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About Literature / Professional Senior Member Omri J. Luzon36/Male/Israel Recent Activity
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A Letter of Love to a Lover of Letters :iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath 3 4
Literature
In the Syllable
...then there is a way in diswaiting.
Dust some yellow sand covers,
here uncover bare bedding.
...suffusing red planes, blushed dunes,
under incidentally quilted blanket
wet as arid curves, as sounds.  
...in a persistent pavement,
in a solemn unsuited promise,
some written words erase
some letters drip and soak
unto a perfuse miracle,
a dislocated split,
a letting go of...
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath 7 3
Literature
A Letter
A Letter
This letter will never be sent there’s no resending
nor ascending from the sands in which it drowns
scent soiled sheet in the soft desert sips
down its folded throat down its written
tongue won’t swallow dry as winds
slur over puff numb with its ink
drawn eies and sluing grains
and motes of dust for
all things that
crumble
grit.
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath 0 3
Literature
I Do Not Love
I do not love. I do not love.
I do not love these things which love I ought
For love, in love, despaired my thoughts
And colored them unwise, and since
Descends my sense and bends to faults
Against the rhythm of my waltz,
So salts my pine an endless wince
And simmers so 's a sinner-wits
This sinner's soul-essence
That love in love un-ends.
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath 1 5
Literature
Toast and Coffee
I forget our little important things, like
the way you like your toast
     (butter on one side, sugar sprinkled)
the way you like your coffee
     (black, strong, half-filled cup, a drop of sweetener)
or the way you like your sex
     (as hard as love, as sweet as figs).
I forget little unimportant things, such as
the movie we saw last night
     (the one with DiCaprio and the cops)
the meeting we had with the doctor
     (and you hate the doctors, in their white robes)
the dinner we had by the shore
     (fat steaks grilled on a burning fire).
Maybe I forget them little things,
but, you know, when things are gone
they pass along to some forgotten
realm, where the toast and the coffee
are making love.
I can imagine them love dripping memories,
being all that they are, bite after bite,
consumed, devoured, digested,
and gone. Temporal as r
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New ID, new Omri??? by leoraigarath New ID, new Omri??? :iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath 2 11
Literature
A String of Thought
From time to time, as
my sightless eyes witness
(I fall) and remember -
I remember my me.
There's no-here-point,
nor a true false-salvation
as a self-persuasion
of an identity, as
from this grace grave-
yard of eternal worship
rises an I, an I
now is me.
No-long-pride (lost its magic),
nor a sane self-redemption.
To the endless thoughts
of an endless nothing,
to the eternal bursting
of the finality of death:
     This, is home.
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath 1 3
Literature
I Am Lost for a While
I am lost for a while,
spread as butter over starlit night,
shying in the coal mine, where
the charcoal paints my face black.
I wonder if the melting color
defines my slouching thoughts,
or the frightened low crouching
behind the stern masking self.
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath 2 7
Literature
Chicken, Chicken
Chicken, chicken, in the loo
How I wish to have a clue
As to what in there you do,
Chicken, chicken, in the loo.
Came a morning with wet dew
Giddy wind the curtains blew,
In my ear it whispered – "Wake!"
Such a splendid way to take
A sleepy boy out of his dream,
With shining glitters of sunny gleams,
And carried it the roses scent
From the garden down the bent.
The coffee brewed by its own wish,
The toast, the butter – already dished;
The jam spread thin, the eggs cooked fine -
What morning can be more divine?
Wiped my lids of sleepy dust
I noticed of my bladder's thrusts
And knew it's time to set it free
Before the dew on my pants be.
Off the bed and stretched my limbs
I frisked and skipped and held the stream,
And reached the door to fill me bliss
O no, there something is amiss:
Pressed the handle – it was locked,
I don't recall I had it blocked…
Then rustling sound, a strangest scene,
There must be someone there within.
At first I knocked (one must do so),
But an
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath 2 10
Literature
Everland
bleak is my mind, as the coffee warms atop the stove.
     let me fly, he sighs, holding tight his umbrella, to the everland.
he praises the motherearth and the fatherdeath.
     to the everland and the worshipped sun and the moon
and all the holy things which the bible prescribed
as a cure for the flu and the terrible moods.
I am angry with the headaches, such a turmoil they stir
     in the cup. he refuses to dine and refrains in such abstinence,
almost a father which has read all hail merries in the world
     about a thousand times over again and the lord did not lend
not a careful ear. it is the storm, the probable storm,
which brews in the everland, it will pluck our tongues out.
it is the moist of the earth: the pomegranate-grenade landing
     and bursting into millions of babies, all pink and screamy
as petals which tear-off of the mother's sepals.
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath 5 4
Literature
The Durra Pipes
The durra pipes as reed-flutes should  
When western winds go rampant wild,
It bows its head in absolute
Submission to the durra's tide.
It grows around a cromlech tomb
Where heroes blessed the blood-drenched ground
And know it not the plough shall comb
Its beauteous, lone, carefree sound.
If she'll come she must be listening, Faith.
If she comes she must be listening, Faith.
If she comes, she must be listening, Faith,
For if it's right – 't must be Love.
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath 3 8
Literature
Blue Nuns in a Barren Land
The work of God,
they say the word of God,
is the finger of a mountain crushing
an evergreen forest, as a thumb put-places
the page; a bookmark made of eternity that forms the Now.
And if you disagree, as some authoritarian would,
place your page upfront, with all its words,
and let them choir as all choirboys do
before the unpleased crowd
of Me and You.
The shades will grow, we both should know,
for all deliberate things do so.
The grass will feeble by the wind,
so the wrath of His nose maketh it low.
And in the midst of crowing fiends
where Gehenna's gape is wide and grim
a blue trail 'll form of heads held high -
the taciturnly nuns will glide by.
No man is right
prior ere of deeds,
but he who dares to
cross the river Styx by rowing
naked with no fear of remorse in his heart.
That is the man which Zeus feared most,
that which Thor-thunder's arched before
and grounded at the forest deep,
where evergreens grow wild
and proud before the mountain.
The boughs stretch ad infinitum
in such
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath 3 8
Literature
Prosody Guide
Here's a short and limited guide to prosody. Thought it might be helpful. Let's start with few terms:
Rhythm - refers to the natural rise and fall of the voice when something is being spoken or read aloud.
Meter - comes from the Greek word for "measure," is used to describe a regular rhythmic pattern that operates throughout a given poem.
Cesura - is a strong break/pause in the middle of a line.
Scansion - the act of determining the meter of a poem by marking the stressed and unstressed syllables in its lines.
Accents - (Stressed syllables) are marked by a slant line above the syllable (/)
Slack Syllables – (unstressed syllables) are marked in one of two ways--either with an x above the syllable, or with a mark that looks like a somewhat flattened u.
Blank Verse - Unrhymed iambic pentameter. This is not what is known as Free Verse! Blank verse is usually divided into verse paragraphs, which are of different lengths (unlike stanzas w
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath 18 10
Literature
Pas ce Soir
     Don't you wish me dead
With all this sensitivity spewing out my fingers,
     Braiding your hair sticky green, and jealous
          As a fountain of joy.
L'envie, you said, elle rayonne la gloire lumineuse
     Autour de votre cou épais et rouge.
And these sparkly ears gloat
          Much, up your peppery nose, cresting in your orifice.
     So superficies, don't you feel oblige?
     The white t-shirt,
Spineless as a worm, letches to my skin as to a nipple.
      Très vous, you slide your nails underneath it
          Your mouth tilde-bends, Du lait aigre-doux.
Yesterday we caught a white dwarf shining in the cornflake bowl,
  
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:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath 6 9
Literature
The Beech of Winter
Winter came, its fingers cold
     down the autumn spine.
That tarry name spelled-out
     again, again as mantra do
     for leaden eyes, while the body
          shakes.
Coat of chaste hid the lilies, as they
     chest-worn comforted Death.
There - mounts of dust; dust snow-piles, with
     old familiar smell, mesmered
     the yearn of letting
          go.
     
One step failed the clouds,
     two steps failed the past,
and with the third - lone beech deciduously
     exposed her bosom to the night
     and let the stars cry unto it, and
          weep.
Her reddish hair in flames denounc
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath
:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath 11 11
Literature
A Souvenir of Tasteness
Everything which is life, is made of a thin layer
of an approximation to confusion.
Both our fingers, interlocked
Make a souvenir of tasteness,
to relish and delight in an embarrassment
limited to only you and me.
On this bench, we browse through slow photos,
sea-salt drenched-photos, moving sideways
from your cuddle to my inability;
words, tongues, all tied up in that which is
of greater possibility to please. As summer marches
down off the shore,
traveling the thick old stones of Neve-Zedek.
This is Tel-Aviv, in the first light of morning,
encompassed in everything which is Life.
Crude and coarse, as a dozing bulldozer,
I roll past antiquities of renewed sentimental value;
So clumsy of me,
my ears are as fearful as a little child is of words,
long complex sentences of few words,
dreadfully limping atop wine-stained lips.
Damn all these foolishness!
The train moves fastest as it slides out of a turn.
Still, you turn to astonish me.
Bare and defenseless I wash in your light
as the frig
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:iconleoraigarath:leoraigarath 5 11

Critiques


This is the kind of poems that makes my skin crawl. Beautifully written! Amazing usage of imagery - "listen to your organs: the almost ...


"i was alone from the second he touched my jeans, from the second i felt his hands on the bare skin of my stomach. i am alone in rooms ...

by Exillior

Romantic voice. The first thought that came to me when I started reading it. There’s something about a romantic voice that colors entir...

by xutomu

Sometimes the little things that make difference are the most important one. It's the way the waves intertwine with the movement of the...

Random Favourites

Shed Some Light -

:iconliliwrites:
LiliWrites

It has been a while since I've updated this section, but it is more than fit to pick this back up with a talent that really deserves the spot. Introducing LiliWrites, an honest and talented voice on dA. In reading her words, I cannot think of a more perfect description than as she herself writes - "wispy", which means "a bundle of sticks or paper sometimes used as a torch", as in "will-o'-the-wisp", a ball of light in the darkness, originally made of a bundle of papers, writing, words. Illuminating words.

I would like to let her words speak for me by placing few fragments here for you:

From Unborn
"...She rips the hair from my pudgy fingers and piles all of it in a large glass ashtray my father doesn't know she still uses inside the house. She rises from the table. Her long earrings sway just above her shoulders like the pendulum in our grandfather clock. "

From my poetry is broken.
but the fight is mere gesture,
one last brittle tradition to break
before surrender.


From on the nature of scars
When I was a child
I admired a tree my father planted
on the same day I was swindled
from a warm womb.


I am waiting for --- 

30%
3 deviants said A good excuse to do something worthwhile.
30%
3 deviants said You to get your ass moving, leoraigarath, and do something with your DA account.
20%
2 deviants said The Messiah, of course.
10%
1 deviant said The Great Llama to unbadge and become the world's greatest leader.
10%
1 deviant said A bad excuse to do something worthwhile.

Wishlist

I Love You by PoetryOD I Love You :iconpoetryod:PoetryOD 121 42 Metamorphosis I by ThisYearsGirl Metamorphosis I :iconthisyearsgirl:ThisYearsGirl 476 73 Metamorphosis II by ThisYearsGirl Metamorphosis II :iconthisyearsgirl:ThisYearsGirl 314 38 Metamorphosis III by ThisYearsGirl Metamorphosis III :iconthisyearsgirl:ThisYearsGirl 388 34 Metamorphosis IV by ThisYearsGirl Metamorphosis IV :iconthisyearsgirl:ThisYearsGirl 718 89

Friends

Devious Journal Entry

Journal Entry: Mon Feb 6, 2017, 11:20 PM
40: New Skin, New Form... Help Wanted!


So... I'm in dire need of a new journal HTML theme + graphics. I have the general direction, but I'm in a dire need of a designer to do this for me... My HTML skills sum up at "hey, if I delete this then... oh... that's not right... !"

Anybody knows somebody who can help me in designing this journal thingy? :)

Thanks,
- Omri




Fort-Da

:new:Gerard Hadad - Eating the Book

This is one of the most fascinating reads I experience. Not just for being a Jew, reading about Judaism and psychoanalysis. But also because Hadad's analysis is so rich and in-depth, accurate and clear, that it draws you in page after page.


Resources for You

:bulletgreen: Literature Groups List
:bulletgreen: Resources On the Side
:bulletgreen: Aditi's Amazing Resource Central
:new::bulletgreen: Prosody Guide



  • Listening to: Muse - Black Holes and Revelations
  • Reading: Lacan - Seminar XI
  • Watching: Scrubs
  • Playing: Journal editing...
  • Eating: Coffee.
  • Drinking: Whiskey again

deviantID

leoraigarath
Omri J. Luzon
Artist | Professional | Literature
Israel
Interests

Quote of the Day

"But just as all neurotic symptoms, and, for that matter, dreams, are capable of being ‘over-interpreted’ and indeed need to be, if they are to be fully understood, so all genuinely creative writings are the product of more than a single motive and more than a single impulse in the poet's mind, and are open to more than a single interpretation."

~ Freud

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Comments


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:iconladylincoln:
LadyLincoln Featured By Owner May 16, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Happy birthday, dearheart. :heart:
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:iconpennedinwhite:
PennedinWhite Featured By Owner May 16, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Happy Birthday! :cake: 
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:iconliliwrites:
LiliWrites Featured By Owner May 16, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Happy birthday, Omri! :) 
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:iconlexissketches:
LexisSketches Featured By Owner May 2, 2015
Just stopping by to say hello :hug: Have a wonderful day!
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:iconthebloodwriter:
TheBloodWriter Featured By Owner Dec 10, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Hey. If you ever come here or anything, you are still my favorite Deviant.
Much love. Hope you are still writing, making music, and being an amazing artist.
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:iconlintu47:
Lintu47 Featured By Owner Dec 24, 2012  Hobbyist Photographer
Merry Christmas! :santa:
:iconbradut2::iconfur12:
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:iconneurotype:
neurotype Featured By Owner May 21, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
:poke: start being alive again, quick!
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:iconbirthdays:
birthdays Featured By Owner May 17, 2012
:woohoo: :party: :iconcakelickplz: !!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!! :iconcakelickplz: :party: :woohoo:

On behalf of the *birthdays team, I sincerely apologise that your greeting has arrived late this year.

We hope you had an awesome day with lots of birthday fun, gifts, happiness and most definitely, lots of cake! Here's to another year!

Many well wishes and love from your friendly birthdays team :love:

---
Birthdays Team
This birthday greeting was brought to you by: *Cheezyem
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:iconvigilo:
Vigilo Featured By Owner May 17, 2012  Student Writer
Oh no, I'm sorry about the belatedness, but happy birthday! :party: :heart:
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:iconhugqueen:
HugQueen Featured By Owner May 16, 2012   Writer
:tighthug: Happy birthday.

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