firstfullmoon

[firstfullmoon]

“What makes a poem a poem, finally, is that it is unparaphrasable. There is no other way to say exactly this; it exists only in its own body of language, only in these words. I may try to explain it or represent it in other terms, but then some element of its life will always be missing. It’s the same with painting. All I can say of still life must finally fall short; I may inventory, weigh, suggest, but I cannot circumscribe; some element of mystery will always be left out. What is missing is, precisely, its poetry.”

— Mark Doty, from Still Life With Oysters and Lemon

#there is no other way to say exactly this; it exists only in its own body of language only in these words #w #lit #mark doty #maybe all pain in the world requires poetry

[firstfullmoon]

“From the River to the Sea.” A Poem by Samer Abu Hawwash, translated by Huda Fakhreddine

every street, every house, every room, every window, every balcony, every wall, every stone, every sorrow, every word, every letter, every whisper, every touch, every glance, every kiss, every tree, every spear of grass, every tear, every scream, every air, every hope, every supplication, every secret, every well, every prayer, every song, every ballad, every book, every paper, every color, every ray, every cloud, every rain, every drop of rain, every drip of sweat, every lisp, every stutter, every yamma, mother, every yaba, father, every shadow, every light, every little hand that drew in a little notebook a tree or house or heart or a family of a father, a mother, siblings, and pets, every longing, every possibility, every letter between two lovers that arrived or didn’t arrive, every gasp of love dispersed in the distant clouds, every moment of despair at every turn, every suitcase on top of

every closet, every library, every shelf, every minaret, every rug, every bell toll in every church, every rosary, every holy praise, every arrival, every goodbye, every Good Morning, every Thank God, every ‘ala rasi, my pleasure, every hill ‘an sama’i, leave me alone, every rock, every wave, every grain of sand, every hair-do, every mirror, every glance in every mirror, every cat, every meow, every happy donkey, every sad donkey’s gaze, every pot, every vapor rising from every pot, every scent, every bowl, every school queue, every school shoes, every ring of the bell, every blackboard, every piece of chalk, every school costume, every mabruk ma ijakum, congratulations on the baby, every y ‘awid bi-salamtak, condolences, every ‘ayn al- ḥasud tibla bil-‘ama, may the envious be blinded, every photograph, every person in every photograph, every niyyalak, how lucky, every ishta’nalak, we’ve missed you, every grain of wheat in every bird’s gullet, every lock of hair, every hair knot, every hand, every foot, every football, every finger, every nail, every bicycle, every rider on every bicycle, every turn of air fanning from every bicycle, every bad joke, every mean joke, every laugh, every smile, every curse, every yearning, every fight, every sitti, grandma, every

sidi, grandpa, every meadow, every flower, every tree, every grove, every olive, every orange, every plastic rose covered with dust on an abandoned counter, every portrait of a martyr hanging on a wall since forever, every gravestone, every sura, every verse, every hymn, every ḥajj mabrur wa sa ‘yy mashkur, may your ḥajj and effort be rewarded, every yalla tnam yalla tnam, every lullaby, every red teddy bear on every Valentine’s, every clothesline, every hot skirt, every joyful dress, every torn trousers, every days-spun sweater, every button, every nail, every song, every ballad, every mirror, every peg, every bench, every shelf, every dream, every illusion, every hope, every disappointment, every hand holding another hand, every hand alone, every scattered thought, every beautiful thought, every terrifying thought, every whisper, every touch, every street, every house, every room, every balcony, every eye, every tear, every word, every letter, every name, every voice, every name, every house, every name, every face, every name, every cloud, every name, every rose, every name, every spear of grass, every name, every wave, every grain of sand, every street, every kiss, every image, every eye, every tear, every yamma, every yaba, every name, every name, every name, every name, every name, every name, every name, every name, all…

#w #poetry #from the river to the sea

[firstfullmoon]

May Sarton, The Journals of May Sarton, vol. I

#okay #w #journals #may sarton

[firstfullmoon]

happy i wanted you warm and close as fresh laundry and here we are tuesday

#btw if you even care etc

[firstfullmoon]

Marina Tsvetaeva, excerpt from Poem of the End, Selected Poems (trans. Elaine Feinstein, with Angela Livingstone) [ID'd]

#w #poetry #marina tsvetaeva

[firstfullmoon]

NEW OCEAN VUONG NOVEL!!!!!!!!!

YES!!!!!! he said this one took something from him he doesn’t think he’ll ever get back so. wow

[firstfullmoon]

ocean vuong finished writing his 2nd novel lets fucking go!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[firstfullmoon]

I had this feeling suddenly. I get this feeling a lot, but I don’t know if there’s one word for it. It’s not nervous or sad or even lonely. It’s all of that, and then a bit more. The feeling is I don’t belong here. I don’t know how I got here, and I don’t know how long I can stay before everyone else realizes that I am an impostor. I am a fraud. I’ve gotten this feeling nearly everywhere I have ever been in my life. There’s nothing you can do about it except drink some water and hope that it subsides. Or you can leave.

I’m lonely. What kind of loneliness? Every kind. I feel disconnected. Abandoned. As always. Repetition. So what, my love? So what? At first, I just wanted to run away. Now I have no where else to run to, nothing to run from. I don’t belong anywhere, I don’t want to go anywhere, I just want to be happy.

(1) Czeslaw Milosz, New and Collected Poems: 1931-2001 (2) Leila Sales, This Song Will Save Your Life (3) Daniela Fischerová, Fingers Pointing Somewhere Else (4) Wisława Szymborska, tr. by Clare Cavanagh and Stanisław Barańczak, from “The Railroad Station”, Map: Collected and Last Poems (5) Daul Kim (6) Sarah Kay, from “The Paradox”, No Matter the Wreckage

#......................... #w #comparatives #czeslaw milosz #wislawa szymborska #sarah kay

[firstfullmoon]

i do, often, think of that quote from wislawa szymborska talking about love and the inexplicability of some of it. "great love is never justified" etc. and it truly isn't. and thank god for that.

#oh man. like the little tree that springs up in some inexplicable fashion but it does exist and it really is green!! #w #lit #wislawa szymborska

[firstfullmoon]

akka, palestine (2021)

#ph #from the river to the sea

[firstfullmoon]

“My world was warm with April sun my thoughts were spangled green and gold; my soul filled up with joy, yet felt the sharp, sweet pain that only joy can hold.”

— fr. “I Thought That I Could Not Be Hurt”, Sylvia Plath

#w #poetry #sylvia plath

[firstfullmoon]

making the most benign moments the signposts by which i'll live my life. keep going till i see a toddler running through the supermarket. keep going until i catch dew on the grass. keep going until the cherry blossoms start heaping all over the cars parked by the verge. keep going until i see a robin by the train tracks. keep going until i get a warm apple crumble. keep going till i get to admire the cashier's eye makeup. keep going till the bus driver says "thanks, lovey". keep going till i hear rain in the morning. keep going till i peel a perfect boiled egg. keep going till i press a warm mug of tea to my cheek........keep going until until until until until until

#love love love u mim #<- same this is the mim loving website

[firstfullmoon]

still, a. r. ammons

#though I have looked everywhere I can find nothing lowly in the universe #w #poetry #a. r. ammons #you must praise the mutilated world

[firstfullmoon]

Eid Mubarak, I love you all, may we witness a free Palestine within our lifetimes inshallah

[firstfullmoon]

Mary Oliver, from a poem titled "In Pobbity, Georgia," featured in White Pine: Poems & Prose Poems

#w #poetry #mary oliver

[firstfullmoon]

is 'the world has cracked you open; love has unbound your limbs' from a piece of literature somewhere or are you just that beautiful-minded... <3

“love has unbound my limbs” is a sappho line ! I am unable to form a single thought untainted by poetry (derogatory)

[firstfullmoon]

Danusha Laméris, Bonfire Opera: Poems; “Passion Fish”

#w #poetry #danusha laméris #meanwhile the world goes on