This humble group has now reached 100 members!!!
And for this reason, allow me to present to everyone some of the amazing deviations submitted by you (yes you!):
2014 Mar 1st 12:27amshe begs silence to be her lover,
but chaos is much more interested in her.
Scribe Ch.1 HeeAh watched the rain as it ran down the pane in aimless swirls. One hand propped on her chin, she stared out at the watercolor diluted street with the dying maples reflected in her oaken irises. Cars whizzed by like streaks of color, leaving smears upon the asphalt in long erratic lines.
The hollow crack of chalk breaking in half echoed around the room. She turned back to the front, and watched as the instructor picked the broken piece up from the floor. He peered at it for a moment before laying it gingerly in its metal tray; a child safely back in its cradle. He cleared his sunken throat and resumed his lecture. HeeAh copied the notes that had been scratched upon the chalkboard. That’s the way her professor lectured: the most important points went on the board. Consequently, it overshadowed the brand new presentation screen with its faded green color and dulled chrome edging. It was a three-hinged contraption, as old as it
Paint-Spackled TulipsWhite paint
spackled across dark butterfly wings--
tulips in the snow.
I haven't yet learned
if I'm brave and courageous
or simply foolish.
never alonei walk on a path
that must be traveled upon
but never alone
Tequilawhen life is rubbish
the best coping mechanism
is a full bottle
hollow websi. he said, "it won't hurt"
and tied my hands up with
a length of rope, wound
his smile was like a melon rind.
ii. cold lips left a trail of lemon zest
down my spine; nightshade
kisses that felt like
belladonna flooding my eyelids,
making pupils lustrous. i thought:
i'll be a beautiful corpse.
iii. i was french resin yellowing
against his tarmac heat,
a dying elephant with tusks
whittled down to broken ivory,
an electric bass rendered useless
by a boy whose heart is out of tune.
i was a thirteen-year old girl discovering that
sex isn't vanilla, or
(he lied. why do they always lie?)
iv. by the ti
Things of the Past"Toys?"
-I want to be the cigarette coerced against your lips
Inhale me deeply so I can return to the cavern of your chest
Tainting your heart and making it love me again
I depart blissfully through your lips as I kiss them with my toxicity
Spelling your name in wisps of smoke
Let her taste me on your tongue and your clothes and let her coldly resent you for it
You cannot quit me
I rest in your veins
Where I belong
EmbraceHave you ever imagined
framed by our hands,
like dove wings
our fingers flutter
all of the light
flows through the gaps.
the way your cheek
against my shoulder,
how your hair
in little mahogany streams
seem so much more
meant to be.
Beneath the black and silver,
the kaleidoscopic effect
of your amber eyes
makes the world
seem so much smaller,
a million times more vast,
like this love.
feels like heaven
when it beats
against my check,
against my fingertips,
against my lips...
is no denying this desire,
that unites us
with the freedom
love's infinite caress.
Your eyes open
and I am consumed by them,
and I long only
to breathe the air
by your presence,
every piece of my heart
every single day
can feel the everything
always dreamed of,
you've always deserved,
and I know,
EpiphanyEpiphany - is an experience of sudden and striking realization. Generally the term is used to describe scientific breakthrough, religious or philosophical discoveries, but it can apply in any situation in which an enlightening realization allows a problem or situation to be understood from a new and deeper perspective.
Enlightened I am now in the shadow of the sun
that creeps through my window
in the corner of my room
My situation is heightened by an awareness of an utter reality
that I have come full circle in my life so far
This realization that ma
the nerve you must boil in,
kempt and coddled
and fed into your place.
you’re told it is your holy right
to be lead about from thigh to neck
and planned into some laughsome bride.
No one approaches my opposite pole.
I follow you to home,
into your twin dimension,
offset from yours
by fractions of a moment.
i’m repelled by miniatures,
truncheons held above your flesh;
they guard your healthy dread
AngelicaI went to her funeral
And she followed me home.
Still reeking of death,
Clay, topsoil and loam.
My Undying LoveHere I sit all alone
silent in the dark
with quill in hand
and ink by my side
sitting over a parchment
writing this to you
I move the tip of my quill
easily tipping it in the ink
writing to you
this letter of love
and perhaps an end
I see it all more clearly now
I write words such as
love, passion, tender
end, death, lust
and I think to myself
why do I write this letter
to you who I've loved
all this time?
Am I saying goodbye
or am I saying that I
want you here
forever with me
to the end of times?
I know what I am saying
I say that I've loved you
for all this time
for all of these years
and announce my heart to you
and beg for you to take it
or else it will be lost
lost in all eternity
it needs you
I know what I feel
and I know what I want
what I need in my life
I need only one thing
and that is what I have expressed
in this letter
which I send to you
tonight before I...
Say goodbye forever
as I know that you
would never love me
the way that I love you
I apologise forevermore
how to healthey say honey
to soften the wound,
but i let the wool
wet with ethanol
until i am
again, and again,
a casual i love you1.
a note reads: i love you.
so, i call you smiling
i love you, too.
your phone rings. he stops.
the phone stops. you
you wait, watching tv,
to tell me.
how to be a writer OR how to break your own heart.develop a personality disorder;
and an obsession with the sea.
[not a requirement but it always gives you a starting point]
ruin the one perfect relationship you will ever have,
then avoid being sober for a month,
[then carry your regrets like Atlas]
realise all your friends are shit.
find one who isn't.
cling on to him like a raft.
develop an addiction to waking up next to half strangers,
perfect your technique,
[invest in nice underwear; become an addiction]
in favour of form.
[because you can't fucking help yourself]
because they are overrated.
write about how your lifeisn'tworthliving
[swear more, sleep less]
PLASTER A SMILE OVER IT ALL
10 ways depression can say i don't love you1. "i'm sorry
i don't want to
come over today."
the clock reads 4pm
and i roll over in my bed
2. "i forgot it was your
i'd forgotten my own
3. "i promise i won't
the ER doesn't believe
it's an accident
4. you asked if i loved you.
i had to sneeze and it
i think you took that
as a no.
5. we haven't had sex in a month.
6. we don't see
we don't see
i even have any.
7. i never answered your text.
it asked if i was okay.
8. "i need you to open yourself
up for me," you said.
i stopped talking.
9. "what do you want from me,
apparently you didn't.
10. tonight i will sleep alone
but not really.
depression will hold me
and stroke my hair,
telling me everything
will never be
on drowning, swimming, and the difference thereintwo girls are swimming in two lanes, separate with a timer overhead
counting up their seconds. it’s a race to first, to the end of the lane,
to the medals and the glory and the place where water turns into land
and the dry hugs that wait there. it’s a race and
there’s a winner in the pool right now and it’s
either the girl with the red swim cap
or the one whose goggles fall off as soon as
she hits the water.
they are both in high school and they both do not know the other’s name.
the girl with the loose goggles is the crowd’s f
trust me, I'm a morticianwhen you get tired
of dragging around
your own corpse,
settlementOne day I am going to tumble down from the sky, hit the wet ocean and bounce right back up, and God will ask, “How the fuck did you do that?”
and I will smile mid-air, shut my eyes and lick up the taste of sunshine dripping off my lips, “I feel fearless.”
One day I will listen to Braille without my heart sinking like the shooting star that dropped from heaven like a shimmering bomb as I thought,
O blasted love; you’re the one for me. I do, this ring, upon my skin.
One day I will eavesdrop on the whispers of the skimpy earth to her harmonic moon,
“My poems are about you, you make my seas rise.”
the shit i learned in high school1. help clean up the morning after the party.
(even if it wasn't you
who smashed tater tots into the carpet
or left crushed beer cans in the flowerbox.
it might as well have been, and
if you're lucky
next time, it will be.)
2. when your phone rings after midnight,
it's never the person you want it to be.
answer it anyway.
and when it's a boy who wants to read poetry and watch meteor showers,
understand that that's probably not all he wants,
and then hang up.
or don't hang up.
trade poems and stars and kisses,
and let it mean nothing or everything.
3. skipping class is never a good idea
unless you're with a friend you love
and you sneak along the railroad tracks to sit and smoke and watch trains pass
or unless you're alone,
and you need to walk and think and drink steaming coffee in the rain
okay, fuck it, skipping class at least once is probably a good idea.
4. don't apologize for asking questions.
5. don't be afraid to disagree.
6. don't get caught.
7. everyone is lonely
buzzednever tell the ones closest to you
you write to live a million lives, you write to stay here
no, show them something that looks like a poem so they'll
get off your back
live life in a chair and
imagine you're everywhere
but where you spend
the little time you've got left
be you but don't be
anyone and everyone
that is you
be a beautiful
and push everyone away
then draw them in with your
sad fucking words
make people cry
make people wish they were dead
and alive at the same time
think about it for a while
then forget about it in a drink
in the sheets
then don't sleep
leave every sad memory behind
carry it in your pockets like
the pennies you say you'll
spend one day but only
caress with your fingertips
from the ones that want nothing
to do with you
from the ones that don't
have love to give
then write about it
over and over
until it has turned
into something that
looks like a poem
like a tree
From the contributor, JWA2277
Our HandsWe craft; we eat; we play; we write. Much of what we do is done with our hands, though none is quite the same. My hands are big, but balanced, whose fingers dance across the keyboard and transitions images into words. Each scar is a chiseled mark to show the masterpiece within. Some have very feminine hands—long fingers, long nails, from pretty accessories to talons cutting into keys, like metal against metal. Some have hands guided by the left, awkwardly moving through the right-sided world. Some have baby hands, very tiny, very thin, long or boney: little skeleton bones poking like thorns from the beautiful rose. We’re all different, yet “Eugnique”, with the same silver bands showing our unity and knowledge—right over left, clasped in an eternal circle.
I Don't KnowI don't know,
the size of the stars,
or the color of my veins,
because so many times they've been rearranged,
I don't know,
what being happy feels like,
or why i cant sleep at night,
because of the thoughts that have taken the reins,
all I know,
is that when I go,
you will never find me.
Hookedhe got attached
was fused to him
with super glue
he pulled away
it stung me harder
Dear Poetry,You will find out that I am not a strong person. Dragons do not make a home beneath my skin to hoard their treasured princesses. I am not that lucky. For I have misplaced collarbones just as quickly as I’ve misplaced hearts, a pulse still rhythmic against my fingertips. I am a monster of words, devouring Cummings and Plath with no ounce of self control left in my body. I promised myself this weight would not fall for the sharp edges of stars ground into your knuckles. But, write air into my lungs, poetry. Give this wild thing a reason to learn the definition of tamed.
Write me a poem, and I will promise to fall in love with you, slowly and then…all at once.
Metaphors You cut my Gordian knot,
Unravelling me too.
I was impossible
And yet was solved
By you and only you.
I was the Cretan Labyrinth
Containing my Minotaur.
You were my Theseus
Who slayed my demons
And left me with nothing to live for.
I slit my throat with Occam’s razor
and cut too close to the bone.
My simple assumption
And I am left alone.
Call Me Anything...Call me ugly,
But I'm beautiful within.
Call me a geek,
But I'll get a future.
Call me a freak,
But I am unique.
Call me unpopular,
But I have real friends.
Call me anything,
But I'm a human being.
I am me,
and YOU cannot change that.
Forgotten FriendTo a certain user here
With the knack to disappear.
Vanished since the winter time,
As dust collects account slime.
Remembrance etches away
For one past, and gone today.
Presently, there's nothing that
Brings the bunny from the hat.
With a smile, reviews flew
From this user's hand, and to
Me and you. And when they came,
Hungry lions would be tame.
Underrated angels sing
Words that haunt you lingering.
And if you listen, candle light
Shimmers while you read tonight.
From the co-founder Pauper-Circumstance
Endorsed By The Surgeon General.She was like cigarettes.
She took his breath
and filled his lungs with promises
that evaporated like
Human NatureWhy do we need to connect to people,
yet are able to have the mindset to
hate almost everyone we meet.
Why do we fall in love with the unattainable.
And get hurt when the concept is fulfilled.
Why can we be surrounded with people,
yet feel so alone.
Why can't we feel happy,
but sad comes naturally.
What is the point,
when our life is not our own.
The writers and readers see meaning,
when they are blind.
The ignorant and disinterested will
not even see this.
And the world goes on.
My Love, StayCome closer my love, stay
allow me to gaze upon
beautiful lights in hazel-baby-blues.
Our eyes caress,
but dare never to hold
pulses rise and
travel along sweetest curves –
cut deep my psyche, though I must not
beg you to stay, my love.
Our eyes confess,
but dare never to convey
carnal pleasures and
disguised touches reach, and linger –
soft breaths whisper a promise
to stay, my love.
Entrap me within beautiful lights you’ll
allow me to gaze upon
as you come closer my love, stay.
Ode To A FalconHave you seen the falcon in the heavens
Wings slicing through the zephyrs at such speeds
As no other creature has yet achieved,
Barreling through the air like a bullet
As his feathers combine to make him sleek?
Have you watched him in the midst of a hunt,
Flying as fast as his form will let him
Rushing towards his airborne, avian prey,
Assaulting it with his feet and catching-
Its unconscious body out of the air?
Have you observed his movements as to feel
At once delighted and jealous of him
Overjoyed that he maintains the freedom
To meet the sky upon his own accord,
Envious that you cannot do the same?
I like you~ A PoemI could say that "I like you",
But I have to much pride,
I said that I didn't care,
But that's where I lied
I could say that "I hate you",
But that would't be true,
I'm hiding my feelings and my heart,
Just like you do too
I could say that "I care",
But ego is in the way,
Of what I really want to feel,
And what I want to say
I could say that "I want you",
But that would be a lie,
And If you ever left me,
I wouldn't even cry
I could say that "I love you",
But what would happen if I did?
Instead of saying these words to you,
I ran away and hid
Static Wings-the hands of a dragonfly
were never made
to shatter time
to turn gravity around
they carry a tornado
in little wings, beating
their imprints holding
crescent moons, like
half bitten secrets
flowing out from wells
separating life from hope
static winter could never
stand for dreams
and they were always
somewhere in between-
Reverse phoenixes riot, revived into rebellion.
I haven't yet learned
if I'm brave and courageous
or simply foolish.
The Lotus Woman's ChildThe fruit blossoms and flowers that grew near my fathers house in Zhejiang province stopped blooming that year in 1941. My fathers house near Qiandao Lake was always full of flowers, especially the white lotus, the sweet smelling flower that never had thorns. My neighbours said that it was because winter was at hand, but I think it was the Japanese military occupation that made it so. The fragile flower was to me, the soul of the serene province that I once called home as a child. Many asked me why I decided to leave the place that I had loved and grew up in.
When asked why I left Zhejiang, I simply replied that I was restless. I couldnt stay in my familys house for long, and as soon as I was old enough, I left for a whole new city. I moved to Shanghai as a police officer in 1935, two years before the horrible nightmare in Nanjing, when thousands of troops from the Imperial Army ravaged the capital. Thousands died in that oppressive massacre that lasted more tha
NetherThe world unfurls:
becomes a gemstone, sinking
a mirror breaking
a thousand splintering realities
and I am lost —
forgotten who I ever was,
forgotten how to breathe.
::Sad Girl::I knew a girl who hated herself
She cried and cried every night of her life
The sadness she carried overflowed from her mind
Everytime she'd look in the mirror she wanted to die
The face she saw broke her heart and brought tears to her eyes
She never knew how beautiful she was
The only thing she saw was the vision in her mind
Broken and twisted and far from the truth
She searched for love all over town
Where anybody could have her for three simple words
They used her as she used herself, broke her mind and tore out her soul
I never found out how she could lie
With dreams in her eyes and the nightmares in her mind
Lying in my arms she wept for her sins
For trying to be someone she should never become
She rose from my arms and wiped the tears from her face
With a glint in her eye and a flash in her smile
She turned and strolled out of the room and into the night
Out in the cold and far from her home
She stumbled and fell and thought she was alone
Then without hope, on a rope too tight
ScarsThe scars on my skin
Have been transferred from my heart
To preserve my mind
Mother EarthThe arc of her spine
mimicked the gentle slopes of
the distant mountains.
Guilt (Not Anymore)An invisible enemy plagues me
and crossed lines
leave beautiful black holes
in the only heart that I have left
a sliver of the galaxyto the star girl on the edge of my tongue:
your hair dye is fading; you are a patch work
quilt comprised of sleepless nights and
the world around you romanticizes
the sadness that fills you like a broken well,
but you know they’re wrong --
having a darkness that threatens
to overwhelm you every single moment
isn’t glamorous at all.
you’ve started to trace your skin
with a knife again, itching to press
a little harder, to draw on your body
the only way you know how.
but you won’t.
because that will mean
that you’re just as far gone
as they think you are.
and there’s still a sliver inside of you
that doesn’t want to let go.
--the girl on the other side of your mirror
And here's a message from me to everyone:
You're all wonderful writers - truly. All of you have been a wonderful part of this literary community. I don't know where I would've stood in my writing and in life if it weren't for all of you putting in all your effort and your devotion in helping make this group become what it is:
A treasure trove for diverse writers to converse and be known for what they truly are - rarities worthy of praise and admiration.
Thus with this I end this message... with a rub'iyaa :
For you, my stars, who shine 'pon the night sky
Quenched of tears, I watch with a blissful eye
The seed of sound wisdom, gently spreading
upon the ocean, triumphant you fly
Cheers, and keep posting