The Latest

Jul 1, 2014 / 403 notes

(via houseofsighs)

monsterman:

Arik Roper
Jun 29, 2014 / 946 notes

monsterman:

Arik Roper

(via heathenwoods)

realityayslum:

Hand grasping a beautiful young woman’s long, dark hair. c1910
(thnx to chagalov for the link)
Jun 29, 2014 / 12,428 notes

realityayslum:

Hand grasping a beautiful young woman’s long, dark hair. c1910

(thnx to chagalov for the link)

(via sycamore)

williamcrisafi:

Meeting above the fog dipped pines Bill Crisafi (please do not remove credit) Billcrisafi.bigcartel.com
Jun 29, 2014 / 1,033 notes

williamcrisafi:

Meeting above the fog dipped pines
Bill Crisafi (please do not remove credit)
Billcrisafi.bigcartel.com

(via blackpoisonousrivers)

Jun 24, 2014 / 57,882 notes

wild-guy:

Achrioptera fallax (x)

It’s a wee dragon!

(via blessedwildapplegirl)

rosebiar:

(via Fiona and Twig: Carol Hicks Bolton-THE BIG REVEAL!)
http://fionaandtwig.blogspot.com
Jun 24, 2014 / 10 notes
I live in my own little world. But its ok, they know me here.
Lauren Myracle  (via doreishounen)

(via windfaenger)

Jun 24, 2014 / 3,077 notes
Write because you want to communicate with yourself. Write because you want to communicate with someone else. Write because life is weird and tragic and amazing. Write because talking is difficult. Write because it polishes the heart. Write because you can. Write because you can’t. Write because there is a blackbird outside of my window right now and oh my god isn’t that the best start to the day? Write because you’re trying to figure yourself out. Write because you might not ever figure yourself out. Write because there still aren’t enough love poems in the world.
Dalton Day, interviewed for Banango Street (via bostonpoetryslam)

(via fuckyeahexistentialism)

Jun 24, 2014 / 3,251 notes

One day, whether you
are 14,
28 
or 65

you will stumble upon
someone who will start
a fire in you that cannot die.

However, the saddest,
most awful truth
you will ever come to find––

is they are not always
with whom we spend our lives.

Beau Taplin, "The Awful Truth" {Hunting Season – 28 copies left}  (via sne)

(via which-witch)

Jun 24, 2014 / 532,926 notes
dreams-in-my-sky:

Gabriel Pacheco
Jun 24, 2014 / 148 notes

dreams-in-my-sky:

Gabriel Pacheco

(via houseofsighs)

Jun 24, 2014 / 727 notes

(via rosebiar)

cauldronandcross:

PHOTOGRAPH BY BRYANT ANDERSON
Jun 24, 2014 / 472 notes

cauldronandcross:

PHOTOGRAPH BY BRYANT ANDERSON

I wanted to see where beauty comes from
without you in the world, hauling my heart
across sixty acres of northeast meadow,
my pockets filling with flowers.
Then I remembered,
it’s you I miss in the brightness
and body of every living name:
rattlebox, yarrow, wild vetch.
You are the green wonder of June,
root and quasar, the thirst for salt.
When I finally understand that people fail
at love, what is left but cinquefoil, thistle,
the paper wings of the dragonfly
aeroplaning the soul with a sudden blue hilarity?
If I get the story right, desire is continuous,
equatorial. There is still so much
I want to know: what you believe
can never be removed from us,
what you dreamed on Walnut Street
in the unanswerable dark of your childhood,
learning pleasure on your own.
Tell me our story: are we impetuous,
are we kind to each other, do we surrender
to what the mind cannot think past?
Where is the evidence I will learn
to be good at loving?
The black dog orbits the horseshoe pond
for treefrogs in their plangent emergencies.
There are violet hills,
there is the covenant of duskbirds.
The moon comes over the mountain
like a big peach, and I want to tell you
what I couldn’t say the night we rushed
North, how I love the seriousness of your fingers
and the way you go into yourself,
calling my half-name like a secret.
I stand between taproot and treespire.
Here is the compass rose
to help me live through this.
Here are twelve ways of knowing
what blooms even in the blindness
of such longing. Yellow oxeye,
viper’s bugloss with its set of pink arms
pleading do not forget me.
We hunger for eloquence.
We measure the isopleths.
I am visiting my life with reckless plenitude.
The air is fragrant with tiny strawberries.
Fireflies turn on their electric wills:
an effulgence. Let me come back
whole, let me remember how to touch you
before it is too late.
Stacie Cassarino, Summer Solstice
(via grammatolatry)

(via fuckyeahexistentialism)

Jun 24, 2014 / 882 notes
Jun 24, 2014 / 3,279 notes

(via ickynicky)

beautyandcuriosity:

ANCIENT GREEK SERPENT ARMBAND 4th-3rd century BC
Jun 17, 2014 / 3,630 notes

beautyandcuriosity:

ANCIENT GREEK SERPENT ARMBAND 4th-3rd century BC

(via ancient-serpent)