Dragged Fighting From His Tomb
- Jean Rhys

- Jean Rhys



"Thank heaven I never was sent to school,
To be flogged into following the style of a fool.”

—William Blake

"comfort me" - sparklehorse

with rocks in my dress
and smoke in my hair
I walked into a lake
to get some sleep down in there

won’t you come to comfort me?

with minnows in my belly
and deep in my veins
the breath-robbing lightning
was making diamonds of rain

won’t you come to comfort me?

dreamed I was born on a mountain on the moon
Where nothing grows or ever rots
I dreamed that I had me a daughter
who was magnificent as a horse

won’t you come to comfort me?

Saint Michael
Master of Belmonte
(Spanish, Aragon, active ca. 1460-90)

Saint Michael

Master of Belmonte

(Spanish, Aragon, active ca. 1460-90)

Dark stars, dark stars of whom I’m ashamed
and in which I cannot

believe, come out
as you have always come

out, in splendor.

—Joseph Fasano, from “Heraclitean”

We all have names we don’t know about.
Martin Amis (via thesemightysecrets)
"The Old Dragon" - William Blake

"The Old Dragon" - William Blake

Summer – Georg Trakl

At evening the complaint of the cuckoo
Grows still in the wood.
The grain bends its head deeper,
The red poppy.

Darkening thunder drives
Over the hill.
The old song of the cricket
Dies in the field.

The leaves of the chestnut tree
Stir no more.
Your clothes rustle
On the winding stair.

The candle gleams silently
In the dark room;
A silver hand
Puts the light out;

Windless, starless night.

"For me poetry comes from here." (He points to his sternum.) "If not, it doesn’t mean anything—it don’t mean nada. You can’t sneak the miracle. There is no way that you’re going to write a better poem just because you want to be remembered for it."

—Gregory Corso