1. "

    To a Husband

    Brighter than fireflies upon the Uji River
    Are your words in the dark, Beloved.

    — -Amy Lowell

  2. mercedesbenzodiazepine:

    I hate when you’re like “fuck it’s so hot” and someone’s like “well why don’t you take your jacket off?” Like bitch no…this is my outfit

    (via kissmysound)


  3. The Ballad of the Lonely Masturbator

    The end of the affair is always death.   
    She’s my workshop. Slippery eye,   
    out of the tribe of myself my breath   
    finds you gone. I horrify
    those who stand by. I am fed.   
    At night, alone, I marry the bed.
    Finger to finger, now she’s mine.   
    She’s not too far. She’s my encounter.   
    I beat her like a bell. I recline
    in the bower where you used to mount her.   
    You borrowed me on the flowered spread.   
    At night, alone, I marry the bed.

    Take for instance this night, my love,   
    that every single couple puts together   
    with a joint overturning, beneath, above,   
    the abundant two on sponge and feather,   
    kneeling and pushing, head to head.   
    At night alone, I marry the bed.
    I break out of my body this way,   
    an annoying miracle. Could I   
    put the dream market on display?   
    I am spread out. I crucify.
    My little plum is what you said.   
    At night, alone, I marry the bed.

    Then my black-eyed rival came.
    The lady of water, rising on the beach,   
    a piano at her fingertips, shame   
    on her lips and a flute’s speech.
    And I was the knock-kneed broom instead.   
    At night, alone, I marry the bed.
    She took you the way a woman takes   
    a bargain dress off the rack
    and I broke the way a stone breaks.
    I give back your books and fishing tack.   
    Today’s paper says that you are wed.   
    At night, alone, I marry the bed.

    The boys and girls are one tonight.
    They unbutton blouses. They unzip flies.   
    They take off shoes. They turn off the light.   
    The glimmering creatures are full of lies.
    They are eating each other. They are overfed.   
    At night, alone, I marry the bed.
    by Annie Sexton
  4. A Bird of Stone by performance Reetu Sattar

    Duration: 6 hours

    "I dedicate my walk from Baridhara US embassy to Dhanmondi 27 Drik for the innocent lives lost in the lust of power from generations after generations. Since July by the mayhems done by Israel I was just smashed mentally. I didn’t know how to express my helplessness in this critical point of time. And then after one month I was numb. I wasn’t carrying the same tormented feeling I had in the beginning or then after. So this numbness this forgetting things or one memory just crowded under another story, another massacre or another invasion made me do ‘A bird of Stone’. I wanted to remember the feeling of agony the livelihoods faced, facing and will face for the US supported invasion and I wanted my closest people whom I not only know as my loved ones but as fighters too to dedicate one of their most memorable or favorite things to dedicate to the performance. I told them to dedicate the memory in remembrance of one face or one death what would always remain with them. With gratitude I like to remember my closest comrades and families: Topu, Seuty, Rubayat, Munmun, Wasif, Nupurapa, Masumbi, Khaledbi, Shulekhadi, Limapa, Shahidul, Lipiapa and Mahbubbi. Also Rezabi and two persons from street dedicated their valuable memories for the performance."

    -Reetu Sattar

    (Photographs by Munem Wasif)


  5. pax-arabica:

    The ceasefire between the Gaza factions and Israel is not just a ceasefire.

    In exchange, Israel is lifting the siege on Gaza and the opening of the Rafah border crossing. It’s a HUGE win for the resistance, and a major blow to Abbas.

    They agreed to carry on negotiating for a…

    The agreement is undoubtedly a victory for the resistance. But don’t forget that the current deal is similar to the 2011 ceasefire… it’s got all the right words, but no way to hold Israel accountable for breaking it again.

    We cannot sleep. Back to work!

  7. Blue-Eyed Son

    The hammers rock us out of our slumbers


    Bodies writhe, undulating in their numbers

    Glistened chests throb, not to their veins

    Riddled with teardrops, once in their chains

    The metals ring of laughter asunder

    Streets blush yellow, as the cries roar thunder

    I will say “fight”, and I will call “peace”

    The strings will keep tight, if only for the need


    Rusted pillars reaching to the clouds;

    The clouds, they lap one another

    Putting forth that unfathomable staircase which pervades your sleep,

    "The sky is open" you are told,

    "Why now, though?"

    "When my tendons have ceased to pulse?

  8. themuslimavenger:

    "And as things fell apart, nobody paid much attention."

    Recent picture taken in Gaza.

    (via rosaluxmemeburg)

  9. TIME’s new cover on the tragedy of Ferguson.

  10. “There are those who struggle for a day, and they are good. There are others who struggle for a year, and they are better. There are some who struggle many years, and they are better still. But there are those who struggle all their lives, and these are the indispensable ones.”

    -Bertolt Brecht

    For 14 years, Irom Sharmila Chan, also known as the Iron Lady of Maipur, has sustained her hunger strike against the widespread and continued abuses by the Indian Security Forces in the Northeast of the country.