid thorns.
It is easier to swallow that capsule,
to be still, mute, and hard.
Forgettables says: This is a poem by one of my favorite people in life and it’s been a somewhat long life, so that’s saying a lot I think.
(Source: laurenzuni, via bostonpoetryslam)
In the valley where the hands dwell, there is no inch of flesh that is untouched. Each thigh has been marked with the bursting bloom of a bruise; with a pressed thumb, with the warmth of want. There is no needing, there is no desire left when a woman with octopus limbs makes a meal of your stark. Your mountain all mapped, no longer calls for a climber. And this is when you will begin to finally seek the sun, to move out of shadow of sheets and worn satin bodies of water. You are more now than breasts that need undressing or a moon that has yet to be walked upon.
Visual artist Adrián Villar Rojas - Wood, rocks and clay. Bienal del fin del mundo. Second Edition. Ushuaia.
(via mocasia)
Weapon of Mass Instruction
Built from a welded frame atop a 1979 Ford Falcon, Raul Lemesoff drives around the streets of Buenos Aires distributing free books to anybody who wants to be assaulted with some serious learnin’.
(via: make / laughingsquid)
(via codaking)
Stillness in Motion is a sculpture by Olga Ziemska. The piece is made entirely from cut willow branches that have been cut and stacked to create a human figure.
(via mocasia)
sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn
anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive
is too small for you.
(Source: loveyourcrookedneighbor, via caitsmeissner)
“Not exactly nostalgia, more a thread map, something to hold like a past” - from Karen Garrabrant’s 10 of 30 poem 5 Pointed Star
#7 NaPoWriMo postcard poem art
Hand sewn thread into paper
Karen’s Facebook Page is here: http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=665369286