Umbo (Otto Umbehr), At the Beach, 1930.
Reblogged from i'm too much with myself, i wanna be someone else..
January 28, 2012, 8:54pm
Umbo (Otto Umbehr), At the Beach, 1930.
January 28, 2012, 8:54pm
The first time I saw my mother, she’d been dead
fourteen years and came as a ghost in the mirror,
plucking the hair beneath her arms, and humming
a bossa nova. She lotioned her chapped heels
and padded her bra as if she were alive in the old way.
She said I was born with my cord wrapped
around my neck like a rosary, and she knew God,
the doomed father of her days, wanted us both.
Before midnight she plaited my hair, hemmed my skirt,
sang lullabies she’d learned on the other side of the flood.
She lifted her dress to show her bones shedding light
on a stillborn fetus accidentally raptured into her ribs.
She said she’d choose her death again, obey any pain
heaven gave her. Years ago she watched a man ride
a diving bell to the bottom of the Amazon to face
the mysteries God had placed there. The chain broke,
and they pulled him to the surface smiling, stiff, refusing
to open his fists. They broke and unpeeled his fingers.
No one wept or fought to hold it. She covered her eyes
so she wouldn’t see what God, in his innocence, had done.
(Source: poets.org)
January 26, 2012, 3:43am
Three Little Pigs..
Follow Mei wish i could draw like this
January 26, 2012, 3:40am
January 26, 2012, 3:39am
used to have this book. i also think its where tim and eric got the idea for “pussy doodles”
(Source: ripshannon)
January 24, 2012, 3:24am

(Source: illuminadia)
January 20, 2012, 3:36am
William Blake - in The Book of Urizen
January 20, 2012, 3:33am
Because she has a jungle inside her and two savage rivers.
Because the flood season never left her. Her cheeks
ache with it. Her lungs are full of summer, that brutal season.
The water inside her used to murmur, You are both mortal
and immortal. But it’s gone quiet in this new country.
When she bathes, he hides the knives and listens at the door.
Because she is too good at surrender. Because she keeps a box
of his letters, thinks the spiked signature under Yours forever
is a contract. She tries to pray, but the voice that answers sounds so much like her own. She stops saying Amen
because she fears endings and starts to talk about
the jungle again - the smell of mud, the taste of snake,
how macaws cannot bear to lose their mate. If one dies,
the other collapses its wings, plummets to earth.
Because she closes her eyes when she tells this story.
Because he has always feared heights. Because at night
she crawls out onto the roof and watches streetlights
struggle through the night’s last hours. Because she wakes him,
her hands full of red feathers, and says, I’m yours forever.
Because when he holds her, he hears the rain break in her throat.
January 19, 2012, 1:21am