A Room of my Own
Literature, prose, poetry, words and more words...

"Open a book this minute and start reading. Don't move until you've reached page fifty. Until you've buried your thoughts in print. Cover yourself with words. Wash yourself away. Dissolve."

Creator: Tarkovskologist
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Bright Eyes - Drunk Kid Catholic


Bright Eyes - Drunk Kid Catholic


Open Culture digs up T.S. Eliot’s illustrated cover for Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats – later famously illustrated by the great Edward Gorey – and the author’s handwritten, hand-drawn manuscripts.

Pair with J.R.R. Tolkien’s illustrations for the original edition of The Hobbit and E.B. White’s rare illustrated manuscripts for Charlotte’s Web.

And are you reading the always-stimulating Open Culture? Okay, good.

Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky.
— Khalil Gibran (via aphelia)

we are slaves to hopes that have run to
— Charles Bukowski, “hogs in the sky”

… but the whole world is like this:
nobody knows what they are supposed to know—
Charles Bukowski, “kaakaa & other immolations”

I think good poetry should startle, shatter and,
yes, entertain while getting as close to the truth as
— Charles Bukowski, "on the sunny banks of the university"

All your beauty, all your wit, is a gift, my dear, From me.
Sylvia Plath, Soliloquy of the Solipsist

I walk alone;
The midnight street
Spins itself from under my feet; When my eyes shut
These dreaming houses all snuff out; Through a whim of mine

Sylvia Plath, Soliloquy of the Solipsist


My soul, dressed in silence, rises up
and stands alone before you: can’t you see?
Rainer Maria Rilke, I am, O Anxious One. Don’t you hear my voice 

Love as two spirits merging,” he thinks,
“the flesh growing luminous and then transparent.
— Jack Gilbert, "Factoring" from The Great Fires: Poems, 1982-1992