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837 deviations
Poetry
165 deviations
Photography
8 deviations
Mid July News: Family of the Heart
Life continues to offer surprises, and I am of no exception. Every day presents a new challenge, but I know we all do our best to stay strong and to overcome any of the obstacles that come our way. There have been many dark days, but the light continues to shine. I have held tightly onto that precious light as I face the unknown, as many of us certainly do. A few days ago, I was surprised to receive phone calls from my biological "father," (I use this term lightly) whom yet again— I have not spoken to in over twenty years, wondering why now of all times he would opt to try and contact me after his years of abuse toward my Momma and eventual abandonment. He was seeking out "information" from me— but of what kind, I little know or wish to know. I still felt a bit torn about not wishing to be selfish or hateful, but also feeling he had no right to any information from me or about me. After all, he had never been there. He had never paid my Momma a dime for child support (that
Articles, Features, Contests, Etc.
186 deviations
Miscellaneous Gems
29 deviations
Literature
Abe at the funeral
Trigger Warning: death of a loved one
Abe was 25 years old and surprised by the sharpness of how few years separated himself from his parents. He was more aware of it now than even when he reached the age that they were when he was born, which had certainly been its own kind of shock. His father was now frozen in time, and would never age, which meant that someday – soon – Abe would be older than his father. It seemed like a good idea to get his life together before that happened.
His mother was holding his right hand, and smiled at him, though there were tears on her cheeks. In his mother’s right hand was Izzie’s
Prose
63 deviations
Ghost In The Machine Anniversary
By the time this journal will be posted, it will have been a year and five days since the fruits of 18 poets' labor came together to form one cohesive poem as a whole in a poem called Ghost in the Machine. As the person who organized and enjoyed putting it together, I thought I would share how this idea coalesced into something more than I had ever hoped for. By doing so, I hope to show how everything came together and the effort and compromise many people labored over to create this gift as well as share a few works in progress of the poem and a recording of a performance of it. It all started with a journal hopeburnsblue (https://www.deviantart.com/hopeburnsblue) had posted at the
Ghost in the Machine Project
15 deviations
Literature
Dove Grey
Dove grey
clouds shift and tumble,
playing shadow puppets
with crepuscular rays shining
on church bells in the quiet
countryside. Thunderheads gather
in the distance as loamy
earth prepares to catch sweet
rain. Ozone permeates the air,
metallic petrichor sharp enough
to fell trees shivering
in anticipation, waiting
for the clouds to fall.
Best Of
28 deviations
Literature
Installation Piece
Iron thorns push through skin, I’m part of an installation piece
Flesh and bone, metal and stone, electronics
Wheeled in on a cot, phones for eyes
That never ring
But I see how they look at me; (they’re thinking)
How lonely it must be to slowly die alone
They smile anyway, good at faking it
After all, it’s their job
One day the artist will be able to push a button, and I’ll spin
My speaker-mouth will sing about snow
Only one more push allowed
And I’ll spin into space
My last human thought will not be of you, but of us, together
Sitting in the cold morning, coffee and cigarettes
Back before they began assemblin
In Loving Memory of Ron Ray
14 deviations
Literature
Fall 2019 Haiku set
10-15
first snow of the year
mosquito on the window
hopefully the last
10-1
smells of autumn
rain, crockpot
first test of the furnace
9-15
neighborhood rooster
morning announcements
now remind me of Maui
9-1
sleepy holiday morning
white hairs
in my husband's stubble
Haiku
27 deviations
Literature
Slanted Static (C.)
I am poetry
penned and gutted--
a half-slant half-cocked barrel,
a bullet nosediving (shot shy in the spotlight)
but awaiting the free verse of time.
I am poetry
carved from your soul--
a blunt sword swallowed by verse,
an arrow through an apple (a shot in the dark)
grabbed and broken by tradition.
I am poetry
stricken with silence--
I'll tell you a story
if you're willing to listen
of the blisters on my heart,
of the shadows in the dark,
of the spaces all my darts go to find motion...
but you have to be ready to take the fall
and trust the shattering.
I am poetry
bogged down with bruises--
tearing pieces from bones and souls
and framing t
Collaborations
12 deviations
Literature
Patchwork Stroll
Fingerprints of scarlet smear into gold,
an invitation to come back home.
Sunshine exploding through shadow trees,
overflow reflecting back from singing waters,
known for hiding smiles and stars in their memory.
It's like opening a window as a bird wings aside,
calling a greeting as you open your eyes.
Unexpectedly familiar, and newly grown into.
Someone left the crayons out in the rain. Don't forget the umbrella.
Love Letters
22 deviations
Literature
grief
praying mantis,
you hold my heart tattered at half-mast,
a mantra to the sanctuary
the solace your voice once provided
I hear it screaming in the chasms of silence
left between breath strokes
and withered stars--
haikus of misunderstanding,
a poetry all its own
there's a breaking to the madness,
a confusion of who I was and who I am;
there's a madness to the breathing,
a reckless nonchalance
tempting the web I've woven around my wounds
bandages can't fix this,
stitches are bound to rip in the sunrise,
and your claws are too clean
to be strangling me so quickly
so pull me close and tear me open
I'll figure out the rest
under a differ
Beth
34 deviations
Literature
please teach me
Little waterfall,
churning the beautiful rocks broken,
please teach me;
show me how to be happy,
to dance in place for hours
with nothing more to show for it
but more dancing tonight and tomorrow and tomorrow;
show me how to be callous,
to pick the sparkle from the granite
and funnel it out to the fish
and the propellers;
show me how to be brave,
slicing walls in half and in half
even though they will change
your shape;
please teach me, little waterfall,
to live life above the rocks
rather than below them.
Vicky
11 deviations
Literature
Minnaar
your impression rests, still on my arm.
in this bed of ours, I still remember.
when you're not here,
I see your voice,
I hear your smile.
your olhar; pierced me in entirety.
still on my arm, your impression rests.
I still remember, in this bed of ours.
minnaar, my minnaar.
I still remember.
Jordan
8 deviations
Literature
The Dangerous Think
On the streets of San Diego
I waved goodbye to her like a sea’s crest
and fall
rising in my chest.
If this moment is worth thinking about,
it’s not worth overthinking,
but I do anyways.
I play coy in being closeted
and glare another convinced smile,
blare another compliment in our parting
and chuckle through the memory:
“I was afraid,” she had mouthed
and I mimed along post-martyr
in analytical cockiness
“I was afraid if you thought
you might be schizophrenic
you would think yourself there.”
she had said.
I am always in my own head,
my own way
too much.
I laugh the distrust off.
My mother says she s
Nic
24 deviations
Literature
on fear
knuckles paler than normal,
your slender fingers
wrap around your scraped
and dot-spilled coffee cup
with frustration.
your lips
meet the rim
in desperate attempts
to wash the taste
off your tongue.
this is a flavor
far too familiar
but far too bitter
for comfort.
your collarbone
screams at the skin
above, red splotches
pecking your shoulders
and above
your heart plate.
not one for crying,
tears dance
at the edge
of your eyelids,
ready to make
the jump to the next life.
spiraling, you tell me
is what you're afraid of.
spiraling, you tell me
is what you're trying to avoid.
spiraling, you tell me
is when the end meets the end.
and what
Ricky
15 deviations
Literature
Hope.
There's not a second
a stargaze
a sunset
That's not bringing me(closer to)you.
Kaylin
6 deviations
Delice
22 deviations
Literature
The Library
The smell of parchment swirls slowly through the air, drifting down sunbeams among the dust of long kept secrets Secrets creeping 'tween the shelves, careful, cautious, the silence - screaming stretching straining to hide softest whispers, too long looks. Penned in open, or inked in secret. Wrapped in binding of every hue, left behind words, long lost breath Ancient letters, swollen scrolls Tales of adventures that slink between the margins. Secrets are kept closed and saved between the pages But the smell of you - open just a crack
Crystal
11 deviations
Sprite Kelsy
6 deviations
Literature
dove.cote
One day I will not see you as beautiful. It is not now, it is not today. But one day you will be a face, divorced from all the photos I couldn’t bear to burn. You will be stood across the room, and I will meet your gaze with all the indifference of a stranger. My heart will not lurch, will not trip on the last words we shared, “take care, always remember-” It is not now, it is not today. You will laugh, smile, do that thing with the corners of your eyes, you will gesture like so, you will click your tongue and shake your head, you will spill your drink on an unsuspecting passerby, and I will hardly notice. You will approach
Comet Kelsey
22 deviations
Literature
Songs That Sound Like Space
I think I might be coming back.
I hear the echo,
the sonic boom from
the beginning of time,
shocking my system with static potential,
the hum that's always been there.
In between my ears
I think there's someone chattering again,
and she's lilting along
puffing out thoughts
into the warming winter air.
Maybe I just needed to ground myself,
let the electricity in once more,
but I was afraid to touch the universe
for fear of the stars stinging my fingers.
Beginning again can hurt
but again I feel awake.
Marie
19 deviations
Literature
Moss Green
Moss green
fence slats lay decaying
in the backyard, half dried
from recent rain. The squirrels
rustle across dead leaves, fleeing
barking dogs and near-silent
cats prowling for a quick
meal. Pollen saturates the air;
mushrooms grow in the shade
of fallen branches as the fuzz
of lichen creeps over a trunk
felled in favor of a wooden fence.
Lauren
28 deviations
Literature
Insatiable
He wonders what she hides behind
that mischievous smile, and the
crescent wile of curvaceous skin.
The little black dress that shows
what's hidden from within, and artful
hands that tender its sin,
of how her eyes can melt his soul,
black gems that glitter, flash and burn,
and make him yearn for tangled limbs.
His lover's mouth with its hunger,
insatiable until it's done.
Her body's desire renders its pureness,
oiling his with her serpent's move,
slick from the whiteness of him.
Moonlit gleam of heavy eyes, a shudder
and a rush of sighs when a tongue curls in.
Her grin, and the joy felt within by her
lover's unex
Jade
5 deviations
Literature
Punctuation
“I thought full stop didn’t feel like going because of her period,” whispered hyphen.
“Oh, no,” said semicolon, “that’s not full stop; that’s dot, one of the ellipsis sisters.”
Well, considered hyphen as he prepared to dash off, it had been a confusing story but now it seemed he’d be able to join the dots...
Frankles
6 deviations
Literature
Why I Can't Just Hit Unfriend
I hate finality, any action that closes doors all the way, so they click shut and there's no way back in: some rooms are windowless, all brick and mortar with little cracks, big enough for ants but too small for me and the immenseness of the possibilities that live on in my head.
Kaelyn
6 deviations
Literature
Sticks and Stones
They say words can never hurt you.
Silence does a better job.
Skander
5 deviations
Literature
Home
First inhalations past the threshold, wordless perfume somewhere between dust, sunlight blooming floral in an open mouth, and linen. My grandfather said his first action home after slipping the tired strap of his travel-bag off his shoulders was to kiss the coverlet of his bed, and at eight I couldn't comprehend. Now I understand it is prayer and apology for wanderlust, infidelity to spaces we so often take for granted. I cannot steal his ritual, so mine lingers in breath instead-- I refuse to breathe until I open the door, until I hunger for home, and home becomes my lungs again. I breathe around the word like wine, lips closing around the syllable, a spoonful of shepherd's pie. I am the sommelier of journey's end; it is never the same bouquet twice. Sometimes the rice has gone bad in the fridge, overpowering the ghost of lavender; Sometimes three o'clock warms old candle wax, leaving notes of peony and laughter. I savor all the same. I wonder if the doorframe
Lizzie
7 deviations
Literature
.
Your mouth: a lily.
Pure, sweet and floating
lithe, just out of reach.
Sky
5 deviations
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