Welcome to another volume of Over the Moon, a growing collection of literature and talented deviants! I encourage you to and these pieces and authors and take a look through their galleries!
Over the Moon: Poetry + Prose (Volume #18)
Itsy BitsyThe spider crawls in,
I can feel it in my head,
It whispers to me.
When the sky falls down,
I'll greet the moon and sun
Let them know they're not alone,
they have been wonderful
When the constellations blur and merge
into one speck of dust
It's won't surprise to me,
all is often pulled from under us
Grimy selfish sticky hands
Wandering starlight in no loving dance
Pining for hedgehog dilemma,
Grudge down to those stairs to
where you waste away
Marry into where your thoughts must waste away
Serial experiments, 731
Nanking in awe, delirious
Divisive Adelaide, what,
Adles brain cells,
Vipers hone their fangs,
of ultra states, a higher purpose must be reached some,
Frozen hearts now charcoal tension
Displaced by the yellow fogs
Rot, insects turn skeletal
All cultures prying bogs
Gris gris in you hand and verses in your heart
It's been inevitable, wouldn't know where to start
So we pull out incisors and hoard
Organisms, long and all
Anything to survive
Even if it means to stare it down
Oxidationas a child i favoured poster paints
then i grew into acrylics
but i never developed the patience for oils
my preferred medium starts warm
and congeals quickly
drying crimson to mahogany
a fading autumnal stain
monument to blades and broken promises
To My DaughterTo My Daughter,
I’ve watched you grow from a tiny peanut into an incredible young lady. You’ve had many adventures along the way. Some easy, some hard but all of them meaningful.
I still remember the first time you asked to use my typewriter because you wanted to make a story of your own. I had to tell you not to pretend smoking my cigarettes before you gave your grandmother a heart attack. I remember when you asked for a fountain pen (with orange ink because it’s your favorite color) so you could write like mommy.
I’ve given you every tool I can scrounge up because creative writing is something that burns in my soul and if there’s one thing I can pass on to you of mine, it will always be the desire to create, by whatever means you can.
We write. We draw. We paint. We watercolor. We embroider. We craft. We create. You do these things because it’s fun. I do them becau
NavidadMy heart was once the Santa Maria
ready to conquer the waves
and explore the unknown
until it crashed in rocky waters
But you salvaged the scraps
shaping beauty from the wreckage
and carving a love letter into the bones
until it stood steady enough to hold its own
Huck and BobHuck’s best pal a big branch. Huck no clan, no man buds. Huck in a hut with branch best bud. Branch no well. Branch Bob. Bob Huck’s new luv. Huck big grin. Bob no words, Bob no fuss. Huck and Bob no ring but Bob in bed with Huck. Huck no lack for child. Huck best with just Bob. Bob no fuss for child. Bob no word for Huck’s stiff rock, but Huck’s rock in Bob’s branch butt. Huck’s smirk wild. Stick stuff on Bob. Bob best luv, best than man luv. Bob no tiff with Huck. Huck no sad with no clan. Huck rock no stiff. Sky dark. Huck’s next luv long naps and hugs. Bob best hugs.
Sun in hut. Huck no naps. Huck no grub in hut. Huck and Bob hand in hand in tall grass. Bob best for elk or big cats. Bob no fit for birds. Elk in sight. Bob up with wind. Elk’s cry sad but now Elk grub for Huck. Bob best than man in hunt. Huck's lips for Bob in a kiss in hut. Elk grub for a few nights. Huck in hut with Bob for long suns and long nights of hugs, luvs
Hunting the GoatsCold, windy with snow on the ground and tendrils of mist snaked around the countryside making things look as if they were from a horror movie.:thumb765818068:
War awoke and got hold of Hades bridle, telling the impatient tokota to stand still while he put on a special harness, one which he put on his sturdy bow, flint arrows and a skinning knife for dealing with the prey.
He scratched under Hades chin, the tokota which had originally belonged to another had been through an awful lot passed from pillar to post and had been used in fighting before he came to the realms of Skoskar, War needed another mount and seeing as this tokota seemed to have a more fiery nature than Pyrros he snapped him up.
Hades respected his handler would obey him which was surprising seeing as in the past he would have snapped at anyone who came close, still he was very much wary if someone approached his blind side.
He nuzzled at War with a tenderness which was not usually seen in such a feral and violent tokota, his tail waggi
Insight OutLady, give me your blindfold:thumb765818068:
let me balance my heart on your scales
I carry a cancerous pain years old
eating my body, my spirit, the flesh pales
cold as a ghost I dig my way from the grave of the past
I must see myself as I am, blindly objective to my crimes
no more a pallbearer, a buried corpse at last
succumbed to the suffering ten-folded a thousand times
Lady, give me your sword, let me strike this slight from living!
No! Do not take my borrowed time away!
I need the borrowed courage, the filtered view to be unforgiving!
Lady, do you not see this angry child, discourse and dismay?
His life is condemnation for self-confessed acts of leading others astray
mayhem and pain, spreading suffering compounded and petty acts and lies, he is the root of all evil inside the barren tree he has grown to be
Lady! I implore you! I beg you! Strike him down, decisively with your sword, measure the bark of his shell against the heart of we,
Lady! I plead of you! Finish his towering! He deserves no mo