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Silent Snow

Journal Entry: Fri Feb 27, 2015, 5:03 PM
Sunday DrivesSunday Drives
Thinking back as a child
Rides up North
A favorite family trip
Never seemed long.
Stops at the general store
Penny candy
Jars lined up against the wall,
Where did they all go?
The apple stand,
Biting into a nice crisp apple
The smell of Macintosh,
All the way to the bottom
Of the core
Take the rest home for later.
With the ones you love, Family
All in one Day
If only we could go back
Take a trip in time
And live it all again
Perfect memories
On a Sunday afternoon.
some decemberscrisp ember darling,
i could witness
your furl
from this instant
until time's breath
ceases
you are the pieces
of autumn
that spin lithe
and worship the fall,
kiss gravity
delicate and call out
to winter with
wisping voice
you are a visiting love
that churns hoarse futures
into clear harmonies
and more
you are inscribed
in spirals along the length
of my tibia
and when it rains
you fill the grooves
to perfection
remember starling,
your lines
keep my eyelids
open
zombie winterYou hung around my rooftop in the fall,
wailing like a Celtic banshee
but back then, I didn't believe in any of
those papyrus tales of horror
made for naive children, scared
under the covers as their parents were
attacked outside by wolves.
But for me, it really did happen..
Townspeople broke the latch on our door,
stormed through our house .
Dear Mama only had a few seconds to
get us out, through a smashed window;
my brother and I ran into the forest,
waiting for our father but he never
came to guide us, our mother never kissed us goodbye.
Oh you think you can do this;
be the shadow messenger in the clear,
blame the goblins in the caves,
the creatures and zombies in the forests?
Well, you can't; you can't fake innocence,
Lady Death, believe me, I've  tried.
But you can't shut out the world forever.
And you underestimated our blood;
my brother and I are coming back
for our family legacy, Turkish copper spilled
all over the cottage pine floorboards.
Everything is cold, but he remin
Sunday AfternoonThe icicle melts
to a javelin point
as ash lengthens along
the end of her cigarette
as snow navigates
the patio cracks.
Her hair catches
as his throat tangles air
Their forms trap guilt
in their skewe-d bones
the way their posture
betrays dishonor.
Fingers wrap
like a chain link fence
around the purse handle
and the yellow drapes part--
ill-painted church doors.
Between January
and infidelity,
she is caught between
two brands of cold.
The curtains can not restAs you meander
through the back stitches
of the high tables
-academics still assuming
every one plastered into the seats
is a wrighter of plays-
echoes of potential accidents
screech
in the night
-tires leave their fears and shivers
most blackbloodily-
they take seconds to reach my shivering window
-too late they arrive,
as the inane giggleshows
intrude from the neighbouring dormitore-
and sob their tragedy
augmented by the hauntings
of rains hours past.
The next week´s wheelings await none:
you hope the locks metalic
order will keep the talkdallying
away from your and your soldiering
thrugh this new years pensum
you hope thw window, with its pastel
eyelids sleeping the night
will relax and stretch purringly
what is left of your weekend
outside you must hear the hail
salute it
farewell -not!- the boredom
on the other side of your room
trust the window lulled
by the city´s bubbly speeches
of rain
coming from the night.

Broken dreams by EuseliaEvil Arises by theholyand2owlsEchoes of the Past by mj-magicSolitudo by Softyrider62Fishka by MrSmi5tt
glass bones and paper skinShe had always been a smidgen short
of something whole and he was never
broken to begin with.
Except sometimes they sort of were
entirely, irreparably, miserably, broken.
Where are you going?
Where are you going, where I can't follow?
And that, she finds for all of her brilliance and prodigal logic,
is something she couldn't answer.
It sort of scares her, a little,
when she thinks about it at night.
Especially when there's no one to see her,
and the only thing that touches her
is the inky darkness of her room.
Other things scare her too.
The thought of her name sprawled across a grave,
broken beyond repair. Yet, he is her line to humanity;
His smiles are her air.
He is all essence.
Yet, he bothers her in a way she didn't know
she could be bothered. They were oil and water;
open but couldn't fit.
She wonders if that's how he felt about it.
He still is everything, prodding at her mind.
He will always be everything.
Because he reminds her.
He reminds her of who she was before she was
Abyssinia, HenryHallowed Father, Korea has been unkind.
A split in the good, clean earth turns the other children into ghosts,
wailing in an agony over a past that never was.
Can you still requisition aid when it rains?
Come in, Hallowed Father.
Can you read me from the bottom of that western sea due east?
Theory of ChaosThere is
a quantum of cruelty
in the way your feet
touch the ground,
not wanting to be heard
even though I asked
to please wake me up,
to please let me know
if you are leaving.
There is
a quantum of cruelty
in the way your lips
pronounce a new name
where mine once belonged
even though I'd hoped
a broken heart
would not break
another.
I feel
a quantum of anger
when I try to believe
you never intended
to cut so deep
even though I knew
if you were a butterfly
I could only be waiting
for the hurricane.
You will see
a quantum of sorrow
in the fire pit of my iris,
when you’ll dare to look closer
at your wonderful disaster
even though I’m watching you
walking away with my smile,
I cannot bring myself to say
goodbye.
Erasing Anxiety is Hard on the Heart (TW: Abuse)Move on and breathe in.
Change your number, change your email,
change your name if you're brave enough
because he is master at wielding his words
when you can't hear, because he knows
just what to say to tear you down, because
threats are more effective when you can't
put them to a face.
Erase the texts, erase the voice mails,
erase all the good because it wasn't real, remember?
Hospital reeked of desperation,
late night broken by squeaking shoes
and ticking clocks--and him, first time in years,
clinging to you like a man possessed or possessing,
airlungsthroat tight but smiling through it.
When you get home, go straight to bed--
don't look him up, don't look him up, don't look him up.
It's a whirlwind breaking through you.
It's he shows you a side you've never seen,
vulnerable tears tearing like claws
when in the process of helping him move,
a board, caught in high winds on the highway,
rips from the truck and almost 
hits the car you're following behind in.
He spends the ni
look at the mirror and fall in love at first sightgive yourself a flower
and wear your favorite
sweater
sit in a nice, quiet
little coffee shop
and meet yourself
with that first sip
of warmth
and a smile.
in the afternoon,
walk to the nearest park
and hold your hands
together
as if in a prayer
like a lover's dream,
be sweet to yourself
for once.
let the kid with the waffle cone
and his mother
stare at you for 45 seconds
while you feed the birds
hang those insecurities
by the door
or tuck them away
somewhere
in your cabinets
or drawers-
just take them off
today,
pick a hot red dress
and buy yourself
a drink for two
tonight,
mirror at one end
of the table
and your love
at the other.

Goldilocks by nivekyCommission: Fairy by LimboplusRhiannan by nine9nine9Every rose by J-u-d-a-sScrew the rules I have money! by Indiron
Hidden SpacesThe things we see in hidden spaces
Signs of life with their bidden traces
And we love in light of our cradled faces
Unwind me
Remind me...
Touch of skin and warm breath
Each movement colliding
Queen for a day by Miss-deviantEVenice by deorollerWatchman by EuseliaThe call by aninur
the devil is in the detailsI
as i settle to read Foglia’s latest,
with a hot mug and mamy’s blanket;
the charm of dust specks dancing in a sunray
makes me pause and smile.
II
what makes us miss someone
is not their absence, nor
the length of time between
meetings - it is turning to share
the little things and
finding their space
empty.
III
i miss you.
Sophie, january 2014
slow numbersDaffodils and Black-eyed Susans laugh in the breeze
A melody of glorious insanity
That is calm
Utterly calm
And so I lie awake sleeping
It's hard to remember now
When numbers ran faster than the sun
Their dimensions blurring from the great speed
Accelerating through sound they approached...
Seven was streaking by
His sunfaded yellow paint bubbled and cracked
From the searing heat
Red eight was highballing like a Texas cyclone
His rivets wept tears of rusty salt
From the slicing pain
Green nine came rolling in deep shadow
Seeming to escape the light in his haste
A hollow moan trailed after him
Reeking of desperation
Violet four shone like the stars of heaven
His rakish angles knifing through the July afternoon
He smiled as he passed, and I shivered in his wake
Orange two stumbled at a lonely bend in the road
Where the poplars sang lullabies with nightingales
As two went down, he began to smoke, grinding into the road
Black five was unlucky that day, caught up in the catastrophe
The worl
Whisper to the windpit-er, pit-er, pit-er, pat
The sound of wind on panes of glass;
a wild thing, rattling...
...but is this a cage, or shelter?...
Picks up higher,
calling louder...
...and is this a maze, or a path?...
If you listen closely,
you'll find answers
in the silence;
the inhalation
of the earth
that lets the wild wind
howl freely...
origination of sexagesimalismSumerian senses devised divisions - but
did they decide This Number - 666 -
of the Beast?
nope.
however, more timely numbers, they Did decide.
rename Sumer.
it's Mesopotamia.
now call it Iraq.
it remains a hard place.
if something becomes less so,
we say, "it's about time".
when referring to Sumer, it actually is -
about time.
llp - dA - feb2015
Installation PieceIron thorns push through skin, I’m part of an installation piece
Flesh and bone, metal and stone, electronics
Wheeled in on a cot, phones for eyes
That never ring
But I see how they look at me; (they’re thinking)
How lonely it must be to slowly die alone
They smile anyway, good at faking it
After all, it’s their job
One day the artist will be able to push a button, and I’ll spin
My speaker-mouth will sing about snow
Only one more push allowed
And I’ll spin into space
My last human thought will not be of you, but of us, together
Sitting in the cold morning, coffee and cigarettes
Back before they began assembling us
One at a time
for departure

Secret place by ElenaDudinaHybrid machine by MirellaSantanaVortice Del Nulla by LenteScuraMonarch butterfly by KlaraDrielleEarly morning in the Sangre de Cristos by EmmaSloane
Sailor JackSailor Jack
-------------
Sailor Jack is watching  
waiting  
leaning up against the wall  
Lean and strong and slim  
and tight  
at the downtown bar  
Waiting for you...  
if you're strong enough  
if you're brave enough  
to dive in  
to plunge  
in the Sea of Possibility  
Lancelot Price 2015 February 21
L E T H A R G Y... by chryssalisLil Tiger by ChiantyVexSnow by CinnamoncandyFar Away... by tndrhrtd37
For You To Fall Intothese words
are less poetry
than a query, as to
whether or not
the words of our
past and future ghosts
can still resonate
through the hull of time
that we haunt now
and my inner ghost
still trembles, when
a date or memory
catches up, when
tremor distorts and
breaks your breath
before you can finish
your sentence
and i soften a place
in myself, for you
to fall into
a place where god
not only exists
but drives, heals
and holds onto
that boy we lost
because i know
we're all as smooth
and traveled
as the riverbed
rocks we are
that our hope and love
are only a few
found and held
seconds of air
in the cold quantum vacuum
of the chaos stream
because i know
how wonderfully found
i am, bound
to the simple sadness
and weight
of love's humble mineral
our truest luxury
has never been free
but costs everything
we’ve ever been
or ever will be
Death Rides A HarleyHer real name was Jade, but her name tag said Snow White. All the girls in the bar had a nickname instead of their real name on their name tags. She'd gotten hers the day she showed up to fill out an application. The massive day shift bouncer, Bruce had yelled, "Oh, look who's here, Snow White." And it stuck. It fit her well. Jade had been blessed with an over-abundance of black hair, creamy pale skin and flashing brown eyes. Though privately she chafed at the stupid nickname, it did work. And the clientele seemed to like it.
She was working behind the bar, leaned over to try to catch what the man in front of her was saying when the door burst open. From where she stood, she couldn't see anything other than bright, blinding light. It was almost as if the wind had blown the heavy door open, because she couldn't see anyone for a minute. The man at the bar hardly missed a beat telling her another inane story that she smiled and murmured through as if she didn't have a brain in her head, a
Petrified (poem-fractal-pong 4)At some point,
your wave has been petrified,
you simulate change without moving.
Progress
is the wave you break.
This stone
won't move without you.
Flottantlet me paint the tableau
my mind has made for you:
a silken sheet
on a modest gravestone
a hummingbird flits
from blossom to blossom
ruddy cheeks at
a casual occasion
a guarded smile
after a rude imposition
Night, lovingThe fire is warm
The beer is cold
and this is Texas
I cannot remember all the words
    to the sad coyote song
    drifting over the far ridge
but I can sing along
    with the sandhill chorus - 
    sky dark with crane wings
    and bright with stars.
Sparks soar up like
    bright ghost eyes
    of those who are not here tonight
    stories flitting back and forth
    as we laugh
    and remember

Tiny Worlds by MaryKatherineSFairyPlace by EuseliaEmbrace Her Fear - Claustrophobia by MonochromaticARTBaloo by crilleb50Warkworth Castle by newcastlemale
Star Children"I have heard rumors through the wind," said the circus star.  "The general has the North Star."
"That's impossible.  No one's been able to find her since the fall."
"Oh, yes, they have  The general has her.  And plans to keep her."
to trust again.You are not the solitude crested prairie you let on to be -
instead, you are restlessness
dancing in the sea bed,
storms that come to a rest
on a tampered shoreline.
You reflect sunshine against circumstance,
finding ways to breach the clouds,
escaping their trying hold.
I appreciate your seasons,
sense an understanding;
a belief of permanence –
a gentle tide that lulls,
softens to soothe edges,
encourages urchins and shells
generally unnoticed –
I will stay.
What I remember of Fall, on the mountain(i)
not
linen
sheets
or folds of opaque ice
a trill chorus
of robins at dawn
not stacked wood -
unfamiliar hunger.
not fresh splinters or
seldom seen wool.
I do not bring to mind blue skin
strangled by laces
or the futile windows
of the old cabin.
nor the feel of
the breath
of kingdoms;
when new things arrive
they seldom choose
winter
not
a cracked axe handle - last years flint
gone to rust.
silence – stillness.
(ii)
signals of life;
distant campfire smoke
small motions of
coats through pines
gunshot of a falling
oak branch
a new path to the road.
Queen of 55th Street EastI feel like I’m getting back into the state I was when I was little
I’m rediscovering my love for many things
Like ancient Egypt, and Space, and the color pink
And jewelry, and drawing/painting for my own self’s sake
But this childhood is better
Because I am my own
And I don’t have to worry about my house deteriorating around me
Or my voice being lost and mutated into a string of “sorry”s
I don’t have to worry about a religion I trusted crushing me
Or my identity being shoved down for the sake of others’ edification
Because I know now to do my darnedest to avoid those things
So when I feel the residual effects from those past hardships
I remember- “Dear Self, Don’t Ever Let This Happen Again!”
And as long as I listen
I can live as the Queen of 55th Street East
I let the Princess of Selby Avenue get beaten out of me
So I know now to do all I can to keep my new royal title
Because I absolutely deserve it
we burn stubborn oil, old as stonesam I transcending, am I trending
toward the scorched west
to the literal you, to the going guilt
this excess weight I've carried, my wild-haired suffragette
I've come near and nearly dear
and you are still patient, re-counting your dimensions
measuring flaws in the fabric I have written
lacing them in lingered notes
for me to flutter by unyielding, unchanged

Trusty And True by BrightStar2*solitude* by WelshAngelArtBright Forest by maiarcitaSummer Gifts by inObrASCold Breath by xeena-dragonkizz

  • Mood: Joy
  • Listening to: The Cure

deviantID

Scarlettletters
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

Shoutbox

xlntwtch:iconxlntwtch:
THANKS FOR THE FAVE AND YOUR SUPPORT! :rose:
Sat Apr 11, 2015, 1:41 PM
rlkirkland:iconrlkirkland:
:wave: ... :heart:
Mon Mar 30, 2015, 5:02 AM
scarletwave:iconscarletwave:
Thank you for the fave, Brandon... was a first. I feel honoured. : )
Sun Mar 29, 2015, 5:45 PM
murasakiriyu:iconmurasakiriyu:
Thank you so much for the :+fav: Truly appreciated! :)
Mon Mar 23, 2015, 7:55 AM
xlntwtch:iconxlntwtch:
Thanks for the :+fav:
Sun Mar 22, 2015, 11:39 AM
EmmaSloane:iconemmasloane:
Thanks for the favorite!
Thu Feb 19, 2015, 5:26 AM
TheDreamsOfTheAges:iconthedreamsoftheages:
Thank you for the watch. :)
Wed Feb 4, 2015, 12:41 AM
rlkirkland:iconrlkirkland:
:wave: --- :heart:
Thu Jan 15, 2015, 2:36 PM
ImmortalityOfEmoPoet:iconimmortalityofemopoet:
Wohoo!!
Thu Dec 4, 2014, 2:32 AM
EligoDesign:iconeligodesign:
thank you so much for the fave
Tue Nov 18, 2014, 6:02 AM
Nobody

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:iconcinnamoncandy:
Cinnamoncandy Featured By Owner 4 hours ago  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the fav! :heart:
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:iconaninur:
aninur Featured By Owner 9 hours ago  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for the fav :TipOfTheHat: 
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:icondamina:
damina Featured By Owner 2 days ago  Professional Writer
Thank you for faving my poem :)
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:iconwikita:
Wikita Featured By Owner 3 days ago  Student General Artist
Thanks for favoriting! <3
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UnreliableRuth Featured By Owner 5 days ago
Thank you for the fave :)
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:iconohanlon:
ohanlon Featured By Owner 6 days ago  Professional Writer
wow there are a lot of people that come here why
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murasakiriyu Featured By Owner Apr 10, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
:iconthankyou1::iconthankyou2: 
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LeaWiggins Featured By Owner Apr 10, 2015
Brendan, I am honored that you faved " A Thing of Beauty" 
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BloodshotInk Featured By Owner Apr 10, 2015
Thanks for the fave :}
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empellina Featured By Owner Apr 9, 2015  New member Hobbyist Photographer
Thank you for faving.
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