He hated Imperial Japanese who dropped those eggs on Pearl Harbour. He had no beef with native born Japanese. They were fellow Americans... This was pure Christian logic. Hate was wrong. He witnessed it now in wide context. Moral forfeit on an epidemic scale. Red Sheet, James Ellroy 💙📚

The Unknown Bird, Edward Thomas 💙📚

I know now how life is cheap as dirt, And still the hungry, angry heart Hangs on and howls, biting at air. The Vacuum, Howard Nemerov 💙📚

💙📚

Sea go dark, dark with wind, Feet go heavy, heavy with sand, Thoughts go wild, wild with the sound Of iron on the old shed swinging, clanging; Go dark, go heavy, go wild, go round, Dark with the wind, Heavy with the sand, Wild Iron, Allen Curnow 💙📚

And what the cure of all this? What the not and not suffering? What the better and later of this? What the more of me? The Wind suffers of blowing, Laura Riding 💙📚

Oh, to love what is lovely and will not last! What a task to ask of anything, or anyone, yet it is ours, and not by the century or the year, but by the hours. Snow Geese, Mary Oliver 💙📚

Though I play at the edges of knowing, truly I know our part is not knowing but looking, and touching and loving Bones, Mary Oliver 💙📚

She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weird; But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears. Down by the Salley Gardens, W. B. Yeats 💙📚

To and fro we leap And chase the frothy bubbles, While the world is full of troubles And is anxious in its sleep. Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand. The Stolen Child, W. B. Yeats 💙📚

'Ah, do not mourn' he said, 'That we are tired, for other loves await us; Hate on and love through unrepining hours. Before us lies eternity; our souls Are love, and a continual farewell.' Ephemera, W. B. Yeats 💙📚

The hour of the waning of love has beset us, And weary and worn are our sad souls now; Let us part, ere the season of passion forget us, With a kiss and a tear on thy dropping brow. The Falling of the Leaves, W. B. Yeats 💙📚

Rage is only for what you believe can be fixed. All the rest is grief. Cormac McCarthy

What made my life so wonderful? What made me feel so bad? I used to wake up the ocean I used to walk on clouds David Bowie

I'm so sorry for that ghost I made you be Only one of us was real and that was me I haven't said a word since you been gone That any liar couldn't say as well I just can't believe the static coming on You were my ground, my safe and sound Treaty, Leonard Cohen

Listen to the butterfly Whose days but number three Listen to the butterfly Don't listen to me Leonard Cohen

You smile at your suffering The sweetest reprieve Why did you leave us? Why did you leave? ... It's torn on the right And it's torn on the left It's torn in the center Which few can accept ... Bruised at the shoulder And cut at the wrist The sea rushes home To its thimble of mist Leonard Cohen

And now you're gone, now you're gone As if there ever was a you Who broke the heart and made it new Who's moving on? Who's kidding who? Moving On, Leonard Cohen

📸

📸

💙📚

Do not, O my son, Seek foreknowledge of the heavy sorrow Your people will endure. Fate will allow the world Only to glimpse him, then rob it of him quickly. Aeneid - Book VI, Virgil Translated by Seamus Heaney 💙📚

Often and often, father, you would appear to me, Your sad shade would appear, and that kept me going To this end. Aeneid - Book VI, Virgil Translated by Seamus Heaney 💙📚

Farther on Is the dwelling place of those unhappy spirits Who died by their own hand, simply driven By life to a fierce rejection of the light. Aeneid - Book VI, Virgil Translated by Seamus Heaney 💙📚

What does it mean, O Sibyl, This push to the riverbank? What do these souls desire? What decides that one group is held back, another Rowed across the muddy waters? Aeneid - Book VI, Virgil Translated by Seamus Heaney 💙📚

...vouchsafe me one look, One face-to-face meeting with my dear father. Point out the road, open the holy doors wide. On these shoulders I bore him through flames And a thousand enemy spears. In the thick of fighting I saved him... Aeneid - Book VI, Virgil Translated by Seamus Heaney 💙📚

💙📚

💙📚