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Literature
Voy a volver al mar
Voy a volver al mar
y le voy a contar todo esto
y va a saber de mis viajes
y de vos, y de este invierno
Voy a volver al mar y le voy a decir que no me mienta
y voy a preguntarle cosas
sabidas y secretas
y me voy a quedar sus respuestas
Al mar voy a volver cuanto antes
y le voy a decir que me espere,
porque ya dentro de poco vuelvo,
porque lo estuve extrañando tanto,
pero me quedan todavía otros inviernos
y esos inviernos quedan lejos
:iconBluestWaves:BluestWaves
:iconbluestwaves:BluestWaves 0 0
Literature
rescue
and i, a mermaid,
would comb your night black hair,
would caress your lack of fins as you
lay on the sand so warm,
and a constellation of fish would inspect in wonder
my lethal nails as i, scale by scale, ripped them all off,
to place them,
lovingly,
on your parched skin and shield you from the sun
and i would steal you into the dead dark waters
and in this kingdom
you would be resurrected.
:iconBluestWaves:BluestWaves
:iconbluestwaves:BluestWaves 0 0
Literature
The last of the lords of the Otterdom
The last of the lords of the Otterdom.
None of the children of Ottred could speak
of the wonders beyond the Big Whisker, which was
the waterfall that marked one of the borders of the realm.
It was the place where their father had crossed in
his youth, as a rite of passage. Of all that lay beyond
they had sworn never to speak, because the heirs to the
throne were the only ones who knew of the world further out.
King after king had explored in a different direction.
Then, stories passed from royal otterfather to otterchild
about everywhere.
:iconBluestWaves:BluestWaves
:iconbluestwaves:BluestWaves 0 0
Literature
The Selkie paradox
On the day I emerged from the forest
I wore a cloak made of moss and sapling birches,
and the world then knew I was the Treemaker.
On the day I trod onto spring,
the city gave me the likeness of the fox,
and the wolf underneath resurrected.
On the day when my feet touched the sand one more time,
I revelled on the viking shoreline
and I fell back in touch with my ancestors.
On the day I reached the edges of the world,
I beheld eternity, withheld eternity,
and fulfilled the prophecy from years ago.
I have gotten off the boat,
I stand on the sands of the gods.
The winter will dawn with the siren-calling
makings of a new epic.
:iconBluestWaves:BluestWaves
:iconbluestwaves:BluestWaves 0 0
Literature
Sea of Thetys
Like chipped paper peeling off the house's walls,
my words have lessened and lessened and rattled.
Do I say too much now,
or just too little?
Have I wisened, or shrunk?
Fossil bones of whales of poems
lie silent on the crest of barren mountains-
the Himalaya of my soul is not close to heaven at all.
In this dark grey morning,
Norway and Iceland fade in the rearview mirror,
and only the moorlands are left,
haunting,
with the ghost of Puerto Williams following me like
the devil's tail.
Where has my soul been marooned?
I close my eyes and, in this dark room,
I play cards with Franklin's poisoned crew
and Shackleton's sled dogs.
Frostbitten essence.
Congealed life blood that will not thaw.
Beautiful and terrible me
has paid the price of being the spirit of the storm.
:iconBluestWaves:BluestWaves
:iconbluestwaves:BluestWaves 5 1
Literature
Home
A passing ship in the horizon,
billows, gentle like a flower,
cawing, miles and miles of crisscross cawing
and me, looking at the sun setting lighthouses and fireworks,
forgetting the northern lights or
the compass rose, setting course to a green place that is not green,
a warm place that is not warm,
sunlight through leaves I've never seen
and old familiar songs I've never sung,
through chapped lips that want to breathe in the scents like if they were air,
like if they were water,
like if my eyes would go blind from seeing things that are not real,
this is how I set course to
somewhere.
Home.
You.
:iconBluestWaves:BluestWaves
:iconbluestwaves:BluestWaves 0 0
Literature
Conclusion
In this seaside town story I have been reduced to the
evening shadows on the sand.
I have travelled thousands of miles from the fringes of the wastelands,
all the way to the polar outer-skirts.
Running away from monsterslayers and fallen kings,
I've outsmarted highwaymen and bucaneers
and paid the toil with all the blood I had.
I carved claws out of my fingers,
I climbed my way up from the lowest tide.
I swam away from the ruins of an underwater kingdom of glass and ruins,
hungry for the world above,
and left myself for dead adrift on pack-ice.
In this seaside story filled with seabirds,
kelp and membranes,
where I'm a mermaid who clambered onto a passing ship
to escape certain death,
you're the prince, and I was cursed, but mostly blessed, to have set my eyes on you.
:iconBluestWaves:BluestWaves
:iconbluestwaves:BluestWaves 0 0
Literature
300 km N of the Arctic circle
You can summon spirits on Norwegian coffee
but no matter what,
I don't take calls from dead people.

You can't keep sailboats in a harbour with their sails prepared to sail,
being prepared is, perhaps, more of an inner journey thing.

Mountains and witchcraft go hand in hand,
lacking the horizon is the most destructive kind of ignorance.

Now I think back on the forests, and the prairies, and the unforgiving teeth of Navarino,
and I believe the jaws of the perennial ice will forever close around my neck.

nix
grando
glacies.
spiritus procellarus.
:iconBluestWaves:BluestWaves
:iconbluestwaves:BluestWaves 2 1
Literature
att leva med vargen
ögon stängs och skogen kommer till liv
med tystnad och ljud
och mörker och ljus
den talar.
välkomna.
själens stillhet liknar ängarna,
där hjärtans häst vill jaga fåglar.
men vid skogens kant blir varje lov en skugga,
där minnes tomma blick,
där ångests slitna vålnad
väntar med vassa törst.
och så måste vi lära oss
att leva med vargen.
:iconBluestWaves:BluestWaves
:iconbluestwaves:BluestWaves 0 0
Literature
Kaerleken
du är här och jag
andas äntligen i fred
ur från skogens djup
:iconBluestWaves:BluestWaves
:iconbluestwaves:BluestWaves 1 0
Literature
In the wilderness
Following the trail,
close to the entrance of the forest,
I find the end of the path.
The rim of the winter
and the songs of unknown birds,
remind me that home is where the heart is.
:iconBluestWaves:BluestWaves
:iconbluestwaves:BluestWaves 0 0
Literature
I have stolen from the jackal
I have stolen from the jackal
words of silk and the winning laugh,
from the jackal, scum of the desert,
I have stolen many tricks.
I have taken for my own
sweet desert-dog deception,
the pack awareness that lone wolves lack,
and the knack for storytelling.
A swelling perception of self,
and fake attention, and I also took from him
a rulebook for men,
and a rulebook for girls,
and none I use, but both I stash.
I have stolen from the jackal.
Without remorse, without regret,
things I needed and things I lacked,
all that I wished, to never give back,
because the world is a wilderness,
and each must forge for himself his sword.
I fight this war wrapped in my enemies' skin,
and as all is fair in love and war,
from the jackal, scum of the desert,
I have stolen many tricks.
:iconBluestWaves:BluestWaves
:iconbluestwaves:BluestWaves 1 0
Literature
Winterheart's traversing of the moorlands III
With frozen fingers
and hollow eyes,
I've been a ribcage wolf
of isolation and pain
and from afar,
for centuries,
I have desired spring.
Oh how did I desire spring,
and spring, how much did it elude me.
From afar,
I have watched,
and I have hungered.
And I have waited,
and I have died.
And Death, in its vast, grand halls of smoke,
welcomed me, embraced me,
dried my tears.
Gave me, lovingly, death.
And I have died,
and I have lain,
and I have known the unknown,
and now I roam again, reborn.
Tight skin shelters my bones,
a shiny mane cloaks me from the rain.
In the midst of spring I
play among the flowers, I sneeze,
I am a child.
I cover my old scars with prairies,
with forests,
with all the scents I had forgotten.
I am in spring.
I am in spring,
and life wakes up,
and I, in life, wake up.
:iconBluestWaves:BluestWaves
:iconbluestwaves:BluestWaves 0 0
Literature
Bonfire thoughts
With claws made of ice and bones,
the dragon has struck me.
There is nothing you resemble,
not since I love you.
I feel I'm made of something brittle and ancient.
I feel vulnerable.
Soon, I will feel old.
You're unlike everything else
since I love you.
Is it too late for me, perhaps?
No one can know how the moorlands scarred me.
:iconBluestWaves:BluestWaves
:iconbluestwaves:BluestWaves 1 0
Literature
deliverance
I.
I don't remember ever living
in a world where you and I were nothing.
II. (parentheses)
(Sunset, incense, tarragon.
With the passing of winter,
I discover that the thawing ice reveals
shame and shyness.
Is this also me?
I can't wait for spring to make me bloom,
even if I'm made of bones and marrow.)
III.
"Oh me,
oh life,
home in the wild".
Let's walk the road less travelled,
and see where it takes us.
:iconBluestWaves:BluestWaves
:iconbluestwaves:BluestWaves 0 0
Literature
cheap mythology
We were like Endymion and Selene,
impossible. Maybe aesthetic.
I realize now how I never really wrote you a love poem.
:iconBluestWaves:BluestWaves
:iconbluestwaves:BluestWaves 1 0



“There remained the sea, which is free to all,
and particularly alluring to those who feel themselves
at war with humanity.”

― Rafael Sabatini


Favourites

Literature
To the lonely sea and the sky
in the dim of twilight
I feel immortal
but I feel blue;
stardust and sun drenched
torsos
watercolor pain
like the desert misses the rain
I remember you:
a sky of smog
coasting on thin ice,
limbs tangled
around the
sextile sun and uranus
bones
dust
insomnia on the silvermoon
but I am the wayward child
and there's a hole in my soul,
so please show me
show me what the stars look like tonight.
:iconbrokengod--veins:brokengod--veins
:iconbrokengod--veins:brokengod--veins 29 24
Literature
Before I Can Become a Writer
Make an enemy. Make a friend.
Lie to one. Give the other truth.
Not necessarily in that order.
Kiss the same sex.
Fall in love.
Lie to both. Write about it.
Hate the world for a while.
Then love it.
Then hate it again.
Get misdiagnosed with a mental disorder.
Take prescriptions that do more harm than good.
Fuck up. Blame the meds. Fuck up again. Blame yourself.
Lie about it. Write about it. Forget it happened.
But don't forgive yourself.
Get felt up before the age of six.
Do some feeling because they told you to.
Cry.
Write like you're over it but don't mean it.
Because how could you get over something like that.
Protect someone you love more than life itself.
Protect them by getting felt up;
by getting used.
Protect her by being ten and letting a dirty old man touch you;
taste you.
Pretend that you don't scream about it in your sleep.
Cry a lot.
Write about it in metaphors and similes.
Drink tea. Drink more tea.
Drink tea until your tears become tinted.
Drink coffee. Hate it. 
Ea
:iconGeorgiaFern:GeorgiaFern
:icongeorgiafern:GeorgiaFern 25 24
What If... #2 - The Little Mermaid by Memorabilia-Studios What If... #2 - The Little Mermaid :iconmemorabilia-studios:Memorabilia-Studios 485 138 Stitch and Toothless by TsaoShin Stitch and Toothless :icontsaoshin:TsaoShin 42,475 5,956
Literature
thanatopsis
   in the taste of
bones, the sun puked
and coloured us
red in tune 
with the velvet
singing
in our veins
:iconcrimsonletters:crimsonletters
:iconcrimsonletters:crimsonletters 11 11
Tia Dalma - Calypso II by the-mirror-melts Tia Dalma - Calypso II :iconthe-mirror-melts:the-mirror-melts 1,646 258 Forest of linden by LillianEvill Forest of linden :iconlillianevill:LillianEvill 1,449 277 Beren and Luthien by ebe-kastein Beren and Luthien :iconebe-kastein:ebe-kastein 129 24 Scandinavian summer by siby Scandinavian summer :iconsiby:siby 13 5 Vision VIII by siby Vision VIII :iconsiby:siby 30 0 Vision VI by siby Vision VI :iconsiby:siby 514 27 The Wolf by BeatrizMartinVidal The Wolf :iconbeatrizmartinvidal:BeatrizMartinVidal 2,108 91 Pleurs by Sieskja Pleurs :iconsieskja:Sieskja 205 23 Lajana by Sieskja Lajana :iconsieskja:Sieskja 333 29 The priestess of Amon-ra by Chuchy5 The priestess of Amon-ra :iconchuchy5:Chuchy5 603 82 Sea by StudioUndertheMoon Sea :iconstudiounderthemoon:StudioUndertheMoon 247 22
so random, it even creeps ME up.

Groups

Activity


Voy a volver al mar
y le voy a contar todo esto
y va a saber de mis viajes
y de vos, y de este invierno

Voy a volver al mar y le voy a decir que no me mienta
y voy a preguntarle cosas
sabidas y secretas
y me voy a quedar sus respuestas

Al mar voy a volver cuanto antes
y le voy a decir que me espere,
porque ya dentro de poco vuelvo,
porque lo estuve extrañando tanto,
pero me quedan todavía otros inviernos
y esos inviernos quedan lejos
and i, a mermaid,
would comb your night black hair,
would caress your lack of fins as you
lay on the sand so warm,
and a constellation of fish would inspect in wonder
my lethal nails as i, scale by scale, ripped them all off,
to place them,
lovingly,
on your parched skin and shield you from the sun

and i would steal you into the dead dark waters
and in this kingdom
you would be resurrected.
The last of the lords of the Otterdom.


None of the children of Ottred could speak
of the wonders beyond the Big Whisker, which was
the waterfall that marked one of the borders of the realm.
It was the place where their father had crossed in
his youth, as a rite of passage. Of all that lay beyond
they had sworn never to speak, because the heirs to the
throne were the only ones who knew of the world further out.
King after king had explored in a different direction.
Then, stories passed from royal otterfather to otterchild
about everywhere.
On the day I emerged from the forest
I wore a cloak made of moss and sapling birches,
and the world then knew I was the Treemaker.

On the day I trod onto spring,
the city gave me the likeness of the fox,
and the wolf underneath resurrected.

On the day when my feet touched the sand one more time,
I revelled on the viking shoreline
and I fell back in touch with my ancestors.

On the day I reached the edges of the world,
I beheld eternity, withheld eternity,
and fulfilled the prophecy from years ago.

I have gotten off the boat,
I stand on the sands of the gods.
The winter will dawn with the siren-calling
makings of a new epic.
The Selkie paradox
In Norway. Of course the lighthouse was in Norway.

I wonder if I maybe knew.
Loading...
Like chipped paper peeling off the house's walls,
my words have lessened and lessened and rattled.
Do I say too much now,
or just too little?
Have I wisened, or shrunk?

Fossil bones of whales of poems
lie silent on the crest of barren mountains-
the Himalaya of my soul is not close to heaven at all.

In this dark grey morning,
Norway and Iceland fade in the rearview mirror,
and only the moorlands are left,
haunting,
with the ghost of Puerto Williams following me like
the devil's tail.

Where has my soul been marooned?

I close my eyes and, in this dark room,
I play cards with Franklin's poisoned crew
and Shackleton's sled dogs.



Frostbitten essence.
Congealed life blood that will not thaw.



Beautiful and terrible me
has paid the price of being the spirit of the storm.
Sea of Thetys
Norway, 2018.
Loading...

deviantID

BluestWaves's Profile Picture
BluestWaves
witchfingers
Artist
Antarctica


dolls and art and life and death and the sea behind my eyelids and a thousand voodoo huts; all revolting around the scent of the wilderness, dancing at the edge of the end of the world.




:fish:


free counters
Interests
I need a journal entry tonight, but I need it in a place where I can write things that are for my eyes alone, things that only I can read because I have so many confessions and so little inclination to share them with prying eyes.
I need the tideline.
I need the endless scroll of sand between ebb and flow, where I can write and write and write and then have every word and thought erased and preserved forever by the gods undersea.

I think my split finger is broken, but not like broken, broken. Broken like un-dammed, like something happened to it that cannot be undone, like it somehow empowered me.
Winning through losing. Delicious, yes.

I have a ring that sails between hands and feels right in both. In the right it's slightly unconfortable, but I like that, because it's a reminder of something very central to my life and this way I always bear it in mind. Plus the right hand is where you wear engagement rings, I think, which is precisely what this ring is. Yes yes.

Well, confessions, confessions. I think I need a friend to talk to, in lieu of the beach, but in lieu of both, here I am. Counting the seconds to a new days' dawn, all the while wishing time would freeze, stop moving.

(My fingers, again, look like spiders. Fascinating)

I am unbelievably intrigued by The Winter. What new madness will I run into in Europe? "The third welcomed death like an old friend", somehow sounds very appropriate.

Cowards die many times before their time,
the valiant never taste of death but once


Today something very strange happened. I was sitting by the table, having lunch, and suddenly I felt like something was shifting, turning around, I can't explain it with words... it was as if something picked me up and sat me in a different direction.
And then a soft breeze blew, and I realized the wind had just turned.
It was huge.
Also, it felt like something out of "The Folk Keeper", which I would very much like to buy some day in my life, please, how can one actually crave a book?
.. and lose it twice?

Ay, I better go to sleep. Like always, I'll keep my confessions to myself.

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconburtonlovr:
BurtonLovr Featured By Owner Aug 12, 2017  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thanks for the watch!!
Reply
:icondahliawilder:
DahliaWilder Featured By Owner Dec 10, 2014  Professional General Artist
Reply
(1 Reply)
:icondahliawilder:
DahliaWilder Featured By Owner Jul 26, 2014  Professional General Artist
Reply
:iconluthienthye:
LuthienThye Featured By Owner May 4, 2014  Professional Artisan Crafter
thank you for the watch :)
Reply
(1 Reply)
:icondreamer-of-magic:
Dreamer-of-Magic Featured By Owner Apr 14, 2014   General Artist
dreamer-of-magic.deviantart.co… Here is the link to my illustration of your "amphitrite II" :)
Reply
:iconnaama6699:
naama6699 Featured By Owner Jan 18, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thanks for the llama :)
Reply
:icondreamer-of-magic:
Dreamer-of-Magic Featured By Owner Dec 24, 2013   General Artist
Happy Birthday! :D :heart: And a Merry Christmas!
Reply
:iconexnihilo-nihil:
Exnihilo-nihil Featured By Owner Oct 19, 2013  Professional Writer
Thank you ! :rose:
Reply
:iconmarsiesinclaire:
MarsieSinclaire Featured By Owner Oct 7, 2013  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Reply
:iconkitteh-pawz:
Kitteh-Pawz Featured By Owner Sep 30, 2013  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for the +fav's :) (Smile)
Feel free to check out the rest of my gallery! La la la la
Reply
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