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Literature
Oddities encountered in space
There was a station that sexy animals set ablaze.
A telescope pulled by the force of a black star
that sent dozens of images from its wayward trajectory:
colossal magnesium clouds
in the shape of a meditating human.
There was an artificial comet created in a far corner
by some glass technologies.
A huge, planet-sized sculpture of a pocket watch
filled with sand.
There was a signal
transmitted through telling darkness,
decrypted by the stubborn
and vastly rich nations of earth:
It is a heart. It is a blinking mind.
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Literature
Bare vision
An acre of Texas
with a single rusted shack.
Brown wires in the dark yard, squaring
kennels for these images:
two Blue Heelers
and their pups,
two Rottweilers
full of scars.
A still Doberman,
the worms that slowly
ate his living eyes.
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Literature
Untitled
I heard recordings of the music Saturn makes
on the outskirts of our solar system, its many moons
spinning around it like fingertips
on the edge of a wine glass.
Saturn's music sounded
like the mantra of a submarine giant
sustained in contemplation
of the abyss. Of the heavens.
It filled the narrow living room
breathing over unread books
and closed envelopes,
reverberating in the crystals
of my kitchen.
I sat at the computer
with tingling eyes,
my disbelief
reading the recording's description:
these are the inaudible sounds
of the planet Saturn,
translated
for your hearing pleasure.
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Literature
Ladrones Are the Least of Our Worries
No es cuestión de anónimos pero pregunto abyecto,
what’s the safest method of civil disobedience when the skies
albergan aves remotas bombarderas, que revientan cielo allá en Oriente
Middle. America, you vast estate,
con increíbles plantíos que tú dominas,
where old ground battles its new name
como vio a los Incas batallar,
and the Aztecs and the Iroquois,
los Iroqués también.
No es cuestión de anónimos pero pregunto
the way a voice falls when you’re speaking
ante la reina sur, la patria prima y vera.
What can a free people do
cuando en el cielo brillan, tiránicas, las aves.
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Literature
Peacetime Songs or Euthanasias
I wanted a war-time melody for the aching ears of all the people who silently protest the military efforts of our time; a song to soothe, a flood of words in which to drown our battered hopes, for their mercy. So I conjured in my rib-caged eye the images of war,
the open minds of fallen soldiers, spilling New York and Los Angeles, Moscow and Baghdad onto the streets of anywhere; their mouthing wounds elevating cries into the city stench of gunpowder blackened buildings; the look on their eyes when the true meaning of damage and collateral crashes into their fleshy souls, begging in curses, wailing arms at them for a redraw of the cards: You instead, not my little boy! But every soldier is a little boy,
and as I saw them huddled beside Humvees, warding cold deserts with divine stories of mundane happenings at hometown proms, repeating to themselves this weapon is lighter than a wrench; as I saw them mourning for the friends that wouldn't recognize them, returned, victorious shells, I re
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Literature
From the Informal Dictionary of ELA Amendments
Hiraeth
noun
A full circle on a window that frosted
over a look outside, drawn with a tip.
Revelatory, round, fading back
into the unexpected cold.
Suddenly remembered, of all things,
gone
like the trees on the lawn, like the brick mailbox
your brother crashed his bike into.
More than the circle itself,
all it contained. The intimacies of that year,
the pitch and tone of the voices
which called out in laughter
from a living room that is now empty.
More than the circle
its fleeting existence on the glass,
its permanence in you.
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Literature
Vishnu Dreams of Marilyn Monroe
In cities of ashen shine you pucker lips
too lush to be anything but bridges.
Winding through windows
the wind chimes slowly,
mingles the threads of your brown hair
with the voice of horses wild, unseen,
brought from the steppes of common place heaven
to the machination of light that surrounds you,
city dwelling fox of the fiery tome
of unreason.
In this catastrophic miracle that is my dream,
in this cosmic clutter of symbols
and names
where the histories are meaningless
and bones turn to stone
and stones fly,
launched from the small hands of children;
in this reckless melody first heard
so many dreams ago, this composition
of burning wolves and howling jellyfish,
random shapes unexpectedly take form,
the nonsense
is all laid out
and spoken with measure. Jungles cease to be
a water paint haze
and become jungles, teeming of song's true form
when from the moisture of a shower
you emerge, deciphering.
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Literature
Revisiting
Don't I know you from Babylon?
There was a drowning music behind the walls,
blue light swirling of smoke and laughter,
the lingering taste of mescaline
and bodies dancing all around us. Half naked
they twirled about, beautifully obscene, appalling and perfect.
I think it was your eyes
the eyes that marveled most, I can still see them
deep in the well of young desire, open like mouths
that never knew hunger. And your hands I think
were the hands that felt the most,
and your feet the most intent,
your ears the most rejoiced.
Not like they are now,
having left the velvet city
with no return in sight;
ragged, still, uneventfully resigned.
Yes, it must have been Babylon,
the place where we first met.
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Literature
The Wandering Samurai
Mirikitani rose
on the high hills of a concrete prairie
with an atomic vision of bursting persimmons
lingering in his mind.
Still soaked in the night's rain
he gathered his gear:
a sword
coated by ink so black
that feline chills climbed upon the spines of those who saw it,
a handful of seeds
to plant in the wasteland, to shatter the grey absolute,
photographs with fading faces
and a skin of river water.
In the absolute clamor of his loneliness
he looked upon the landscape:
beyond the rolling hills
stood a secession of red rooftops
where the sun fell, harsh, unforgiving,
and where all things
were created equal.
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Literature
About Some Boots
My dad was shot in the back
as he walked out of a bar.
I was waiting for him on the sidewalk
across the street
and when he fell
I ran as fast as the bullet,
but it took me a lifetime to realize
I would never reach him.
We buried him in his only pair of boots
which my mother cleaned before the ceremony.
In my whole life
it was the first time I saw them
shine.
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Literature
experminent 24
a list for understanding freedom:
symmetry open area taller trees
musical genre
aging bliss conviction
memory
spoken true forever
publicly
anywhere easy happiness.
equally
totally
fulfilled.
gathering
destiny
pursuit.
artistic union.
vocation
creation
illumination. under god
for which we stand.
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Literature
the one about a window
Your window is a bastard of the sky,
it makes me angry. I should break it with a song.
A stone of truth
shooting at the crystal
where you see yourself transparent.
A stone of lies
to set you free.
Your window is a bastard of the sky
but you could be a falcon if you wanted.
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Literature
on things i heard outside
Understanding poetry
you must look upwards
in search of the satellite that has gone array
in twilights of blue and green
and maybe
grey,
the moon should fall from its high bed
like a silver boy with fever.
Close your eyes to see this lightning:
pumping veins of god when she's excited.
Breath inwards
and exhale nothing,
keep every word and every tune;
tinfoil harmonicas
dancing in the western desert
lullaby these wounds of simple sound,
there is no meaning.
Understanding poetry
you bend your knees, renounce your name and become ushered
into the melting mouth of beauty.
I am here, I have been here and will be here
nameless like the rocks, listening to wind.
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Literature
experiment 77
1
and i am going to the temple of Vesta
understanding slideshows,
blue
gray
light dusting an iris.
and I am going to the temple of Vesta,
farming the wasteland seeding the soil,
diggin' a grave(mourning
is day).
with my way your way
is intertwined;
summer shivers winter,
light lives in a shadow,
dust blue from the corners of the mind
and snows now like a whisper: dust blew.
tired won a ruin:
ashtray understanding, over the top ignition
of arabesque impossible.
wind
owns
everything,
it blows my mind away
and I am going to the temple of Vesta.
                   2
The virgin vestal is untouchable
and I'm somehow getting bored,
never did I marry for a home.
Her voice, an ever standing statue,
fell upon my love,
and so I broke her.
Warranties are void after this verse.
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Literature
on commuting with no hurry
there you go
lighting matches in the rain,
walking with two feet
that the gods gave you
because they cannot walk,
heading home as if with news
of some miraculous disaster,
counting the steps between yourself
and the clouds that disappeared
behind the grey veil of October.
thunder and lightning unfold
so close above
and you dream of a destination
somewhere in the south
where birds and stormy weather coexist.
behind you there is nothing,
running water will erase
every footprint you have left
on the dark sand of this metropolis.
before you there is distance,
enough to live your life
in a constant state of travel,
but not nearly enough signs
for you to know
where you are heading.
close your eyes
as not to be blinded
by the red lights and the yellow warnings,
those ever changing speed limits,
and open your arms
as to be looked at by the sun
that will soon peek out behind the nothingness,
ripping the veil
of the vast, unending
cobweb sky.
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Literature
Pajaros de Polvora 2
III
Uno no escribe.
Despierta en la boca de un instante
que olvidó morir,
señala
los cuerpos mutilados del silencio.
Uno corrige
los errores de etiqueta,
besa el asfalto
para fundir sus labios al cielo.
Encuentra
las sombras de una muchacha,
cuyo nombre escapó de la memoria
en el primer tren de los cuerpos.
Uno no escribe
apunta las voces de la vida.
V
Uno a uno
pedazos de mí
cayeron como ángeles
al suelo.
Mis manos se prensaron:
perros a la silla.
Mientras la agonía
de los cuchillos continuaba.
No odio a la gente,
a nadie en realidad,
sólo al peluquero.
VI
Mañana será
el día un árbol
que reniega las raíces,
la fotografía de tus labios en el limbo,
un edificio con las entrañas expuestas,
un arroyo de cordura
que desborda el lagrimal.
La banqueta que barren las ancianas
hasta quedarse sin escoba,
sepultadas bajo el polvo.
VII
Cada palabra tiene consecuencias:
Ciudad
la voz se pierde tras la esquina,
adelgaza los cimie
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Favourites

Literature
this summer
there are still holes in the air where your voice used to be. i don’t think they’re going to heal over. so i pray under my breath a lot – good things, though. like, “i am smelling these lilacs for you” and “there is a moth on the stucco. her wings are two black leaves.” i am trying not to apologize so much. yesterday i cried on the train and saw i wasn’t the only person crying. i wanted to say something to her but didn’t know what. my dog can tell when someone is sad, and he piles his toys around their feet.
i take a lot of pictures of dandelions. sometimes i lie on strangers’ lawns and leave grooves in the grass. when it rains, gnats swerve to avoid raindrops much bigger than themselves. two days ago there was a storm, and before the storm, the clouds were a shade of blue that made me think of calling you. somewhere, your voice might be curled in an answering machine. only asleep.
i am going to go outside again.
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Literature
addendum
in the vast gray we are found to be
a craven hydrophilic
mid-formation
    and lacking the proper
         cellular components
to synthesize true bliss
but the pamphlet boasted buxom caches
of ballistic medicine
         so we stumble cleanly off the roof  
    into the great abyss
more ghosts to push their posture
towards a tangible eclipse
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Sharky by ProgV Sharky :iconprogv:ProgV 994 39
Journal
Fabulous Friday Feature 18

Greetings, all, and welcome to my seventeenth
FABULOUS FRIDAY FEATURE
If you've got someone you think should be featured in next Friday's Feature, I AM EVEN MORE DESPERATE FOR YOUR SUGGESTIONS, and I'd love it if you would send me a note with a link to the deviation in question and I'll take a peek ;) I'd also love to hear about other features, particularly themed ones. I'll list those in the bottom section to help spread the word! The same goes for contests or news articles!
Please favorite this journal and pass it on! And if you liked this feature, be sure to check out the one from last week: http://azizriandaoxrak.deviantart.com/journal/Fabulous-Friday-Feature-17-Gardens-351796776
I am ALWAYS seeking donations and nominations for my pay-it-forward project! So far I've been able to donate four premium memberships, and I'm only a few hundred points away from being able to give away another one! I want to be able to donate
:iconAzizrianDaoXrak:AzizrianDaoXrak
:iconazizriandaoxrak:AzizrianDaoXrak 7 11
Literature
in 12 ways
"How do you deal with your heart?"
--M.S.
1.
on bad days i take it out somewhere nice,
i eat for two
while it watches the candles burn.  
i do all the drinking. even though it's wine-colored,
and it knows what the evening costs me, it just watches
the tulip of its glass flicker.
2.
sometimes i wrap it up
in dark crepe for an afternoon and let it fall asleep
with the radio buzzing peaceably
between stations,
or i walk it through the park
with it in the crook of my arms,
wandering between bird-sounds,
sitting near the duck-pond.
or i take it to the theater
where it can smell butter
and watch the backs of people's heads
while the movie washes its noisy blue waves over them.
3.
my heart floats
if i let it.
it splashes in the tub
like a dirty child, the small window open,
letting the smell of trees in.
at the bases of waterfalls
(because i carry it through into my dreams)
it floats on its back with its ears underwater
and watches strange birds disappear over enormous, blue-purple trees.
4.
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:iconantonfrost:antonfrost 20 13
Lay of the Volsungs color keys by Nhaar Lay of the Volsungs color keys :iconnhaar:Nhaar 137 16
Literature
The White Desert
Dawn broke the day
like an egg
on a canvas.
And her eyes
bled a trail
staining that
alabaster sand.
Coming from the arabesque land;
with her ivory skin
and mute screams,
she wrapped me
like their bitter fruit.
And bid me farewell,
pollinating my lips,
then waning in my vase.
I could see her
amongst the frigid flowers
on the windows,
as I entered the white desert,
where people reminisce
of the deaths of other people.
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Journal
Daily Literature Deviations for Nov. 21st, 2012
Guidelines | How to Suggest a DLD | Group Administrators | Affiliation | Chatroom | Current Staff Openings
Daily Lit Deviations for November 21st, 2012
We are proud to feature today's Daily Literature Deviations!
You can show your support by :+favlove:ing this News Article.

Please comment and :+fav: the features and congratulate the artists!
:pointr: For all of the featured artists: If you receive a DD for one
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:icondailylitdeviations:DailyLitDeviations 16 4
A Hard Road to Travel by EveMisterunderstood A Hard Road to Travel :iconevemisterunderstood:EveMisterunderstood 3 2
Literature
Divination as a Means of Finding a Way Back
   1.  I say nothing I am thinking.
For twelve years I have wanted
to do exactly this, but suddenly
pronouncing my own name calls up
the question of who it belongs to
in the same breath Like
Solomon I was born a singer
but in the wrong key and my
chords will not carry me, will not
summon the wolves to me only
packs of hungry dogs
stupid with domestication
but nearly feral And like
a hungry ghost I have learned
not to speak against those
who will give me food
   2. A sketch of myself.
                      He says I must have been born
in the wrong culture, he says. I got a taste of
the crackling heat here, heat to drive you crazy,
and suddenly I open my wide arms for
New Orleans, find myself needing the wind from
the Great Plains. Like a buffalo I have the spirit
of the Sun and I carry it with me. I am a plant
of burnt umber,
            
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:iconazizriandaoxrak:AzizrianDaoXrak 185 111
Literature
BAD WOLF
here is a list of things that you will never know about me:
i am magic
i run through the stars with all the blood in my veins and
the whole of the universe inside me
there is a sun imbedded in my bones that refuses to die,
and a timelord heartbeat that will never stop
not in a trillion years of shattered glass
and fiberoptics;
not with the shaking of continents
and the wars of masters and kings
if you had a skeleton i would pull apart your ribs to use as drumsticks,
pounding that onetwothreefour
into the bedrock of the galaxy until all the minds on all the planets tremble
and everyone to the farthest reaches of space will know my name
here is the marrow of the stars;
it clings to the engines of the last great time machines,
woven into their spiderwebbing energies
and tight inside the fibers of myself,
a pendulum swinging to remind us of our visceral-ness,
the paradoxes of our skins like soil,
across time and space in search of a hand to hold
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Literature
saved you
we died,
they went to san diego
felt like you were slipping so i
took your earthquake hands and jumped
didn't stop us falling through,
and it stung your eyes salty--
promised you didn't cry
the web of is and was caught us
wove a pair of thrushes wings from history;
you promised we'd see will be
and we did, we did;
it was a shell in which you could hear the ocean
but sometimes i realise
that you are timechoked,
pale from the salt baked in you skin and
childish as the rings of saturn wrapped around your pupils
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:iconssleep:ssleep 4 5
pommegranate by cristina-otero pommegranate :iconcristina-otero:cristina-otero 1,493 195 speed paint 13 by sundragon83 speed paint 13 :iconsundragon83:sundragon83 584 46 Math by If3d Math :iconif3d:If3d 8 2 Rapeseed Field by Teakster Rapeseed Field :iconteakster:Teakster 69 19

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chapaV
José Chapa
Artist | Professional | Literature
United States
Chapa V

Current Residence: McAllen, Texas
Personal Quote: Raíz relámpago yo eché y el cielo se partió para escucharme
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:iconkuhane-chan:
Kuhane-chan Featured By Owner Jan 3, 2013
Hello stranger
Reply
:iconlollirotcat:
lollirotcat Featured By Owner Jan 3, 2013  Student Writer
Thanks for the watch! :D
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:iconchapav:
chapaV Featured By Owner Jan 3, 2013  Professional Writer
thank you!
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:icontheresahelmer:
theresahelmer Featured By Owner Jan 2, 2013  Professional Photographer
Thank you so much for adding me to your watch list, i am utterly flattered :heart: ~Theresa
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:iconchapav:
chapaV Featured By Owner Jan 2, 2013  Professional Writer
Me too!
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:iconthesquareroot:
thesquareroot Featured By Owner Nov 13, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
thanks for the watch :XD:
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:iconchapav:
chapaV Featured By Owner Nov 14, 2012  Professional Writer
:)
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:iconazizriandaoxrak:
AzizrianDaoXrak Featured By Owner Nov 8, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
By the way, I should mention: I'm totally planning on including Vishnu Dreams of Marilyn Monroe in a feature because I think it's AWESOME!
Reply
:iconchapav:
chapaV Featured By Owner Nov 10, 2012  Professional Writer
thanks for your nice words :)
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:iconazizriandaoxrak:
AzizrianDaoXrak Featured By Owner Nov 10, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
:)
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