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Literature
Rapid Cycling, Part II
It descends again,
Heavy and engulfing,
Dragging feet and drooping eyelids,
The flurry of beings gets faster as my world slows down.
Cement flows over my shoulders and suspends me in a sea of apathy.
The yoga chick has a white punting dog I hate, yet I love her.
There’s always something to kill the dream, the ideal.
Seventeen candles soaked in virgin blood are stapled to the base of my skull.
And I sit, words sliding down the back of my throat
refusing to come out with any meaning.
Hundreds of snapshots float around a map of the world,
Remembering everything I want to forget,
Forgetting everything I want to remember.
For better and for worse,
Dawn never pierces the horizon.
:icongodsawait:godsawait
:icongodsawait:godsawait 1 1
Literature
Rapid Cycling, Part I
It’s like a dog in heat
Don’t even try to shake it off
Just settle in and get ready for the ride  
Surrender as soon as your eyes open
Because when it leaves, the struggle for survival is back on.
Push the pedal all the way down, stand in the open sunroof and scream
Turn the dial all the way up, dance until you fall to the ground
Let the words flow freely, tripping through the thoughts racing in your mind
Shine with the brightest stars, fly into the secret night
Watch your inhibitions drop like petals from your flowering soul
Release your fears into the rushing current of the river and savor the gliding drops of your life.
Run faster, jump higher, smile and mean it  
Breathe without trouble, laugh, live
Believe that you are a deity
Because you are.  
For those few days, or hours, you are invincible
This is why you live, this is what you crave
This is you … the part that doesn’t hurt …
As long as you don’t think about the crash
:icongodsawait:godsawait
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Literature
Vacancy
Swish, swish, swish ...
Constant rhythm
Fairy dust rainbows dance in sidewalk clouds
Floating gently around thin slippers and her worn housecoat
Swish, swish, swish ...
Arms as thin as the broom handle
Around the corner, back again, around the corner, back again
Feet shuffle as the sun moves across the sky
Swish, swish, swish ...
100 years packed into a life of 65
Three times widowed
To patriotism, the bottle and a brown leaf
Swish, swish, swish ...
Parchment skin clings to frail bone
Lips set in a straight line drawn far beyond the true boundaries
Wafts of chicken broth and Malt-O-Meal mix with stale perfume
Swish …
Silence.
No more fairies.  No more rainbows.  Only dust.
Vacancy.
:icongodsawait:godsawait
:icongodsawait:godsawait 0 2
Literature
Blue Light
Beyond my eyelids
A new blue light has appeared
Peacefully being
:icongodsawait:godsawait
:icongodsawait:godsawait 1 17
Mature content
Specks of Sex :icongodsawait:godsawait 1 16
Literature
Yeah but ...
Adrenaline rush
Metal and honey on my tongue
Arms wrapped around solid flesh
Weaving through a sun-dappled canyon
Crossed legs tucked under a leather jacket
Speeding through dawn-lit Parisian streets
Thoughts vanish into the wind
Life in trust on the back of a bike.
:icongodsawait:godsawait
:icongodsawait:godsawait 1 19
Literature
Screaming In Watercolor
My heart beats softer now,
the blood floating heavy through my veins.
The tempest screams, screams in watercolor,
and the golden curls of the pacifist bob gently,
in exaggerated movements but slower than normal.
All of it is muted.
My responses are similar, I’m sure,
but less pointed, less poignant,
and sometimes they don’t even leave my raw throat.
It’s the drug, I know, and I hate it and want more at the same time.
My eyelids are heavy
but the pounding has slowed and the edge is gone ….
drifted into watercolor screams, which could last all night,
floating softly around my mind.
:icongodsawait:godsawait
:icongodsawait:godsawait 0 5
Literature
Life's An Illusion
Life’s an illusion
Love is a dream*
Banging drums against iridescent tile
The golden sheen of forgotten past lives
enters again and again, disguised as voices.
I’m right.  You’re wrong.  I can accept that; can you?
The blue light comes and goes.  
It’s a tease, like the carrot behind the veil.  
You knew this all along.
Don’t hold anything.   You’ll scare it away.  
Don’t be honest, ever, especially not to yourself.
Playgrounds aren’t for playing;
tables aren’t for dancing;
lovers aren’t for fucking.
Sit quietly and nod your head.  
No one will ever know.
:icongodsawait:godsawait
:icongodsawait:godsawait 0 17
Literature
A Day to Die
It was a good day to die.
A bright purple sun weeped through sewage-filled clouds,
turning the pedestrians green.  
The crack-head girlfriend snarls and pulls him back in through the decaying door,
Destinies determined by a lighter and a spoon.
Keys turn, sparks fly, coveted engines race from felt-lined cubes.  
Brakes shriek, a helmet crushes and another life
dissolves into an asphalt coffin.
Grass crackles beneath swollen rainbow feet,
sticky with salt and sand from years past.
“This bouquet has too many thorns.” she says.
“You know your blood is my life.” comes his reply.
The violet sunset reflects off his blade,
blinding her before the ruby flow reaches her eyes.
The End.
:icongodsawait:godsawait
:icongodsawait:godsawait 1 21
Sneezing Flower by godsawait Sneezing Flower :icongodsawait:godsawait 1 2
Mature content
Judging A Book :icongodsawait:godsawait 0 13
Literature
When We Were Young ...
Rain on my skylight, directly over my bed.
I push the window open farther so I can feel it misting my face.  
Eyes closing, I remember the summer rains of my childhood afternoons.  
…. flagstone baked hot by the sun released a mist as the cool drops began their gentle dance.  I’d run outside, changing into my bathing suit if I had time, and lay down on the stone, letting the rain cleanse me.  I’d lay there until I was soaked and my mind was clear.  Often the sun would come out and the rain would continue, ensuring a rainbow to add to my delight.  Then I’d stay until the rain stopped and the sun dried my body.  But sometimes the flagstone cooled down too quickly or the rain became too fierce; it was then that I’d jump up and rush into the house.  My brothers were usually there, having watched with amusement.  Their confusion would continue as I dripped my way through the ho
:icongodsawait:godsawait
:icongodsawait:godsawait 2 11
Literature
I Need a Miracle
Tie-dye saunters by
Permeating patchouli
Transports me through time
:icongodsawait:godsawait
:icongodsawait:godsawait 1 5
Dew on Leaf by godsawait Dew on Leaf :icongodsawait:godsawait 1 0
Literature
Map to Utopia
Excuse me please, could you tell me how to get to Utopia?  
See, I used to have a map and I seem to have misplaced it.  It was in really good shape about 10 years ago, but then I moved in with some guy and it got misplaced.  When I moved out, I found it in an old box and it floated around my new place for a while.  It started to get stained with red wine and resin, so I put it in a drawer to keep it safe. Then I took a new job and the map got buried under piles of paper, out of my sight; when I quit the job and started writing again, the map reappeared and I pinned it up on my wall.  My band started getting an occasional gig and I checked the map to make sure I was going the right way.  I was.  When I realized I needed more money to pay the rent, I started working for a big company during the day.  The map fell completely off the wall at some point, but I couldn’t really tell while stumbling around wit
:icongodsawait:godsawait
:icongodsawait:godsawait 2 8
Literature
I Miss the Mountains
Smog settles in on daily basis
Slightly less dense on the weekends,
but only slightly
Infiltrating lungs, stinging eyes,
Clogging pores and mudding up minds.
Most of them don’t even notice anymore,
Don’t see the smog as the lid,
keeping them in a little box
Where they scurry back and forth
Their breath having been stifled for so long,
They don’t even know it’s missing.
:icongodsawait:godsawait
:icongodsawait:godsawait 1 8

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Into the room constructed with femurs and
Packed to the roof with the smell of flesh.
Our fingernails are scalpels; these blades do the licking on the tongues of Mr. Brendan's dogs,
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If she could see Mr. Brendan's dogs as they lie
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deviantID

godsawait
United States

Activity


How I feel sometimes ...

Sat Oct 11, 2008, 8:14 PM
Once I had a little game
I liked to crawl back into my brain
I think you know the game I mean
I mean the game called 'go insane'
Now you should try this little game
Just close your eyes forget your name
Forget the world forget the people
And we'll erect a different steeple
This little game is fun to do
Just close your eyes no way to lose
And I'm right there I'm going too
Release control we're breaking thru
Way back deep into the brain
Back where there's never any pain ...


Doors -- Celebration of the Lizard
  • Listening to: Raindrops
  • Reading: DA submissions
  • Drinking: Water

Comments


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:iconsjfbetty:
sjfbetty Featured By Owner May 18, 2009
.:.:+fav:.:.thankYOu.:.:heart:.:.
Reply
:iconamy--louise:
Amy--Louise Featured By Owner Jan 9, 2009
Hey :poke:

February is Haiku Writing Month- you should join in the HaikuWriMo with us!!

Do it.
Reply
:icongodsawait:
godsawait Featured By Owner Feb 19, 2009
Maybe I'll try to catch up in March. As you can see, I haven't been active on DA so far this year ... so many changes in my life. But I just starting writing again this month and will have even more time in a week or so.

Hope you are well; I'm sure you've contributed sufficiently to the number of deviations waiting for my review. :)
Reply
:iconbogbrush:
Bogbrush Featured By Owner Jan 5, 2009
Cheers very much for the :+fav: on 'Strangers on a train II', most appreciated :)
Reply
:iconapplepieskies:
applepieskies Featured By Owner Dec 29, 2008
thank you for the :+devwatch:

:heart:
Reply
:iconyouinventedme:
YouInventedMe Featured By Owner Dec 18, 2008  Hobbyist Writer
thanks for the :+fav: on pick a catchphrase, die alone


xo!
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:iconfaeriecrone:
faeriecrone Featured By Owner Dec 9, 2008
thanks for the fave ... :frail:

interesting Doors piece ... in the journal.
Reply
:icongodsawait:
godsawait Featured By Owner Dec 9, 2008
You are welcome - I really like it.

And .. yes, it is (interesting).
Reply
:iconfaeriecrone:
faeriecrone Featured By Owner Dec 9, 2008
Jim Morrison was an interesting creature. I read an unauthorized biography years ago. And I grew up on his music. Do you listen to the Doors much?
Reply
:icongodsawait:
godsawait Featured By Owner Dec 10, 2008
Was it "No One Here Gets Out Alive"? Yes, the Doors are one of my go-to bands for almost any mood. Reliability, combined with new meaning depending on my life at that moment. You could say I grew up on his music too, but in a different time frame, and most likely in a different way.
:peace:
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