|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
SkinI like your skin visceral,
dirty with meaning -
a rampant offering
to the night.
I want your lips stuttering,
sounds feral and damp -
cleaving to my chest.
Just peel me, angel -
let those tender wings
bruise these bones
and send me
She felt no enchantment there
the bony parts of men
left to tangle in the air
For she will haunt you
in the worst way possible -
through skin and blood
and malformed dreams
through all the stories
from her mother's tongue,
She will hide and wait
for morning to come crawling
for August's harshest breath
left beating in your breast
She will be your crippled arms
your womb left
underneath her window
the heart she could eat
whole and beating on a plate
your protests a cold dinner
left waiting at her door.
Waiting for a coach
that never came,
a ball gown
out of sackloth;
are not dependable
are best left
to their own devices.
Midnight was never a friend,
and under that suit
he is the same as any other
Snow WhiteSeven more mouths to feed
(For this you left
your father's house?),
shoes piled by the door
and grimy rucksacks
full of coal.
(He promised you a diamond)
They keep you on your toes
with their uncombed hair
and their untrimmed beards
and appetites like young bulls.
That dress of yours
has seen better days
and your hands
are worn out -
bloodied starlings in your pockets.
So you cook and clean
and wait by the window
each morning for them to leave,
polishing your apples
and dream of what the huntsman
is hiding in his box.
CheatsThe light makes cheats
of us both,
so we change clothes
in the greedy dark
or thinking twice.
We do not touch,
our skin afraid to lose
or breathe too close.
We pass in the street
but do not acknowledge
in the glare of taxi cabs
or the stiff pull of elevators.
We do not rub elbows
or let our shoulder blades
But I would know you
anywhere - any place
the sun is uneasy
and the skin of us
or strangers are told
in another direction.
They say the last rose
is low born -
a slow moving blossom
that bears a crooked stem.
Pluck it carefully,
to raise the dull dusk
of your dress;
flush it pale and perfect
along your thighs.
You move through the trees
like pelerines at the fair,
carrying it in your hand
the adieu of petals
already inscribed -
to score the thorns
or to leave it behind
for the one
who called you sweetheart.
EggsYou didn't eat
all my sins
that last night
you were in the city.
You said the taste
what you remembered -
no herbs or rocket
or strong black
fell from my bones -
a roast of haunch,
delicate as almonds.
You thought it would be
the spoiled yellow
and just enough
to keep you
WinterA dream of silver coins and gossamer
of frankincense and sacred myrrh
tugging, gently tugging at the coverlet
the draperies drawn,
the candles lit.
Winter's wizened face and beard sent packing
by the blazing willow log
a'crackling, gently crackling in the fireplace
the shivered wind
leads on apace
These dreams to warm us lingering like a balm,
and cider mulled with cardamom
bubbling, gently bubbling in a bowl
blots out the wind
and shuns the cold.
HungryI arrive hungry -
like last night's wine,
my mouth full of you.
Dinner is a dying art you say,
tucking a napkin
over my lap.
First course -
something you feed me
with your hands
poised in flight.
Main course -
I wear a blindfold;
you have a spoon
between your lips,
daring me to bite.
collected in a cup.
I can taste
the morsel of your skin
just a tease
upon my tongue
SchoolIt’s like I’m trapped within a cage
The synchronized turning of every page
Being forced to stand on a stage
These people all fill me with rage
“I could easily destroy this place
To find me they would have to chase
I could turn the walls into rubble-”
OH SH-! They heard me! Now I’m in trouble!
The class writing about a book we read
As another part of my soul drops dead
But I’m too distracted by the clocks tick
“Mum I can’t go today, I’m sick…
Paradigm ShiftEmerging flash of starlight pap
between sunset and ocean cap
colliding spang into my eyes
for once to have me realize
not everything becomes a song,
and I shall sleep before too long.
Silver ChameleonSilver Chameleon
blame it on ink stained love letters,
where lies are the truth
and your eyes are wide shut
because real eyes realize real lies.
hesitation in loops and dots,
nestled in a sea of ripples and rocks
the tide is coming in faster and faster.
and you are constrained to the wave.
hurled about in tumultuous tides
with no choice but to cling to the mast
but no matter how long you hold on for dear life,
you're simply a deer that was seized in headlights.
an enchanting treacherous lecherous lover
with a silver coated tongue
you try to hide in your walls that are colored white.
but you are far from a chameleon.
a spider can weave their web,
but only the unsuspecting will fall
InfernoAlone she stands in twisted fire,
Below the crimson flames.
A tangled mess of tortured turmoil
With a bitter taste of blame.
Hug her and she'll warm your heart,
Before she burns it all apart.
A lonely soul on a path of grey
You can tell she's been,
Where the ashes all lay.
Dressed in rags of ash and fire
Atop her thrown of stone.
A lonely child screams on fire,
But they left her all alone.
she hates the world
She'll make them pay,
And burn it to the ground someday.
So I leave her there,
And there she'll stay.
I hope the hurt may go away.
A girl who played with fire.
A flame without a friend
She gave into desire,
It got her in the end.
Broken WingsI am a flightless bird.
My wings are broken,
And my vision is blurred.
The wind has not yet spoken.
I am left in silence.
I wobble has I try to walk.
My wings drag behind me.
It’s difficult for me to talk;
There is no way for me to plea.
I am alone in agony
I obtain broken wings
From the abuse I was given
By the treacherous kings,
Who already had my life written —
I am betrayed by love
I am a flightless bird
That chirps all day
For someone who isn’t absurd
And will finally stay.
I am a desperate little bird…
Riddle of A PoetWhen I feel alive...you’ll kill me.
But, when I feel deprived…you’ll heal me.
When I’m with friends...you’ll single me out.
But when my will bends…you’ll straighten me out.
When things are perfect for us...you’ll leave me for dead.
But, when things are bad between us...you’ll live in my bed.
...what are you?
- Michael Mort
LoveSo bright her starry moonlit glare,
Shines from above, and through the air,
And never once did I not stare,
Upon her beauty;
Life's Secret“I have a secret to tell,” Life said to me.
“It’s something I shouldn’t have kept; I’m so sorry.
Although you went through the worst prematurely,
I still couldn’t have said something; I’m so sorry.
And I know a simple apology is just said unfairly.
It won’t do you any good now, so I’ll spill my secret clearly —
I am good. I am good, sincerely.
I may be tough, but I am no killer, only merely
A simple soul walking your earth in your shoes yearly.
I know the agony you have endured, and I know you plea
Day in and day out, your voice practically reaching over the sea.
I am good. I am good, sincerely.
The negatives will always be here if you let them; you need positivity.
This may sound like a contradiction, but don’t erase the negativity,
Simply turn it into a beloved memory, a happy time; it can be tricky.
So, keep in the mind this secret; don’t let it conquer you, promise me?”
Life is good.
Life is gre
It's Not What It Seems To Be
They had returned to me,
Like a wave receding into the sea.
They told me to prepare for another impossibility
That was truly meant to give me the best clarity.
It was a mix of both truths and lies that was up for me to decide of what laid inside of the knowledge within me.
“It’s not all what it seems to be,” Death said to me.
“It’s not just the games I play to help give you every possibility.
But it’s up for you to choose what is right and wrong and cannot be.
Currently, within the matter of the situation, you’ve surprisingly beaten me;
All the odds were piled up against you, burying you six feet under without any capability
To escape from the suffocating ways that you know me best by in reality.
I had come to terms that I will soon pay a visit to you, happily —
I have plagued billions with disease, torment, and vulnerability ,
And it’s an aching endeavor that I cannot comprehend and accept that you have nobility,
Blasted blistered roots of trees,
limbs askew in knotted knees,
darkling bark of branches grows-
turning back, my fever flows,
Maudlin madness chills my veins,
wretched reek of death remains -
draws me dreaming to this place,
sallow streams and wallowed waste.
Twisted thoughts begin to creep
into woods where willows weep.
Turning twice I light the flame
no one there to bear my shame.
Burning bright, my sacrifice
beacon blazing in the night
warning all who wander here
that God's truth will cost them dear.
Keep in Touch!
Astralseed has firmly routed herself at the heart of our community. In particular, Katy's efforts with groups such as Traditionalists, Digitalists, Unique-Equines and CRCommunityProjects to name a few are evident of her outstanding commitment and dedication. In addition, Astralseed can always be found on our chat network and throughout our forum. Katy has been promoting unseen artists via her ProjectPorkchop articles and group. We think her contributions to the site are long overdue recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for July 2014 to Astralseed. Read More