The A,B,C's of Literature: G

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The A,B,C's of Literature
This week: G



Welcome to another installment of the A,B,C's of Literature, a weekly article which brings you suggested themes and deviants who begin with a letter of the alphabet.

This week, we will be focusing on the letter G and the themes this week are: Grace, German(y), Gluttony, Gold, Giving

Grace


Graceful is an Adjectivei.
Somewhere between the ravine and the sprawl of convenience stores I left footprints, halting and clumsy, on beaten pathways between bikers and dogs. I traversed slowly between pine trees and brush to the waters edge to catch frogs and skip stones, and dream.
I did not move with grace or any sense of proportion; I stumbled, tripped, and beat my way through the low lying undercoat of nettles and rose bushes to look into the swirling depths of  the creek and wish, dream, hope for my prince. I am a princess and I need somebody with a strong shoulder and good wits to protect me, to make me graceful by proxy. I conjure images of our beautiful children who would be born with an innate sense of harmony, who could rond de jambe l'air and rond de jambe à terre from birth, their sissonne ouverte grande being their conception.
ii.
I have never been considered graceful; I have always been more worthy of the term inept, or awkward. I never spread my
Why do i feel this way leave me wanting
.
.
.
missing your silence.
Grace         in rain of sorrow
the leaf catches, fills, and falls
     drifts to land with grace


German(y)


The Boy In GermanThe boy in German,
He often stares at me,
And sometimes I think
Perhaps he is just counting,
Counting the number of
Stray hairs I have to
Pluck from my eyebrows
That afternoon.
Or maybe he is taking
Note of the grotesque,
Grotesque purple hue of the
Pre-menstrual pimple planted
On the left side of my face.
Maybe in the morning
As I walk by,
He is simply checking
To make sure I am not
Wearing socks under
My flip-flops.
Even though he,
He wears his socks six
Inches above his ankles.
Nor would I be so
Utterly distressed, if not for
The way he looks.
Like a drowned mouse,
Dragged around by
An angry cat until
The beating was sufficent.
In addition to his lack
Of a charming appearance,
His personality is that
Of three-day-old bread,
Three-day-old bread
Dry, tasteless, bland.
Seldom speaks, never
Never admits a wrong.
The boy in German,
He is oh so far,
Far from perfect that
It is only ironically fitting
That this boy be enamored,
With perfect little me.
:thumb185810381: GeschichteGegangen ohne Grund,
Genommen ohne Sinn,
Wirst du weiterleben,
im den Herzen derer,
die dich liebten.
Aber du bist noch zu jung,
um mit deinem eigenen Willen zu spielen.
Dein Herz blutet vor Schmerz,
kannst du es doch nicht ändern.
Im Regen,
wirst die uns Genommen.
Das Gefühl von Angst,
wird uns nun immer verfolgen.
Fühlst du den Schmerz,
ihre herzen fliegen davon.
Gesendet an einen besseren Ort,
gestorben, aber doch kein Mord?
Wer wird es je wissen,
was dich getrieben hat,
deine Ziele waren so hoch.
Wir alle spielten das Spiel auch,
du bist derjenige der es verlor.
Ein verblutendes Herz,
reicht nicht zum Leben aus.
Im Regen ,
wirst die uns Genommen.
Das Gefühl von Angst ,
wird uns nun immer verfolgen.
Fühlst du den Schmerz,
ihre herzen fliegen davon.
Keine Angst,
wir denken an dich.
Keine Angst,
es ist noch nicht zu spät.
Keine Angst,
am Ende nur noch,
das Licht.
Wir lieben dich.


Gluttony


GluttonyLet's bound those hands of yours.
Break in those teeth, rip away that tounge.
Sew shut that disgusting mouth of yours.
Lock you away from the public eye.
No more flesh for you to consume, no more blood to drink.
Out of irony your body will betray itself.
Eating away your own body to keep you alive.
How good does it feel to be one of the 7 monsters?
As good as your last victim? Or should I say meal?
Monsters like you need to be slain without mercy.
But don't worry, starving isn't your only punishment.
Because what I've cooked up is a delicacy.
Rottiong flesh of your sinful kind.
Put out of reach for you to smell yet not consume.
So sit there and waste away.
Disappear and come back no more.

Mature Content

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Gold


mein EngelYou bear a slight resemblance
to my lover
he pounds away at it, too
note by lingering note
from that deep place
he calls heart
but, you -
you are a mystery of quiet trepidation,
a plunge
into boiling blood
and broken ice
you open your mouth -
an accent in polar sea
a floe of Mars
with a blind cloak
full of love's last kiss
i'm all circle-stance
and heartache
and old fate
in three octaves
becoming clearer
at low G, naturally
we wear each other out
in this...our haunting melody
of musical heat
like slow
lazy breaths
we toss light
and sleep
around four sheets
to the wind
i imagine your lips drip buttercups
and spring daisies
that like to moan and slink
along my collarbone,
an east to west
of clicking canastas
in symphonic longing;
its origin...of meld
we hang on the line
between thin
and transparent...
swinging at air
like all our cries of reasons
why
these noises in our heads
they are disguised as whispers, really
quirky
intense
curling sweeps
a gentle rustling
much like the sound
of pap
Fool's GoldI've ached to return
to that place, the warm
and worn berth that lies
beneath my mother's heart,
that is shielded by the
mixing bowl of her hip bones.
She had progesterone nightmares
in their crimson-quilted queen bed
about my body being owned and
broken by boys with dark eyes,
my hair, the color of Fool's Gold,
being braided into long chains &
sold to greed-gilded lust.
She fed her dreams to me mixed
with Wharton's jelly and
I ran with them, I took them so
far away that she could never
hope to have another.
Carried them in my left atrium,
my pockets, &
when men saw me lost, they stole
them.
Tied me up with dirty, torn gingham and
carried me to their beaten women.
They thieved my wishes and baked them
with Arkansas Black apples into buttered-gold
crusts and
ate everything in front of me.
You are the beautyYou are the best kind of beauty that I lay my eyes on
you are the gold in my drawer of empty
something that brings my body to chills
the winner I never got to be younger
like a field of free spirit and blossiming flowers
you're the freedom in me, where I become wild
someday i'll be staring at the walls right beside me
to find you sparkling, first to last place
march 2010 to the moments I win
you are the beauty, the glory, the pain that I suffer


Giving


giving up, or giving inmy
sweet escape remembered
by
lines drawn
in the sand so
sadly forgotten in
a wave
of empty depression
words
have begun to
fail me
my conscious is
wearing
thin i can't take this
much longer
i'm trying to give in
Giving UpGiving Up
It's one of the easiest things to do in life. Many people do it every day. But there are some who never give up. Those are the people that will actually get somewhere in life because if you give up on the things you love what's that going to do for your future? Even if you say I'm never going to give up but in the end you do because you don't believe in yourself. So if you decide to give up think about it first before you actually go and do it. If you never give up and keep doing what you enjoy doing it will pay off in the end. So you decide will you give up or will you keep doing what you love and never Give Up.
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Thank you to all the deviant suggestions and theme suggestions from pullingcandy rockgem Iluvocnj2006 Magic-fan Vashta-Nerada91 williamfdevault

Remember you can suggest a theme or deviant to me via note, or if you have someone for the next feature then please let me know




Previous Articles

A|B|C|D|E|F

Halloween Special
Lest We Forget


Next Week: H





Thank You
:heart:
Published:
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Comments5
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1869's avatar
thank you very much.
OritPetra's avatar
This is a really neat way to organize features! I'll be looking back through all the previous letters and looking forward to future ones. :heart:
yoyotheyoshi's avatar
Thank you, that was the best news I received all day, you made my day <3
xXAthazagoraphobiaXx's avatar
pullingcandy's avatar
Thank you. Again :)