spinach heart

(robert lentz via jigme al-uzza woodward on fb)

"I don't like acceptance."

tamiflu shanter

Some poems by the Baroness.

It is a kind of flutter
like the beatring of moths' wings,
a Lethean stream
in which to dip forgetting eyes.

Are there so many terrors
among the things that just aren't so
Golgotha is a valley
where flutter the fragrant gonfalons

The Infinite Nothing.

unsold heavy water

the earth will sweeten this spot
with the years, with the years
forgetting all our spite
the earth will sweeten this spot
the things we did for sport
& what the faith requires
the earth will sweeten this spot

with the years, with the years

Quill.

chola eyebrows

"It struck me how this poetry from the 1950s still maintained a living bond with old high modes of poetic diction, stretching back to Shakespeare, & Chaucer, & beyond to Dante, & the ancient poets. It's high-toned, scholarly, informed, intelligent. This matter of tone or diction provides the poet with a way to explore cultural, historical & religious phenomena on a sort of "intimate" basis. The everyday demotic speech of the present confronts a chasm of incomprehension : the tools of articulation are no longer there."

dord of the lance

(via via @creepypasta)

Good k-punk overview.

"Sonorous dirgings and melodious storm" --Horne

Alyth's Rising.

"Having escaped
the gray parrots"

--Celan

"This is an attempt of some people to invent themselves through playing. This is Jetztzeit rock"

the crack in larsen c

"An apocalypse is the opposite of a dream. A dream is falser than the outer life. But the end of the world is more actual than the world it ends." --Chesterton, op cit

(pic by michael puttonen on fb)

demonstratively cumbersome henna

"...they could see the whole of London shaping itself vaguely and largely in the grey and growing light, until the white sun stood over it and it lay at their feet, the splendid monstrosity that it is. Its bewildering squares and parallelograms were compact and perfect as a Chinese puzzle; an enormous hieroglyphic which man must decipher or die." --G K Chesterton, The Ball and the Cross (1909)