My name is Jacqui G. I believe art is the most honest form of recording history we have. As artists, it is our responsibility to respond to the world as we see it, live it and breath it. We're poets. We're artists. We shake shit up. It's in our job description. Check the fine print.


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Apr 13, 2014
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(Source: folha-de-maconha, via dgusketchbook)


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Apr 12, 2014
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For a star to be born, there is one thing that must happen: a gaseous nebula must collapse.

So collapse.
Crumble.
This is not your destruction.

This is your birth.

n.t. (via thedapperproject)

(via thedapperproject)


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Apr 5, 2014
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sincerelywithlove:

Poetry reading at the Contemporary Art Museum (ft. Mary Jo Bang & Carl Phillips).

sincerelywithlove:

Poetry reading at the Contemporary Art Museum (ft. Mary Jo Bang & Carl Phillips).


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Mar 30, 2014
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respect. the years of your creative puberty. however long it may take. you need them to become yourself. you need the maturation of your art to become the artist you dream of.

— nayyirah waheed (via nayyirahwaheed)

(via nayyirahwaheed)


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Mar 24, 2014
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You are a
hurricane of
a girl;

remember
to breathe
every once

and a while,
do not drown
within your
own storm.

— i think i saw you smile once, Emma Bleker (via creatingaquietmind)

(via cursivebones)


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Mar 23, 2014
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And I cried. For myself. For this woman talkin’ about love. For all the women who have ever stretched their bodies out anticipating civilization and finding ruins.

— Sonia Sanchez (Homegirls and Handgrenades)

(Source: likethebrimofahat, via cursivebones)


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Mar 12, 2014
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Art hurts. Art urges voyages — and it is easier to stay at home.

— Gwendolyn Brooks (via observando)

(via goldensoul)


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Jan 28, 2014
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riverofbones:

vintage & models ❂

riverofbones:

vintage & models 

(Source: kieferchase, via f-e-l-i-s-c-a-t-u-s)


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Jan 27, 2014
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i’m not a girl
i’m a storm with skin

— (via chewingdirt)

(Source: sailllboat, via f-e-l-i-s-c-a-t-u-s)


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Jan 26, 2014
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scientists ran a DNA test on my poetry
and found traces of you
in every single line.
your hair, the two mountain peaks
of your upper lip,
your cheekbones.
God, those fucking cheekbones.
where did you come from?
how did you get all over my hands?
I’m drinking through my verses
trying to write something
that doesn’t sound like
“I didn’t mean to make you a habit”
but it’s all the same, really.
I turn the page upside down
and can still read the words perfectly.
I should take up smoking.
I hear it’s calming and, most likely, fatal.
I’ve written so many poems, and none of them
are even mine.

— Mine | Caitlyn S. (via alonesomes)

fuck, man.

(via racingbackwards)


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Jan 25, 2014
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34 excuses for why we failed at love. »

warsanshire:

1. I’m lonely so I do lonely things.

2. Loving you was like going to war, I never came back the same.

3. You hate women, just like your father and his father, so it runs in your blood.

4. I was wandering the derelict car park of your heart looking for a ride…

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Jan 24, 2014
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(via mi--rae)


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Jan 23, 2014
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siemcia:

vertical blog.

siemcia:

vertical blog.

(Source: life1nmotion, via injunio)


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Jan 22, 2014
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i’m not interested in being easy on the eyes
i want them to flinch, think twice before they reach out their callous hands to bruise.
i want to be a constant reminder to men that not everything is theirs for the taking.

fabiola - for girls who aren’t interested in being easy on the eyes (via roserosetyler)

(via mi--rae)


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Dec 2, 2013
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394 notes

Art is political and you ought to be able to make it unquestionably political and irrevocably beautiful at the same time.

— Toni Morrison (via theeducatedfieldnegro)

(via theeducatedfieldnegro)