writingloverboy

[writingloverboy]

Dance like a flame and rise like the sun undecided. Beat in gods chest the way your heart beats in you, without question. Do not looks back at the purity of your prayers or at your marks on the parchment. Worship is in doing so only look at your fingers type away. Do not listen back to the voice messages you send, there is a devil in you that voices critique. Let the god in your laugh be left unmarked. Sing and cry because that's all that your throat permits. Love to love to love to love and be lost with it.

[writingloverboy]

Novembern Uprising

[writingloverboy]

Light, my light, the world-filling light, the eye-kissing light, heart-sweetening light! Ah, the light dances, my darling, at the centre of my life; the light strikes, my darling, the chords of my love; the sky opens, the wind runs wild, laughter passes over the earth. The butterflies spread their sails on the sea of light. Lilies and jasmines surge up on the crest of the waves of light. The light is shattered into gold on every cloud, my darling, and it scatters gems in profusion. Mirth spreads from leaf to leaf, my darling, and gladness without measure. The heaven's river has drowned its banks and the flood of joy is abroad.”

― Rabindranath Tagore, Gitanjali

[writingloverboy]

and we stood in the face of the wind. The city berated with joy. In the flickering flame the fear of loss was lost, sorrows of tomorrow forgotten. Flames dance with you at its centre. Love cements itself at the centre of us. Fragile flames forever. Our fragile frames forever. I am a little careless with the dancing lights, I hope my hands burn and you can kiss them. I hope on the moonless night I was your light too

[writingloverboy]

spring or autumn

Spring time with the golden butterflies

[writingloverboy]

As usual, I began to look up to the sky again for solace, trying to find in the stars what I had lost on earth. It's a shame to feel love in a place where there is nothing but emptiness.

-Edwin Silva

[writingloverboy]

Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.

-John Lubbock

[writingloverboy]

My knees swole up I love you Shoulders bled God danced I love you I love you the flowers sang Wounds deep filled with deeper love Eager love never leaving love We wont be ever weeping love Love trust me love

-loverboy

[writingloverboy]

Her eyes ivory Mine brown Hers filled with glee Mine sorrow Hers get you Mine death

-loverboy

[writingloverboy]

“Love hard. Love not like the world loves. Love hard, go hard, let it kill you.”

― C. JoyBell C.

[writingloverboy]

Jean Michel Basquiat's first day of getting a space

[writingloverboy]

James Baldwin writing.

[writingloverboy]

Anne Sexton's desk

-"Saints have no moderation, nor do poets, just exuberance."

[writingloverboy]

Sylvia Plath

[writingloverboy]

Kafka's desk

-"May I kiss you then? On this miserable paper? I might as well open the window and kiss the night air."

[writingloverboy]

Kiki Smith in her space

-“If you stick to your work it will take care of you somehow.”

[writingloverboy]

Hans Hartung's studio

-Everything we feel deeply must be expressed. The first and most important thing is to remain free, free in each line you undertake, in your ideas and in your political action, in your moral conduct. The artist especially must remain free from all outer restraints.