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Literature
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.
:iconTheBloodWriter:TheBloodWriter
:iconthebloodwriter:TheBloodWriter 1 0
Literature
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 every want and need
but we never have momentum or direction just to be
:iconTheBloodWriter:TheBloodWriter
:iconthebloodwriter:TheBloodWriter 1 0
Literature
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
:iconTheBloodWriter:TheBloodWriter
:iconthebloodwriter:TheBloodWriter 1 0
Literature
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 me
of the way our breath would mingle,
lively, sprite and free
back when I was still single...
III. Goodbye
against the grain you disappear
one impression begets the new,
two then coincide, collide, suffuse.
my fingers leave and touch and hush
the place you left,
an absence burr shaped, filling up with new
fantastic flora, the world rumbles
in displea
:iconTheBloodWriter:TheBloodWriter
:iconthebloodwriter:TheBloodWriter 1 0
Literature
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.  
:iconTheBloodWriter:TheBloodWriter
:iconthebloodwriter:TheBloodWriter 1 0
Literature
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.
:iconTheBloodWriter:TheBloodWriter
:iconthebloodwriter:TheBloodWriter 1 0
Literature
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.
:iconTheBloodWriter:TheBloodWriter
:iconthebloodwriter:TheBloodWriter 4 0
Literature
New Egg Gothic
the little lingering systems of solace
go about their way like angels
unimpeded by the weight of themselves
untroubled by the mess they leave
rainboots making footsteps into puddles
grieving little grooves in wet earth
there is a time to think about these systems
but doing so is like peeling a badly boiled egg
the eggshells inseparable from the white
a cracked disaster held in one hand
phasing its way through
:iconTheBloodWriter:TheBloodWriter
:iconthebloodwriter:TheBloodWriter 1 1
Literature
Someones Unlucky Numbers
The four points on the body
are the rose of the compass
which pivots and follows
the amalgam of the four elements
that is cradled in a veiled chasm
where the four evangelists confer
warmly arguing in the form of birds
the four points on the body
are the four chambers of the heart
the four limbs
are the arrows leading to each
they represent by turn
the joy of life
the awe of the divine
the moment that is wholly your own
the graciousness felt for chaos
your four joints, bracing, bending
are submission and conquest
The four points on the body
are the missing spaces of the subatomic shell
they are your wisdom teeth
long gone or painful
the four points on your body
are the ice in your veins
they are breath escaping your knuckles
a bead of sweat between haggard eyes
nervous plasma coursing free
the four points on your body
are the four corners of the world
the four points
ride straight out of Revelation
the four points of your body
are a ladybug inside your chest
they are the tendons in your
:iconTheBloodWriter:TheBloodWriter
:iconthebloodwriter:TheBloodWriter 0 0
Literature
Might Makes
Choose to be mighty:
snap the greenwood gates
let the sap run down
into your red and bloody thumb
don't stop, give pressure
let it all boil over
into clouds and shimmerings
stalwart, fight on
there is too much at stake
to be left up to fate
:iconTheBloodWriter:TheBloodWriter
:iconthebloodwriter:TheBloodWriter 0 0
Literature
Statement from Fashion
it is never enough to just get ready
you've gotta make a statement
put a splash on those bones
you'll need your hands free
you're feelings numb
the sum of extra planetary critique
from some God to their bugs
put those fishnets away
thou hasent the time to play
the ocean is a dangerous place
to wade in anyway
when you are ready then you are made
read-easy, you are an open book
you are a dash of rhinestone polish
bleak and pallid and going out of style
is what's in the mirror what's really
going out there?
:iconTheBloodWriter:TheBloodWriter
:iconthebloodwriter:TheBloodWriter 0 0
Literature
Projections for latter
there is a great path to the roof of the mouth of the river that runs the yard to the threshold of something irrevocable. when you traverse it your toes catch hold and don't let go for all the money in the world, the jig thereafter is up in the air, whatever happens might not always
:iconTheBloodWriter:TheBloodWriter
:iconthebloodwriter:TheBloodWriter 0 0
Literature
Bleached Letters
there is so much time alive between us and 'us
just too true are the artificial ways i've found
to circumvent this crux, in the end they all prove
not unreal enough
if i am to see you it will be in the sidelines
that I insist on visiting
how that mind upends all mine from mind
thereafter things tend to be left behind
its a long road to walk to be literal
which is still too figurative to figure out
but i'm dismissing the possibilities i'm missing
the truth of the fantasy is more-so
what I have been about
before the ink dries let me spill
this is less diatribe than bitter time capsule
:iconTheBloodWriter:TheBloodWriter
:iconthebloodwriter:TheBloodWriter 0 0
Literature
Banter off the Terrace
you are on this day, the knowing place
the going place, you are the pace to be
outrun. You are the satellite over Italy
making light out of what you see
The solar smirk of a rising sun
What you've gone and what you've done
are separate things, oppressive wedding rings
merry ever after, a villa free of laughter
the kissing chime of wine flutes sings
a lucky crystal hum, by ratio it seems
this prosperity is not for anyone.  
:iconTheBloodWriter:TheBloodWriter
:iconthebloodwriter:TheBloodWriter 0 0
Literature
Liminal Outreach Program
Curse this Doorway.
the authenticity of each passage
flashing, camera bulb bright in each batting eye.
Messages, focus, desperate held
each string of synapse; a necklace of nuclear pearls
enjambed; folding in on a twilight perspective
rife with ghosts, with girls, with talking formalities
motive long gone, a hollow frame lashed round
a horizontal swaying plastic abomination
Click, Click, like a gun, cracks itself open.
Salutations on a empty desolate plain
no new world here, an apocalyptic wilderness
it will take nasty years to make myself King again.
:iconTheBloodWriter:TheBloodWriter
:iconthebloodwriter:TheBloodWriter 0 0
Literature
Proud Against A Backdrop
You are a honey stain,
thumb crushed into the flat of the sky
the grooves and impress of an absence
filled to its brim with the light of all flowers.
a whole world, the stable staying ground of orientation
hands clasping tree trunks, I am a motionless plea
unto a feather light signal beacon that drifts
aloft the baying of wolves,
dismiss me for wilder voices
I have found the safest way to pray is like a poppy.
:iconTheBloodWriter:TheBloodWriter
:iconthebloodwriter:TheBloodWriter 0 0

Groups

:iconlove-for-the-lovers:

Activity


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.
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 every want and need
but we never have momentum or direction just to be
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
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 me
of the way our breath would mingle,
lively, sprite and free
back when I was still single...

III. Goodbye

against the grain you disappear
one impression begets the new,
two then coincide, collide, suffuse.
my fingers leave and touch and hush
the place you left,
an absence burr shaped, filling up with new
fantastic flora, the world rumbles
in displeasure, discomfort.
but I let it. the Old World is old.
it is pine tar on the wind.
I starve myself, I gorge, I purge in scattered song.
the New World is read aloud,
the place you left, bit by bit
star by earnest star
it comes along.

IV. Frosting

Good Glade
holds out, a piece of cake.
Clean slice, clear; see through to the plate
eat up, ice, cold.
You drink your tea, simmering, yap a spell
then carry away, the night in your belly.

V. Telepathic Postage

Honest letters spill from broken text
crimped fingers, bones jutting, light the whole body
on fire  Sympathetic, Electric, the just dusty
confidence, the catty-wumpus cool hand to cheek
novelty of it.

If you read a word or if you dared believe.
If you were pure and fine and fond.

VI. Conflict Escalates

So much light untopples the un-set order,
and the hegemony of the dark
one after another
how this muse agressess.

VII. The Hand that Feeds

the hand leads me
with its faint traceries of blue veins,
its sketching map of spiderwebbings
it is graphing in zero gravity,
everything hanging upside down like Dracula
the tears of his ever emotional and robust brides,
form little mirrors upon the shapeless floor,
draining away nothing, reflecting nothing,
not even this hand, lingering, touching,
suddenly striking through.

VIII. The Family Stone

gathering, together, the edifice of
Ogres, grinding, grueling, sleeping under bridges.
comparing it to: their mothers, the hags, the baba,
all manners, craft, crashing waves of wisdom
against sweet-toothed appetite.
sleeping in ponds, in rings of fire, in gray pudding-scapes,
Chicken-legs scritching out an anxious yard.
Caves that howl, caves with throat-warm walls,
the hill itself.
You could kill them by the pile, these old stories
burn the pages or route the spoken words
of things that wait as tough as diamonds
wise as wind-swept rock-face
to eat us, to teach us,
but you would only ever fill the graves
in empty patient coffins,
yawning, greedy, mouths of clay and earth
chanting crooked songs.

IX. Thin to Bursting

Hold me dear, keep me, in this thin, thin place.
The veneer of space is peeling back, eldritch eyes
mistook for stars, everlong, now blink and bob and
bring up teeth to test, shark-bite sized experiments,
out of satisfaction, out of certainty.
The summer halo glazes, unreal, the walls are thin,
paper thin and warm, and baking in the sun.
This year I will sweat away to nothing.

X. Hell Calls

Hell calls..
The dark decision, demon swift
hell calls.
through bloody, bifurcated mirrors.
Hell calls..
Alternate and near, look out the window, it rains.
Hell Calls.
temporal, tragic, ruined lives, ruined everything.
Hell Calls..
One end after another, presents, disconnects.
Hell Calls.
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.  

deviantID

TheBloodWriter
Rock Paper Scissors
Artist | Student | Literature
United States
Current Residence: Sacramento, California
Favourite genre of music: punk rock
Interests
Nothing coming out.

If you gouge a little deeper, just spread the pain around
You'll find what's in there to be found

Comments


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:iconmissteak:
MissTeak Featured By Owner Jan 29, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
Your work is lovely.
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RedEarthofTerra Featured By Owner May 1, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
It seems I have quite a few favorites to thank you for! :)
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:iconbyrds-of-midnight:
byrds-of-midnight Featured By Owner Apr 20, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Merci pour the watch & fav's. ☺️
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RedEarthofTerra Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
THANKS FOR THE FAVORITE OK GAWD
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Eremitik Featured By Owner Sep 15, 2015
I appreciate the fave on Wait It Out. Thank you.

If I may ask, how did you come across it?
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PoetryOD Featured By Owner Aug 13, 2015
Thanks for the fave :]
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:iconpoetryod:
PoetryOD Featured By Owner Aug 9, 2015

:iconthewriteplace:


I have to thank you for joining TheWritePlace, my new venture, my new baby :giggle: I am really REALLY excited about it. Like, capital letters excited. (I’m trying to tone it down). I want this group to be useful and accessible to all so if you have feedback on how to make it better feel free to let us know. Our chatroom (of the same name) will be launching properly soon, in the meantime enjoy the group and I hope it helps you :rose:


Kate :love:

Founder

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PoetryOD Featured By Owner Aug 7, 2015
Thanks for the favourites :rose:
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PoetryOD Featured By Owner Jun 20, 2015
Thanks for the fave
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PoetryOD Featured By Owner Jun 12, 2015
:blowkiss: Thanks for the fave
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PoetryOD Featured By Owner Jun 11, 2015
Thank you for the fave :rose:
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PoetryOD Featured By Owner May 21, 2015
Red Rose in teardrop crystal vase dewless 
Thanks for the fave <3
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PoetryOD Featured By Owner May 13, 2015
Thanks for the faves :love:
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cristinewakesuphappy Featured By Owner May 5, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
thank you. :iconheartballoonplz:
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PoetryOD Featured By Owner May 2, 2015
    Thanks for the faves
Heart-n-Ribbon Divider (Black-Purple) - F2U! by Drache-Lehre
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PoesDaughter Featured By Owner Apr 21, 2015  Professional Writer
Thank you for the :+fav: :) I appreciate it!
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PoetryOD Featured By Owner Apr 11, 2015
Thanks for the fave :love:
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PoetryOD Featured By Owner Apr 6, 2015
Thank you for the faves :love:
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PoetryOD Featured By Owner Mar 29, 2015
Thanks for the faves :]
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AlwaysRainCheck Featured By Owner Mar 25, 2015  Student Writer
Thank you for all the faves, the watch and the kind words. :heart: 
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