[Lying in bed I think about you] Lying in bed I think about you, your ugly empty airless apartment and your eyes. It’s noon, and tired I look into the rest of the awake day incapable of even awe, just a presence of particle and wave, just that closed and deliberate human observance. Your thin… Continue reading Joshua Beckman
He passed his fingertips over her skin almost without touching her, and experienced for the first time the miracle of feeling himself in another body. — Gabriel García Márquez, Of Love and Other Demons. (Random House Value Publishing May 11, 1999) Originally published 1994.
The heart … this fist which goes on shaking itself at fate. — Margaret Atwood, from “Heart Test with an Echo Chamber,” Interlunar. (Oxford University Press; First Edition edition 1984)
Even trees understand me! Good heavens, I lie under them, too, don’t I? I’m just like a pile of leaves. — Frank O’Hara, from “Meditations in an Emergency,” Meditations in an Emergency. (Grove Press; Reissue edition April 1, 1996) Originally published 1957.
The blue river is grey at morning and evening. There is twilight at dawn and dusk. I lie in the dark wondering if this quiet in me now is a beginning or an end. — Jack Gilbert, “Waking at Night,” The Dance Most of All: Poems. ( Knopf; First Edition edition April 7, 2009)
And now let us love and take that which is given us, and be happy; for in the grave there is no love and no warmth, nor any touching of the lips. Nothing perchance, or perchance but bitter memories of what might have been. ― H. Rider Haggard, She. (Oxford University Press October 22, 1998)… Continue reading H. Rider Haggard
I should have been a pair of ragged claws Scuttling across the floors of silent seas. — T. S. Eliot, from “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” Prufrock and Other Observations. (Kessinger Publishing, LLC September 10, 2010) Originally published 1917.
It isn’t possible to love and part. You will wish that it was. You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you. I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal. — E.M. Forster, A Room with a View. (Edward Arnold 1908)
Night doesn’t fall, but rather, all the disregarded shadows of a day flock like blackbirds, and suddenly rise. — Stuart Dybek, from “Ravenswood,” Alaska Quarterly Review, Fall & Winter 2012
What does it matter how many lovers you have if none of them gives you the universe? — Jacques Lacan, The Seminar of Jacques Lacan: On Feminine Sexuality, the Limits of Love and Knowledge Vol. Book XX. (W. W. Norton & Company November 17, 1999) Originally published 1975.