and nothing was burning,
nothing but I,
Denise Levertov, from Poems: 1960 – 1967; “Caedmon,”
(via violentwavesofemotion)
Well, I have a new favourite poet.
This fucking poem forced a more emotional responce in me than Shakespeare’s entire body of work.
OP here.
C’mon, my guy.
My guy, c’mon.
Shakespeare would love this Nael kid, c’mon ;D
We are the music-makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams.
World-losers and world-forsakers,
Upon whom the pale moon gleams;
Yet we are the movers and shakers,
Of the world forever, it seems.
FFS 2016… the bloodthirstiest year on the innocent that ever bloodthirstied on the innocent *cries* (@claudias-ashes told me about this and just… ugh.)
[^my update of @takemetocoffin-or-losemeforever‘s gif [X]]
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
(Painting Diana Elisabeth Raum, Poem William Blake)
Lestat on Davids Tiger after the Gobi Desert
Our love was like a double-edged sword.
However much I harmed you,
you hurt me,
too.And I’ve known,
from the scratch of your first kiss,
it would be
my favorite way to bleed.
The words Mentalist fans have playing over and over in their heads.
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
I-want-my-IWTV 