words to drown in


I notice there’s already a couple of book threads on the forum, but I was wondering if there’s any insightful tidbits that you guys carry with you? Any sequence of words to make life more bearable?

Whenever I’m feeling intolerably blue I find myself thinking about certain passages…

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke

“I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.“
― W.B. Yeats

“You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.”
― Franz Kafka

“Metaphors are dangerous. Love begins with a metaphor. Which is to say, love begins at the point when a woman enters her first word into our poetic memory.”
― Milan Kundera



there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I’m not going
to let anybody see
there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
in there.

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
you want to blow my book sales in
there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody’s asleep.
I say, I know that you’re there,
so don’t be
then I put him back,
but he’s singing a little
in there, I haven’t quite let him
and we sleep together like
with our
secret pact
and it’s nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don’t
weep, do



Oh thou, who givest sustenance to the universe
From whom all things proceed
To whom all things return
Unveil to us the face of the true spiritual sun
Hidden by a disk of golden light
That we may know the truth
And do our whole duty
As we journey to thy sacred feet

Kate Bush, opening prayer to her song Lily


“In this world
love has no color
yet how deeply
my body
is stained by yours.”
― Izumi Shikibu, Diaries of Court Ladies of Old Japan


@geneva I love this poem! I’ve read some of Bukowski but never ran into this one. Then again, maybe I was reading base off of titles. Laughing Heart is also beautiful. “The Gods wait to delight in you.”

@Stewart Your dedication to Kate Bush is admirable!!!

@Crane, this is so beautiful. I definitely want to delve into her diary.


To pray you open your whole self
To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon
To one whole voice that is you.
And know there is more
That you can’t see, can’t hear,
Can’t know except in moments
Steadily growing, and in languages
That aren’t always sound but other
Circles of motion.
Like eagle that Sunday morning
Over Salt River. Circled in blue sky
In wind, swept our hearts clean
With sacred wings.
We see you, see ourselves and know
That we must take the utmost care
And kindness in all things.
Breathe in, knowing we are made of
All this, and breathe knowing
We are truly blessed because we
Were born, and die soon within a
True circle of motion,
Like eagle rounding out the morning
Inside us.
We pray that it will be done
In beauty.
In beauty.

-Joy Harjo


“The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd - The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are. We feel ourselves to be a deserted field at dusk, sad with reeds next to a river without boats, its glistening waters blackening between wide banks.”
-Fernando Pessoa


“Time passes and the constants stay…”.


“Filling the conscious mind with ideal conceptions is a characteristic of Western theosophy, but not the confrontation with the shadow and the world of darkness. One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious. The later procedure, however, is disagreeable and therefore not popular.” C.G. Jung


“The experience of Self brings a feeling of standing on solid ground inside oneself, on a patch of eternity, which even physical death cannot touch” - Marie-Louise von Franz

Alone we are born
And die alone;
Yet see the red-gold cirrus
Over snow mountain shine
Upon the upland road
Ride easy, stranger
Surrender to the sky
Your heart of anger.
- James K. Baxter (High Country Weather)


These are really awesome you guys, I am swimming in them!


Other Writers

Steve Sanfield is a great haiku master.
He lives in the country with Sarah,
his beautiful wife,
and he writes about the small things.

Kyozan Joshu Roshi,
who has brought hundreds of monks
to a full awakening,
addresses the simultaneous
expansion and contraction
of the cosmos.

I go on and on
about a noble young woman
who unfastened her jeans
in the front seat of my jeep
and let me touch
the source of life
because I was so far from it.

I’ve got to tell you, friends,
I prefer my stuff to theirs.

-Leonard Cohen


The way to You
by Hakim Sanai
English version by Priya Hemenway Original Language Persian/Farsi

The way to You
lies clearly in my heart
and cannot be seen or known to the mind.
As my words turn to silence,
Your sweetness surrounds me.


In youth, it was a way I had
To do my best to please,
And change, with every passing lad,
To suit his theories.

But now I know the things I know,
And do the things I do;
And if you do not like me so,
To hell, my love, with you!

-Dorothy Parker


As Coroner, I must aver
I thoroughly examined her
And she’s not only merely dead
She’s really, most sincerely dead.

-Coroner of Munchkinland (in reference to the Wicked Witch of the East)


A Silly Poem

Said Hamlet to Ophelia,
I’ll draw a sketch of thee,
What kind of pencil shall I use?
2B or not 2B?

by Spike Milligan


“Only those who attempt the absurd will achieve the impossible. I think… I think it’s in my basement… Let me go upstairs and check.”


Why can’t you see
That nature has its way of warning me

-The Verve (from their song Sonnet)

very cool turn of phrase, stays with me


“Too lazy to be ambitious,
I let the world take care of itself.
Ten days’ worth of rice in my bag;
a bundle of twigs by the fireplace.
Why chatter about delusion and enlightenment?
Listening to the night rain on my roof,
I sit comfortably, with both legs stretched out.”
~ Ryōkan


(…)"but he did not understand the price, mortals never do.

They only see the price, their hearts desire, their dream…
But the price of getting what you want, is getting what you once wanted." Sandman (comic)

" i had, yes, hope, because is all having hope or is death" Fernando Pessoa

“I form part of a generation (…) that lost equally the faith in old religion’s gods and the faith in the modern’s unreligions(?). I cannot accept Jesus nor humanity. Christ and the progress are for me but myths of the same world. I don’t believe in the virgin Mary nor in electricity” Fernando Pessoa

"(…)O blasphemy of art! fatal surprise!
This woman fashioned to embody bliss
Is at the top a monster with two heads!

  • But no! it’s just a mask, a trick design,
    This visage lit by an exquisite air,
    And look, see here how cruelly it is clenched,
    The undissembling face of the true head,
    Turned to the shelter of the face that lies.
    O beauty, how I pity you! the great
    Stream of your tears ends in my anxious heart;
    Your lie transports me, and my soul drinks up
    The seas brought forth by Sorrow from your eyes!

  • But what has made her cry? A beauty who
    Could have all mankind conquered at her feet,
    What secret pain gnaws at her hardy tlank?

  • The reason, fool, she cries is that she’s lived!
    And that she lives! But what she most deplores,
    What makes her tremble even to her knees,
    Is that tomorrow she’ll be living still!
    Tomorrow, every day! - And so will we!"
    Charles Baudelaire