when trista mateer said 'I still wake up with things to tell you.' and when richard siken said ‘what more do you want? I make you pancakes, I take you hunting, I talk to you as if you’re really there.' and when joan didion said 'I remember thinking that I needed to discuss this with John.' [the nature of his death] and 'I am dropping my keys on the table inside the the door before I fully remember. There is no one to hear this news..There is no one to agree, disagree, talk back.' and when C.S. Lewis said 'i think i am beginning to understand why grief feels like suspense. It comes from the frustration of so many impulses that had become habitual. Thought after thought, feeling after feeling, action after action, had [them] for their object. Now their target is gone.' and when fleabag said 'i don't know what to do with it, with all the love i have for her, i don't know where to put it now' and then Jamie Anderson tied it all up by saying 'Grief is just love with no place to go.' i think i need a moment.
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dean "sorry about the blood in your mouth, i wish it was mine" winchester and castiel "i couldn’t get the boy to kill me, but i wore his jacket for the longest time"
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the vocabulary of loss is the dictionary
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richard siken, in pithead chapel
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Richard Siken continues to kill it on twitter. He just explained why his poetry is so popular in tumblr graphics - "you can take any of my quotes and apply them to any fandom or picture and they will work because they are sad and mopey and full of longing" and then proceeded to demonstrate this. With cat pictures. With lines of his poetry slightly altered to be lol cat speak.
(from his twitter thread here)
People are doing their own versions in response and he is complimenting them.
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right person, wrong time (variations on heartbreak)
@leemartenspoetry on tumblr
vita sackville-west & fegan’s 1924 café in dublin
everything everywhere all at once (2022)
@heavensghost on tumblr
i had to get out by indigo de souza
‘calling a wolf a wolf' by kaveh akbar
river by joni mitchell
‘english song’ in a little larger than the entire universe: selected poems by fernando pessoa
slumber by ron hicks
fish in exile by vi khi nao
penitent magdalene by antonio ciseri
@ojibwa on tumblr
this is what the drugs are for by gracie abrams & the awakening by angelo morbelli
as good as it gets by fizz
lonely this christmas by mud & picture of the christmas tree at trinity college dublin, taken by me in december of 2022
this is what the drugs are for by gracie abrams & picture by andrew collins via globalnews.ca
@inanotherunivrs on tumblr & a polaroid of me taken by my ex-boyfriend
‘in a dream you saw a way to survive’ by clementine von radics & a picture of my ex-boyfriend's window, taken by me
bluets by maggie nelson & the poolbeg generating station, dublin
‘unrequited’ by sasha m george & inheritance by matthew w. cornell
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@ faraway on instagram & lavender sprigs farm cut by linda jacobus
the museum of heartbreak by meg leder
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‘seaside improvisation’ by richard siken
@ dracarysgang on twitter
@-love-letters-i-never-sent
@fromdarzaitoleeza on tumblr
explosions by ellie goulding
‘i had a dream about you’ by richard siken
the beatrice letters by lemony snicket
la la land (2016)
‘catalog of unabashed gratitude’ by ross gay
@stuckinapril on tumblr
@deathlywounded on tumblr
some are always hungry by jihyun yun
‘speaking practice’ by franny choi
a self-portrait in letters by anna sexton & a picture of my ex-boyfriend in a lake in Orfű, Hungary
@sunsbleeding on tumblr
‘there is no absolution for the fallen, only the dying’ by p.d
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I'll Eat You Up, I Love You So
A Primer For the Small Weird Loves, Richard Siken | The Embrace II, Ron Hicks | Henry and June: From “A Journal of Love,” The Unexpurgated Diary (1931-1932) of Anaïs Nin, Henry Miller (@theoptia) | the night belongs to lovers, Ilaria Ratti | Dark. Sweet.: New & Selected Poems, Linda Hogan (@feral-ballad) | Intimacy, Angelica Alzona | Shame is an Ocean I Swim Across, Mary Lambert (@synbeam) | The Kiss, Edvard Munch | Summer Morn in New Hampshire, Claude McKay
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richard siken’s new poem in the new yorker—at the link, you can hear him read it in full
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