Devious Journal EntryI will miss this.
Newest
A State of Imperfect ClarityLeaves, so tenebrous, fall upon themselves, Cast against an ambiguous twilight, Stemming from the limbs Of pale, close-grained wood, So desperately connected With the splintering darkness, So separate in themselves. Birch wood pores secrete Sweat, like syrup, to clot And clog; the coming together Of two, or more.A State of Imperfect Clarity
by ~SubtleDisinterest
This Sweet SoundBlack ink smears softly Marking page and wrinkled flesh As your pen moves slightly To the right and back. This smear of language Illuminated from the left Lightens, as the shadow of your grey top Greying the page, lifts. Those bold words, Glowing with the briskness of air after rain, Drop one by one Onto the page, like moisture from a main. And the damp of the green blades Marks your thoughts, and you succumb To those spots as your gaze meets my eyes, I mouth the words “show me.” Dry finger pads fall to the chair’s arm As you inhale, and therThis Sweet Sound
by ~SubtleDisinterest
InsulationWood grain separate from the board, A ginger nut hue, that of the pull That I pull. The drawer grows from my fingertips with A deep, heavy roll like the rumble Of a bear’s chest. Stripping off the wrinkled top and Matching cotton bottoms, I roll on a new piece And denim beneath black boots And turtle necks below timeless cuts of Black wool, like mounds of crafting felt, Coarse and tightly bound, In preparation for the slick black concrete, With thick blackened slush from the grime Of the gasoline. Quick steps Until the mush between my feet ceases to &nbsInsulation
by ~SubtleDisinterest
Different ElementsIn her opalescent dress Billowing out from below her elbows and Absorbing the chestnut of the siding And the chocolate of the seating, She disintegrated. One moment strings would quell the Tap of square toes, Waltz of the Flowers And heaving chests heavy from the hush, Until a crash breaks the notes And leaves her with nothing But woes And worry.Different Elements
by ~SubtleDisinterest
Favourites
A mix of poems 2oo3Put a dirty necklace around your wrist and say it's slit, Punch me in the face and then turn me into shit.. Wireless phones and cigarettes, going on job-interviews with tourettes.. You promised me a heart, but then you gave me a lung.. Now every f*cking artist in the castle is hung..A mix of poems 2oo3
The pictonary fiction is just dead memory waste, Influenced by TV-GOD and being so praised..
We feed machines to pump the fear out Inject your shots and eat through straws.. Tell your friends to tell a friend that God is here, and he'll descend.. Aitch-bone bastard celestial mas
by ~didelistic
deviantID
Devious Info
- Current Residence: That place over there [points]
- Interests: Art, writting, music, movies, reading, walking
- Favourite movie: Too many
- Favourite band or musician: Favorites change frequently
- Favourite genre of music: Most rock, a lot of indie, violin
- Favourite artist: Kevan Atteberry
- Favourite poet or writer: Joyce, Shakespeare, Hurston, Burgess, Sebold, Perlman, Austen, etc.
- MP3 player of choice: I prefer my headphones
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The question isn't who is going to let me; it's who is going to stop me.
-Ayn Rand
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The question isn't who is going to let me; it's who is going to stop me.
-Ayn Rand
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As if you could kill time, without injuring eternity.
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"Seni Sevmeyi Yürümekten Daha İyi Yapıyordum"
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"Seni Sevmeyi Yürümekten Daha İyi Yapıyordum"
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"Seni Sevmeyi Yürümekten Daha İyi Yapıyordum"
I love that fountain .
It makes me want to move to New Orleans .
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the black and red ribbon is always inked
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-nat
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