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About Literature / Artist Kevin RegisterMale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 10 Years
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Literature
in your good graces
in your good graces
i was complete,
not fallen
or slovenly
or put to paper incongruously.
there was rhythm, a heartbeat,
a shuffling of feet
not fumbling
or slowing
or forced.
i was complete,
not floundering for pieces
in conceits and unsteady reason,
in dissonant music and lore.
i was forward in your good graces,
not untoward.
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Literature
sure as vultures
a spark of smiling
and shared cutting,
sure as vultures and running
and rotting
and ducking under powerlines,
veins and vines and viscera tearing,
leaving behind nothing but running
and rotting
and smiling.
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Literature
jack the media
dogs
sniffing at hollow logs,
coming across all wrong.
i am standing in a puddle and
there are flashlights pointed at me.
graves
and i can't go on.
jack the media, feed the wires through.
they'll of course believe you.
courting the fortress,
scaling the highest of highbrow ideas
i am presenting myself in molasses.
i sort of shot myself in the stomach,
incanting magic words—worthless firsts.
dogs,
all of you dogs,
scratching at nameless statues.
you are touching me, provoking me.
it is of course wrong.
i hope i can go on.
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Literature
apt k.
the girl in the backseat
keeps trailing off.
maybe we should keep our mouths shut.
i can see by her face that this is tennessee—
the look of longing, the look of disgust.
crawl through the windshield, honey—
we are near.
tell me that you know me, that you're doing fine.
i catch on quickly, almost brilliantly.
she sent me an empty envelope—it choked me up.
may it please you, may it turn you over in its hands.
i can be by your bedside,
talk you out of nodding off.
those orange ones are pretty (probably why they'll kill you).
i had planned to shake you off,
but you were already in my skin.
tell me that you know me, that you'll stay with me.
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Literature
kick out the history
whatever we've lost is apparently for the best—
the stress, the depression,
and the restlessness have been relentless.
when i go i hope i can choose which memories of you to take—
they're all i'd want anyway—
and kick out the rest of the history:
the ravings of a madman, the prattle of a child.
bring on the winter, the early dark—
bring on the end.
the cold is an old friend; the nothingness a religious experience.
no warmth,
a star that forgot to be formed in the eons of yesterdays—
the ravings of a madman, the prattle of a child—
could have been more brilliant than any other
when not surreptitious or at an unreal distance,
when consummated,
when finally given its due, its hue and cohesion;
could have been more brilliant than anything you could imagine,
than either of us could ever imagine.
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Literature
luminous recluse
a quick blue shifting,
forgetting the music and movements
of the girl in her bedroom,
the untruths and bruises from a love
that was always doomed—
i like how it's tilted,
like helianthus blooms
following me around the room,
and how love has been disproved
so i'll never have to go through this again.
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Literature
found hour
october is nigh.
pegasus is flying.
we keep to our own skies.
a perfect liquid drying white
because blue can never be right,
an hour found in a pile of seconds and we can only sigh
that our time is dying.
october is nigh
and pegasus is flying,
carrying my hopes a little high.
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Literature
want to interrupt her
she says push though your hands will stick.
put me down where the path is slick.
i can run and not slip.
now that you've seen me through this
i can shut off living up to anything,
forgo making sense to anyone else.
she says dance though there is no joy.
give up your silence for noise and go back again.
trade away your clear head for dangling ends.
i want to interrupt her and her worry,
give her a new color to be—but there are no new colors.
there is only the sameness of her and me.
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Literature
what a sight
baby, what a sight—
the stalactites dripping their best, their purest.
couldn't it stand to get better, couldn't it wait?
baby, what a waste.
hands full of hair on a head full of chase.
what a sight. what a second-guess and slight—
a dogma maligned because it convinces the heart but not the mind,
because it doesn't have the patience to wait,
the inclination to ignore change,
or contain its pain in a neat little box these days.
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Literature
the angel sooner
scold the only soul
to settle on you.
stick me with pins and remind me
that love is a whim.
i want to sew your wings back on
and call you angel again
and kick this new rhythm to the wind.
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Literature
half lather
i'll be swinging because
the rocks weren’t thrown hard enough to kill love.
out here i am working myself into a tiny rupture,
a half lather—
with fraught writings, overwrought infighting.
and maybe i've grown beyond ankle biting,
fallen too far from the tree to be family.
out here i am pacing the walkway,
wringing my hands and hanging my head and
i'll be swinging in your stead,
your place, praying your face won’t be the last thing i see.
out here i am deprived of sleep, of energy,
ultimately empty,
sucked dry and free, too far from the top to be falling.
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Literature
diver tick
i have intimated my fears
and my desire for leaving.
i have seen this change and said nothing.
down
and in,
and i am left destroyed again.
again.
i should have been prepared
instead of feeding the round holes squares,
blissfully unaware
of what was happening.
how did i get from there to here?
i have been fighting myself on this for years.
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Literature
valokuva
i could crop your smile out of frame,
write your true name with maroon smears
and watch it disappear without a pang,
without a sign that it was ever right,
without a hint of a voice in the white noise,
without a light of recognition in my eyes.
i could die denying you ever loved me—
a lie worth taking with me if it would make me right
and make you sigh without end.
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Literature
a center
there was a center that held;
a rhyme unto itself.
i could stand still and feel the circle being spun,
see the setting sun outnumbered
by lightning bugs lighting by the hundreds.
i descended into hell, discovered it was my heart,
grew needy of the smell
and weary of the glaring parallels.
there was a center that held
and fell gracelessly,
emphatically,
unnecessarily.
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Literature
orbiting mira the wonderful
preserve my worst faces in a locket,
in a frame on a wall.
call it off and stop the chase.
i am used to being replaced.
push me farther inward,
make me part of a series of countdowns
to no liftoffs,
no payoffs;
a penetration into no heaven,
an approach to no star.
i could have had you without traveling too far,
west or east, but no,
you chose the path of least resistance,
of instant gratification;
the best headwind to penetrate a different heaven,
to approach any old star that suited you in the moment,
to pull you farther inward
and farther away from me.
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Literature
columba noachi
postulate my love—the long thunder,
the tornado sirens.
i am in them, trading away my wisdom
—what little i have left,
what little i could never truly forget—
for unlimited death, the high flight.
the time flies
like white doves into a grey sky.
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tigereverskin
Kevin Register
Artist | Literature
United States
Writer, observer, listener, rememberer.
Interests
Everything in its right place.

A feeling that something is going to happen. A portent, possibly, but mostly just a feeling. It's why I've been trying to finish so many things so quickly. Quickly for me, anyway. I only hope they don't seem rushed.

K.
  • Listening to: Kid A by Radiohead

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:iconmryvonne:
MrYvonne Featured By Owner Apr 19, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
thankyouuutooo:blackrose:
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:icontigereverskin:
tigereverskin Featured By Owner Apr 19, 2016   Writer
It's my pleasure! :D
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:iconspitesyre:
spitesyre Featured By Owner Dec 8, 2015
Thanks For The Llama Emote
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:icongoryglue:
goryglue Featured By Owner Aug 22, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Hug 
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:icontigereverskin:
tigereverskin Featured By Owner Aug 22, 2015   Writer
:tighthug:
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:iconbauvy:
Bauvy Featured By Owner Jan 3, 2015  Professional General Artist
I clicked on 'Random Deviant' and arrived at this page.
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:icontigereverskin:
tigereverskin Featured By Owner Jan 4, 2015   Writer
I'm lucky! Thanks for the watch and the fave!
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:icongudsforladt:
Gudsforladt Featured By Owner Aug 21, 2014  Professional Interface Designer
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:icontigereverskin:
tigereverskin Featured By Owner Aug 21, 2014   Writer
Sleepy but good. How are you?
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:icongudsforladt:
Gudsforladt Featured By Owner Aug 22, 2014  Professional Interface Designer
Doin' alright, thanks. :D
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