The Pocketmouse

Miike Snow & Lykke Li - Black tin box

Wed, 22 May 2013 18:36:16 -0400

Miike Snow & Lykke Li - Black tin box

“The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in love...

Wed, 22 May 2013 18:29:00 -0400

“The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man’s body.The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously an image of life’s most intense fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become. Conversely, the absolute absence of burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant. What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?”

― Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

Dear Moon, We blame you for floodsfor the flush of bloodfor men who are also wolvesand even though...

Wed, 22 May 2013 18:26:42 -0400

Dear Moon,

We blame you for floods
for the flush of blood
for men who are also wolves
and even though you could pull
the tide in by its hair
we tell people that we walked all
over you
we blame you for the night
for the dark
for the ghosts
you cold unimaginable thing
following us home,
we use you
to see each others frail
naked bodies beneath your blue light,
we let you watch; you
swollen against the glass
breath a halo of steam
as we move against one another
wet and desperate
like fish under
a waterlogged sky

-Warsan Shire

23 degrees and a lovely new brasier

Mon, 20 May 2013 08:31:00 -0400

23 degrees and a lovely new brasier

Accepted to the University of Toronto, following the footsteps of Margaret Atwood and Michael...

Sat, 18 May 2013 11:04:43 -0400

Accepted to the University of Toronto, following the footsteps of Margaret Atwood and Michael Ondaatje!

“God, do you know how difficult it is, to talk about the day your own city dragged you by the...

Fri, 17 May 2013 13:41:51 -0400

“God, do you know how difficult it is, to talk about the day your own city dragged you by the hair, past the old prison, past the school gates, past the burning torsos erected on poles like flags? When I meet others like me I recognise the longing, the missing, the memory of ash on their faces. No one leaves home unless home is the mouth of a shark. I’ve been carrying the old anthem in my mouth for so long that there’s no space for another song, another tongue or another language … I tore up and ate my own passport in an airport hotel. I’m bloated with language I can’t afford to forget.”

- Warsan Shire, from ‘Conversations About Home’

“The gods envy us. They envy us because we’re mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything...

Fri, 17 May 2013 13:36:50 -0400

“The gods envy us. They envy us because we’re mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.”

- Troy

your latest 8tracks= perfect <3

Fri, 17 May 2013 06:01:53 -0400

i’m glad you like it :)

Video

Thu, 16 May 2013 20:46:47 -0400

Wed, 15 May 2013 09:59:04 -0400

Photo

Tue, 14 May 2013 09:50:22 -0400

It was the summer of salt water and honey. You were picking thorns from your palms and I was...

Mon, 13 May 2013 22:01:00 -0400

It was the summer of

salt water and

honey.

You were picking thorns

from your palms

and I

was coughing up words

stitched together

by a spider’s thread.

At night,

we listened to

Spanish guitar and

watched the stars.

I asked you

why the sky was littered

with diamonds.

I asked you

if your God was a jeweler.

Where I live,

the streets are littered

The people are littered

and God is a bee keeper.

- Lana Maric, Evening Primrose

There’s nothing quite like hearing trumpet playing from the open window of a city apartment.

Sun, 12 May 2013 10:32:00 -0400

There’s nothing quite like hearing trumpet playing from the open window of a city apartment.

Charlotte Gainsbourg - The Songs That We Sing

Sat, 11 May 2013 22:19:00 -0400

Charlotte Gainsbourg - The Songs That We Sing

A snail is climbing up the window-sillinto your room, after a night of rain.You call me in to see,...

Sat, 11 May 2013 22:17:18 -0400

A snail is climbing up the window-sill
into your room, after a night of rain.
You call me in to see, and I explain
that it would be unkind to leave it there:
It might crawl to the floor; we must take care
that no one squashes it. You understand,
and carry it outside, with careful had,
to eat a daffodil.

I see, then, that a kind of faith prevails:
your gentleness is molded still by words
from me, who have trapped mice and shot wild birds,
from me, who drowned your kittens, who betrayed
four closest relatives, and who purveyed
the harshest kind of truth to may another.
But that is how things are: I am your mother,
and we are kind to snails.

- Fleur Adcock, For A Five-Year-Old

diaryofdetails: Here are some beautiful things: (May 9/2013) - Eyes squinting while laughing -...

Thu, 09 May 2013 16:17:28 -0400

diaryofdetails:

Here are some beautiful things:

(May 9/2013)

- Eyes squinting while laughing

- Deserted highways

- Initials carved in trees, wooden park benches, and young hearts

So I found you first on 8tracks and I can't stop listening, and now I've found you on Tumblr and you're even more fascinating... But anyways, my question is, what is something that makes you blissfully, careless happy?

Thu, 09 May 2013 16:13:00 -0400

thank you, you’re too kind.

i like the moments within moments. eye contact at a beautiful time. noticing something small within a time of bliss. that moment in which words sink into your heart. recognizing beauty at the right time; as it’s happening.

Thu, 09 May 2013 16:06:09 -0400

Photo

Wed, 08 May 2013 19:29:28 -0400

diaryofdetails: Here are some beautiful things: (May 8/2013) - Early morning fluttering lashes -...

Wed, 08 May 2013 06:55:03 -0400

diaryofdetails:

Here are some beautiful things:

(May 8/2013)

- Early morning fluttering lashes

- The sounds of an orchestra tuning

- The fragility of certain words & the fear of them shattering as they fall from the cliff of your lips