| This is pretty much all there is to say about my poems. |
Cheeful Little Poem
Newest
NullBlack spirals of ink bleed from pages of inconsequential nothings. The words dance in lightning strikes and crooked lines, a carbon stick figure of thought, never stopping, never curving, hard angles and hard edges and hard colors. Ideas are effervescent; ephemeral are ideas. Why does the dictionary not match the mind? Why does the mind not match the dictionary? What is lost between the fluid connotation and the solid denotation? Where is the gas?Null
Hurly burly zinging seraphim gash fragments lying crying, sighing sadness.
The characters all lie dead in unmarked graves. The story is over because it could never begin. A
by ~Sesquipedaliaphile
A TunnelYou're walking through a dark tunnel. You've been down it so long that you can't turn around; not any more. The sound of stones against your sneakers echoes off the walls, reverberating like a sinister didgeridoo. You are alone in the dark.A Tunnel
Then you see it. A light. At the end of the tunnel.
Energy flows back into your veins. You run forward –
– and trip over a wooden slat.
That's when you hear the whistle.
by ~Sesquipedaliaphile
Red is a Nice ColorWatch it fall.Red is a Nice Color
See how it accelerated toward the ground; faster, faster it goes.
See it catch the light and sprinkle rubies.
See the trail of flighty liquid streaming behind.
See it kiss the ground, and fly into seven hundred and forty-two tinkling pieces.
by ~Sesquipedaliaphile
Random Favourites
Ever April There is still a mumbled pang in my chest whenever the rains fall... I'll hug the blanket to my bare legs, staring at the dark paneling, unflinching whenever a flash of white bleaches the room- just an instant. The drapes of fabric held close to my face smell of jasmine and faint cologne, brown sugar and twining fingers... and I can feel the absence beside me, the presence of something that should have been there, but evaporated instead. And when the Pouring behind the glass panes leaves siren secrets in my ear, I crave the inhumane; I need something to hold my swimming heart in place. I need an island. I need drEver April
by ~ArcaneAutumn
Writer's BlockI become so frustrated When I force myself to write Without thinking out the words between each space... Because I have to wrench the letters Drop By dropWriter's Block
And it isn't worth my swollen migraines The wrinkled stories tell flawed fables
Why must it be so mindnumbing To seek Inspiration's company Instead of waiting for him to Arrive whenever he wants?
He is consumed by his wanderlust And I never know of his return Until he lights fireworks in my head
If my consciousness is so busy With brooding angst and nightmares It
by ~ArcaneAutumn
Isaac and the Avens
MortifiedDevious Info
- Website: http://immortaldude.proboards89.com/
- Email: garashar@hotmail.com
- AIM: emoaang
- MSN: garashar@hotmail.com
- Yahoo: AngelicPsychosis
deviantID
| Oops. I need to keep friends longer... |
deviantART Community Board
Comments
Site Map
©2009 deviantART. All rights reserved
--
>>In Memoriam: Ipati Eirwyn<<
--
"If you think about it, I'm the victim here."
"How?"
"I didn't get what I wanted."
--
This will seriously mess with you at first glance... : [link]
--
"If you think about it, I'm the victim here."
"How?"
"I didn't get what I wanted."
--
This will seriously mess with you at first glance... : [link]
--
... said the flying satanist, eating a piece of jello.
--
"If you think about it, I'm the victim here."
"How?"
"I didn't get what I wanted."
--
... said the flying satanist, eating a piece of jello.
Previous Page12345...Next Page