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Deviant for 14 Years
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On Parabola
With subatomic subtlety settling on his brow,
he said 'Time's a broken arrow
that points from then to now.'
Once a grain, I entreated him
to stop this flow of sand,
'You're immersed in the irreversible
until, entropical, I land.'
In that glass all is hours,
the busted bucket and the spade,
and each collapsing castle
that our spilt ice cream made.
Since his hands are tide
we can all be shore,
when the sediment slides
there is no more.
:icontearstone:tearstone 95 61
To Alice
Child, the sharpened pencils
hold art in scattered shavings.
Each line crossed by colour,
every smudge
or smear,
is why you are painted
on pages framed in here.
Child, the time spent seeking
(first words, then understanding)
is held within your laughter
and shards of shattered ornaments
you swear you never touched.
Child, build a lego cenotaph
to arguments you've lost
and loathsome greens you've eaten.
Remember each injustice-
flavoured runner bean,
peas tasting of blackmail.
All dreams are taken
out of context,
slandered in concupiscent dismay,
entombed in deeper disbelief.
:icontearstone:tearstone 2 20
Oratories and Laboratories...
A Rebuilt Life
I. A tale of the illegal, the illicit, the illogical
Oratory In the Laboratory - Part 2
"Oh no, Inspector, don't be deceived; that most redolent and pestiferous plague known as 'death' remains irrefutable, life is irretrievable, just as we-" a glance askance to the burgundy-blood-stained lab coat worn by the newly-dead instigated a painful pronoun change, "or rather I, stand before you irredeemable. I embalmed whilst he imbued, an atmosphere imbibed, till catastrophe ensued. The sepulchral saturnine expression frozen to her face became something altogether more morbid." Kneeling, he placed an outstretched palm against the still-warm chest of his brother, as if willing its re-animation in rhythmical respiration.
Something could be felt between thin cotton and quiescent ribs. A creased photograph, its edges damp and scarlet, was removed from the deceased's inner pocket, a familiar sepia smile greeting the surviving sibling.
"Once, her very name was a phonic philtre,
:icontearstone:tearstone 50 110

Random Favourites

takes her lesson
The buildings were bowing as far as their lightning rods would allow them,
laying their pot plant leaves before my feet,
amidst the donkey's traffic grunt.
I had been given my messiah,
wedged between two glossy slips of cardboard.
I'm too shy with strangers to say no;
I gained faith thanks to the selfless persistence
of a ten year old.
Except when I closed my eyes
I saw only momentary multi-hued memories
on the back of my lids.
But that's okay, that's okay,
I had a smile on my face
and god in my hand.
I opened my eyes to:
eager profit prophecies dangled as neon halos,
perched to guide imprudent eyes
- since when were inanimate objects so attention-needy? –
and I had stumbled
off number-
ed pages
But that's okay, that's okay,
because once I coughed it away
I was still there with my glossy book
burning like money in my pocket.
(Maybe when there are only overly ornamental churches
built as architectural feat
rather than practical rock foundations built for bodies rather than brains,
or wh
:iconsperpy:Sperpy 60 76
Mature content
Oratories and Dormitories... :icondanielzklein:danielzklein 4 30
Something with tits in it
Soporific, sublunary lassitude
Peregrination--pusillanimous metempsychosis
Pilfering roe, abed
Pinions, sprockets, fabulous vise
:icondanielzklein:danielzklein 4 51
Eheu fugaces labuntur anni - Horace
             曙はまだ紫にほととぎす - 芭蕉
I: Dawn on Mt. Olympus
Hythlodaeus, O walk with me this eve
to summit where the stars are within reach,
to sight below, the sinusoidal beach
chant forth with glowing voice its dirge and grieve;
"Adieu to sweet Persephone! relieved
this year again from caring arms." And each
unquiet night, the darkness of the breach
assaults her flitting powers to believe.
So then, O let us walk! It is our last
foray, our last circadian beats condensed
in this elysian moment, firm against
the tides and deeply rooted in the past.
For in an hour we shall walk no more;
as Demeter walks no longer on our shores.
II:The Nocturnal Hour
Seven junks on the quiet Congo, slip past the monsoon's lair,
gliding beneath the moonlight scattering in thin streaks
through the thick foliage, blanketing a heavy burden on
the turbid waters of
:iconfallingsilver:fallingsilver 5 7
i am simply
petrified, ill at
easel leaning wooden
legs pegged into
a reluctant parcel.
lacking postage my posture
might dictate sudden
in decision and direction,
so while hardly playful
this solid stoicism
screams.  tilting
my mental canvassing
complete, and caught
budding a blossom
like a mounted
bas-relief i'm hooked.
however blank this
palette needs no cleansing
or water-colored comments
to wash your hands with,
for the very dark model
my taciturn of cheek
in tongue staid has a way
around words.  
atlas bore upon
sculpted scapula such
rigid repercussion and
how artful the martyr
he made, decorous certainly
but feign a care before
my fear is affectation
and i am simply
:iconmyrth:myrth 1 18
Curiosity by moeffju Curiosity :iconmoeffju:moeffju 4 5
Oktober again
Oktober again
Braune Blätter, graues Pflaster
Und die Bäume werden schwach
Ferne Sonne, kalte Winde
Noch sind Blätter auf dem Dach
Alles Leben schwindet
Jede Flamme verlischt
Jede Pflanze windet
Sich nach jedem Licht
Was sind wir denn als Blätter
An unserm Lebensbaum
Und werden wir zerfressen
Und schwach und müde, braun
So müssen wir denn fallen
Von unserm Lebensbaum
Gelbe Blätter, Farbe noch
Doch das Feuer verlischt
Doch ich nicht!
Will nicht sterben, nicht vergehen
Will im Leben ewig stehen
Will mich verlassen,
Dinge fassen,
Die man heute kaum könnt' sehen
Will ewig reifen,
Mich begreifen
Und mit meinesgleichen
Meine Ziele nie erreichen
Kommt, lasst die Winde wehen
Soll'n die andern doch vergehen
Bäume fallen, neue wachsen
Doch der alte Wald bleibt stehen
Lasst sie fallen, lasst sie sterben
Lasst sie für die Nachwelt werben
Ich werd nicht fallen, ich werd' bleiben
Lasst sie Blendwerk mit mir treiben
Ich seh durch euch, euren Glauben,
Der euch sollt' die Ängste rauben
:icondanielzklein:danielzklein 3 12
Where The Wild Proses Grow 0.5
He never thought he'd find himself here. He never thought he'd find himself anywhere. Destined to be lost in the white noise, the ambivalence, meandering aimlessly across the grotesque gnarled fusion of everything you could ever dream of, and infinite nothingness.
But no. Here he is. Silent from circumstance and taciturn from disposition, a fine example of what reticence is all about. Juxtaposed with the blaring dulled noise of the old jukebox, its luminescence sprawling through the thick, acrid miasma of cigarette smoke, stale sweat, and even staler beer.
The landlord of this exquisitely squalid cesspit stands sentinel behind his last wall of defence that keeps him at a safe distance from the languid and equally squalid denizens of this humbling abode, whose sorrow he feels no guilt from making a living off. The bar itself is putridly sticky, not from spilt beer for that sweet nepenthe is far too precious a commodity to waste when it could be used to eschew the harsh realities of the
:iconrealfunfuneral:realfunfuneral 1 13


I interrupt my not unpleasant silence to bring you advertising,
my deep-pocketed consumers.

Aut viam inveniam aut faciam.


will save you
Current Residence: Nottingham, UK
Favourite genre of music: a lil' rock, touch of indie, sprinkling of hip-hop
Operating System: Win XP
MP3 player of choice: Winamp
Favourite cartoon character: Panthro... or maybe Mumm-ra


Add a Comment:
danielzklein Featured By Owner Feb 27, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
I miss your needless verbiage.
salshep Featured By Owner May 21, 2010
bone-white Featured By Owner Nov 27, 2007   Writer
Wow..Thank you for adding me. Your work is stunning.
ViciousCabaret Featured By Owner Nov 1, 2007   Writer
It's been a while since I came across writing as good as this on DA - ought to thank SparrowSong for pointing me in the right direction.
toothpaste-soup Featured By Owner Sep 17, 2007   Writer
It's been quite a chore looking for solid, well-crafted literature here. Thank you for punctuating the search.
Iwon1 Featured By Owner Aug 18, 2007
Mumm-ra? Huh?

Sounds like you, being mum. But I have no room to speak.
MadeOfMakeBelieve Featured By Owner Jun 27, 2007
Where have yoooou gone?

Come back, and remind me why I like this place.
nottinghamART Featured By Owner May 3, 2007
Hi, we've started up a new community purely for deviants in and around Nottingham, if your interested in joining just go to our page and watch us. =)
caveatLECTOR Featured By Owner Apr 10, 2007
so i heard back from Our favorite Band. "This sounds interesting." And also "when we get the details finalized, let's explore what it might be like to have you do some writing RE the trip..."

then signed by the pair of them.
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