April132013
“Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.” William Butler Yeats (via themorganlee)

poetry Yeats lit 

October142012
“Time will say nothing but I told you so,
Time only knows the price we have to pay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.

If we should weep when clowns put on their show,
If we should stumble when musicians play,
Time will say nothing but I told you so.

There are no fortunes to be told, although,
Because I love you more than I can say,
If I could tell you I would let you know.

The winds must come from somewhere when they blow,
There must be reasons why the leaves decay;
Time will say nothing but I told you so.

Perhaps the roses really want to grow,
The vision seriously intends to stay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.

Suppose the lions all get up and go,
And all the brooks and soldiers run away;
Will Time say nothing but I told you so? If I could tell you I would let you know.” If I Could Tell You, by W.H. Auden (via lightningstruck-tower)

a little poetry for your Sunday afternoon english major poetry literature 

September82012
“People have been asking what makes poetry different from other literature, aside from the fact that it can be written in verse: what enables it to represent thoughts and feelings, when thoughts and feelings are things we cannot see to represent? […] Thinking about what poetry has become for us, it is enormously productive to think that once upon a time, great thinkers didn’t consider emotions or thoughts as things that could be represented mimetically or realistically […] But, if poems can’t represent mimetically or realistically in the same ways as a play can or a realistic novel can, why is it that poems make us believe we are getting a “true” or “valid” representation of a thought or feeling?[…] How can words, those arbitrary symbols which are not clear and transparent, which do not mean exactly what we want them to and which on their own can be very unpoetic — cat, hall, eyes, you, the — be made to create the illusion of a true emotion or intellectual experience?” My English professor (via literaryvacuum)

(Source: playingtothebrightbeat)

english-major English literature poetry university Professor Quotes 

August302012

(via bambz45)

Robert Frost poetry quote english major 

July302012
recommendedreading: An excerpt from Joe Meno’s Office Girl: Odile nods and then pulls off her gray sweater, and she has a soft white T-shirt underneath, which traces the angular shape of her thin frame, and she is unbuttoning her pants but without standing up, which Jack finds pretty fascinating, and then this girl, this person he barely even knows, is in her white underwear, which Jack cannot help but stare at, and she is diving under the blankets, and Jack does not know what to do with himself, and so he unbuttons his shirt and decides to leave his pants on, and he begins to climb under the blankets, and she looks at him and says, “You can take off your pants,” and he nods, and turns around, and wonders what kind of underwear he has on, and he is secretly glad they are boxers, and relatively clean, and he feels an erection beginning to come on, and so he hurries beneath the comforter and sheets, and she turns away from him then, facing the wall, and there is her shoulder, and the shiny strap of her nude-colored bra, and freckle after freckle along her long neck, and he does not know if he should say something or do something else, and so ceases to think, only lies there, and in the absence of thought he listens to the girl breathing, and she turns her head toward him a little and says, “Goodnight,” and they sleep like that together for the first time without really touching each other, but the feeling is enough, at least for now, the inexplicable thrill of someone being beside you in a strange bed, and all that it might mean. Read the rest in Recommended Reading, your weekly dose of free fiction.

recommendedreading:

An excerpt from Joe Meno’s Office Girl:

Odile nods and then pulls off her gray sweater, and she has a soft white T-shirt underneath, which traces the angular shape of her thin frame, and she is unbuttoning her pants but without standing up, which Jack finds pretty fascinating, and then this girl, this person he barely even knows, is in her white underwear, which Jack cannot help but stare at, and she is diving under the blankets, and Jack does not know what to do with himself, and so he unbuttons his shirt and decides to leave his pants on, and he begins to climb under the blankets, and she looks at him and says, “You can take off your pants,” and he nods, and turns around, and wonders what kind of underwear he has on, and he is secretly glad they are boxers, and relatively clean, and he feels an erection beginning to come on, and so he hurries beneath the comforter and sheets, and she turns away from him then, facing the wall, and there is her shoulder, and the shiny strap of her nude-colored bra, and freckle after freckle along her long neck, and he does not know if he should say something or do something else, and so ceases to think, only lies there, and in the absence of thought he listens to the girl breathing, and she turns her head toward him a little and says, “Goodnight,” and they sleep like that together for the first time without really touching each other, but the feeling is enough, at least for now, the inexplicable thrill of someone being beside you in a strange bed, and all that it might mean.

Read the rest in Recommended Reading, your weekly dose of free fiction.

recommended reading joe meno sex love twee heartache heartbreak poetry performance art fiction chicago short story literature lit 

July242012
petit-fantome: elm 

petit-fantome:

elm 

(via cleveralice)

literature poetry lit sylvia plath text english major 

July182012
“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, “O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?” Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?” Dead Poets Society (via imajoredinenglish)

english major Dead Poets Society poetry literature 

July52012
nealio9: Word son.

nealio9:

Word son.

english major Books Reading Hangovers Literature Fiction Poetry Non-fiction Fantasy 

June132012

spiffing-books:

… And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, “O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?” Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?

reading poetry english major 

June122012
guiseppegetto: hawt

guiseppegetto:

hawt

(Source: dharmasimulation)

english major education poetry literature 

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