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This is a good sign, having a broken heart. It means we have tried for something.
Elizabeth GilbertIn the 19th Century having a photograph taken was a lengthy process. Frustrated by the difficulties of getting children to sit still long enough to snap a proper photo , photographers in the 1800’s conceived of a technique called “The Hidden Mother”. Draping a sheet over the mothers head in an attempt to camouflage her as a part of the furniture to better emphasize the child, the mother was then able to hold her infant and keep them still long enough for the camera to get an exposure. Vintage photographs already have a eerie feel to them, but these images of moms as cloaked phantoms take the creep factor to the next level.
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Posts
If I were to compare you
To a flower, dear,
A lily wouldn’t do.I see more daffodil
More spring & yellow
& bright & smile
So sweet to light my days
and laugh my nights.You remind me
— near constant —
No matter what I’ve seen,
People caring & giving
& pure & true
Exist.Even if (they)…
- christmas cake
your skin, as priceless
as her leather birkin
baked to be swaddled
in winter pristine
yet divinely warm
and quaintly fringed
and freckled
with snow angels.
your heart, as sweet
as confectioners sugar
fine white blizzard over
a slice on plate
endearingly minute
yet as necessary
as a parachute
for those who fall for you. The tulips are too excitable, it is winter here. Look how white everything is, how quiet, how snowed-in I am learning peacefulness, lying by myself quietly As the light lies on these white walls, this bed, these hands. I am nobody; I have nothing to do with explosions. I have given my name and my...
I love the way his arms feel
when they’re wrapped around me
protecting me
soothing me
providing solace
when the rest of the world
is less than kind to me
he writes to me
love letters songs and poems
and every word
and every note
is a labor of love
his heart is big
Though you can see for miles
across the lake to the mountain,
and though you can imagine
all that lies beyond, ridge
after ridge and the rivers
joining to make their slow,
swollen progress to the sea;
though you think you can say
how far the sunlight travels
to wash the ears of ivy
and make the hawkweed blaze,
to warm the stone’s cold shoulder
and warm the wary heart;
though you think as you swim
how you used to swim with her,
how you’d lie on your backs
and press your feet together
and race each other back to shore;
though you’ve reached, you think,
some idea of distances involved,
how things are so far apart
yet one and the same—
it will be, you will find,
as nothing to the distance
opened by the loon’s cry
that first night; and in the wake
of that cry, the silence.
Mark Roper
- Fragile Bird
I am sitting in the sun
That falls languidly
Though my window
And
Over my shoulders
It moves with time
I move with its warmth
My Life now
Is just trying
To keep
Entwined
Within
The radiance
And the beautiful
Moments
The ones that
Warm the
Dull
Pain and indifference
I smile deeply
With my tangled hair
And ink stained fingers
I have lived though
This….by April Mansilla
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)His eyes mesmerized me as i
Looked upon them
I’ve never seen such starry eyes
They also match his complexionHis lips are soft
And the words he says
Makes me feel drowned
In a pool full of him
His cheeks blossom pink
as soft as a rose bud
I place my lips on them
and I feel my heart…A path winding across the horizon
over mountains, across seas
through blue skies and gray
never ceasing, continuous.
My love for you.A.J. MillerSometimes I know,
And sometimes I don’t.
Sometimes I can,
And sometimes I won’t.
Oftentimes I’m sweet,
And sometimes I’m mean,
Oftentimes I’m dirty,
And sometimes I’m clean.
Sometimes I’m fixed.
Other times I’m broken.
Sometimes I’m meek.
Other times I’m outspoken.
Most times I’m…- Look me in the eye
Look at the sun,
and open your eyes.
You’re fine with the burn,
You’re fine with your lies.
Turn to me,
look at my face.
Can’t stand the sting,
Can’t stand the disgrace.
Now the mirror,
Stare at yourself.
It’s all getting clearer,
You’re fine with your life.
One more chance,
Look at my eyes,
Does it burn?
Just like your lies? Here we sit as evening falls
Like old horses in their stalls.
Thank you, Father, that you bless
Us with food and an address
And the comfort of your hand
In this great and blessed land.
Look around at each dear face,
Keep each one in your good grace.
We think of those who went before,
And wish we could have loved them more.
Grant to us a cheerful heart,
Knowing we must soon depart
To that far land to be with them.
And now let’s eat. Praise God. Amen.Table Grace by Gary Johnson
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