love is a loaded gun

My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun -In Corners - till a Day
The Owner passed - identified -
And carried Me away -

And now We roam in Sovereign Woods -

And now We hunt the Doe -

And every time I speak for Him 

-The Mountains straight reply -

And do I smile, such cordial light

Upon the Valley glow -

It is as a Vesuvian face

Had let its pleasure through -

And when at Night - Our good Day done -

I guard My Master's Head -

'Tis better than the Eider-Duck's
Deep Pillow - to have shared -

To foe of His - I'm deadly foe -

None stir the second time -

On whom I lay a Yellow Eye -

Or an emphatic Thumb -

Though I than He - may longer live

He longer must - than I -

For I have but the power to kill,

Without--the power to die--

poem by emily dickinson

photographs by marianna rothen's domesticated woman series

for a midsummer night

They are fleeting.

They are fragile.

They require

little water.

They’ll surprise you.

They’ll remind you

that they aren’t

and they are you

flowers by wendy videlock
via abundance

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by chance

 

show yourself to me!

i am ready for your dazzling haze and

i will think not of your inevitable betrayal 

when our alliance is broken by thee.

photos via chance

ps: if simplicity, adventure and design is your bag, check out this inspiring timeline on the chance website.

sweet spring

//bee raw// raw honey comes in lovely flavors like blueberry, buckwheat, sweet yellow clover, star thistle, wild black sage,...

you will also find suggested fruit, cheese and wine pairings for each flavor along with recipes. 

pure, unprocessed sweetness. 

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grey days

i like to spend my days

in a cloud of entirely grey.

via tumblr

poetry is motion

melbourne dance company poster designs 2012

via behance

summer

i play with my shadow and have tea parties in my bed

i sit in the rain

i bake cookies for my imaginary friend

i dont wear clothes but sometimes i play dress up

i sit in cafes

me & my lonesome cup

chronology

A Poem

by: yours truly

i've been waxing and waning here for too long.

through the splenda summers of june

and the backyard campfires of july,

through august's crowded hallways

of crisp uniforms and eager eyes,

past september and november

with old textbooks and rosaries,

i've endured the weight of december's

small talk and calories,

January broke its promises

18 candles blown out by me,

february made me swoon

with its arrows and mythology,

i met march's dreaded Robin

april's shades of blue and gray,

may's Pianos in the Woods

mangled me to play.

time and space change shape and form

chronology tells me how to shine,

these stars are growing vain and vapid

i need a different skyline.

[with allusions to my girl emily dickinson]