GaspThere was noGasp by FallingAsleepTonight
she pressed her
lips to his
egothe willow is a gorgeous idiot.ego by thetaoofchaos
she does not fathom why her feathers
vault to the grass
like gouges in a green fount.
do not praise my derelictions
and unpracticed mourning,
the angle of my slump.
i have given in to gravity
and furious flights
but even so,
my envy has a blossom
and a leaf
and i may seem to wave you in
though, i am barely present,
bitter sap in a blind pillar
and i do not deserve to feel
the distant murmur of your affection.
a seafarer's lamentand now,a seafarer's lament by Sammur-amat
does the lightning-stricken current in your very pulse rage and roar
every time you touch her as it did whenever you held me- the vastest of seas
and your surely wide-eyed, waiting, warrioress waterline?
if i could be every ocean, did you know
i would be so just for you- to stretch across
all possible crevices to calm your molten core and quivering plates
i could take her river form? become the vivid, sweet-water you longed for,
washing-away the infinite that i could be just to claim myself as your source
- even if i were to become a tool for all those towns and all their inhabitants
your always aubade eyes did not deliver to me such agony by scalding
my surface yet leaving my deepest parts crisp-cold, maybe i would have
been able to understand why some scars are made out of possessiveness
would i then have stood a chance to barrel you into these waves of mine?
ApollonianA halo of clouds.Apollonian by forestmeetwildfire
The smoky scent of fire,
a burst of splattered colors, a vernissage
for you and I. Crackling flames consume
books, smoke rising to the sky where
balloons drift away and mockingbirds
sing. We are
fox furs, disintegrating into
little bits of universe, swept
away under the bed to sleep
with the dust bunnies. A blue
graces your lips, frozen
with fear. Never forget
The Killing FieldsHalf a worldThe Killing Fields by Concora
away, though I linger
here in a field by a
and on the horizon,
a temple of skulls;
though the dead
don't rest easy
as towering pearls.
A Little About Me on DeviantART:
I have been writing since I was about six years of age. I write for my own enjoyment, a sense of inner fulfillment, and I judge writing that I read on the heart and soul of a piece that speaks to me in that fashion only. I write how I desire to, and what I desire to...I have always had a rather personal rule of thumb that I live by: write to please only myself, and for the sheer enjoyment of doing so. I do not expect to earn a "quick buck," or even to "change the world," I just want to express my feelings through the hearts of my characters. I enjoy writing and reading novels of all sorts, but my favorite genres are Historical romance, fantasy, and suspense.
Away from DeviantART, I work daily in an Emergency room. Not surprisingly, there is always something exciting going on there. I do consider it my life’s work and love every minute of it. I also deem myself as a rather serious Abraham Lincoln scholar, and spend a great deal of my free time when not working studying, reading, learning, and eagerly collecting all things Lincoln.
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