huong1952

[huong1952]

would you still love me if i was a worm? 🐛💛

(free pattern here!)

#xensilverquill #arts and crafts #little worm #crochet #would you still love me #yessss

[huong1952]

Smell of Memories | Galya Popova

#galya popova #trailofleaves #flowers #red #roses #hands #memories

[huong1952]

“Wait, for now.

Distrust everything if you have to. But trust the hours. Haven’t they carried you everywhere, up to now?

Personal events will become interesting again. Hair will become interesting. Pain will become interesting.

Buds that open out of season will become interesting.

Second-hand gloves will become lovely again; their memories are what give them the need for other hands. The desolation of lovers is the same: that enormous emptiness carved out of such tiny beings as we are asks to be filled; the need for the new love is faithfulness to the old.

Wait . Don’t go too early. You’re tired. But everyone’s tired.

But no one is tired enough.

Only wait a little and listen:

music of hair, music of pain, music of looms weaving our loves again.

Be there to hear it, it will be the only time, most of all to hear your whole existence, rehearsed by the sorrows, play itself into total exhaustion.”

Copyright © 1980 by Galway Kinnell. From Mortal Acts, Mortal Words (Mariner Books, 1980). Used with permission of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.

[Thanks Leila L'Abate]

#galway kinnell #dreaminginthedeepsouth #words and writing #love #life

[huong1952]

...If somebody

had loved me sometimes,

or even one time,

for my sadness–

unexplained, unfounded

as a cuckoo’s

he had loved my real self,

he had really loved me.

~•Blaga Dimitrova•~

#Blaga Dimitrova beautiful Bulgarian poetess #Kodomo no shiki (Shimizu Hiroshi, 1939)

#yaya-tchoum #blaga dimitrova #love #self #sadness #my comfort zone

[huong1952]

melancholic views

#more than ideas #window thoughts #melancholic #so many fragile things #just like me

[huong1952]

17. So I guess it’s time to let go of my tears, to let you go on into the night, quietly, quietly, as you let the world go, voice cut from you by the surgeon’s knife, only your hands to say goodbye, touching the leaves of the lemon tree one last time, or Britta’s pale, shivering arm, or trying to hold forever in your eyes this olive-tree twisted in the valley winds, or this flash of sunlight off the high Sierra snows.

Burton Hatlen, from Crossing Altamont

#burton hatlen #crossing altamont #contremineur #letting go #good bye #farewell #death

[huong1952]

Mariko Kusumoto, Necklace

see here

#mariko kusumoto #contremineur #necklace #glass #blue #beautiful

[huong1952]

Kees Scherer, Paris, 1950s

* * * *

‘And we offer each other words of consolation or distraction or encouragement when we see that one or the other of us is in need of such words.’

Javier Marías, A Heart So White, 1992

[h/t Ina de Bree]

#ina de bree #kees scherer #dreaminginthedeepsouth #paris #life #kindness #words

[huong1952]

this evening the sky is the color of peaches in the orchard, and the heart feels as if it has fallen among the soft bruises, forgotten by the wind.

— greg sellers

#greg sellers #deepseaidyll #heart #longing #loss #peaches #bruises #the sky is the color of peaches #orchard #melancholy #regrets

[huong1952]

Bernd Webler

#art

#Bernd Webler #fe-le-ci-as-things #bird #flying away #landscape #melancholy

[huong1952]

huong1952: Heart's measure

The day I let love in

A blue bird sang

A blue moon song

Now or never I pledged

Love in exchange

For grief

The day I let love go

The blue bird was dead

The blue moon faded

I knew

I made a promise

Love for grief

The blue bird is now asleep

Under the faded moonlight

My heart's measure

A ray of light

A long dark night

#huong1952 #heart's measure #love #loss #heart #blue moon #blue bird #grief #night

[huong1952]

Lucy Campbell

#lucy campbell #art #hands #butterflies #birds #fireflies #box #messages #love

[huong1952]

Photo:: T.S.Eliot

* * * *

Home is where one starts from. As we grow older The world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated Of dead and living. Not the intense moment Isolated, with no before and after, But a lifetime burning in every moment And not the lifetime of one man only But of old stones that cannot be deciphered. There is a time for the evening under starlight, A time for the evening under lamplight (The evening with the photograph album). Love is most nearly itself When here and now cease to matter. Old men ought to be explorers Here or there does not matter We must be still and still moving Into another intensity For a further union, a deeper communion Through the dark cold and the empty desolation, The wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters Of the petrel and the porpoise. In my end is my beginning. T S Eliot

(Center of Applied Jungian Studies)

#t.s.eliot #home #dreaminginthedeepsouth #life #lifetime #time #love is most nearly itself when here and now cease to matter #ending #beginning

[huong1952]

Tanka # 225

All the lonely night suddenly come to light, their bright flame burning in my heart burning with your name.

View On WordPress

#trailofleaves #longing #passion #lonely nights #flame #heart #your name

[huong1952]

Lost Book

The book I thought I had lost returned to me by the grace of a stranger’s hand — or was it the wind who whirled it like a leaf and placed it, gently, by my doorstep, in a place she knew I would find.

View On WordPress

#pierre mhanna #lost book #grace #stranger #wind #leaf #lost and found

[huong1952]

“Absence is not vacancy. Vacancy has no voice. Vacancy is empty and banal and atheistic. Absence, on the other hand, is a fertile ground where loss and love coalesce around memory to create ghosts that live among us. Absence is alive with energy.”

— Nick Cave

#nick cave #cdnsongbirdme #absence #vacancy #love #loss #memories #ghosts

[huong1952]

Marc Bohne

#marc bohne #orchids #vase #soft colors