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sloth unleashed

@mudwerks / mudwerks.tumblr.com

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above: From Oliver Byrne’s 1847 “Elements of Euclid

A (pro- or anti-) science-, mathematics-, technology-, space-, apocalypse-, dehumanization-, disenchantment-, and/or future-oriented poem published during sf’s emergent Radium Age (c. 1900–1935). Research and selection by Joshua Glenn.

Old Euclid drew a circle On a sand-beach long ago. He bounded and enclosed it With angles thus and so. His set of solemn greybeards Nodded and argued much Of arc and circumference, Diameter and such. A silent child stood by them From morning until noon Because they drew such charming Round pictures of the moon.

— 1914 poem

Source: hilobrow.com
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50watts
If anything is real, it is the mind Approaching sleep, listing the tiny bones Within the ear: anvil, stirrup, hammer…

Kevin Hart, from “Approaching Sleep”

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Silent film star Theda Bara, "The first vamp." (1885-1955) in a publicity still for the 1915 film A Fool There Was. This film was based on Rudyard Kipling's 1897 poem "The Vampire" which explores the popular fin de siècle trope of the destructive allure of the femme fatale or "vampire;" You can read the poem in its entirety by clicking here...
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liquidnight
Lady, lady, never start Conversation toward your heart; Keep your pretty words serene; Never murmur what you mean. Show yourself, by word and look, Swift and shallow as a brook. Be as cool and quick to go As a drop of April snow; Be as delicate and gay As a cherry flower in May. Lady, lady, never speak Of the tears that burn your cheek- She will never win him, whose Words had shown she feared to lose. Be you wise and never sad, You will get your lovely lad. Never serious be, nor true, And your wish will come to you- And if that makes you happy, kid, You’ll be the first it ever did.

Dorothy Parker, “The Lady’s Reward” (via liquidnight)

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The Garden
Like a skein of loose silk blown against a wall She walks by the railing of a path in Kensington Gardens, And she is dying piece-meal of a sort of emotional anæmia. And round about there is a rabble Of the filthy, sturdy, unkillable infants of the very poor. They shall inherit the earth. In her is the end of breeding. Her boredom is exquisite and excessive. She would like some one to speak to her, And is almost afraid that I will commit that indiscretion.
-Ezra Pound
Source: processes
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