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#djuna barnes
booksandothersecrets · 8 months
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Haunted (hunted?)
Sad, Beautiful, Tragic - Taylor Swift // Nightwood - Djuna Barnes // Wuthering Heights - Emily Brontë // Work Song - Hozier // Ghosts (Demo) - Florence and the Machine
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cor-ardens-archive · 2 years
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Nightwood, Djuna Barnes
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quotespile · 2 years
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None of us suffers as much as we should, or loves as much as we say. Love is the first lie; wisdom the last.
Djuna Barnes, Nightwood
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loneberry · 11 months
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I have a poem that was recently published in The New York Times Magazine here.
Since it’s paywalled, I’m pasting Anne Boyer’s beautiful introduction below.
Jackie Wang’s poem draws its title, in part, from Djuna Barnes’s 1936 novel of queer love, “Nightwood”: “ladies of the haute sewer taking their last stroll, sauntering on their last Rotten Row.” The poem’s rhythm echoes the rhythm of the life the poem describes. Some readers will already know this life. For them — for us — the poem is a recognition, one I don’t often see in contemporary poetry. Poets, however, were once experts on the ecstasy of the gutter. As Francois Villon or Charles Baudelaire did before her, Wang writes poetry that reminds us that life is more than the grim fatalism of to-do lists and bank accounts. The poem rushes forward, headed toward the edge. Then the lover-thieves get caught. The bill comes due. The poem slows. The heart breaks. This was, after all, an elegy. Despite the living thrill of its cadence, “those days,” those lovers, are gone now. What’s left is poetry. Selected by Anne Boyer
Ladies of the Sarasota Sewer
By Jackie Wang
in those days
we ate garbage for every meal
i dove in the dumpsters with
the atlanta boys
got chubby on a bucket
of expired breakfast bars
fine dining was stealing
continental breakfast
at all the nearby hotels
filching lukewarm dannon
yogurts and bananas
from the mediocre spread
only once we were caught
they gave us a bill
we had no money
i said i would go home
to try to get some money
and when i left
they let you go without paying
thinking i had left you in the lurch
all the love i see is gone
we lived on fumes
the adrenalin of our
breaking bones
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tygerland · 11 months
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Djuna Barnes, 1926, by Berenice Abbott.
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quotessentially · 4 months
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From Djuna Barnes’s Nightwood
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litsnaps · 8 months
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philosophybitmaps · 3 months
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stavroginas · 9 months
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— Djuna Barnes, Nightwood
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innervoiceartblog · 5 months
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“I have been loved,' she said, 'by something strange, and it has forgotten me.”
― Djuna Barnes, Nightwood
Art by Catrin Welz-Stein
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Book names + authors under the cut
Nora Flood/Robin Vote- Nightwood by Djuna Barnes
Tanner Scott/Sebastian Brother- Autoboyography by Christina Lauren
Mateo Torres/Rufus Emeterio- They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera
Sam Haversford(Sam of Wilds)/Knight Commander Ryan Foxheart- The Lightning Struck Heart by Tj Klune
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davidhudson · 2 years
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Djuna Barnes, June 12, 1892 – June 18, 1982.
With Solita Solano. 1925 photo by Maurice-Louis Branger.
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jimin-updates · 7 months
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A poem for Jimin:
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❤️
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violettesiren · 2 months
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Here where the trees tremble with your flight I sit and braid thin whips to beat you down. How shall we ever find you who have gone In little dresses, lisping through the town?
Great men on horses hunt you, and strong boys Employ their arrows in the shallow air. But I shall be heard whistling where I follow Braiding long wisps of grass and stallion’s hair.
And in the night when thirty hawks are high In pendent rhythm, and all the wayside loud; When they are burning field and bush and hedge, I’ll steal you like a penny from the crowd.
She Passed This Way by Djuna Barnes
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camillerowep · 10 months
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On this day in 2018, Camille shared photos with the caption “♥️🇫🇷♥️”
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knifeeater · 1 year
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Love becomes the deposit of the heart, analogous in all degrees to the 'findings' in a tomb. As in one will be charted the taken place of the body, the raiment, the utensils necessary to its other life, so in the heart of the lover will be traced, as an indelible shadow, that which he loves. In Nora’s heart lay the fossil of Robin, intaglio of her identity, and about it for its maintenance ran Nora’s blood. Thus the body of Robin could never be unloved, corrupt or put away. Robin was now beyond timely changes, except in the blood that animated her.
Duna Barnes - Nightwood
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