Paul van Dongen, Crown of Thorns (2) / Crown of Thorns (3) / Crown of Thorns (4) / Crown of Thorns (5)

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Paul van Dongen, Crown of Thorns (2) / Crown of Thorns (3) / Crown of Thorns (4) / Crown of Thorns (5)

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Paul van Dongen, Crown of Thorns (2) / Crown of Thorns (3) / Crown of Thorns (4) / Crown of Thorns (5)
A joke I was once told goes, I didn’t choose this life, this life chose me. Fuck that. Choose a hell of your own making over the hell that unmakes you. Flower a garden of rage & eat & eat & eat.
— Natalie Wee, from “Wei Ying Tells Me about Resurrection,” Beast at Every Threshold
Ours is not a love song sprouted from redemption, hope or even longing. But it is a love song. Sing it under your breath. Sharpen it every morning.
Guante, “The Spill” (via buttonpoetry)
Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

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“This evening, I will not cry for my dead I’ll instead launch their names into the sky I’ll tear off the stars one by one And paste in their place the wide-open eyes of the departed. Let their gaze strike this earth Gorged with bodies and sweat And all it hides in its entrails Let these gazes become lightning, new suns and new moons.”
— Jean-Dany Joachim, “This Evening, I Will Not Cry for My Dead,” via Mass Poetry
Erlkönig https://youtu.be/3F8TJ8qarls
“I am not pure and I am still sacred.”
from Pluma Sumac’s essay “A Disgrace Reserved for Prostitutes: Complicity & the Beloved Community” in LIES, a journal of material feminism, no. II

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George Shaw (British, b. 1966), Every Brush Stroke is Torn Out of My Body, 2015-16. Enamel on canvas, 178.5 x 198 cm.
—Rosario Castellanos, “The Other” (tr. Magda Bogin)
Marina Tsvetaeva, Poem of the End (Trans. by Paul Schmidt)
toni morrison, sula // stephanie peters, fire // seneca, medea (trans. a.j. boyle) // david mcconochie, medea // peter russell, night the first // stephanie peters, roaring flame // hozier, arsonist’s lullabye // jackson pollock, the flame
Abbas Kiarostami, from “A Wolf Lying in Wait; Poems,” published c. 2015

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Madeline Miller, Circe
“i believe in omens / and my own ability to shatter and reform”
— Jill Khoury, from “Sixteen,” published in Diode (via knives-and-poisons)