April 14, 2014
tierradentro:

“Garret Room”, 1962, Andrew Wyeth.

tierradentro:

Garret Room”, 1962, Andrew Wyeth.

(via tierradentro)

April 13, 2014
April 9, 1956
Sylvia,
On Friday I shall be home about 8 – expect you then. On the principle that to every sentence of prose there should be six of verse –
Ridiculous to call it love.
Even so, fearfully I did sound
Your absence, as one shot down feels to the wound,
Knowing himself alive
Only by what most frightens, the suddenly
Anxious and kneeling sky, clouds, trees,
The headlong instant that halts, stares, comes close
With an incredulous ghastly eye.
That man struck looks up:
A bird, gathering the world in its throat – one note
About to be heard –, stands, beak agape:
What ghostly hands his hearing strains to it!
One cry – then death, all into darkness.
Hands here were as inadequate, –
Wherever you haunt earth, you are shaped and bright
As the true ghost of my loss.
Boddy was my guest here until the other day – finally pawned his taperecorder to me – for ten pounds – and left. Can you smuggle brandy?
Ted

April 9, 1956

Sylvia,

On Friday I shall be home about 8 – expect you then. On the principle that to every sentence of prose there should be six of verse –

Ridiculous to call it love.

Even so, fearfully I did sound

Your absence, as one shot down feels to the wound,

Knowing himself alive

Only by what most frightens, the suddenly

Anxious and kneeling sky, clouds, trees,

The headlong instant that halts, stares, comes close

With an incredulous ghastly eye.

That man struck looks up:

A bird, gathering the world in its throat – one note

About to be heard –, stands, beak agape:

What ghostly hands his hearing strains to it!

One cry – then death, all into darkness.

Hands here were as inadequate, –

Wherever you haunt earth, you are shaped and bright

As the true ghost of my loss.

Boddy was my guest here until the other day – finally pawned his taperecorder to me – for ten pounds – and left. Can you smuggle brandy?

Ted

April 12, 2014
lawrenceleemagnuson:

Dorf bei Nacht  - Village at Night    Edmund Kesting, Germany 1892-1970

lawrenceleemagnuson:

Dorf bei Nacht  - Village at Night    Edmund Kesting, Germany 1892-1970

April 12, 2014
secretcinema1:

Jim Jarmusch & Tom Waits, New York, 1985, Deborah Feingold 

secretcinema1:

Jim Jarmusch & Tom WaitsNew York, 1985, Deborah Feingold 

April 12, 2014
thusreluctant:

Florence Fountain, Boboli Gardens by John Singer Sargent

thusreluctant:

Florence Fountain, Boboli Gardens by John Singer Sargent

(Source: wikipaintings.org, via mundigkeit)

April 12, 2014

(Source: greeneyes55)

April 9, 2014
"You say your husband is just no good to you.
His Jew-Mama guards his sweet sex like a pearl.
You have one baby, I have two.
I should sit on a rock off Cornwall and comb my hair.
I should wear tiger pants, I should have an affair.
We should meet in another life, we should meet in air,
Me and you."

— Sylvia Plath, from ”Lesbos”

1:23am
Filed under: sylvia plath 
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