TheBloodWriter's avatar
Rock Paper Scissors
124 Watchers34.6K Page Views569 Deviations
R
Rain-ish-chord
The harp of heavens angel is caked in paint and ink their dripping tallow fingers choose each enchanting plink A muse that rests on nimbus dips a paw in rippling sky the music overwhelms it and cascades from every eye some soft celestial land is bathed in radiance from the rainbow of its hand come floods of ebullience the music is a dynamo electric in the light what happens in the sphere above conducts a sweeter night one where one may crack the screen to sip on nightly air or catch a drink in open hands and quaff without a care
0
0
L
Lone Engulf
Guide me sugarplum, for the night is bitter cold, this summer heat Sweats this one right through and I can taste you on my tongue You are love my dove, my dear bear, kiss me and despair I am far away and aching now, like a ships keel in the South Pacific Take me in your palm, wrapped in the wonderful white shy of your touch, breathe down my neck and I will pull you under with one naked iris. Correspond with me. Reckless in the night, under Oregon’s tumbledown moon, I will lay in the grass and be fairy faithful for news. I will hang my head on your beechnut shoulders. When we repair home will you help me kill the season in one worthy Ne
0
0
B
Better Worlds are Easy
What kind of world is this, it is the most unromantic thing I know? It goes water, and air, and dark, and god, and sound, and light and earth, and on and on and on... When it goes out I expect the directions to reverse. and there will be no god. and there will be just the wind cradling the water in the dark, holding her close, stirring her blind sharks gently.
0
1
U
Untitled Progress A
There is always the option that nothing is the way it is supposed to be that you know not what you suppose of me while i repose i try and know my dreams and find to see them is to know a version front and center off the left of me but that's as far as we can come to knowing thee through these extremes we find the time for roses free for all life's little pause and poses watching wilting makes me suffer anxiously and though i know there isn't room for base uncertainty death still stoops to scare the fight from me so we get the span we get and not a minute more each eye is fixed on something different we adore pulled in both directions to our e
0
1
U
Unconscious Project A
Mistaken amputation un-take-a-back-able noise in uncanny places rock small and meek in your back pocket, trancing up and sidereal to reach you through what passes through the scarlet sieve of your red reflection sending back to me inscrutable intent wishing you to worry me down doe and fine is lost in the white water wings of your fingers, you tuck and pat me, comply, reply skip me one day and i'll fly so far
0
1
N
Nanowripo - 2018
I. Going Bird Mad Waxing, on and on, a carmine pool pearling in the sun coughing, lack of sky, green and saturnine, Olympus Mons in the shadow of Mrs. See the coming wind, the storm about to breach petrified forests catching and suffocating on that beach. Umbrellas unfurl like toadstools, craning up to space past the soggy, airy, nothing is forever place. It is all about the brutal blue, clad in a power maybe only Picasso knew. Scour, sky, fit things, fight, or fit to it right, flight. Either or, the storm is passing sore, see it bleed and bite and it will be let to echo in the stratus err it err be o'er II. Rum Currants If you had warned
0
1
A
A Thick Slice of Night
I am lost in the dark mirror of a window, the whole world plays behind the glass with a sarcastic smile. But I cannot get past this reflection of a room and man starring into the pane for answers.  
0
1
C
Cupid Takes Aim
You are, in waking action a kind of archery in art. You are feathers, and a spear speeding point - a smear sketching through the wind a line that was intention. This act of artillery can't ever be forgotten, one swift flashing keen smiling apart the horizon, delivering dawn annually. That quick cut is more than all worldly momentum, rather would I stand still and be of use forever.
0
1
S
Sun Rich Water
This is what its like at the bottom of the sea; it is like an apartment in summer, it is fan centric, flower rich, a nude girl lies dreamily on the couch too hot for modesty, the light filtering down is like a music box, the air is one long hum like a neverending breath.
0
4
See all
T
The Acid
This is Revenge and it is what I am. It is like reconciliation, To who I've been. If I had any fear left only the fears left, then what I am is being myself to death.
0
2
L
Lost Lunchtime
Believe, breathe, bifurcate and cleave Love archaic, sincere, grief Time is not a muse, just between Who you are - who you've been Seams, steps, subcutaneous themes Wake, mourning, loss, dream Atrophy will find a way in But leave unseen What's new is ever shiny, clean Unbidden As who we were is kept hidden Beneath Deep inside a timeless skein we Scream
2
0
S
Somewhere Over the Moon
Tonight's moon was the heaviest I've ever see The gravity of its grin made me wish to spin And it dominated the whole circumference of the sky It's a moon so low and orange and menacing If I were a witch I'd save up all my spells for tonight Throw every curse I could under its auspice "You'll grow a never ending nose" "You'll feel your ex-lovers apathy" "You'll be beset by plum pudding" "You'll be scared of metaphors" Truthfully if were a witch I'd hide beneath my pointed hat I'd be aghast at the hollow feeling of my bird bones I'd be best friends with a siren and kiss her toes Sing to me beneath the husky drooping crescent moon Serenade me
2
3
T
The Means To My Ends
I used to whittle poems to keep me scarcely sane now they're gone gone gone, and so is my brain I used to fashion rhymes out of my spare time now they fashion mimes making walls up in my mind I used to dream of drams of the stuff that makes up thought I forgot the very purpose of the things I once had wrought I made myself a slave to the fictions I supposed supplanted little nonsense til they all just froze I made these upers downers to keep me in control but the means to my ends became a different goal one that wanted money, that ached to be admired this lust for attention is what set my head on fire the ego in the hen-house is the handsaw m
3
4
A
Astrologic Talk
Your words are not as clear when they are written in the shade but they can still cut just fine with a metaphoric blade when they are dappled in the sunlight your meanings hard to clasp Austin is a jerk to me and it's hard for me to grasp. Through it shouldn't be so, (he is such a horses ass) and such a Scorpio with his tail poised to sting all this Libra can suppose is it must be a water sign thing. She'll never realize with head high in the clouds the churning tides of passion beneath this spider's shell which are probably the same waves that will wash him straight to hell.
1
3
W
Winter Rain and Sun
I know that there is snow can see it outside of my window, but I have felt no snowflakes here which is best. Gray is, it's just the best. It seems to soothe me of distress which I like to think I'm needing though my heart is free of feeling the distress is seeding, a pumpkin from my latent fear crawling to my dear. A herald of a shared delight, who will fall apart come midnight, like anything worth anything to me falls apart by midnight. On the front porch of my love, we have a history, the rain and me.
1
2
T
Tipsy Root
You are the taproot the glass on tap, the source a little half dug flower root compassing the course.
0
2
D
Drearow
"I'll lay awake for a while." He said through slips in silence, breaking fragile things with frail things turnings hands over and smoothing out the personal side, the intimate side of hands, the side that touches sky that smooths out you and I. Afterthought tempts, the power corrupts to see things as you had ought but couldn't for all was blue and black heaven was blue, the world black it swam in starless splendor it splayed itself and waited never felt so desolated, so invaded. Gripping light burned him damn, it learned him inwardly turned him away from what was smoking grinning little lights at the tip breathing in blue
1
4
I
I brought Midnight in a basket
What's blue is gone, what's mourning's wrong no expression fits the face these days no stress in stars will spurt its song no aftermath is left to praise The evanescent wanderings come and go, nod and know show not the truth now bordering what is dying what drives to grow Sleep now dismal dears and ears keep pressed to what is fleeting tonight those troubled joys those useful fears that pace the edges of the light dream on drams of crawling skin circles all the binds you brought they will not twine the soundless din instead they dim the night you wrought.
0
1
M
Markus and The Basement
A little girls birthday should be a day of great happiness, and mirth, throughout the lives of everyone who has had the simple fortune to know her. Of course this is doubly so when the lucky child happens to be the most beloved little girl in the countryside but just so. Not so! Thought her older, and it should be noted more brilliant brother Markus. As he sat, trying not to appear the least bit sulky. Matilda was on her third present, gleefully tearing into the burnished gold wrapping paper without the least bit of care as to method or principle in unwrapping, all she wanted of course was the present. Which was fine Markus reasoned with hims
1
1
france 01
10
1.2K
france 03
16
819
stretch
17
916
Shoutitfromtheheavens
1
1
Star Wars Moment 2
82
811
Star Wars Moment 1
59
1.3K
b
baby
She has red hair when I think of her or at least I saw red as she ran from me like wine wasted down the sink. So these days I keep an empty kitchen. In the absence of drink I eat no bread and need no knife to cut it, and after losing her I’d half a mind to send my body to the state - and being the last sharp thing I had, I surrendered her like a paperclip thinking she and my shoelaces should be small enough to give.
7
15
i
in a bind
crush that heel through the earth, it's passion on pins and needless suspense. it is tighter still, ivy up the gait rapt. waist snapped seraphic, territory spats of rash gazes. clutch that feeling, keep reeling in every stray wanderer. tie them up proper, kiss off and prosper. blush not, this year is yours to flaunt.
2
4
s
slow
so it is sewn into sore veins, stored in the sordid remains of the story, strange as the sporadic strains of absorbing refrains distorted by shame since the storm brought a reign of conforming. fortune and glory unfurling but hardly afforded the meaning we're forcing. here at the source of it all, we're ensorcelled.
6
11
p
petit
call me a comma, i need a small breath. i need to feel air in my chest. i need, and that says something dire about me, makes me obsess, establishes me as less. call me a coma, i'll sleep until death.
6
19

Spotlight

S
Sun Rich Water
This is what its like at the bottom of the sea; it is like an apartment in summer, it is fan centric, flower rich, a nude girl lies dreamily on the couch too hot for modesty, the light filtering down is like a music box, the air is one long hum like a neverending breath.
0
4
Nov 20
United States
Deviant for 13 years
Nanowrimo 2018
Hey watcher types, don't know how much DA advertises Nanowrimo but for me it's been a real treat this year. I think this November might actually be the one! Fingers Crossed against jinxes obviously. I wanted to hear from you all, any projects you're working on lately or maybe just updates on how your own Nano's are going this year? Be glad to hear from anyone whose still out there!
2
0
Knife going in
Nothing coming out. If you gouge a little deeper, just spread the pain around You'll find what's in there to be found
1
0
Hop Along
I was going to write a lot of depressive drivel here but I have decided to forgo it in favor of sharing some music and talking about my day(s). [link] So after four years at university that ultimately have turned out to have had some cracks in the panning I am back home with my parents and youngster siblings following what might have started to be some kind of breakdown (always knew I had it in me, so proud!) or alternatively some kind of fidgety insubstantial interpersonal self-esteem crash. I stopped writing. I stopped reading. A cessation of art and inspiration accrued over those years that had built up a funk in my soul that I couldn't
0
0

Comments599

anonymous's avatar
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Sign In
PennedinWhite's avatar
PennedinWhite|Hobbyist Writer
Hi, you! Glad to see you around a bit. :heart:

Hope you are doing well! And thanks for the favorite! 
Reply  ·  
sevvysgirl's avatar
sevvysgirl|Hobbyist Writer
:iconthxfavplz: Much appreciated! :-)
Reply  ·  
PennedinWhite's avatar
Happy Birthday!! :heart:

:cake: 
Reply  ·  
TheBloodWriter's avatar
:hug: :party:
Reply  ·  
PennedinWhite's avatar
:hooray:
Reply  ·  
MissTeak's avatar
MissTeak|Hobbyist General Artist
Your work is lovely.
Reply  ·  
TheBloodWriter's avatar
thank you very much for taking the time to say so, I go gaga for compliments :hug:
Reply  ·