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Beautiful

B

Beautiful

Beautiful , achingly so.  “sea,” you could say and between each crest I would see your eyes slivers of lashes, downturned. “ CRACKLING MOON VISIBLE ON THE EASTERN SEABOARD,” I see tick below talkshow. here is an imagined forecast : clear skies, scattered stargazers until dawn milks the dulcet night sore from crystal sugar deposits centuries accumulated in your mouth ( is this shore like the moon or the horizon ? do you know?)  in the corners, ruby gums, shining cavities likely this evening when a low pressure front locates the pliers for loosening — another dream of pearls in a whirlpool,

April.

A

April.

i. modern sensory. one: hoop earring shimmers deep in the cut of city light as she stands the chill of thin fabrics, the other just sang thru the slats, clinked off the top of the subway car below her feet, passing; day gone by in best threads and ten triple C tablets; look she gets from all passers-by of her in cold, in a dress, high… the one that increases intensity with each wrinkle under the eye; and echoing thought of mother, reminding how many zeros were in the cost of the last pair of heels daughter stole and wore, then ruined or lost while out. two strikes: of middle class protesters over prime sidewalks that have led to

The Age of the Wasp.

T

The Age of the Wasp.

There is heavy noise in the other room and my head bounces full of heavy heavy weighted things that I wish I could tell I know or knew.  The building feels flatter and flatter beneath my tired shoes and I release air with difficult pushes out into the still gentle a/c that tickles over my arms, a goodbye from fair weather, a rattling doorknob. I kissed you and then, for a different goodbye lightly brushed my hand on your face and neither could have kept me warmer. I will always be in the twilight even if the sun somehow stopped the earth and returned me back to June, to the hopping / hotel rooms and the / rippling island of sidewalks a

Fragment 2

F

Fragment 2

conventional development of a memorial out of bland symbolism and a "contemporary" sensibility involving phallic steel work + endless dematerializing glass or untreated raw roman concrete like the effigy we were too self obsessed to set on fire we were saving for the long absent libido

Sonar

S

Sonar

Honestly don't know Where the Hell is Our light house, stood up On fallacies of rocky coasts Awaiting night time liners. We turn days, years over Nights that swim thoughts With wading tidepools And deep ends oceans old, Unspecific. Past points In existence where photons whir To silhouette Earth's tumbling Bowling ball. Light houses stood up like pins At lane ends, each of us Soon ricocheted, collapsed into Guiding lights. Honestly don't know Where the light house We eyed with curious fear A serpent more afraid and prostrate Than us, than its cobra raise Or rattle might entail, a tower made Derelict by global position Is.

The Elderly.

T

The Elderly.

cover the elderly in flowers and florals and go ahead and give them their architecture their hollowed fluted columns covered in vine ivy vines and corinthian florets and vegetal forms. give them doors. closing and opening at their focus and at their "remember the opening of the memorial highway?" how they could now borrow suzie's husband's pickup any old saturday and be there in half the time to the endless heaven of open marketplace can buy anything there in a peace of mind haven treehouse in the blood jungles spilt nectar and flies all about just let the elderly have the joy infants get coming in with comfy strollers and expectant ch

Abandoned Robotics.

You Asked for Even More.

Y

You Asked for Even More.

Here is all I can give Today the blank hedge of clouds Pitter-pattered out of the room On toddler's sticky feet-- Did you ever guess how incomplete The breathless moments of ardor Might be?? I labored over the black Cauldron of love & being In crimson love with pretending Do the flags flap around like so? Or was I without comparison, My dance Hindered by my blood & sexless Indecision, my steps not sobered But certainly Not drunk enough yet Not to say regret out loud Or to scrape the bottom of the trash Bag for rancid sicknasty leftovers Of the clouds prickling behind our kissing Necks, stretched and strained Out for the next guillotine rain

Trajectory Echoes

T

Trajectory Echoes

I cannot lose what I have lost, I’m forced to apple bob For sinking fruit, dense in vinegar. Deeper in the barrel, Until I’m the bullet that makes it clean through. I still land on the floor, Trajectory echoes Ripple my skin until it is metal Screaming in the night time Into and back out of the sweaty adolescent basements below. I won’t make it to the phone Until I’m retconned Until a different sentence rattles chains in my chest Until momentum, until no more I will always slide toward the valley In the winter, and feel it coming Right around Halloween. The horror Of one year ago: me, being happy and in love While

Cinderella

C

Cinderella

Waiting for a coach and four that never came, she realized a ball gown won't bloom out of sackloth; glass slippers are not dependable and mice are best left to their own devices. Midnight was never a friend, and under that suit he is the same as any other man.

Daily Literature Deviations for July 14th, 2013

Daily Literature Deviations for July 14th, 2013

Guidelines | How to Suggest a DLD | Group Administrators | Affiliation | Chatroom | Current Staff Openings Daily Lit Deviations for July 14th, 2013 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 of your pieces featured by DLD please note LiliWrites (https://www.deviantart.com/liliwrites). We will include you and your piece in a special recognition news article. :pointl: Poetry Suggested by: xlntwtch (https://www.deviantart.com/xlntwtch) Featured by: lion-essrampant (https://www.deviantart.com/lion-essrampant) Cinderella by :de

Cheats

C

Cheats

The light makes cheats of us both, so we change clothes in the greedy dark without looking 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 each other in buildings'reflections, in the glare of taxi cabs or the stiff pull of elevators. We do not rub elbows or let our shoulder blades press together. But I would know you anywhere - any place the sun is uneasy and the skin of us wears thin or strangers are told to breathe in another direction.

Fantastic Feature Tuesday #45

Fantastic Feature Tuesday #45

Please  this news article so it will reach a larger audience! This is a weekly feature of amazing literature that I come by during my travels across deviantART. This is only a small sample of a vast amount of wonderful pieces of literature written by absolutely fantastic writers. Each deviation was carefully selected from a writer's gallery based on structure, impact and word usage. I will never feature the same person twice (though this gets harder to keep track of now that we can change usernames), so check out these lovely writers now while you can! :thumb346955554: :thumb352834909: :thumb366614072: :thumb362008636: :thumb367176199

Spotlight

Spotlight

Lucid Sleep Ten.

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Artist // Student // Varied
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My Bio
Living life out of focus.

:heart: DD's: p-a-r-i-a-h.deviantart.com/art… :heart:

DLD's: fav.me/d3ga058 & fav.me/d3h5p41 & p-a-r-i-a-h.deviantart.com/art… & claytonwoolery.deviantart.com/… :heart:


My Mission Statement: fav.me/d4j57b7

******* L O V E * T H E * L I F E * Y O U * L I V E *******

Current Residence: Misery (MO)
deviantWEAR sizing preference: well fitting
Print preference: paper
Favourite genre of music: Alternative | Modern | Punk | BasicallyAnythingNotCountry | Ask me!
Favourite photographer: veronica24 | deszcz718 | panicprone
Favourite style of art: innovative
Operating System: My Brain (It's still on windows 95)
MP3 player of choice: iPhone 3G S
Shell of choice: Elephant Shell - Tokyo Police Club
Wallpaper of choice: Who needs wallpaper when they can paint?
Skin of choice: soft
Favourite cartoon character: FLAPJACK!
Personal Quote: Goo, goo, goo, lil swin-fef

Favourite Visual Artist
M. C. Escher | lv21fish | Bongo | Irene Hardwicke Olivieri | Gustav Klimt | Frida Kahlo
Favourite Movies
Films by: G. Del Torro | Q. Tarantino | D. Boyle | K. Bigelow | Wachowski Bros. | W. Andersen | S. Jonze | D. Slade
Favourite TV Shows
LOST | Adventure Time | Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Los Campesinos! | Tokyo Police Club | Grizzly Bear | Andrew Bird | Animal Collective | Panda Bear | Battles | Baths | Regina Spektor | St. Vincent | Broken Social Scene
Favourite Books
0The Metamorphosis | Madame Bovary | For Whom the Bell Tolls | The Picture of Dorian Gray | On the Road (Kerouac)
Favourite Writers
Allen Ginsberg | William Burroughs | Ernest Hemingway | Oscar Wilde | Mark Haddon | Sapphire | Franz Kafka
Favourite Games
(pokemon) / (all nintendo canon)
Favourite Gaming Platform
Wii
Tools of the Trade
paint, pen, paper, canvas, body
Other Interests
Love | Happiness | Spirituality | Swedish Fish | Art | Sleeping | BOYS!

What sort of crap I'm writing.

What sort of crap I'm writing.

I've decided that since many people seem to express confusion over my poetry (and rightfully so,) I thought I'd come forth to explain myself and my intentions and my desires when I'm writing a poem. Things that I am interested in when writing: 1.  I am interested in referential knowledge.  I write almost entirely in appeals to other poetry, cultural events, musical trends, or personal experiences.  I am interested in the idea of exclusive experience, that this poem can hold simple and almost redundant meaning for myself and one other person, but might hold a wealth of abstraction for you.  Abstraction is as beautiful as definition. 2.  I a

Winner of First Floor's Urban Competition

Winner of First Floor's Urban Competition

The winning deviation is :thumb320239420: by ~FallingAsleepTonight (https://www.deviantart.com/fallingasleeptonight) Congrats! :iconfirst-floor-poetry:

My Work Published by Squawk Back Magazine

My Work Published by Squawk Back Magazine

My recent work, "Unrestricted Headspace," was just published in the e-magazine squawk back,  which i am a huge fan of and still can't spell on my first try.  a link is hidden here >> http://www.thesquawkback.com

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happy birthday, have a wonderful day :heart:
claytonwooleryStudent General Artist
thanks!
PoetrymannProfessional Writer
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claytonwooleryStudent General Artist
ok
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