dreamsinstatic's avatar
A Literary Revolutionary
1.1K Watchers216.2K Page Views513 Deviations
D
Does She?
Her nails a deeper red than the tint of my dreams in which she whirls and bends with skin a darker shade of lucious that leaves me thirsting to drink the salty spray from the rolling waves of her undulating hips. Ghosts of memories in mid-decay stand as stalwart scoundrels, barring gates that could lead into the fervent flavor of her kiss, a gracious collide of bodies I can only fantasize.... The tilting motion of her neck, the angle of her chin, if her tongues whirls and darts or teases at the precipice of desire with coquettish glee or the intensity of a hunger begging to be satiated. Does she feel the electric atmosphere that sizzles an
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Proofreading
She is pure light, unbound and without a hint of shadow, gleaming down the street in a way that makes everyone notice. She gives it away for free, this intangible something because she doesn't know she has it, and none of them can define her, but they all desire. I'm watching from behind the dusty glass, and I know her everything, the fine print that they cannot read because the pictures are too beguiling. They don't want to know the details, they just like the image, the shell in which she's kept, but I love the scars they do not notice, and the pieces of her she tries too hard to conceal. Every day is a game of hide and seek, she hides
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S
She Forgets
I write these words for the one person who won't read them; Swallow the black mass deep into my chest where pain radiates like cold water flooding into my heart. I cling to fragments of dreams as they begin to fade, holding tight to memories I treasure, ones you've cast aside without even the courtesy to burn them, and me. I feel love like a hammer hard against the ribs, my veins still pump pure fire for your name, while you grow cold and forget that I exist. In the darkness of every evening I speak to a God that I doubt more than I believe seeking answers, digging for the slightest sliver of hope as you dream of other names and faces fore
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U
Unspecified
I still see her, the ghostly vision of what once was the figure that shaped a universe for me. Dark hair and eyes a subtle shade of sunet stare out at me from corners of memory that refuse to subside. Whispering words to empty spaces, wondering if stars can transmit the signal from my lips to her skin, if she still recalls the sound of my voice. Endless questions hang unanswered, the chaos of a heart unsure of where it longs to beat, and I exist only in a blackened space she chooses not to see. Somewhere between the cynic and the dreamer, I swing from dark to light trying to decipher why a love alleged to be so strong could be abandoned s
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B
Battle Feel
White skin on fire, black waves of madness come whirling in when the sunlight shivers, cowering behind the specter of mountaintops. I breathe blue smoke and gray pain, swallowing capsules of memory, swigs from a dirty glass with an amber glow. She stretches a day out for weeks. Broken clocks, with empty bottles scattered on a dusty counter and she keeps track of time by the bruises collecting on her legs, the darker the shade and the redder the sting, the longer since the day she shut down. Dry lips shape the same words, gifting them into a darkness that cannot reply, two shifting figures curling into broken shapes, jutting limbs and eyes l
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S
Savior
I've watched you since before I knew your name, this whirling glow of brilliance and beauty and a laugh that can seduce anyone within range. This growing distance burns, a dying star caught between our shapes, and though it scorches and scars, my eyes have never shifted and I watch like an adoring fan does his favorite film. And I see the darkness that has closed in around you, but I know I cannot pull back that veil, its a battle you must wage for yourself and I can do little more than witness. So I press my palms together, and whisper into a universe which once responded, and though I long to beg for your touch, I bargain for your joy, a
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H
Hello
        The first time I saw her was one of those moments you think are only real in movies, banged out on the typewriters of men in business suits and fedoras who have long since faded into memory.  My breath caught in my throat and I thought, for just a moment, that I was going to have a panic attack.  As it turned out, it was the first subtle clue that there was something about her which would forever tie my fate to hers.  A chance encounter, just two people working the same crappy job and yet it would eternally alter my path and change the course of my life.        She was wearing a white shirt, and her dark hair fell around her face in
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Passed
We began as strangers, two sets of eyes watching from across the room. She was scintillating magic, dark hair rolling in waves like a perfectly carved mahogany frame gently kissing delicate porcelain cheeks. We became lovers, tangled like bedsheets in the morning, where one begins and the other ends was lost somewhere in the shrinking spaces between parting lips. She was ethereal, a body like smoke that whirled around me, but that I could never grasp so I just breathed deeply to drown my lungs in her infinity. We became strangers, when she pressed my heart between the pages and closed the book. She walks like a temptress through my mind,
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S
Stand
Ben E. King and bourbon, a dark room and a cluttered desk with a glass ashtray, dry lips and aching fingers. The ghosts of memory come creeping in, and the shades of those better times, blend into a single shape upon the wall. And in the unmistakable darkness I confront the pieces of me that I most desperately despise. I'm not a good man, a broken brother and a worse son, a flawed figure shapeless and lacking definition. And my mouth knows your name, but fears to speak it for I wasn't a good lover either, and I am painfully aware. Here in this empty room, this empty chest, I swallow smoke and choke on the billowing numbness of discontent
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S
She
Why must it hurt so much...... To have been in your bed and to now be floating somewhere outside of your atmosphere.... Does love surrender like a soldier beneath a white flag or does it writhe and rage, scream like an archangel angry and hungry to persist..... I can hardly breathe and yet I continue moving because stillness doesn't bring me any closer to you..... A stone man with a human heart and a begging ache I'll crawl through the mud and choke on ashes and dust just to get another glimpse of the light you beam.... And yet you may strike me down and cast me aside, one more memory erased and another replaced, a ghost exorcised and fo
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See all
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Endless
Memories so visceral I can still taste them, like the salty sweet wash of your skin after a slow morning run in the dancing summer rain. Eyes a shade of amber, golden flakes glowing in the warmth of a crackling fire, your lips parted like an envelope I'm aching to seal. Words whispered silently, a tender glance exchanged, an undulation of emotion, a burst of color and a blast of light, two lone figures unite. Hands in the dirt, knees in the slushing mud, battle weary and fatigued, I trudge step by step toward the peak of this moment, a banner raised, emblazoned with your name. For I'd rather die on the hill, swathed in the regalia of my d
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O
Odds and Ends
A cup is just a cup until it's the last cup that she touched, and a car is just a way from a to b until it's the way that she arrived at z. A picture in a frame is lovely to see, even if only ever viewed in the background, passively, but when the image locks in place the last smile on her face then your grief turns to regret for the memory trapped beneath the glass. An old pair of slippers, tucked neatly beside the door, stepping over every time you cross the threshold, until the day when you have to toss those old things away and they are as heavy as anchors and more treasured than diamond. A scent that fills your head, the comfort of a f
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A
A Samurai's Dream
Bent bamboo stalks, a single bead of rain shivers, slithers down, a serpent of green and blue. Dusty skies tremble, a storm threatens the orange sun in the voice of whispering phantom winds. Emerald blades quake, footfalls light as a feather treading forward, the ghost of a wolf howls behind cloudy eyes. Two figures, shapeless and unmoved but for the billow of cloth, the breath of the wild. Steel pierces stillness, a blur of silver slices swathes of sky, gray and blue ribbons smeared in red. A sunset veiled in shadow, one silhouette stands stalwart in the vacancy of two. A stifled gasp, iron hands clutch the hilt, a figure bows and the
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S
Stone Walls
Innocent eyes take me into the cradle of their warmth and I can breathe in the amber warmth of their gaze. My heart burns in the red Autumn of dying leaves speckled in their mirrored stare, allowed to feel only in the darkened solitude of a pupil. A warm breeze becomes visible in a flutter of lashes, still chocolate seas skipping stones over my white hot skin. Fire simmers in my veins, a silent seething sense of soul ghosting in my flesh, exorcised by a single, glazing glance.
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A
Aphelion
I sealed my doors, bolted tight the windows and locked the shutters. The wind screams, a banshee cries upon the hill, some vague swathe of white billowing against the night. I wrapped myself in burlap, packed my ribs with leaves and moss but still my candle has blown out. In darkness I spark the wick but only sticky ash stains my fingertips. Waiting for the cold, dry revelation of morning, no light dares traverse my shivering horizon. She shrieks a lamentation, I unfurl my bones and surrender to her vengeful sky. Asphyxiating on dying stars, coughing up only blackness from the hearth of my chest, long bereft of light.
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Y
Yesteryear
I keep reaching back for the illusion, the dream I dreamed that never was, the life I lived but was never born into, the breath I took, so real, never taken nor tasted by a liars tongue. The skies were bluer than, a shade I haven't seen since teenage eyes turned upward and basked in a memory of blue so blue it buzzed in black, gilded by a hidden sun I cannot quite recall, a tender light stuck between my bronze skin and the ashy pavement. Future fantasy imprisoned in a memory, as flawed and dusty as an out of print book shelved in a moist cellar, the print is smeared and pages torn, I squint to read the lines but I'm filling in the blanks of
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C
Contortionist
This skin doesn't fit anymore, pulled taut over bent and jutting bone, sinched at the back and pinned tight to the spine. Bent and broken, yet unbowed, flat, shapeless images pass before unfocused eyes unwilling to accept the light. Squeezed tight within this box, the dirt keeps pouring down, a dark rain hourglass filling deflated lungs. Unsolved riddles tattooed to the plain of my tongue, I can taste them but their flavor goes unidentified -- spoken words signifying nothing for lack of translation. A tombstone etching, lost to time, torn pages and smeared chalk, black hands brush clean the cover of my story untitled and unpublished -- A
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P
Palpable
Piano stirs the storm beneath my skin, fingertips ascend the scale, roll slowly from a bleached bone to the scorched ones and I am moved. Poetry pours into my head, silver sparks scintillate between the synapses, color flashes in darkness as sound explodes in bottle rocket blasts and I am discovered. Panavision lenses depict my dreams, grainy green grass cuts an emerald swathe at magic hour, and I am borrow their memories to fill the blank spaces I occupy and I am reborn. God dwells in possibility -- impossibly a ghost of supposed truth, this voiceless phantom I can no more hear than the hush of a broken promise I made to myself, and I am
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S
Slush
Dusty chalk sidewalks slant, slithering beside the serpentine stretch of an ashen avenue. Clotted clouds loom, smeared blots sludging through the gloom of a monochrome sky, long deprived of pigment. Evening light attenuates, pale beams gush from the dying cinders of the charcoal sun. Steel strands intersect, a wire web of tangled knots, signals lost in the sizzle of static snow.
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T
Together
The last day, frost melts from broken lips, rusted shut in the shape of wishes unfulfilled. A blessing and a curse, all moments lead to one, a thousand greetings buried within a single goodbye. Rain taps a metal lid, the sun cannot warm the cold sealed within and we commit our hearts back to the dirt. Tomorrow is promised, but we are not all going to see it…     Not together.     again.
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Odds and Ends
A cup is just a cup until it's the last cup that she touched, and a car is just a way from a to b until it's the way that she arrived at z. A picture in a frame is lovely to see, even if only ever viewed in the background, passively, but when the image locks in place the last smile on her face then your grief turns to regret for the memory trapped beneath the glass. An old pair of slippers, tucked neatly beside the door, stepping over every time you cross the threshold, until the day when you have to toss those old things away and they are as heavy as anchors and more treasured than diamond. A scent that fills your head, the comfort of a f
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Nov 29
United States
Deviant for 11 years
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Commission Artwork and Trace Evidence
Hey everyone!  I am looking to have some artwork done for my podcast!  I have a very specific idea in mind so I need an amazing artist who can pull it off.  Who would you recommend from dA?  Please comment some amazing artists so I can reach out to them! For those of you who aren't aware, back in May, I started a true crime podcast called Trace Evidence. Over the past three months I've been growing it and expanding it and at this point it's becoming larger than I thought it would.  So far I have written over 100,000 words over 15 episodes.  It's not poetry, but it's nice to be writing something. If you're interested in checking it out, I c
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Check out my true crime podcast::  Trace Evidence
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Podcasting
So.  I haven't been around much.  There are several reasons for this, but most of them are boring, personal stuff like work, school, etc.  There is one reason which is actually pretty exciting for me... I started a podcast! For a long time, I've been fascinated by true crime, predominantly the unsolved areas of it.  This began at a young age for me, I grew up watching a lot of Unsolved Mysteries on TV and it always stuck with me.  While other people think about areas of their life and stressful situations when they can't sleep, I'm running over case evidence in my head and trying to figure out what happened.  My podcast focuses mostly on uns
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PennedinWhite's avatar
I know you aren't around much these days, but...

Happy Birthday :cake: None-the-less. :heart:
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specialized666's avatar
specialized666|Professional Interface Designer
Hello,
 Have a great day :D
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Ultimate-Psycho|Hobbyist Photographer
:iconthxforfav:
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The great Baguette bids you warm greetings, and waves you into the crispy temple of enlightenment ...


Thank you for the support! <3 Please feel free to click on the stamp above and ask the most pressing of questions
to the Benevolent Baguette. He will ensure you receive a response most worthy of the question.
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Larathain's avatar
Happy birthday! May it be a day of perfect weather and joyful bliss! One you'll enjoy to often offer reminisce.
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Kay-March's avatar
Hope that you'll have a good day on your birthday full of inspiration and poetry.
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