Newest
ex“Just stop, just stop looking at me like that. You don’t know how it feels to have someone- to have you- look at me that way. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were doing it on purpose. But you probably would, wouldn’t you, if you could.”ex
Nina forces a sigh out her nose and leans over the bed. She wipes down the plastic leaves of some imitation of a plant that does not exist, but is plausible enough to picture in a rainforest or on a tropic isle. “You haven’t taken very good care of yourself since I last saw you. Probably on purpose, too. To try to teach me a lesson. Was that your plan?
by ~dziubku
badlandsHe remembers how hot the desert can be once he is out in it, not a second before as he jumps off the edge of the flatbed and the truck speeds away, taking any hope of shade with it. Now he knows why his mother always stuck a hat on his head when he went out. But Izzy is a rebellious eleven-year old and the sun has to go down eventually- all he has to do is wait it out and he’ll be fine. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, sweating already beneath the heat and the weight of his most precious possessions strapped to his back. His lemon yellow hair sticks to his skin as he shuffles into the dust. A wind kicks up from the west,badlands
by ~dziubku
the cuckoo's last songThe bricks of the town square glowed dully, as though rain had somehow fallen from a cloudless sky. Against the saw-toothed line of old buildings the crane loomed, monolithic and cold. In its overseeing shadow squatted the clock tower, the pride and joy of all tradition-minded citizens, the most conventional of which was Ina Gale. Ina was a short woman whose white hair orbited her head in delicate wisps, blown free of pinching clips and bobby pins that most women in her age-bracket saw fit to skewer their heads with. Her dollop of a figure hurried across the square, dwarfed by a passing crowd of junior high students on their way to the base othe cuckoo's last song
by ~dziubku
bloomsmackedFor there was nothing mightier than your mind, bending mine to fit its infinite variations on an infinite theme. Unfathomable, but only half so cumbersome as the sea. When awash in what you jam down my brain-stem, I take a breath.bloomsmacked
Against the mindless smack of jellyfish blooms propagating in left-behind spaces of a thought overfished by nerve-netted locusts. Pink clouds stalk seaweed forests raining rational venom. Swim, hard upon the current. Breach membranous seas. And wonder: are these the moons, the lions, the cannonballs? This, lo
by ~dziubku
Favourites
It Is This Way with MenMr. Williams, the earth cannot have us.It Is This Way with Men
Put in the ground, we diminish, yes,
but we are calloused. We have bitten our way
out of the sacks, the cruel amnions, the eggshells.
We are certainly not so hesitant, so soft
as the thorns you mention: what we find
we raze or eat.—
We are men, Charlie, running. Not away. Not from.
We are a race between brothers. And if a thing so little
as grief is to catch us,
we will end, yes, but not just.
by ~catching
sunshine bluesBeen seein Jackie Onassis, stalking a million rutssunshine blues
into the floorboards of
a tired motel room, that faithless smile comin on,
like velvet angels wailin
Kingdom Come
The salesman on the bed stretches, looks on with ruthless cool.
& she, that darling little Imposition-
all predator's eyes just hollering that
hungry look my way-
snarls
So you think you're a fucking star? Then why don't you follow that thing
all the way East, baby, & let
the kid in the manger see you shine
by ~dubbilex
The Dolomite Man 1.The Dolomite Man
You are openhanded. Of course you are openhanded. Yours is a more civilized hand than God’s,
a softer hand, a slower hand.
And your mouth discloses the first great secret of the world.
I cannot hear it. It is a secret for your mistresses and your four wives,
and for your mistresses and your four wives only. The child will learn it on his own. You may edify him
this way, you may make a lesson out of it— though I will learn close to nothing.
Perhaps how to make my expressions l
by ~catching
Watchers
Journal
No journal entries yet.
deviantID
No deviantID yet.
Devious Info
- Email: solongsailor@gmail.com
deviantART Community Board
Comments
Site Map
©2009 deviantART. All rights reserved
--
woods.
--
Against one perfect moment, the centuries beat in vain. -- Terry Pratchett
Previous PageNext Page