Fox. Xican@. EMT-B.

For some reason, we think that poetry is this thing you do on the side, once you get your math done or your science done. Same thing with writing or any of the things we call “the arts” – there’s this idea that they’re just an elective, they’re just decoration, and they have nothing to do with our survival … or why we can stand to be here.

That’s the reason I’ve made it to 53 – because of finding these things that poetry or painting or place contain. That’s the stuff of mental health, and we ignore it at our peril.

Lynda Barry, brilliant as ever, in an interview about poetry. Pair with other luminaries on how the humanities make us human and E.O. Wilson on why science and the arts need one another.

Perhaps Wordsworth was right when he wrote that “poetry is the breath and finer spirit of all knowledge.”

(via explore-blog)


this sistereskista poem still gets me every time.

tagged: #poetry #slam poetry
December 22nd, 2013

An hour and a half before midnight,
the last thing I expected tonight,
was to find myself asleep
on your living room floor.

Wrapped up in my thoughts,
knowing I no longer liked you,
knowing you never liked me,
knowing more than I wanted to:

I was never of worth to those
who made me smile.

And I fear
I duplicate
that same
to others.

Silent and cold,
at the center of what was
what might have been
and what I didn’t know
never would be,
I fell asleep
scared of becoming
the memory of past lovers
who scarred me in ways
I’m ashamed to admit.

A haiku about being turned down for a job

I don’t need this shit
You fuckers will regret this
When I am famous

— theme