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Happy Thanksgiving!

Journal Entry: Mon Nov 24, 2014, 9:08 AM
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I would like to thanks :iconwilliamfdevault: for publishing Caliban
They say this place
is the brothel
of my thoughts -
dirty gods and vacant wombs,
something unclean
left at the top of these stairs,
but forgotten when the world skips a beat
and light crawls its way
to the bottom.
I watch what moves
from the window -
that brave new world -
and know I am piecemeal,
unmade and too rough to the touch,
my kiss an unborn thing.
I sucked from my mother's teat
delicious malcontent
sour as summer nettles
to be my wormwood,
bereft of fine manners
or a back to hang them on.
But all is not as it seems.
I only play the monster
when the crowd demands blood,
for my back breaks
like any other man,
my visage worthy of grace;
and I can feel my thoughts soar
the deft sparks of spring
longing to be uncaged
when beauty comes unbidden
and my sullen hide
shall turn like the worms in June
into something glorious.
in his literary magazine, amomancies. It is full of beautiful words and glorious art. You can check it out here: www.magcloud.com/browse/issue/…

In addition he has nominated my poem Caliban for a Pushcart Prize. I am both honored and humbled. This is the first time I have been nominated.


Blended Bridge by kamathalmightyThe End is Nigh by QuestaviaWind by Elena-NeriumOleanderLa Maschera Digitali by LenteScuraHope by LaurieLefebvre
The Savage Setting SunI stood upon a growling rock
Amidst a rabid sea,
And looked into the shutting eye.
That glared right back at me.
And as I stared into the eye,
This savage setting sun,
I could not help but shed a tear
To see its life was done.
The glint of red upon the waves
Did slowly seem to slip
Behind the gold horizon like
A fleeting funeral ship.
And in a feral funeral chant
The ocean seemed to roar.
I faintly heard the pipe of Pan
That howled upon the shore.
The wind joined in this symphony.
It howled with dancing Pan
And echoed through the hallowed earth
And through the hearts of man.
The innocence of savagery,
Barbaric songs of yore
Like wild Cuhullin cried
And then were heard no more.
The glowing eye was finally shut;
The ship had finally gone
Far, far away into the deep
And silent great beyond.
The waves then ceased their feral chant,
And Pan his flute’s sweet trill;
The wind then ceased it’s mighty howl
And all the earth was still.
I stood amidst this silence and
I beat my throbb
Daddy's GoneSummer
Ice cream, pavement
Melting dreams down the grille
Blue eyes crying, a hug from Mom
Better
But still leaving a sense of loss
No kind words can comfort
Nor ease the pain
Lost love
PrescienceThree — the magic number, thrice
I dreamt of wrack and ruin, death
Apocalypse in fallen stone
Dust and pain in broken breath
I wrote it down, though I knew not
How it would yet affect myself;
The pages full, the book was closed
Unheeded, left upon the shelf
And then my journeys took me north
A mountain city by the sea
Where life and dream came face to face
And cognizance crashed over me
I stood there, struck and horrified
And saw it falling in my head
The waves of earth, the cries of fear — 
I knew the names of all the dead
Like Cassandra, doomed to know
Foretelling dark presentiment
I learned to hate the unasked gift
To know, but never to prevent
Autumn ThrenodyIt is quarter to winter.
This is my elegy to
the paint-chipped steps
and autumn crowns.
To invisible breaths
and paths
across the yard and back.
To summer-lungs
and sweat.
I mourn the loss of Scorpius,
but welcome Orion.
I hang my August words
and trade my voice for frost.
This is the death of back-porch nights,
the barefoot gait,
and birdsong.
every year-long.This year I will not walk
the same steps as last,
for the ground has shifted,
the earth bounced the underbellies
of continents against rough oceans.
The seasons have changed,
Brought forth on whim's will
And I do not look back on what was
For that is not who I will be;
Look forward to the new things
That you aspire to see
The earth has revolved around
the sun to come to this point again,
It has moved, changed, but
has kept true to itself : churning
its magma with bird songs strung taut
against the wind, and it has taught
me that I am ever-changing too.
Her oceans pull me to the moon
And her night skies brought me love;
The stories her mountains whisper
Give me lion's courage,
While her forests tell secrets
About seduction and silence -
How I could have ever been me
Without living through her first,
I know not --
But she is, indeed,
The greatest mentor

The tree house by BimartinsMaybe.... by jesss33Boy Adventurer by JohnPatsakiosLethe by ShinobinakuMary by pholwises
galactic secrets.Lit up
like stars illuminating a galaxy –
I do not need to see your lips
to know you’re grinning.
Blind me –
your eyes are my biggest insecurity –
I cannot read them.
Mirrors fogged in a lovely iridescent hue,
I thought I saw myself,
but I don’t know if you
see me.
Cancer The plane wades 
through cotton corn
seeded by vapour 
trails - these clouds swell
as white tumours
gorged by rain.
Like brain scans,
earthly and ghostly 
on a death canvas 
lit by fluorescent finalities. 
MatchgirlI struck a match and watched it grow
Into an all consuming glow.
Through the window, I discerned
The routes by which the heavens turned,
and as the pyre grew in size
Reaching upward to the skies,
All around stars fell like snow
Into the ragged streets below.
Blue and white, their blinding flame
Whispered things I cannot name.
I saw your soul within the dance.
I saw it in the heavens flung.
Burning like a thousand suns
It fell and melted on my tongue.
But now my words are numb and cold.
What won't be heard can not be told.
In the black between the stars,
Is that the place that must be ours?
where love once burned, it frozen, dies
and only vacuum now survives.  
i will not tolerate anything but love from youI left lithe lilies
on your porch step,
petals open, smooth
with the sun's caress.
You left me frost flowers.
icy stems cracking with
the slightest touch.
'But they are beautiful,'
you pleaded as I poured
water onto them, melting
their wintry exterior.
'They are, but I despise
winter because you always
leave me icebound.'
Gazelle-eyesA crown of thorns, I am not a prince anymore.
Without you, I'm nothing but an ink blot on a page;
a paper-chain secret, lost in the Athens breeze;
cool, sea-stained, grass-clipped, all-around
nursery rhyme-made and scented with flower decay.
You stand there; a ghost in my periphery, just
frozen in place, your feet digging into the after-life sand.
And I don't think it's fair that people walk by me all day,
chatting amicably like you're not dead.
Well, they can have your mother's wedding vase,
smashed against the wall, shattering
in a million Chinese blue and silver dreams.
She was a princess, illegitimate and scorned.
You weren't recognized, boy,
as the courtier that you were.
People said you didn't belong
in my father's palace, in his
corridors of sultan gold and
peasant blood; spilled everywhere,
grotesque paintings on the walls,
tales of war and suffering;
children waking up without
their mothers to comfort them,
wipe their December tears and
sing goddess spring lullabies.
You and I

Sonshire Clock Tower by timberkingLe Duc sans Coeur : concept art 2 by NatMonneyLotus Sunrise by farboartBaroque Steampunk by Sabine62Freyja 2 by Katarina-Zirine
In Climbing Outour broken toys
churn the sand
but there's no traction
in the hourglass
our poles, buckets
and soft-edged shovels
in climbing out
dig us deeper
into the dark
unwelcome below
into the irony of us
swimming on land
treading these tiny
marbles of time
until this beach
is a desert
and fevered bones
at the bottom
stir at our heels
for even the briefest
flash of light
we're both the dead
and living things
fallen from the sky
washed up on the shore
and stirring the bottom
we're recycled
funneled, re-birthed
from one side
of the hourglass
to the other
i've lost
my sense of up
and tread dry water
the whole way down
Static After the Heart-Song--C.Radio static,
there are bats in your beats
winging staccato 
through screaming speakers
silently. It's hard,
on Acousticmountain,
to break yourself free
from head dance, from blood
itself. Sing a dance. Tune the mouth.
I watched words dangle off the vacant lips
of you, post-heart. Finish language now
or hold your pause forever.
Soprano vibrato,
a solo of wings across fluted wind
and you crescendo,
muffling the mechanical whir
of whizzing, wheezing white noise.
This plague's a symphony.
Bite love off Adam's stalk.
Our words died so long ago
black doves punctured holes into our trachea 
and called it flute. It's noise in the past,
they say,
It's resonating with another's tongue at the start
of Doppler.

I listen with ears,
with cracked shells making
the sound of whales wounded
as they tell the gospel
so quietly. Welcome to Envy Beach.
Take your drum sticks
and hit the golden oldies road, doll--
the milk you knocked back at dinner
left phlegm congealing the wou
Defying the omenFaith is both an honor and a curse
as your fist rests upon my brow,
hoping it won't lessen this fever
and the portents of scarab oracles
that have you trading in a
life of always just one more day
for an urn of emblazoned frescoes
with processions of maids and of bulls
filled with my ashes, bright as bone.
LevitationI know I am a switch,
Light and dark on a lever -
A two state circuit wondering
About the trigger.
KaliThe three crows cawed
with ruffled feathers
and bodies decayed - black hearts beating
beneath a cage of bones.
In a world of men and monsters
I was lost looking for you;
a forgotten bride in virginal black
caught between amnesia and love.
Wildflowers grew in the ashes of your absence.
I store myself beneath its roots -
dark, motionless
and ready for you to remember me again.

Geisha by XxFTIxXSanguinare by LenteScuraSolitude of an Angel by BrookeGilletteA Bed of Red by HtBlackGhost Alley by maiarcita
i saw, and i learnedthere are several ways to voice this
but the geometry of a bridge. thrashing
crystalline fish. it is a case
of damaged magnetism they say
it is a dark maze they say and someone will greet you at the entrance
now, she gestures, watch me unravel
-
there is a sense of napalm in the third lane. a lining
of damp thread, animal saliva.
the woman leans on the tailgate, exhausted.
what are grey curds? skin coming off
                or caked mud
as a car splashes her standing
motionless. the revolving doors
         of her arms, crossed over chest, as the wire is cut.
the girl
     tumbles into the back of the truck.
        you were the water, snake and corner,
                   watchful with the wariness of all things orphaned.
in the shadow of the aircraft
all colours are muted.
now which wire is red?
this frequency is resonant:
a hard labour
MenaceMirror mirror on my tower's wall
Why didn't you strangle me
When I started to fall?
Why not pull and twist my hand
Till my wrist becomes a circle so red,
Tear the scabs
Let me bleed lead?
Mirror mirror
When will I learn
That what I see within you
Reflects who I am?
With wings made of fire
Hot like fever from the sun of summer,
Sharp beak sick of liver
And a heart...
Ripe passionfruit
Overflowing
With vibrant
Crimson dreams
That grow every day,
Pillars of my strength
Soon to transcend
This sleeping realm
Silk MountainIf it means anything to you, a girl named Shaley lived her life back when magic did too. Most would claim she’d been born of it, due to the color of her eyes and the quite supernatural feeling the heart did feel at the sight of her smile. Her eyes were a nebulous mix of luminous browns.
It was said that God had locked the Universe in place with a similar topaz. That’s what the priests and foreseers told the traveler before he left. They said “Go to the Hill of Violet, blasphemer.”
The traveler was not quite so sure about a mythical creature setting a rock into space like a piece of quaint jewelry, but if this God fellow knew where Shaley had gone, the traveler was all ears.
“We cannot presume to understand His necessity for a boy like you,” the shriveled woman rasped, eyeing the traveler head-to-toe, “but in His will, there can be no doubt.”
The woman reluctantly pressed a small satchel into the traveler’s grip, looking him in the e
The Merchant, The Priest and and Poetmore than words.
the magic.  tragic hopes.
the moments we barter.
merchants in the temple
where the priest sadly
shakes his head.
the barter economy
of love and passion.
copper for silver.
silver for gold.
gold for blood and fire.
desire.
ancient runes.
ancient tunes.
translated with light
that dances
barefoot.
the soft pad of feet
on cool stone
when the warm bed
makes a fine altar
for sacrifices.
the clarity of charity
in the ecclesiastical sense
where love requires
nothing.
but hopes for
everything.
William F. DeVault.  all rights reserved.
Frozen in the Moment by Anophior
Autumn Solace by PrincessMagicalMelancholy by mippieArtWork in progress by RaipunMountainscape by IvanVladikBrown Bereginya by digimagicnb
Shoot that cinema with a syringeA vast, undiluted Sunday,
a Sunday that is a Sunday,
a Sunday for you,
everyone else having their own Sundays,
using them,
not using them,
misusing them-even-
And still
You must
onward your fixation
of cheerfully
throwing away your money
(your lunches, to be preciser)
just for two hours
we will say farewell
to an entire week
of eating soothingly
calming our underribbed beasts.
But no,
you will have,
because you always must,
your Sunday high.
No matter if you must shoot down
everybody else´s
Fingerpainting Bloodso tired
to watch the absurd veneration
of violence as a conditioning tool
for a collective mindset
so poor
to swallow the reports
covering warfare everywhere
from merely the aggressor’s view
so wretched
to feel those pervasive tendrils
of conditioning slither through the outskirts
of oblivious lives
– huddled masses, safe and distracted, cheer on the games
the innocent ones
ignored by omission and indifference
playing in our fingerpainted puddles
of
fear
displacement
hunger
disease
death
where is this shiny lamp meant to guide us to the golden door?
© hadasaugh 2014
Rest of the King by KlaraDrielleFerocity by AmpataAutumn Leaf Fae by TinaLouiseUk
IDUN by xeena-dragonkizzA Walk in the Woods 3 by JCCJ756Song or Suicide by mi-eterna-primaveraFlorecitas por un OVNI by Dorothy-of-OzConnected by ralfw666
BelovedThe aegis shielding heaven from earth gives way –
you float down like a feather, fleshly plucked
from the wings of a dove,
the sweetest curves and effervescent beauty
of your mouth remind me of home.
Darling love, the harmony of touch is
everlasting – whenever I
star gaze into your eyes, with wanderlust,
and the crust of this gentle mother
can no longer proclaim me.
Just as she could not have held you from the
moment He breathed life into your halcyon bones,
while caught between a ballad and a poem.
The warmth of winter
would align their hearts again,
two souls united together in twilight –
surely nirvana has always meant to define
the quietest moments spent with you where no
syllables need be uttered, no furtive signs.
A reunion, my beloved – to
simply feel the grace of your hands laced in mine,
as we reach the ultimate enlightenment in
the seraglio of each other's blinks, thumps,
and sighs – these are my treasures divine.
TempleBlades of grass
brush the bottoms
of tanned feet, the cloth
of orange robes.
The wrinkles in the hem
transform an instant
into an hour
as thistles whistle windswept past
deaf ears and hunched backs,
pursed lips, closed eyes that open
to the soul.
Calm
ripples out from the center
in a golden, misty halo that echoes,
falling away like waves on a shore,
swelling loud and crashing all at once
into thin sheets.
The waves move up
towards wrinkled feet
where mist brushes the brows
of the brothers in orange
and dissolves like the silent
ohm of breathing,
deep and steady, up
to the open temple walls
and far into the trees.
In this, the longest summer softly, softly I sleep
while the day goes ‘round the sun,
while the night goes ‘round the moon.   
Though I’ve not visited the stars in an eternity
they watch over me
saying, “Take your reward. 
 
Never mind what might have been.   
And those who want a piece of you,
finding pleasure in causing chaos,   
they hate what is strong in spirit. 
They only harm themselves
sullying the words dribbling from their mouths.” 
 
Now, even the cricket is hushed. 
This gentle summer
breezing through the open windows
is a gift hoped for and unexpected.   
A temporary reprieve,
lasting only as long as the drugs remain unquestionable. 
 
 
 
©  L. L. Kelly 2014 
A Glimpse of GallowsRather than listening to my history professor,
I sit in the plush padding,
under glaring fluorescent fallacy,
and think of the dying trees
—in my front yard; the black spots
first appearing like blisters, boils, or polka-dot plague.
As my grandfather’s skin, colored carcinogen.
I’m thinking of the thunk—axe on tree trunk.
Fields of DeathShadows transverse the clouded planes,
A spectral 'lumination hazing through
To touch the livid irises in blue.
Deaf in glory, cochleas flow
With the shake of bombshells and the tremor of voice.
In frost-hewn grass, the feet crush death,
The silence of gas turning green the trench.
Boots gaze out from dead men's fells,
And barbs of steel hold bloody pain.
Flashes and booms, the crash of lead;
The boys give way 'neath fire's spread.

Tech-n-color Dream_05 by caddmanNovember by mi-eterna-primaveraLe Cabinet de Curiosites - Sepia Morphine by AlexandraVBachon time by BelcyrPiotrLeopard Skinned Tortoise - Face of Determination by LivingWild

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Brendan
Artist | Professional | Literature
United States
Current Residence: Cape Hatteras and New York
Favourite genre of music: All of it
Favourite style of art: All of it
Favourite cartoon character: Bill the Cat, Oor Wullie, Snoopy
Personal Quote: They're taking them out in little green bottles again, and they all look like you.
Interests

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EligoDesign:iconeligodesign:
thank you so much for the fave
Tue Nov 18, 2014, 6:02 AM
xlntwtch:iconxlntwtch:
Thanks for the :+fav: for 'About the Blues'
Thu Oct 30, 2014, 8:44 AM
Alexpintor:iconalexpintor:
gracias por el watch
Wed Oct 29, 2014, 8:23 AM
Alexpintor:iconalexpintor:
gracias poe el fav :)
Wed Oct 29, 2014, 8:23 AM
eqlrytes:iconeqlrytes:
Thank you for faving my 'Hot Mess'. :)
Tue Oct 28, 2014, 10:23 AM
Blacksand459:iconblacksand459:
Just wanted to say a BIG THANKS for collecting and featuring my poems!!!! B-)
Sat Oct 25, 2014, 8:30 PM
xlntwtch:iconxlntwtch:
:pumpkin:
Wed Oct 22, 2014, 9:41 PM
copper9lives:iconcopper9lives:
Darling, thank you SO MUCH for your donation of points!!! Love you! :heart::love:
Mon Oct 20, 2014, 6:57 PM
xlntwtch:iconxlntwtch:
:la:
Thu Oct 16, 2014, 7:38 PM
nofxmike06:iconnofxmike06:
Thank you for your support!
Wed Oct 15, 2014, 1:02 PM
Nobody

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:iconlancelotprice:
LancelotPrice Featured By Owner 2 hours ago
Thanks, Brendan, for faving 'burnin' down'.
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:iconbark:
Bark Featured By Owner 1 day ago  Professional Writer
Thank you!
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:iconbeautifuladmiration:
BeautifulAdmiration Featured By Owner 1 day ago  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks again for all the faves! :)
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:iconnecropoetus:
necropoetus Featured By Owner 1 day ago  New member
Thankies bunches for the fav, I appreciate it very much Hug Heart 
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:iconklaradrielle:
KlaraDrielle Featured By Owner 1 day ago  Hobbyist Photographer
Thank you for your support Brendan! :blowkiss:
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:iconpjenz:
pjenz Featured By Owner 2 days ago  Hobbyist Digital Artist

thank you so very much for the faves, very much appreciated :iconrbheartplz::iconballoondogplz:

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:iconralfw666:
ralfw666 Featured By Owner 2 days ago   Digital Artist
Thank you for your support my friend! =D
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:iconhadasaugh:
hadasaugh Featured By Owner 2 days ago  Professional General Artist
Brendan - thanks for the feature of my poem.
Have a filling T-day!
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:icontinalouiseuk:
TinaLouiseUk Featured By Owner 2 days ago  Hobbyist General Artist
Ty by TinaLouiseUk
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:iconoviedomedina:
oviedomedina Featured By Owner 2 days ago
Thank you for the favorite!
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