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Passage Necklace no. 102 by sojourncuriosities Passage Necklace no. 102 :iconsojourncuriosities:sojourncuriosities 66 17 Music by ColonelFitz Music :iconcolonelfitz:ColonelFitz 17 29
Literature
The Miles Poem
Some of us went to the swings
after sundown to break the law. My
friend asked me if I was going
to write a poem about it, and
I didn’t answer
there were five of us, and
an extra swing. If you had been there
we could’ve tried to steer each other
away from the poles, lining ourselves up. We
never got to hold hands
so at the playground I held on with my elbows,
palms rubbing my sweatshirt pocket
to keep them pristine
It was a week ago when you
said yes and hugged me like
you wanted to see if I would fit. I’ve always
admired you, but
I’ve never been able to forget that
long enough to remember it again and say it
I was quiet when you told me
how you wanted to travel the world and
become everything, smiling because
you weren’t sure if you should,
and when you put your knees next to mine
in your room like you wanted me to be there, and
the next day when
I found out that you didn’t.
At the playground I traced you
into the woodchips like I was
drawing photographs o
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:iconcynicalxpoet:cynicalxpoet 5 56
Literature
Clean
The feel of you -
apple tart and wet
where we rolled in fresh cut grass,
and traced rain on leaves
and each other.
You taste like what I wanted
but couldn't ask for
and the poetry of your bones
blooms warm and wild
in the bright eclipse of clean.
:iconPoetrymann:Poetrymann
:iconpoetrymann:Poetrymann 100 72
Literature
Miles to Go
I see shadows shifting in the light
and notice there is someone here tonight
but who's the dream and who's the dreamer
who's asleep and whose is the sleeper?
And which is closest to the bed
who dons the wholeness of the spread
as is our homecoming, worn, tired, beat
who requires most, the comfort of white sheets.
the guest at home, and the host at guest,
serving, relinquishing the house's home best,
sequencing to keep the dawn at bay
and night forever a guest to stay.
The hearth is solitary, dark asleep,
my thoughts a silent impenetrable keep
and as I surrender, the hours seep,
knowing to roam, mind wandering slow
I've many a night to bear alone
I've many a night to bear alone
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:icony0urstalker:y0urstalker 5 14
Literature
Wandern mit und Engel
Angel, in deeds
were we no longer to sorrow
but find that we are free
to navigate the sky and the sea,
I believe we could sail into
the sunset towards tomorrow, tonight.
But were we to speak
and bond without the trial,
our hearts stopped but leaked
into the paper airplanes and the beat
your bondage sleeps and seeps
and we stay in the cage for a while, meekly,
we would find the tire
of the heartfelt repitition
slowly birthing, as you sire
wings for birds to bound, inspired,
but as we watch them lopsided fall,
while the thief waits around his fire, hungry.
I speak of hours lost on time,
and fate recalls, it has no meaning,
but mirrored in the souls, our crime,
we stole upon the belfry and let fly,
as our hearts sprang mantra in the clock,
and crumbled blindly, we tried, running.
Dear Angel, were we cursed to wander,
upon the gyres spoked upon the bell,
sounding out the syllables and wonder
what magic speaks in the air torn asunder
were we to want no more but sunsets,
and love enough awai
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:icony0urstalker:y0urstalker 6 17
Endless summer songs by paintspills Endless summer songs :iconpaintspills:paintspills 62 20 Daisy Chain Bangle by harlewood Daisy Chain Bangle :iconharlewood:harlewood 11 4
Literature
The Breath of God
I.
My bones have been like cabinets;
the hinges all dust, wood punctured.
Breathe, hope, stamina (the grains wheat enough to take on
absence, sweat, and nausea) were misplaced.
Their dearth rearranged my skeleton in certain places,
and I stuck out here—sunk in there.
The nonexistence was pushy—
bored with the fractures,
ignorant of setting the bone.
I was ignorant of setting the bone, too.
Mirrors were poor reflections,
wasted glass, unable to diagnose.
I was intact. It appeared
that way. The angles spoke of it—
they expressed the wholeness of body. Sure they did.
They did.
II.
It spoke of other images, too, the one image, mine—
like silverware sticking out of me obnoxiously,
unkempt and gray and sharp, with no regard for
kitchen scars.
But I was still flesh—still, I had
eleven ribs, eight fingers, two kneecaps.
                 And my marrow
had air pockets.
:iconSoothingAngel:SoothingAngel
:iconsoothingangel:SoothingAngel 165 66
Literature
months of the year.
october:
was when i met you.
we were in a coffee shop. it was stuffy and crowded, but it smelt like hope and the coffee was decent.
you sat down next to me, quietly, and neither of us said anything as you watched my coffee get cold.
'why?' you asked softly.
'i don't like getting burned.'
it's a shame i ended up getting burned anyway.
--
november:
i had this incredibly eccentric neighbor.
she put her christmas lights up at the beginning of november. i never understood why.
most of the lights ended up dying by december.
and then i thought of the lights as the important people in my life, and i thought it was ironic how, in the end, they always ended up dying or leaving, too.
--
december:
the first night it snowed that year, you brushed my hair out of my eyes and smiled. i asked, 'what are you smiling about?'
you said, 'i know what my new year's resolution will be.'
i asked, 'what?'
you said, 'i'm going to be more careful. my goal is to not break anything out of clumsiness.' and suddenly,
:iconAmertie:Amertie
:iconamertie:Amertie 86 179
Literature
stopsigns.
we are in the front of your car
and you tell me all these stupid
things about how i am one of two
people you care about. you drove
all this way to apologize. you think my
hands are beautiful and i am saying
bullshit bullshit bullshit and you are looking
at me like you used to.
-
i picked up the phone
and all i wanted was you
all i want is you.
-
i am caught in pine needles and thumbtacks,
and i am going nowhere.
-
:iconaeronautics:aeronautics
:iconaeronautics:aeronautics 56 14
Literature
Gratitude
I spend a lot of time alone,
keep my thoughts to myself,
smile at passing strangers,
weep in the dark.
My people don’t want
to hear anything more
serious than a chance for rain
or Chili’s for lunch,
my yawning sadness
a threat to their happiness,
a door to doubts they
dare not contemplate.
But you listen when
I cry, understand when I’m
drowning, when I can’t
see tomorrow.
You’ve kept me afloat
when I wanted to let go,
to sink into the brown
comfort of oblivion.
It calls me still,
a velvet seduction,
but I will hold on
to your voice
and try to
be grateful
for another
day.
:iconBlueskye27:Blueskye27
:iconblueskye27:Blueskye27 32 56
Literature
new truths
your words slide down
my back like a lone finger
marking a trail
and I shiver in the
heat of your voice
and its assurances
the secrets you whisper
fall on my ears like
muted blasphemies
verities of the flesh
forever hidden
from me
until now
teach me
fill me with
that which I do not
know, pour yourself into me
like a sea of
knowledge
and let me
decide for myself
what is
true
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:iconblueskye27:Blueskye27 31 62
Literature
cold kisses
I walk beneath
a leaden sky,
the sun
lost
cold mist
falls on my
cheeks like
chill kisses
and reminds
me why
I run from
you
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:iconblueskye27:Blueskye27 40 94
Literature
Ghost
Once upon
a time,
I lost my heart,
stolen by
a thief who
distracted me
in the dark
with sweet lies
and opened
buttons.
I drifted,
insubstantial,
until I found my
heart again,
abandoned
beside a
country road.
I picked it
up and put
it in my pocket,
took it home,
washed it
gently in warm
water and
No More Tears
shampoo, and
put it back
where it
belonged.
It hurt at first,
its pounding
loud, working
furiously
to infuse
pale limbs
with rushing
blood, alive,
but the pain
passed
and I smiled
in the afternoon
sun.
Then you came.
And my poor
heart, pilfered
once more,
is lost again.
But this time,
as the
warm flush
fades,
I’m determined
to live
without it.
:iconBlueskye27:Blueskye27
:iconblueskye27:Blueskye27 58 116
Literature
beached
like a mermaid who
sought the sun,
she reached for
the impossible
and even as that
child of the deep
gasps out her last
stranded in the
muds of low tide
she dreams of
what might have been
and rues not
her choice
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:iconblueskye27:Blueskye27 25 74

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prairiedaisy
flightless bird
Artist | Literature

flying is learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss. -
douglas adams
can't ever escape the draw of the emotions i left here.

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:iconmelancholy-colonist:
melancholy-colonist Featured By Owner Mar 9, 2014  Student Writer
looking back after all these years and your poetry still leaves me stunned. hope you're doing well, wherever you are
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:iconprairiedaisy:
prairiedaisy Featured By Owner Apr 8, 2014   Writer
sometimes i look back and it makes my jaw drop that i could have ever written something that still feels like a punch in the gut, even after all these years.  and coming from me that would be biased, but from you - that's real.  so thanks, so much. :heart: 
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:iconschelly:
schelly Featured By Owner Aug 28, 2013  Professional Photographer
Thank you for :+fav: :icongwomp:
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:iconprairiedaisy:
prairiedaisy Featured By Owner Aug 31, 2013   Writer
you're most welcome!
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:iconexillior:
Exillior Featured By Owner Aug 28, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for the :+devwatch:! It's much appreciated.
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:iconprairiedaisy:
prairiedaisy Featured By Owner Aug 31, 2013   Writer
No, thank you - for writing that piece on the lady with glioblastoma multiforme.  I just wanted to let you know that her courage didn't go to waste, because it touched me deeply and gave me the courage I needed to pursue funding for a graduate degree loosely related to oncology.  And I owe you an enormous thank you for that, because in a small but significant way, you changed my life.  
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:iconexillior:
Exillior Featured By Owner Sep 3, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
I'm glad to hear that you have been motivated to do this! I hope you receive the funding and can go ahead!
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:iconpoetries:
poetries Featured By Owner Mar 16, 2013
This is somewhat late, but congrats on your DD, Wendy! :highfive:
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:iconprairiedaisy:
prairiedaisy Featured By Owner May 1, 2013   Writer
thanks doll! how are you these days?
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:iconpoetries:
poetries Featured By Owner May 4, 2013
You're welcome! I'm doing well, thanks! I'm looking into work so I can start school, and I'm also planning to move back out again, hopefully soon. How about you?
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