|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Cold at FourIs there a technical term for a harp maker?
If there isn't, it's you, as a body, that canine
Your name doesn't
ring right but it's what you do with it that counts:
I tumbled around it and never said it at the correct second, like the
cuboid-skulled choirgirl a note behind, loud and disgusting. A faulty
The banal usurping of my bookish tongue
came on quick.
I'm very sorry.
Everything scratched backwards and now my spine streams
from my throat, cursive handwriting.
Scored in your scalp:
the clicking of toes, falling asleep in the hands of metal men,
forgotten criminality, barbed wire telephones -.
you look like so many faces -
for all I know you don't exist except in broken chairs.
The Maritodespotic PathI am naked beneath my coat of armour.
I woke and thought it was the sickness
I'd had before - my lips had never burned
The ghost of your dog came to me
last night, while I dreamed;
it burst into grey dust and
told me my bulimic piano solos were beautiful.
Dancing under the pregnant sky,
a waning gibbous belly crowned
with violet cloth,
I converse with the moon -
deep, dark French.
I love to speak
to hunted rabbits
and unlit trees.
WitchMy belletrist, little hunched cardigan-drenched
finch, he says, Mess, blooded with French shores and burned cakes,
don't you come to my hand anymore,
crying poppies from sallow ducts, my tiny soil-saviour?
- he touches his own ass-ears with his spiked teeth
and pets me 'til I'm salmon, sunset -
Sleep in my bed, stocky moth,
cease your painting, beetle queen, queenly slut,
turned frizzy in the process of sharpening the sea,
mouth your watercolours and hose down the wall
- I am ill of him, his eating
makes me a murderer -
Newborn kettle-coffee throws a kiss
and our son climbs my sullen thighs;
I doubt we will fall out of love,
the spiders we are.
The WoodsThey were shaped like humans, humans with rat-tail hair or weeping willow spines or long hungry feet, and they danced around her, carried on her fearful imagination. She could taste their wicked delight and she cried, paralysed as they fed upon the chilled currents of winter walks. The little wolves spun up her ankles and took on her thighs; nothing left unexplored for them or her, a vicious loving in the trees. She met the thick loam with her knees and stayed upright, her hollowed body becoming the only memory anyone might ever have of her.
These are the woods where the children come to die. These are the shadows where grey-faced sleep waits, never speaking, never turning. The children fall into the grim peace and no one can follow their red toes into the shroud.
Vulva SongThe curtains are never drawn in the spare room.
Why aren't you coming, why aren't you sitting on the edge of the bath keeping watch right through me?
I feel the carpet and soak up every silent look, store them under my toenails, and I miss you. You exploded,
the bees in the lavender bush are all that's left of you.
Articulated PointsOne year after I met you -
Ill, stricken, your chocolate orange lies
castling across my joints,
I break concave dandelion, seeds
splashing under my gambling shoes.
One year, one month -
They may lay their hides over your favourite
city garden walks, might leave hopeful lip prints
on the glass in your sturdy museum holidays, spit
love-letter typefaces down their ankles or hum in the grey
cold to stay awake for surgery,
and I will coagulate with my dresses,
nightblind insightslover let me quiver out my phase
and swallow flack
like darling terraforms.
that misplow the verges
with eve-run clamor.
hand in hair
and tongue unchecked prodding
from riverbed to soft canal.
bit lip stammer
rubbing rushes in time
and my cheeks flush and rival
Secret LoveSecret love
For the time declared
That the royal were the Heaven sent
Then no mere mortal could touch
Let alone look upon the face
So the lady served in Ur
Yet every night she lay alone
And dreamed of a secret love
Still many nights passed by
But she could only dream
One eve toward the date of her birth
The lady heard of one man
Bold and proud in his heart
She was certain he could share
She disguised as a common woman then
And rushed to meet him in the grove
They searched for a secret spot
Therein they looked into each other's eyes
And vowed to love until they died
It has been long years
But we remember, she and I
We meet again like before
To resume our tender secret love
Ophelia, my Belovedyou dreamed a crystal clear blue mirror surface
where the object of your desire was reflected
you embellished your memory with flowers and dressed it in white
carefully you folded your tears in linen
you buried your sorrow in boats of dream
which would never ever return again
and you stepped towards the surface of reflection
where the moon had dropped all of its being
the silky white swish of your dress you gave away
to be touched by the blue surface of reflection
in the centre of desire you won peace
and your whole being touched the dream behind the veil
your dead body was found on the beach in the next morning
it was partly under the surface like an abandoned rose
compared to you i am only the prince of shadows
immortal doubter and denier for ever more
bright string of light you were dream from dream light from light
I bring my flowers and my poems on your grave over and over again
With Love and Desire Immortal
There are moments when we need only silence
When neither I compose verse nor we listen to music
Anyone lost deep and not caring to be found
Will know the wherefore and the why
His words of devotion are my poetry
Her voice and sighs of delight are my music
That is all we need
We are deep
Lost and happy to be lost
Poetry and music
To each other
Too much...Maybe it was you
Maybe it was me
Maybe I had no clue what we were meant to be
Sometimes, I wondered what I'd do without you...
Sometimes, I didn't know if you cared
So many times I tried to convince myself that wasn't true
But every time, ended up in a pit of despair
What we could be, Whats we could have been
It was to much, You and that smug grin...
So I drew the line, said no more
It hurts to the core, but there's more chances than one
To find another one...
Lament kruchego spaczeniaZatonąć w głębokich oczach,
Ciemnych duszy przezroczach,
Nie ujrzeć przenigdy dnia.
Chłonąć ciepło jej ciała,
Istotę radości, gdy cała
W cichych oddechach drga.
Sycić się ust jej ruchem
Gdy rozmownym rozlewa się duchem
W poezji swych jasnych myśli.
Czynić lepszym każdy jej dzień,
Przeganiać z twarzy ten cień,
Co w smutku czasem sens wyśni.
Karmić się jej widokiem,
Poić codziennie tym słodkim sokiem,
Słowa z warg jej spijać.
Być jej oddanym i wiernym,
Na głos czekać bez przerwy
I uśmiech co nie przemija.
Leżeć na trawie miękkiej
I delektować się dźwiękiem
Obu tętniących serc.
I nucić tylko jej imię,
I widzieć, że Słońce ginie,
I odsunąć od siebie śmierć.
SweetGenuine ingenuous thumbnail
in between her teeth
brings forth a new twist
of the knife that love always carries
It's not yet the middle of the night
but already a new day has begun, because
I have her perfume enclosed in my skin
and a pressure in between the thighs
that makes the moon above and the labia
restless dreamsoh sleepy
the sleepy poppies
all their dreaming powers
are conscious and aware
all nights and all days
just like on a night like this
but this dream is more real
than any other dream in my life
it rings a sad bell in my heart
this funeral of all moments
happy moments and joyous ones
sad and miserable moments
of this midsummer night
this is the very early morning of mourning
but i can still see your smile
the very first which you gave me
the full blossom of your lips
the parfymed silk of your locks
now i'm sadness beyond all oceans
beyond all dusks and all dawns
the sadness beyond the horizon
sadness beyond sun and moon
in this dream
yours and mine
my tears fondle
your lips your loins
they fondle your sadness too
in this dream of yours and mine
you created symphony of your myths
with only one look of love
the myth of your lips
the myth of your loins
the myth of yout breasts
but now my tears is al
DesireHer lips pressed
His jaw froze
Her teeth nipped
His blood flowed
Her breath whispered silk into his ear
His thoughts raced then became unclear
Pliant skin for the taking
Love's nectar for the drinking
A fire created for the stoking
Within bodies that are evoking
Sustaining desire in both
His lips pressed
Her jaw relaxed
His teeth nipped
Her blood slowed
His breath whispered silk into her ear
Her thoughts calmed, free of the fear
Pliant skin for the soothing
Love's balm for the cooling
A joy created for the awakening
To reassure hearts no longer alone
Sustaining hope in both
dead dog julyI.
the summer heat lays limp in the city’s lap,
breathing long oppressive breaths.
it does not even lift its lolling head
to bark out hoarse indignancy
when a strange man brings the mail.
there might be heavy rain today,
brought by some swollen, murmuring cloud.
the world will whirl and howl,
then settle down,
to die a little more.
o, quickly, love,
press your back against the wall in fear
as the universe spreads her arms and
shuts her eyes
and starts to summon the end of all things.
come with me
to the place of windows full of speechless afternoon
hot windy whispers of half-formed solutions and resolutions,
sweltering sunlit meadows we’ll wander and then forget.
o quickly, love,
let’s to the season of forgetting
and unwind all of our harshest memories
and fill the universe’s mouth
with mute cotton.
i’ll whisper these words to you some evening
with all my exigency in the hand i rest on your arm—
AndromedaAmongst the darkened skies
Brightened by only starlight
Field & Sea.
Gravity is only an afterthought
Hilltops become ladders into the sky while
Inferior planets stare down upon the Earth
Jealous of such simplicity yet contemplating grandeur.
Keppler only thought of science
Linear, elliptical, movement…
Mythology had no such thoughts
Neptune & Nebulas both inhabit space
Orbiting across the lonely darkness
Probably never worried about mundane things
Questioning their existence
Right now or for all eternity such as us.
Shooting stars make us joyful while
Terminator is an otherworldly spectacle
Unknown to all those hidden in their houses
Various stars await us outside
Waiting to play like we did before
Xenagogue & inviting
Youthful but ancient curiosities.
Zenith induced euphoria continues until daylight…
Keep in Touch!
Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More