come closer.
come into this. come closer.
you are quite the beauty. if no one has ever told you that before know that now. you are quite the beauty. there is joy in how your mouth dances with your teeth. your mouth is a sign of how sacred your life truly is. come into this. true of heart come into this. you are true of heart. come closer. come closer. know that whatever God prays to He asked it to help Him make something of worth. He woke from His dreams scraped the soil form the spaces inside Himself made you and was happy. you make the Lord happy.
come into this.
come closer.
know that something softer than us but just as holy planted the pieces of Himself into our feet that we might one day find our way back to Him. you are almost home.
come closer come into this. there are birds beating their wings beneath your breastplate gentle sparrows aching to sing come aching hearts come soldiers of joy doormen of truth come true of heart come into this.
my heart was too big for my body so I let it go and most days this world has thinned me to where I am just another cloud forgetting another flock of swans but believe me when I tell you my soul has squeezed into narrow spaces. place your hand beneath your head when you sleep tonight and you may find it there making beauty as we sleep as we dream as we turn over when I turn over in the ground may the ghosts that I have asked answers of do the turning kneading me into crumbs of light and into this thing love thing called life. come into it!
come you wooden museums
you gentle tigers
negro farces in two broken scenes.
come rusting giants!
I see teacups in your smiles upside down glowing. your hands are like my heart. on some days how it trembles. let us hold them together. I am like you. I too at times am filled with fear. but like a hallway must find the strength to walk through it. walk through this with me. walk through this with me. through this church birthed of blood and muscle where every move our arms take every breath we swallow is worship.
bend with me. there are bones in our throats. if we choke it is only on songs.

- Anis Mojgani


I could listen to this all day long. And To Have and Have Not is officially the best movie of all time! Its been a week of inbetweeness and a sort of suspended sense of now....pushing to finish school assignments and work, fighting a cold that triumphed in the end.
but there is life after a headcold!
And Sufjan Stevens on Friday.

I think I need ink on my hands again to remember how to breath. If only there were time for figure drawing in all this chaos of a fall.


Wistful ones,
A tired hello before I hit the pillow.

MAGIC to be found here.

I miss Heaney this fall, and Rilke. There is no time, when Huizinga's seven thousand sources invade my days. Freedom finished. Quite brilliant, but not an easy read.

My brain is no longer forming words, so goodnight, city. This overworked student is headed for slumber.


All I Ever Needed Help With Was You

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

I've lost my T.S.E. and its making me lonely. Rarely do I misplace books important as he is. As it is Saturday I am again writing, though the moment isn't very inspirational. Overworked would be the word I think, and under-eye dark-worry (can you tell I've been reading Anglosaxon? The kennings just keep coming....and alliteration, too, apparently).
Things I'm in love with:
food. pretty much any kind, because there is very little time, I've discovered, to fit it in between running five blocks to class (hefting a hundred-pound bag in the process), running five blocks back again, seven blocks sideways to honors (which involves demonstrating your smarts, preferably at highly audible tones for the benefit of your presumably deprived classmates), and then shimmying into business attire for evenings of semi-exhaustion as a fairy-tale (according to the oregonian - something I would have to contest. if you saw the amount of work involved you would agree with me) librarian.

Brits. They are quite lovely and well educated. And who else, when speaking of an author, would murmur confidingly to you over a dusty book, "mad as toast!"

Tender Loving Empire - discovered in the same week by myself, walking by it in downtown ptown, and also by a friend online. Oh Portland. Thank you for a having a real live etsy shop.

New Pornographers. I know its old news to all you young indies, and yes Sufjan Stevens has a new album out, but how can anyone tire of listening to this? It gets me through my many many hours of life right now.

It is way too late for me to be typing on here and not reading Montaigne or Huizinga or unknown Anglosaxon poets, so farewell my lovelies until next time.