Renew A Tranquil Conscience Within Me

Louis Baker ‘Birds’

sthandwa sami
(my beloved, isiZulu)

In the early hours of this morning it was far too hot for anyone to sleep.
You told me I was strange and kissed me
sunk your teeth into my soft bottom lip twice. So hard I thought you drew blood.
I keep getting the feeling that if you look at me for long enough
you may see that I have a thousand fears
just like your mother who never really wanted you to leave
meanwhile mina I am catching up on the sleep that we missed
and waiting patiently to feel normal again.
My thoughts about you are frightening but precise.
I can see the house on the hill where we grow our own vegetables out back
and drink warm wine out of jam jars
and sing songs in the kitchen until the sun comes up
wena
you make me feel like myself
again. Myself before I had any solid reasons to be anything else.
Last night you gave me space to dream bigger than the single bed.
You laughed in your sleep and I cried in mine
and this afternoon we might be tired because the sun is fierce today
and so much happened between midnight and now
but Bhabha you are terror and brilliance
so
I am the kind of woman who is already teaching my body to miss yours
without craving.
I am the type of woman who is already teaching my heart to miss yours
without failing
and I am quite sure that you will find this unnecessary
but I am already searching for a place to run to and hide when you say,

Uthando lwami. I’m ready. Are you?

You know that I would gladly drive with you to the other side of the world with only the clothes I am wearing
and the loose change
and empty peanut shells in my purse
kodwa
every time you leave the room I worry
and think that perhaps I have imagined you
and maybe you have imagined me.

sthandwa sami

(my beloved, isiZulu)

Yrsa Daley-Ward, ‘bone.’

now available at amazon.com

(via yrsadaleyward)

(via nayyirahwaheed)

Hozier

—Cherry Wine (live)

Her fight and fury is fiery

Oh but she loves

Like sleep to the freezing

Sweet and right and merciful

I’m all but washed

In the tide of her breathing

(Source: spencer1901)

Mutton birds- While You Sleep

“Your soul is a chosen landscape
Where charming masked and costumed figures go
Playing the lute and dancing and almost
Sad beneath their fantastic disguises.

All sing in a minor key
Of all-conquering love and careless fortune
They do not seem to believe in their happiness
And their song mingles with the moonlight.

The still moonlight, sad and beautiful,
Which gives the birds to dream in the trees
And makes the fountain sprays sob in ecstasy,
The tall, slender fountain sprays among the marble statues.”

—Paul Verlaine (via bow-down-to-bowie)

profp:

“Summer night— even the stars are whispering to each other.” ― Kobayashi Issa
(sunset; photo mine; iphone 4s)

profp:

“Summer night—
even the stars
are whispering to each other.”

― Kobayashi Issa

(sunset; photo mine; iphone 4s)

Finn Beales’ photography of Hypnotic Brass Ensemble in Colombia.

Visit www.madebyfinn.com 

I love you
like dipping bread into salt and eating
Like waking up at night with high fever
and drinking water, with the tap in my mouth
Like unwrapping the heavy box from the postman
with no clue what it is
fluttering, happy, doubtful
I love you
like flying over the sea in a plane for the first time
Like something moves inside me
when it gets dark softly in Istanbul
I love you
Like thanking God that we live.

-Nazim Hikmet

The Swell Season

—I Have Loved You Wrong

(Source: anoceanmusing)