Anyhow - I sat by your side, by the water

You taught me the names of the stars overhead that I wrote down in my ledger

Though all I knew of the rote universe were those pleiades loosed in december

I promised you I'd set them to verse so I'd always remember

That the meteorite is a source of the light

And the meteor's just what we see

And the meteoroid is a stone that's devoid of the fire that propelled it to thee

And the meteorite's just what causes the light

And the meteor's how it's perceived

And the meteoroid's a bone thrown from the void that lies quiet in offering to thee

("Emily" by Joanna Newsom. Images by Nasa.) xo

 

Up Only

"Every heart is lined with explosives."

Everything

The dead do not need
aspirin or
sorrow,
I suppose.

but they might need
rain.
not shoes
but a place to
walk.

not cigarettes,
they tell us,
but a place to
burn.

or we're told:
space and a place to
fly
might be the
same.

the dead don't need
me.

nor do the
living.

but the dead might need
each
other.

in fact, the dead might need
everything we
need

and
we need so much
if we only knew
what it
was.

it is
probably
everything

and we will all
probably die
trying to get
it

or die

because we
don't get
it.

I hope
you will understand
when I am dead

I got
as much
as
possible.

(Charles Bukowski)