Theme

Display Mature Content

Suppress AI Content

literature

...

Support my work and get exclusive perks

View Subscriptions

Deviation Actions

keiranikaela

Published: May 1, 2014

917 Views

Literature Text


you've got the rain following you 
around like a sad tune
dancing atop of clouds 
the 
crows are loosing
feathers like
petals 
off of flowers.

[it's melancholy .]

keiranikaela

Treat a poet to coffee!

Well, I don't actually drink coffee. Tea will do!

$5/month

More by keiranikaela

Literature

iridescent

- and so she became the sunrise, the sunset, and everything in between. []

Recommended Literature

Literature

Faults and Regrets

Words are but a loss When your mind Is on a wander Dreaming, Caressing fantasies - Simple fables, But do we ever learn? Love, hatred, Contrast; Muse. We may win, But we always Lose. Recover from mistakes Repeat, repeat, End - Endless cycles That are To our routine And yet, What are words But a loss To wandering minds? Where they go, Where they hide - What they see, What they felt - And our muse Continues, Always the same Memory, But always A different Time ~

Literature

Storm Ravaged Hope

Petals are a scatter Across rain torn grass, Vines caressing leaves Fallen from bare trees To the right, the garden Holds a scene of crush - Remains of rose petals Create a scene of red Shimmering beneath Lightning strikes One blood red petal fallen For every death occurred In this unknown village But there in the midst Lies a rose of black, Drenched in sorrow From its very tip To the loose roots Remained in the soil A few darkened petals To remember our losses, But a living death Meant for true hope

Literature

On my corner

I stand on my corner sometimes with a sign sometimes with my voice sometimes I don't stand at all but today I stand, I stand on my corner and scream I scream warnings, tidings blessings and curse in the hopes someone will hear them. I stand on my corner and no one walks by I see no one near and I cry out for someone to come for anyone to help me to offer me something even if its just shelter from the downpour cascading down my cheeks. I stand on my corner and no one stands with me and the crushing truth of that forces me to fall. No one offers me a hand I have no way to rise and so I sit on my corner, sometimes with tears, sometimes with scr

Suggested Collections

Writing and Poetry

Literature

Slate Blue

Slate blue clouds cloak the dawn, crepuscular rays creeping round the blockade to wake songbirds and squirrels. The mill house wheel clacks and tumbles; yeast rises like a whisper. Only the blueberry thicket knows that the taste of sunlight keeps the bread warm.

Literature

but where is the blue

You know how to be just skin. You know how to remove every molecule of air. Every molecule of the unknown. You can nail yourself to the juniper trees. You think you will. Stab through every callus with peels of that ragged bark. Your back to the gnarls. They catch fire so easily, you know.

Literature

Gnossienne

You never told me that you play the bass. Some stories I hear over and over again - Xerox computers, meeting well-known authors - but others I learn haphazardly, stumbling into tidbits and details like a newborn fawn - a junior year spent living on pancakes; a car accident; animating projects in the early days of Flash. You never told me you play bass, piano, guitar. And I worry - what other talents and footnotes are buried too far in the past to light up on my radar? What will I learn about you only after it's too late?

Poetry and Literature

Literature

Guilt that eats

Maybe I should have questioned why your teeth always chattered like fingers clicking on a typewriter, and why your fingernails looked as though faint, blue ink had bled through but who questions anything but hair, makeup, and boys at the age of sixteen and maybe I should have noticed the lunches you spent doing homework, or listening to music, as you gave away your lunch, because you said you were not hungry- and I silently thought more for me and maybe I should have wondered why you walked through the hallways with pockets of graphite under your eyes, as your knees knocked together like keys on a lanyard: clink clink clank and maybe t

Literature

Introvert

Everyone's trying to get out of the shadow of their parents- I'm here trying to get out of the shadow of myself.

Literature

You're Not?

You're anorexic if you're thin You're not? Then you're obese. If you're different, you're insane You're not? Then you're a fake. If you're happy, you're hiding something. You're not? You must be emo. If you're dating, you're a slut. You're not? You must have no friends. If you're popular, you're a jerk. You're not? You're a nobody. If you're quiet, you must be disabled. You're not? You obnoxious freak. If you're you, you're wrong. You're not? Then you must be perfect.

poetry

Literature

some days i think id like to eat the universe.

pass the stardust, darling. there is never enough flavour for this greedy palate, tongue sponging across the acrid surfaces- not every world is as green as ours, of course. somehow, everything you touch ends up tasting vaguely like dust & ashes. (we've had them before, of course. the skeletons of our demons were strangely... satisfying.) you whispered late one night that maybe i shouldn't be here. maybe i shouldn't be. even if i was, i was probably born in the wrong skin, anyway. now that i think about it, it makes sense. i always did want to taste the nebulae, & drink the souls of the dead. it would probably lower the number of ghost

Literature

Once Upon a Carcass,

I loved her like the flaws in barbed wire; it stung. & I needed to take her castle ribs- but I was jealous of heaven. She spoke through her bones. She: a beautiful decay draped along my apartment, & the mess of my mouth. When she left, I cried big ugly tears for the First Aid of her heartbeats I needed Draco. I needed her. “Is it sweet?” She meows even still with all my self-doubt. This thing, I must not feed it- As I still long to leave galaxies along the length of her entire bed.

Literature

sitting on the roof

sitting on the roof with the ghosts like so many feathers rippling soft over my shoulders. i'd like the sun to set but we are not there yet. thinking: why do we sit on roofs hungry for night to fall. thinking: if i loved her did that make it ok. sitting on the roof with my secrets, ok or not ok, thinking about definitions. about "discourse", how it shapes. thinking about the unsayable, the clamp over my teeth, something i cannot write down or transcribe phonetically or draw or scribble or bear- thinking about hands. about "no" and silence. thinking about definitions. sitting on the roof watching that face, that pale bird, with her blame

Featured in Groups

Comments2

Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In

Moosezoomin

May 3, 2014

This is exactly the kind of poetry I love: brief, poignant, deep, where every word screams a thousand and more. Fantastic!

DeviantArt - Homepage

DeviantArt Facebook DeviantArt X DeviantArt Instagram

About Contact Core Membership DeviantArt Protect

Developers Advertise Terms of Service Etiquette

Careers Privacy Policy Copyright Policy Help and FAQ

Watch Team and join our Community Group for the latest updates and activities.

Join Community