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#writing – @joshrandell on Tumblr
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Josh, Author

@joshrandell / joshrandell.tumblr.com

Hello to everyone. My name is Josh Randell (he/him) and I'm a self-published author whose work appears exclusively on Amazon at the moment. I'm a 51 year old male and I love hockey, woodworking, and DIY projects, and am a proud father. As some of the pictures indicate, I am Bisexual. I DON'T OWN ANY PICTURES POSTED, UNLESS CLEARLY STATED, AND WILL REMOVE ANY IF YOU ASK. Thank you to everybody that post such wonderful pictures, and especially those that create things for others to view. Please leave the world better than you found it or at least don't be a dick. Peace to all.
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Instead of telling us a thing was “terrible,” describe it so that we’ll be terrified. Don’t say it was “delightful”; make us say “delightful” when we’ve read the description. You see, all those words (horrifying, wonderful, hideous, exquisite) are only like saying to your readers, “Please will you do my job for me.”

C. S. Lewis (via writingdotcoffee)

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Anonymous asked:

favourite poems about the forest?

  • edward thomas, “lights out”: i must enter, and leave, alone, / i know not how.
  • gabriele d’annunzio, “the rain in the pinewood”: rain falls on your black eyelashes / so that you seem to weep / but from pleasure
  • evie shockley, “where you are planted”: we settle into still pools of humidity, moss- / dark, beneath live oaks
  • amy gerstler, “bon courage”: a forest appears / to a young girl one morning as she combs / the dreams out of   her hair. 
  • richard levine, “in a blue wood”: the faceless couple in van gogh’s blue wood, is walking / where there is no path
  • siegfried sassoon, “dream-forest”: where sunshine flecks the green, / through towering woods my way / goes winding all the day.
  • robert frost, “stopping by woods on a snowy evening”: and miles to go before I sleep, / and miles to go before I sleep.
  • mary oliver, “sleeping in the forest” and “black oaks”: and you can’t keep me from the woods, from the tonnage / of their shoulders, and their shining green hair.
  • john keats, “ode to psyche”: far, far around shall those dark-cluster’d trees / fledge the wild-ridged mountains steep by steep
  • r.s. thomas, “forest dwellers”: who called them forth to walk / in the green light, their thoughts / on darkness? 
  • léonie adams, “recollection of the wood”: toward that caress of the boughs a summer’s night / illimitable in fragrance and in sound.
  • gabriela mistral, “pine forest”: the night watches over its creatures, / except for the pine trees that never change.
  • kenneth rexroth, “falling leaves and early snow”: between the black pines lie narrow bands of moonlight, / glimmering with floating snow.
  • william carlos williams, “epitaph
  • h.d., “the helmsman”: we forgot—we worshipped, / we parted green from green
  • cole swensen, “five landscapes”: the trees are half air. they fissure the sky;
  • pablo neruda, “lost in the forest”: wakening from the dreaming forest there, the hazel-sprig / sang under my tongue
  • atsuro riley, “thicket”: for darkling green; / for thorn-surround.
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