deviant art

Deviant Login
Buy ArtBuy T-Shirts & Gear Buy adCast Buy Premium Membership
Shop		  Join deviantART for FREE Take the Tour
×
Sea     
Her love was bone white,
 unblemished and
 stunning

[  but never like diamonds.  ]

 Truth then became water to
 pruning fingers and splitting lips,
 while she drowned
 in the mouth
 of a liar like me.
had I wished for sight.My wish-on-me star,
whose ears I filled to secret’s brim,
whose implosions I hemmed
still layers deeper:

I’m sorry I wore stitches
and scabs with try-agains.

You sacrificed paper dreams,
Crumpling and sending airplane
answers until my skies were
wishgiving.

Apologies have sweetened
on tight-pressed lips—
a thick and sultry wine—

but you’re now constellating
apparitions,  in city skyscapes;
and my vocal chords
are coarse sand

and silence.
Stardust.I partook in the poison
of your miracle, for
I believed you a magician:

You pulled chronic weariness
from my marrow—

my faith,
from hazy depths grown
too accustomed.

The eggs spoiled fast:
you pulled from your hat
an act of distrust,
and you left me

with stardust,

with stardust.
The Concept of PerspectiveI unfurl with lavender,
wild and stretching possibilities
within velvet serenity.

I sway joyously with conducting trees
and fall with musical, tumbling leaves,
recognition whole;

and for once,
time does not govern
but witnesses.

I change like the seasons,
no complicated reason...
just that I do;

it is as they always say:
some things, they never change.
a new ocean to explore.Selling souvenirs,
falling through the atmosphere;

my heart is nothing
but a thread on unsure sleeves,
fraying at the seams.

Yet I still come home to
your crystal clavicles,

giving salt to shores;

a new ocean to explore.
In October.She is chameleons,

bare-tree umbrellas
somewhere beneath
Autumn’s underbelly,

beside once-remembered friends
of once-remembered pasts,

falling fragmented in kitchen sinks
and cleaning bottles,

still
breaking hearts for puzzles,

still
bandaging wounds on tables
of answers without questions;

and she is still unknown
come next October.
A Poet's RomanceShe was the quiet sort,
tsunamis tucked
within her eyes,
anxieties pinned
to pottery skin;

she would mold herself
into moonlight butterflies
and glist'ning calla lilies,

pure and white and
beautiful.

and when night cast
itself upon her in
heated, hard'ning flames,

she’d smash herself
upon the rocks
and in morning start
again.
Supernova WakeThey star-gazed in his brain
(taking telescopes to lynching sanity)
to see just how he breathed…

how curtained eyes with lion’s mane
concealed inhaling pleas,
which carefully fell
from the shelter of paradox lips
and the crevices of chapped lies…

how tombstones bled into his teeth—
and heartbreak on his tongue—
and how under the belly of manta ray skies,

he laid to rest the dreams
he once did dare to dream.
Ink Languid           [ I watched ]
     she tore sanity
     from poetry scabs,
     manicures fraying—
     chipping.

            [ I wept ]
     she chased words
     beneath scarred vows
     within her
     drowsy veins.

            [ I broke ]
     she hung and sang
     from her tired seams:

     “I finally feel alive.”
Bone-danceMy skeleton is night
and solace,
ever the drifter
in powdered skies and
hollowed sight.

These red rivers
stir and breathe
in bone-dance:
temptation’s lullaby
for a width and stretch of slumber.

Kisses give soul to
granite marble;
and my bones,
(oh, what dreaming bones):

   they dance no more.
Memory's ConsumptionI call to you in Autumn colors—
in naked trees,
which creak and groan
under weights of solemn sky.
       Hear me…
         Feel me…
Longing swells like appetite:
insatiable and aching;
breastbones creak atop pining hearts,
which pulse in lonely torment.

Eyes become searchlights,
wild hearts a detector…
while minds observe the
sweeping of memories beneath curled leaves:
perfect for concealing,
forgetting.

but far from forgotten is the feeling—
the reality:
I burrow beneath crinkled leaves
and hope
to be
found.

With every lungful of solitude
I breathe,
With every exhale of painful dependen
Quieting the Sparrow   
"Release me, now…
   I desire wind's flight."

You do not yet understand
the thrashing of feelings—
the bite of crooning words;

You know not the cruelty of man,
nor the tip of  his arrow…

Man hunts and stalks
beauty with sardonic blatancy—
elated and brimmed with delight.
He snuffs it out with senses akin to savage beasts,
crippling  prey with fearsome teeth.

However, amongst fear and shattered aspirations,
there is no greater rush than to hunt
and be hunted…

but once caught:
reality wakes cold.
UnfoundedI cram words within murky, hollow spaces,
replicating ways in which blood fills a wound.

I squeeze articles and adjectives—
supporting metaphors and similes—
into tight-fitting corners,
until that which is empty begins to bloat.

The ache of something missing,
the loss of one internal, now painfully unknown:
it finds no satisfaction within passion
and phrases so desperately created, upheld.

Why give transparent, misleading hope…
Does pleasure derive from humiliation—
the catalyzing of previously weakened hearts?
Where is the limit of cruelty defined,
if not in the cries and weeping of dreams:

Language wilts
04 - Remember MeThink not of decay when reapers lay claim,
Nor of sharp loss in following mourning;
On that day let hushed pleasantries acclaim.
And kiss the life from dulled eyes, unseeing.

Find not thy feet above flower-laid stones:
‘Neath earthly linen I shan’t rouse for thee.
So whether memories make new or old:
Beloved love, remember me fondly.

Sell thy sorrows to swift merchanting winds,
Be stolen by thy existence and time.
Overlook me for sanity’s defense,
But discard me not to the undefined.

My life doth re-begin through memory,
So my beloved love: remember me.
EnzymaticIn my tears I drowned for you
when my cries could not grow fingers to    r    e    a    c    h ;
you were apathy wrapped in silent smiles,
which touched and made to feel.

I felt you—discovered you,
like children sent scavenging for
hidden notes and clues;
you were a jagged jigsaw puzzle
lovingly pieced together…

Done in silence,
through studied observations
and tentative smiles aimed at shoulder blades;
you would never grant me access
if you knew my subtle intimacy…
left one-sided and aching like
goodbyes rolled into single nights of warm
Browse More Like This

More from ~Nullibicity

Hollowing My HeartYour fleshly home…
I  crawled  right in.

Vein and artery cradled me
Within open womb;
The origin of safety and adulation.

and so I burrowed, nestled—
excavated:
finally accepted into your heart
and bodily corners…

Where you could never  
             l e a v e  me,  

Where you would always
             l o v e   me.

I bound myself to you,
and became your everything.
If Love Would Leave a LegacyYour lovely crystalline bones,
wrapped tight inside chilled casing,
laying strewn against old cherry wood
with company of lover's notes upon your lower lip;
a last caress of parchment as we bury you in earth.

Goodbye my love, Goodbye,
words that refuse to leave lips chapped and clamped in mourning,
as silent and white as knuckles curled in trembling fists.
Reddest rivers slink sultrily down tight airways, filled with aching hunger,
and sliding alongside sores of salivated lies,
where I swallowed all my silent sobs in concurrence with
these barbed and yearning sentiments.
It was nowhere near enough.

Regret shall rid unsightly
CrescendoCellos sing an agony of the heart;
an astringent song of parting,
tearing at tears burrowed deep within the iris.  

Emptiness fills the void of your absence,
accompanied by an intolerable yearning
which asphyxiates me, submerges me
within tears I leave unshed.

Please mollify me,  liberate  me,
of your reminiscence, of this attentive desertion;
my trembling whispers cannot stray from your name.
I cannot dream of alien touches, or others' devoted affections:
the salvation provided for the heart I keep in darkness.
and I find I cannot blind it to the joys of light once entirely experienced,
and so candidly felt.

I blam

Featured in Groups

:iconpoetry-book: :iconeerie-and-enchanting: :iconinsanely-artistic: :iconlooselacespoetry: :iconthe-poetry-cafe: :iconliterature-realm: :iconart-for-the-soul: :icondramaticpoetry:
×

.Were We Not Marionettes

:iconnullibicity:

I bend
as
she bends,
arms a graceful
bridge of mourning—

our eyes
rippling plains of remembrance.
(but at least we remember)


I lean beside
her,
both hopeless
heaps of wood
and string;


 pirouettes fall
 in time to blurry
 rivers

 and irises plead
 only as allowed:

 moisturizing this
 shell of
 splintered skin.

162

14 15 0
:iconnullibicity:

.Were We Not Marionettesby ~Nullibicity

DescriptionDetailsShare
(I never
hope to
move.
again. )
------------------

There always seem to be ifs ... but ifs are painful.
©2013 ~Nullibicity
Category: Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Details

Stats

Submitted on
January 19
File Size
593 bytes
Views
162
Favourites
14 (who?)
Comments
15
URL
Thumb
Only verified accounts can report policy violations. Please check your email and click on the verification link.
* Required field
Add a Comment:
 
Preview   Add Comment
:iconscorpionholiday:
~ScorpionHoliday Apr 14, 2013
it has a powerful rhythm and everything seems to flow. It's sorrowful, however, but that isn't a bad thing. Sometimes there is beauty in sadness.
Reply
:iconnullibicity:
~Nullibicity Apr 20, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
There is much beauty in tragedy, I believe. Look at Shakespeare, for example: so many people love the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet. That, and I personally believe when sadness is turned into beauty, it is a beautiful thing within itself... and it is my dream to one day be able to do this. This is why your comment means so much to me: It is a sign that I may be getting closer (:

Thank you for taking the time to comment! :heart:
Reply
:iconscorpionholiday:
~ScorpionHoliday Apr 26, 2013
I believe the same. I have always believed that tragedy, sorrow, and death are a beauty that humans can rarely see. I think that's why fall is so beautiful. When the leaves are dying, and everything is withering away, it unwinds and reveals a beauty that's too hard to understand. We're not supposed to find death as sad as we do. We're supposed to understand that it is another part of life, and that nothing would be as important without it.
Reply
:iconnullibicity:
~Nullibicity Apr 26, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
I could not agree more with your description! You stole the words right from my heart :love: I wish more people were able to see it in this light. Autumn is, in fact, my favorite season and the object of my frequent obsession. It is just so unique, and it teaches us so many things in its birth and in its death.
Reply
:iconscorpionholiday:
~ScorpionHoliday Apr 27, 2013
I think if we keep talking about it, eventually that will happen. just keep it up I suppose!!
Reply
:iconbloodawni:
*bloodawni Feb 17, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Oh, this is so beautiful in its sadness. Lovely.
Reply
:iconnullibicity:
~Nullibicity Apr 7, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Your comment made me smile!
Thank you so much! :heart:
Reply
:iconrenosgirl77:
~RenosGirl77 Jan 30, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Wow, there's a whole story within here - your skill with words is just amazing. The atmosphere of loss and grief is offset beautifully by a sense of hope in the final two stanzas. Great job, keep up the fantastic work!! XD
Reply
:iconnullibicity:
~Nullibicity Apr 7, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
I always think it's amazing to get comments with new perspective! I had not written this poem with hope in mind, but after reading it with new eyes, I think I can see it does leave the possibility open! I quite enjoy discovering new things about my poetry!

I'm glad you liked it! I'm so grateful, as always, for your wonderful comment :hug:
Reply
:iconrenosgirl77:
~RenosGirl77 2 days ago  Hobbyist Writer
Awesome, I'm so glad you found my comments so helpful!! :) I'm amazed, but happy, that my thoughts could have so much of a positive impact!!

You are absolutely welcome, as always - it's a pleasure to read your work, and it only seems fair that I tell you what I think. Also, a lot of the time your poetry moves me so much that I can't contain my feelings. :)

Have a great day and DFTBA!! I can't seem to stop saying that...oh well.
Reply
Add a Comment:
 
Preview   Add Comment
©2013 deviantART. All rights reserved
About Us | Contact Us | Developers | Careers | Site Tour | Help & FAQ Advertise | Premium Membership Etiquette | Privacy Policy | Terms of Service | Copyright Policy