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Literature
After the Storm
The sea is still,
but the salty air still shivers-
the last dregs of anger from the once violent winds...
         after the storm.
The smell still lingers,
driftwood and death-
clinging to the wreckage...
         after the storm.
The cries of mourning hearts,
reach from across the vast expanse-
lamenting sailors lost to the waves...
         after the storm.
Burial at sea,
Davy Jones' locker-
the fear of sailors...
         after the storm.
A cough, a gasp,
an isle uncharted-
forty-two portions of hope...
         after the storm.
:iconPatchwork-Poet:Patchwork-Poet
:iconpatchwork-poet:Patchwork-Poet 1 0
Literature
Swan
Graceful- something I'll never be.
Graceful and beautiful,
lithe as she glides through the waters.
But wouldn't you know,
that beautiful, graceful creature,
began as something different-
She began as something
not quite so stunning
herself.
:iconPatchwork-Poet:Patchwork-Poet
:iconpatchwork-poet:Patchwork-Poet 1 0
Literature
Slight
Just a little bit of my heart,
longs to be noticed.
A faint hope awakes in my soul
that maybe, just maybe
A slight part of you
longs for me too.
:iconPatchwork-Poet:Patchwork-Poet
:iconpatchwork-poet:Patchwork-Poet 1 0
Literature
Sunglasses
Sunglasses.
Black frames sit atop the bridge of your nose,
hiding your eyes, hiding your gaze,
as you watch the passersby.
You make up little stories for them,
put yourself in their shoes.
What is their life like?
What did they leave for this vacation?
Don't you wish you could have one too?
This is the curse of the writer-
Constant company.
The muse doesn't ever shut up.
:iconPatchwork-Poet:Patchwork-Poet
:iconpatchwork-poet:Patchwork-Poet 3 0
Literature
Write or Die 8.1.10
     "I don't like where this is going Hank...I'm not comfortable with this." The man looked around wearily, as if to make sure the area was secure. "They're only kids for god's sake. We shouldn't be doing this."
     "Relax Jim," Hank replied, "they're high-schoolers, if they haven't been exposed already, then we're doing them a favor."
     But Jim protested. "What if they're caught? How do we know that some scrawny high school kid isn't gonna rag on us to the feds? We could be jailed for this, man. We're talking about a highly illegal substance."
     "They're not gonna rag on us, cause they're not gonna meet us, they're not even gonna see us. We drop the goods, and call them to pick em up. Zero contact. Besides, how else are we supposed to get it back out there? The government has no right to take this away from us. Caff is nothin compared to the shit that was illegal when we were ki
:iconPatchwork-Poet:Patchwork-Poet
:iconpatchwork-poet:Patchwork-Poet 0 0
Literature
Changing
Life keeps changing,
keeps moving forward,
and we're just hanging on,
along for the ride.
We're doing our best,
making a difference,
and touching as many lives as possible,
along the way.
Times are changing,
we've only got one chance,
the same as everyone else,
before eternity claims us.
:iconPatchwork-Poet:Patchwork-Poet
:iconpatchwork-poet:Patchwork-Poet 1 3
Literature
Reality
War, hatred, pain... it's everywhere,
     And America never even blinks.
Countless lives are laid down,
     For you, for your freedom.
Death, destruction, insanity... it abounds.
     Soldiers live, and they die,
For you, for your dreams,
     For everything you refuse to stand for,
     Even though you know you should.
They provide- safety, security, freedom.
     And how do you repay them?
                    You don't.
The thought never even crosses your mind.
You tie up your yellow ribbons,
     Boldly proclaiming your support.
But by morning, you've forgotten.
     So much for your loyalty.
:iconPatchwork-Poet:Patchwork-Poet
:iconpatchwork-poet:Patchwork-Poet 0 2
Literature
Graffiti Art
We'll graffiti our memories,
Here on these walls.
Destruction? Or art?
All we want is to be remembered,
To make a difference here,
To someone.
When we're gone from this place,
Years from now,
Making choices, making change,
You'll remember us,
Us and our graffiti art,
And you'll see.
:iconPatchwork-Poet:Patchwork-Poet
:iconpatchwork-poet:Patchwork-Poet 0 0
Literature
The Truth of the Matter
Seconds like days,
Minutes like years,
As we run from the unexpected-
Walking these tightrope lines.
We're chasing the past,
Unaware of the future, and
Missing the present.
All the while grasping for something
        Just
                Out
                         Of
                               Reach.
Go ahead,
Carry on this dysfunctional lifestyle,
Just a little
                               Longer…
S   T 
:iconPatchwork-Poet:Patchwork-Poet
:iconpatchwork-poet:Patchwork-Poet 1 2
Literature
Pachelbel's Canon
She could hear the music begin, as she turned and twirled in front of the mirror, waiting. In a few short minutes, she would walk down the aisle to Pachelbel's Canon, beautiful, steps perfectly planned; he would look at her, and not be able to help smiling. She had been dreaming of this day for her entire life; the day she would finally belong to someone.
There was a knock at the door, it was her turn. As she approached the sanctuary door, friends and family in the audience stood. Soft smiles and tears gazed at her from all sides. Candles and lilies adorned the pews, just as she had wanted. As the music progressed, her feet took her carefully down the aisle towards the priest. Her eyes watched the floor as she prepared herself. He would be there, smiling at her, as he had promised over and over again.
A few steps from the front of the room now, she turned her face upward and gazed at the empty space next to the altar, smile withering. Her world crashed around her as those in the front
:iconPatchwork-Poet:Patchwork-Poet
:iconpatchwork-poet:Patchwork-Poet 6 5
Literature
Loves Me Not
Plucking petals of false hope,
                He loves me, he loves me not
Long lost wishes resurface,
                He loves me, he loves me not
Childish habits return anew,
                He loves me, he loves me not
Destroying flowers for a glimpse,
                He loves me, he loves me not
A glimmer, of that little thing called love.
                He loves me…
                                &
:iconPatchwork-Poet:Patchwork-Poet
:iconpatchwork-poet:Patchwork-Poet 3 3
Literature
Staccato
Hear your staccato heartbeat,
The rhythm of my soul-
Ticking away the moments we share.
Beat by beat, life goes on,
As seasons come and go.
What lasts but love?
Your staccato heartbeat,
Keeping time with ease-
The rhythm of our love.
:iconPatchwork-Poet:Patchwork-Poet
:iconpatchwork-poet:Patchwork-Poet 1 0
Mature content
Lies :iconpatchwork-poet:Patchwork-Poet 1 0
Literature
Love Dies
Love...love is deep, loud and full.
Eternally binding, the melding of hearts.
Wild, free, and reckless it runs,
Willfully urging young passions to flow.
But not this love, not this heart.
Tamed, caged, and broken, passions die.
You pulled, took and tore,
Leaving broken pieces, scattered, lost.
I remember...everything.
Every word, touch, and caress,
Every gentle kiss and whispered affection.
Every night, lost in your arms, your smile.
But love,
It's fickle figure, It's honeyed lies,
Surely you know,
Love dies.
:iconPatchwork-Poet:Patchwork-Poet
:iconpatchwork-poet:Patchwork-Poet 1 0
Literature
Easily Amused
"What've ya got there cat?"
But as the words leave my lips I know.
One black bobby-pin,
Pushed around the vinyl floor by white-socked paws.
If only people were so easily amused.
:iconPatchwork-Poet:Patchwork-Poet
:iconpatchwork-poet:Patchwork-Poet 0 0
Literature
An Artist Indeed
The words stick inside me,
Glued to my mind.
As hard as I try they won't flow.
An artist indeed,
Something's wrong with me see.
What's a poet with words that aren't free?
:iconPatchwork-Poet:Patchwork-Poet
:iconpatchwork-poet:Patchwork-Poet 1 2

Random Favourites

Journal
Devious Minds: Flutterings
Discovering what makes us devious.
PoetryOD :damphyr: :iconflutterings:
How did you first discover deviantART?
:damphyr: My partner, BigYellowBiohazard convinced me to join. I wasn't convinced at first - I was already running www.thepoetryforum.co.uk but I ended up joining, falling in love with it and letting TPF pass on to someone new. :giggle:

What was it about dA that made you want to stay?
:damphyr: I think the challenge. At the time literature was underappreciated in my eyes - it was never on the front page (on the old system)... I started running little competitions for literature only, then they became big competitions, and then I realized my work was hitting the front pages. They changed the system shortly after that so its not a big deal any more but at the time there were people thanking me for reminding the dA community that there was literature on here, and who doesn't like praise? :giggle: I wanted to touch peopl
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:iconpurpelblur:PurpelBlur 41 14
The Lost Kingdoms of Deviantia by FieldsOfFire The Lost Kingdoms of Deviantia :iconfieldsoffire:FieldsOfFire 91 38 Autumn reveals by Sceleton Autumn reveals :iconsceleton:Sceleton 71 11
Literature
Kindness and Greed
The man with the groove above his eyes grabbed Natasia by the wrist. His grimace smelled of vodka and she turned her head to the side. With his other hand, he locked her chin and forced her to face him again.
"You have come here every Sabbath, a pouch of gold in your ragged pocket. How? Where do you obtain it?"
She made a guttural sound of alarm and didn't answer.
He shook her. "Tell me!"
"Let me go!" She struggled to free herself.
By this point, they had drawn the attention of others in the marketplace. Two tall men moving barrels stopped what they were doing and eyed the man ominously.
Moshe let her go. But before moving away, he leaned in and whispered to her. "You will bring me the source of the gold by this time tomorrow, or I will kill you next I see you. And don't think you can hide," he added. "I know where your cottage sits."
That night, she wept at the foot of the owl's roost.
"What is it, my child? It hurts my heart to see you so distraught."
Through her sobs, she told the o
:iconTheBrassGlass:TheBrassGlass
:iconthebrassglass:TheBrassGlass 4 14
Literature
My Name is Elaine
She stood before the mirror, one hand placed against the glass. The other held a washcloth to wipe away her mask. She tried to purse her ruby lips, looking like a tease. Wondering what they saw in her, their touch a brutal squeeze.
First came off the eye shadow, her smoky gaze now blue. Then came the pale pink that stained her cheeks untrue. Finally her lips, no longer the shade of blood.  She attempted to pull a smile, but it turned into a dud.
“Will you still loved me?” she asked her own reflection. “Am I still beautiful, or a doll in a collection? Can you see the truth behind my lies? Do you know the reason for my sighs?”
Unable to turn away without an answer, she pulled off her wig, her head shaven from cancer. The tears that pooled in her eyes began to fall. Tracing her face one last time, she received no reply at all.
Wrapped up in a blanket woven with ribbons of pink, she promised herself not to think. Her shoulders shuddered with
:iconRavensQuill:RavensQuill
:iconravensquill:RavensQuill 0 34
Literature
Pretending
"Help me." His voice was raspy from disuse. His fingers bent from age, his smile long gone. Broken he sat, asking the passers-by for anything.
She pulled her plush coat around her tighter, fighting off the biting cold. She saw him sitting there in the dirt, heard his cry. She shook her head sadly.
"I don't know how," she told him.
"Just pretend you care," came his reply.
"I care," she whispered, sitting down next to him. "I care."
:iconRavensQuill:RavensQuill
:iconravensquill:RavensQuill 17 23
Literature
The Lucky Ones
He was a lucky one. Born five weeks premature, he almost died a half an hour after breathing his first. I didn’t get to hold him right after birth as most mothers do. No, he was whisked away to another hospital over an hour away.  I was able to see him for a few minutes just before they moved him up state. He was beautiful, and I fell in love immediately. It would be almost 18 hours before I would get to see or hold him again.
He was perfect in his tiny form. Little toes and fingers, he smiled at me on the third day. To say I was delighted, well that is an understatement.  It was still so frightening knowing how close I had been to losing him. He felt like glass when I touched him, soft glass. I sat for hours beside his little plastic cradle, watching as he slept, smiling he when he would yawn with that tiny mouth.
His sister adored him from the beginning. He was ‘our Kayden.’ I was so proud of her gentleness and heart. And despite all of our
:iconRavensQuill:RavensQuill
:iconravensquill:RavensQuill 0 44
Literature
hint 87
every day,
go home and convince yourself
that you've never met a woman.
if it helps,
dig a hole in your yard
and fill it with your head.
if you do not have a yard
in which to dig,
borrow one
from a family member
or sympathetic friend.
if you do not have a head
with which to fill your hole,
consider yourself
all the better for it.
:iconYouInventedMe:YouInventedMe
:iconyouinventedme:YouInventedMe 98 141
Requiem for the Broken 2 by joybelle Requiem for the Broken 2 :iconjoybelle:joybelle 23 10
Literature
Requiem for the Broken
She walks the eerie halls
in the pitch black night
Lamenting, weeping
with no will to fight
No light to shine
but her ghostly glow
The house continues around her
as if they don’t know
Just the forgotten blemish
an ice-cold memory
She still bleeds from the scars
but now they’ll never see
Her living hell within these walls
is now eternalised in death
She aches for release from it
with every cursed breath
He’s here again
His new victim younger than before
Not again, not again
now she’s pounding on the door
But human ears
never hear her pain
Her screams disappear
far into the rain
As horrified eyes watch
her history repeats...
Say hi my new friend
there’s your little body wrapped in sheets
:iconLyrica-Lee:Lyrica-Lee
:iconlyrica-lee:Lyrica-Lee 3 6
Literature
With Murderous Intent
With Murderous Intent
We seek out others,
So that we may judge them,
So harsh and unfair
We wreak our own havoc,
And leave them crying,
Gasping for air
We inflame the passions,
Of all those we meet,
We set off reactions,
To gain strength over the weak
With murderous intent,
We so vainly strive,
To hold sway over another,
To convince them to close their eyes
All thoughts on us,
Is somehow what we need,
It matters not what we know,
All that matters is what we perceive
We practice deception,
We grow more skilled every day,
We fight those who stand against us,
Those who get in our way
We assume no-one knows us,
For who we really are,
And we leave behind us bruises,
We leave behind us scars
An all-consuming hatred,
Breeds nothing but the same,
We feel that we are righteous,
When we really should be ashamed
With murderous intentions,
We do things of which,
Nothing more should be mentioned,
All that matters is that we succeed
We, so lavishly self-important,
Stand hard upon those we make bleed
:iconTheseKrimzonFlames:TheseKrimzonFlames
:iconthesekrimzonflames:TheseKrimzonFlames 41 87
Literature
Rise Above
Each of us, every day,
Life gives,
A tiny, unassuming,
Almost insignificant GIFT
It is the ability to choose,
To affect all that we do,
But if it is ignored,
It becomes a gift we LOSE
All of us are born with,
Knowing how to rise above,
Something that to which ATTENTION,
Is not paid enough of
We fall so far,
And so fast,
And we BLAME other people,
For all of our gaffes
When given an opportunity,
We for some reason refuse to LEARN,
And for those of us that choose that,
Our souls ignite and BURN
Passion is our blessing,
And also our curse it seems,
So many don't understand that passion,
Or exactly what it means
When we CHOOSE to rise,
We can truly do anything,
Too many choose to fall,
And to continue to scream
Those that fall are bitter,
They cannot accept CHANGE,
Their only goal in life,
Is to cause others to feel the same
We can rise above everything,
If we will only take the TIME,
Because only we can choose,
The future PATH for our lives
It is no-one's fault but our own,
If we continue
:iconTheseKrimzonFlames:TheseKrimzonFlames
:iconthesekrimzonflames:TheseKrimzonFlames 43 57
Did You Know by PoetryOD Did You Know :iconpoetryod:PoetryOD 99 88
Mature content
birds and bees do it better :iconyouinventedme:YouInventedMe 905 852
Journal
THE LIT LIST: Issue No. 43
If you want to affiliate with The Lit List, please use this http://atrue.deviantart.com/journal/22433997/ which will lead people to the most recent issue. Thank you!
--------------
PRACTICE
--------------
Poetry Prompts
September Prompts from distinctpoetry.
Challenge #42 from PoetryPlease.
:new:Constellations from RawEm0tion.
September Prompts from simplypoetry.
Summer's End from versebyverse  
Haiku from versebyverse
Prose Prompts
Books We'd Like to See R
:iconATrue:ATrue
:iconatrue:ATrue 35 4
Awesome stuff from amazing artists!! You should go look through their galleries!

Activity


deviantID

Patchwork-Poet
Aly
Artist
United States
*My name is Aly
*I'm a recovering self-harmer
*I'm 21
*I live in Michigan in the US, but attend college at Indiana Wesleyan University in Marion, Indiana
*I write poetry, and contrary to my name, occasionally some prose when my muses agree with me.

Email me: poetgirl2010@gmail.com **No, seriously. I'd love to hear from you guys. Introduce yourselves as from deviantART in the subject bar and we can be email buddies!!!**



H.A.N.D. news.deviantart.com/article/75…

Current Residence: Michigan, USA
Favourite genre of music: I listen to everything except rap
Operating System: Vista
Interests
It's been over one year and four months since I left dA. And today, while looking through some old files, I was reminded of this place. The wonderful, beautiful people I left behind, and the love of writing I once held onto. I don't know where I've been exactly. My muses have been very quiet.

But....

I wrote today. =) For the first time in a long time, I wrote something just for pleasure- something that was not a research paper, or an essay. And it felt so good.

I won't be here everyday. Or even every week, most likely. But I won't be quite so distant as I have been. Aly is slowly returning, at least a little bit.

:heart:
Aly

Journal History

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconpoetryod:
PoetryOD Featured By Owner Apr 14, 2014
Thanks for the fave :love:
Reply
:iconpoetryod:
PoetryOD Featured By Owner Apr 14, 2013
Happy birthday honey
Reply
:iconhugqueen:
HugQueen Featured By Owner Jul 16, 2012   Writer
:iconsweethugplz:
Reply
:iconravensquill:
RavensQuill Featured By Owner Apr 8, 2012  Student Writer
I miss you, Aly... :huggle:
Reply
:iconpatchwork-poet:
Patchwork-Poet Featured By Owner Apr 18, 2012
Indie! :huggle:

I was looking through old files today that reminded me of dA, so I got on, and saw this message, and it made me smile. And then, I wrote. And it felt lovely. And I wouldn't have probably done it if I hadn't seen this.

I'm going to be around more now. =) I miss you too.
Reply
:iconravensquill:
RavensQuill Featured By Owner Apr 18, 2012  Student Writer
:glomp: It's good to see you. I've been away for a year, too. And when I was looking through some comments on a deviation, I ran across yours, so I went to check and saw you had been gone for a while. I'm glad you're back. And it's wonderful to hear you are writing again!

We will have to catch up soon. :heart:
Reply
:iconthesekrimzonflames:
TheseKrimzonFlames Featured By Owner Apr 14, 2011  Professional Writer
I know you are unable to be here, but I still want to wish you a very happy birthday. :heart:
Reply
:iconpatchwork-poet:
Patchwork-Poet Featured By Owner Apr 14, 2011
Thanks. :hug: I popped in today to check on the handing over of Dispoe, and seeing these few messages made my day.
<3
Aly
Reply
:iconthesekrimzonflames:
TheseKrimzonFlames Featured By Owner Apr 14, 2011  Professional Writer
:aww: :glomp:
Reply
:iconhugqueen:
HugQueen Featured By Owner Apr 14, 2011   Writer
Happy birthday! :huggle:

:iconballoonplz:
Reply
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