pseudokojo's avatar
will find time to procrastinate.
11 Watchers7.6K Page Views150 Deviations
S
Scrannel
Sometimes words of honey And at others, those of pitch. A cold trickle of water, Or perhaps a rotten abrasion. Words themselves remain impartial. Only the candy-coating conveys The undercurrent. So that meaning can still be found In the baying of my rasping throat. Even when the flow comes jagged As it does in this faltering poem.
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W
Ween
We've had it wrong for years, and we should never have Forced so many children Into the cold realms Of philosophy. Such tiny hands Only really ever produce Sophistry and Solipsisms. Worthless.
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S
Sweven
Umm, excuse me? I am way too waspy for this. Boiled potatoes, stewed beef. That is more me. I find your headdress tacky and Outmoded. It reminds me Too much of smallpox blankets. And anyway, shouldn't I be seeing Wings and clouds and Jesus? This is the third impertinent perversion Of God's number, you know. (The first being Lucky Number Sleven, The second being the name Steven.) You should just let me sleep.
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P
Point-Device
It demurely shakes off the paleo-dust, A little callipygian, verbal beast. A coquette of syllable recognition, And some long interred desire. A fire I'd grown inured against. Some arcane tongue sprung up Between the cracks in our modern language. It matches a need I have, quite point-device, Rolling ball, blank ink, point: extra fine. Come here, little darling. I won't lose you again. But the world sees only your awkward corners. Come home with me, And let me run your hyphen across my lips. Never be alone again, until I die.
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G
Garboil
Confusion begets amusement Turmoil is tumult, bemusement So this discarded word, This jumble of garbage and earth-blood, Suits this situation better. The waves pass from the brain, They become garbled. The resultant friction from scraping Static signals evokes distress in me. I've grown a spoiled, hard-boiled garboil.
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M
Midgets with Guns
There is a small cannon in my mouth That hurls sharp words at you, But lately it's not been properly calibrated. The words only crash into my teeth And crumble into docile poems.
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I
I Swear I will.
I will burn you out of me. I will find every interstitial pocket of you and fill it with gasoline and napalm. If I can get the flames hot enough, The flesh will cauterize. I will lose skin, but not my blood. And if this new scar tissue Hardens the soft meat of my ventricles, You can breathe softer. I will watch as the Rough, pink claws Make their mesh across me, And add texture and complexity To a once simple joy. I will let others wonder At the geometric patterns Now rising out of my chest. But my dreams Betray me in this.
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T
The Softest Snake
Slinking, silk-wrapped thighs Softly snaking around my lingering sighs. Precisely what knowledge Does this apple offer? Wrap me in your wings. Downy or leathered, it doesn't matter. I'll lend you my heat. Spinning webs fill your eyes. My sockets are filled with hazel flies, So you have my attention, Oh subtle daughter. Perform the coup-de-grace. I'm ready. I'm willing. I'll wait.
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T
Today, I am composed.
Today, I am composed Of corded muscles, love, and scars. I feel like an oaken core. Life starts with an effervescence, But these oscillations slip wider Each year and shake loose the taught wires. The quivering energy Becomes more of a jiggle, really. However, here is the most danger. Minds and emotions remain keen and Added to the bitterness-honed blades. The loose jangle will send cuts flying If momentum seeks to topple the system. In time, though, the bearings will grow Over-worn, and the swaying ocean Will find its tides tied into eddies. Today is where I am, But I remain transfixed As deep-pink tissue roughs my skin. I
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T
Titian
(AKA The Popular Themes of Life and Love Annotated in Copper Ink) Dawn spreading gentle fingers, Tickling trees slathered with the colors Of Autumnal flesh. The tone of the hair On a Rust-Curl girl. The same hue of steel Being hammered into formed function. The color of those fireworks With the second-stage showering sparks. What has come to me now as Carnival-glass spheres, reflecting Distorted images of memories and Descending slowly into deepening darkness Like bubbles blown at dusk. However, I'm trying not to embellish, So it's simply the titian glory In a sunset that signals The loss of another day.
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See all
11-04-03
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A
A Far Cry from Boston
     When I arrived in Boston, it dawned on me that I may have taken a wrong turn.  The sky seemed gray and overdrawn, not quite covering the sky.  My hair seemed overdrawn, too.  I stepped out of the lime green and rusted Pinto.  A beautiful car, especially if you like a nice warm backseat for your friends.  If you have any.  I started out on this trip fresh-faced and eager... A photo plate for the world to impress itself upon.  Well, that's what I ended up with, a nice negative of the world.  Blacks where whites should be, whites where blacks should be, grays all out of order.       I don't even know anyone in Boston, why did I even come
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C
Connection-Disconnection
We walk in fine lines, Melodies that exist in our strengths, Harmonies in our weaknesses. The chords we create together exist on many planes. They draw us together in a unified sound, But at times that sound is discordant, And it throws us from one another. But rhapsodies and symphonies alike Have heavenly strains and stressful vistas That seep from their audio plays. A minor strain is as beautiful as a serial arrangement. Discordancy tells as important a message as harmony, And every bit as valid, every bit as necessary. Wagner knew this, so did Mozart, Strauss, And even the singularly known Pachelbel. A play of only soun
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M
Metacognition for Sale
Platinum images in my mind form eloquent phrases in my heart.  They seem lost in translation to my hand.  My hand misinterprets these thoughts, or simply lacks the finesse of a porper interpreter and instead of accurately realating the ideas, it replaces complex combination of letters with droll and unimaginative lines.  Such a waste, such lethargy.  Though syntax and grammer hold to their sacred vows in each passing line, the magic that once had the flair of all colors in my words has drained away into a colorless miasma of dimwitted prose and verse.  The vox of fantasy is wired shut, and all joints have frozen stiff.  The iron of inspiratio
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A
A Vocation
A vocation Composed only of roses Meant to carry The weight of the look in your eyes, But they're really Only stems Settled beneath the snow.
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C
Cheshire
Voice in the darkness Calling out a name Confronted progress And a pint's worth of shame False smiles, turning inward Turned away Desolate miles And the dried, crushed, clay New form, voice, hide Hide in the lies of yore Turning inward Cheshire voice A voice without a face No substance A lost cause without a case Run away, afraid Afraid of redemption Drive away To kill the pain Lost in darkness Voice in shade Hiding what true Emotions made Cheshire girl Alone, sweet world Saving her pain Hidden emotions Never come through A voice in shade Hiding you Shut out the world And isolate Steadwise, shun the darkness A
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B
Born of Sleep Driven Minds
Like the winter wind, it flows effortlessly. In the darkness it cries out its desire to be free. And the hewn white stone calls recklessly, "Follow Me". What pretension of everlasting peace, That everything must cease. I hear its persistent  cry of vanity. Calculated, quickly, carefully It forces me off my feet Silently. An exhalation of triumph found; A more living truth expounds.
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S
Serenity
Open sun, fields of white, Lapping waves, sense of light, Symphonies unveiled, sweet mercies show That anywhere I choose to go Will be a world this bright.
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A
At the Mind's Edge Grasp
Summer stars fall from the sky. Jaded memories fade away Beneath the ponderous weight of time. And as light falls from above, There's nothing else for me to think of But the time I left you alone With aught but the time and light of day. There's more Than this I'm sure, But I miss it every time that I'm away.
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Maud
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The Conservatory
6
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Nocturne
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Boomsday I
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4
Suki and Azula
107
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The machine - 02
The machine - 02
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The Mind's Garden
337
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Wind
302
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c4d_212
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its just a shot.
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United States
Deviant for 16 years
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Llama: Llamas are awesome! (3)
La la la
I have been gone a while.  I have written some things in the interim, but am a bit too lazy to put them on here.  If you are curious, some of it is pretty good for me, I think.  You can find it at: http://mostlyuntitled.blogspot.com/ I will be updating here as I write more in the future.  I might even get unlazy and copy over those poems to here.
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Regarding a lack of updates.
I have been withholding new poems from DevArt because of licensing issues dictating that I cannot simultaneously have them here and submit them for publishing in a particular literary magazine.  I don't know whether you care or will even notice, but once the ones that I have set aside for publication are either published, rejected, or I have decided against submitting them, they will go up on DevArt.
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Which describes you best?
  |  2 votes
  • Raccoon: Night creature with a powerful curiosity that usually gets you into trouble.
  • Transformer: More than meets the eye.
  • Transformer: Often attached to a telephone pole.
  • A different transformer of the same type as the first transformer here listed, but a different instance of it: Just plain silly.
  • Shiny object: Wait... Why am I even here, and how did I get here?
  • Wood fairy: Small and winged? Magical.
  • Wood Nymph: You should really keep your feelings about that maple to your self, okay?
  • Wood: Not much to say here, I guess.
  • Woman: Cute. Like a kitten or something. A kitten with very sharp, sharp claws.
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Comments66

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lesahra's avatar
I never know how to compliment poetry. I can't say "nice poetry," because that is only trite in comparison. So I suppose I'm left with "I read a few, and I like what I read."
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pseudokojo's avatar
haha, well thank you. That is really the best anyone can expect.
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movinkindaslow's avatar
movinkindaslow|Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
Much thanks for the WATCH..:D..it's really appreciated. Thanks too for the FAV:D
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Porcelynn's avatar
Porcelynn|Hobbyist Photographer
Thank you thank you stranger, I hope your boredom leaves you!
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schrodingersnextcat's avatar
Appreciate all the nice feedback.
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fufuthegreat's avatar
Hey, thanks so much for :+fav:ing my photo!
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dragoncharmer02's avatar
Hey, it's been awhile I hope that everything is going well for you. I haven't really been up to much creatively lately. Been to busy with grad school.
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