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Keep your powder dryi.
he looks away, the lines under
and around his mudded eyes as
known to me as my own,
as known to me as the hot air
of the death months, the death December,
the blowfly fester, the light stretched
and bright to breaking;
as known to me
as the eucalyptus leaves
that are slicks of fragrant summer
in every January of every year I have
ever lived –
as known to me as the smell of my
floating ’cross the ruined cities
of Christmas lunch –
i am six. he puts the air rifle
against my shoulder, and tells me to
pull the trigger tight.
i’ll try, dad,
The Purple and the SunSpill your blood on the seven swords –
as darkness comes, they are shouting
Artos, Artos, Artos.
You are not just a man. I’ll say it again,
even as you sweat and grunt, shag-headed,
terrible and real. You are not just a man. Let your
heavy head fall, and become
the bones of the hills
and the birds
of the sky.
Let them claim you for their own,
Emperor, o Emperor,
even as the smoke tastes bitter
on your tongue. The Sun is setting,
and the thing is done. Die, and live forever,
with what you’re given.
A crown of oak leaves,
and a lake,
for your resting place.
Touchand given that my life is not so much a life
as it is a void, and not so much a void
as a transposition,
three steps away from the
truth of things,
a smear of grease-paint vision,
given that i have spent hours with
my back on the asphalt spine
staring at the pale shell of the sky and
imagining myself as nothing but the
nothing i saw,
the paper-bone annulment of life,
some misstep between
‘born’ and ‘die’,
given all this, i had no choice
but to throw myself down
at the temple of incarnation,
and say before i drowned:
‘oh lord, save me, for i have
lost it all, and i am floating,
and i am falling,
and i am gone’.
at first i offered him blood sacrifice,
or close enough,
stinging tallies of the days
when i could not remember
what it felt like to be alive –
i decorated my skim-milk thighs
and waited for fruit,
or stars, to burst
behind my eyes.
but then i learnt better ways, gentler ways,
things that he gave me, or perhaps
things that i gave him
hoping for shooting stars
sending a prayer
blowing out candles
puffing out dandelions
watching for ladybugs
jinxing others. . .
the kind of silly things i do
just to wish for being with you.
fought for recovery after i lost myself in battlethey exclaim that one cannot recover on their own.
that it requires an army of family and friends
to find ones way out of that state-of-mind, victorious
so i began to build an army, and begun with you, my first (and last) warrior
i bestowed upon you the means to comprehend and
the capacity to acquire a cure;
but you overlooked the concept
all my strategically placed signs blew away as you stormed by,
stating that i was merely having an internal squabble— while you?
Oh! You were on the front lines of a real war!
To you, and to them, the thoughts that plague.
i failed to mention that this battle was one of disease and infection,
this had embedded its roots deeply within the person
i (oops) forgot to say that it was an epidemic- a plague.
that this battle was fought beneath the surface of your skin,
beneath the surface of your subconscious;
as subtle as a shadow, spreading and spreading and—
you were too concerned with your own disputes and
your own casua
phantasm.though I am but a friend,
I dream of your soft hands
intertwining with mine.
I open my weary eyes,
and the phantasm is over.
please. . .
make this my reality.
he's not beautiful in the way you want him to be halo and horns
he's got hair that's naturally black
with a blonde spot from when he bleached it
and dyed it blue before going back to
his natural color.
it's coarse but it's getting softer
and right now it's cut short
but when his bangs grow out his hair turns
curly and unable to be tamed
which is how i like it because
that's how he is
mask and facepaint
his eyes are a shade of brown that
light up when he's happy into this sort of
gorgeous hazel color reminding me of
stained glass windows or broken beer bottles
shimmering in the sunlight.
his nose is rounded at the tip
and he's got freckles and the occasional pimple
and full lips that i hope our kids inherit
paired with a smile that i sometimes think
is the reason why the ice caps are melting
(he's just so warm).
tail and wings
five inches under six feet tall
and says that he'd die if i get taller than him
his arms are muscled and toned with
shoulders and a collarbone tha
The Finest RomanceThy love lives inside of me like a component,
We’re so much alike like exponents,
We did not buy our love, we own it,
I caught you in my catcher’s mitt,
Thy embrace is so tight I have to admit,
But not one I’ll ever omit,
Hopefully the only love I’ll ever have to submit,
For you will be with me forever, so our love, I’ll never forget!
If you’re the ship than I’m the captain who always goes down with thee,
For the day we get married I won’t get cold feet and flee,
For thy art the reason I am able to get down on one knee,
The only one who will hear my plea,
When I ask thou to marry me,
Thine face will light up like the sun hitting the sea,
You know I am honest and sincere, not make believe,
I grew up a long time ago, I’m not a boy who likes to tease,
Because you’re the only woman I want to see!
I hold you with ease,
Give you all of my company,
For you and I together is why I invest my time,
For with thee, I have papers to sign,
ElevateMy mood rises,
As fast as it falls,
Never perfectly in the middle,
Straight into a wall.
I wish it was my destiny,
I wish it was my fate,
I wish to let you lift me up,
A hand full of cards,
That I am forced to fold.
Lift me up above the clouds,
Where the rain can’t touch me,
Take me up to your angelic home,
Where you and I can just be.
I want you to know,
It’s never too late,
I’ll always be here for you,
Together we can Elevate.
I always think of you and me,
The lengths we could go,
The love I have for you,
And its endless flow.
I wish I could get an opportunity,
Just one date,
Then I could show you,
You make my heartbeat Elevate.
You know the wordsWhen the written word just isn't enough
What do I do?
This piece of me is crying, screaming
I can't move, I can't breathe
It slams into me when I least expect it
And it brings me down
I'm a pile of red stained glass from the blown-out window, buried just below the topsoil
Wipe of the soot, and there I am
But careful, I am sharp
Please don't let our reds mix.
The written words just aren't enough
And I'm pining for a touch
Not the written ones displayed on this seven inch rectangle of glass
And circuitry, and electricity.
I need the spoken word
The final blows
The nails to the coffin that resides inside my chest
Seal it with a voice
And I will be free.
My love, my desireMy love,
the reason that I thrive.
mean nothing when you are by my side.
is turned upside down and grows still.
their rhythm flowing into one.
the reason that I live.
everything I do is for you.
My heart's pride and joy,
my soul's very core,
it is you only I adore.
Steal you (Blissful Heavens)I don't want the blissful heavens to come
and steal you a way from me. Without you
the air to my lungs don't fill in the
spaces flowers use to grow when you touched
my heart; the acid tears that come rolling
down these cheeks of mines won't have your
benign fingers to wipe away.
Those hazel eyes of yours was a destiny
the stars never had plan upon meeting
my brown eyes furthering meeting my broken,
bend soul that hiding from the pain it
numbed a lot time ago.
chipped off nail polishTell me what to do, boy;
my nail polish is chipped off
and I know I am not perfect.
Tell me what to do, please
it's hard to swallow
and I cannot breathe
because you're out there somewhere in the world.
(Where the hell does someone like you come from?)
My lips are bitten
and my heart is sore.
People say that strong emotion is good
that it means you're alive and sensitive
that it's better than the numbing lethargy
And it's true, I've never felt this present
on this blue-and-green marble world of ours.
But oh god, I cannot take it any more.
My shoulders are thin and I am pale and sick
and I do not know if I can survive
any more of this feeling.
Tell me what to do.
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More