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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
February 17, 2012
While it is personal writing, *IrrevocableFate's Of Half-Filled Words tackles the matter of sadness in a way that is both honest and engaging in its wording and imagery.
Featured by ikazon
Literature Text
She is not a flutterbird.
Her fingers are skittish,
her smile is not.
Do not fear that you will
drive it away.
Sadness is her fumbling limb.
It is unwanted, yet
necessary.
When it is January
she will tell you,
"I am still struggling.
And I am becoming so many people
all at once.
A conglomeration of beauty that
I have managed to mangle.
Please, do not be sad for me."
Sometimes her sorrow is
meant for you. But mostly her.
Those specks and spots
of ocean storm lulls
reveal her truths:
ones she does not want
to extract from herself.
Her heart is not a rabbit.
When it beats
faster, faster, faster,
you need not
run harder to catch it.
Her fingers are skittish,
her smile is not.
Do not fear that you will
drive it away.
Sadness is her fumbling limb.
It is unwanted, yet
necessary.
When it is January
she will tell you,
"I am still struggling.
And I am becoming so many people
all at once.
A conglomeration of beauty that
I have managed to mangle.
Please, do not be sad for me."
Sometimes her sorrow is
meant for you. But mostly her.
Those specks and spots
of ocean storm lulls
reveal her truths:
ones she does not want
to extract from herself.
Her heart is not a rabbit.
When it beats
faster, faster, faster,
you need not
run harder to catch it.
Literature
couldn't blue
i draw a picture of
tomorrow morning:
a man in a silver box sells
75 cent coffee and bad bagels.
his shirt is the kind of blue no one ever
tried to name a crayon after.
dust-plastic blue,
tried to love you
(couldn't)
blue.
and the morning is that same color,
the color of canned lightning-bugs and
unfiltered cigarettes and desire,
because that is all you
draw with couldn't blue.
i pay him 1.25 in change and purse-lint
so that a fourth-world factory can make more
silver boxes to sell more things
more stale blueberry muffins.
and he will keep gathering change
in 75 cent purse-lint increments
in the small sinking townships of
Literature
anemic, broken, and growing up anyway
when my sister was five, she dictated a letter to me in her strong little voice
while dust drifted in the sunshine
of our creaky old room.
dear me [she said],
barney is the best. i will wear blue all the time even though i'm a girl. my heart beats without me telling it to and that's pretty cool. i think people always feel better if you tell them you love them. i will always smile because i have dimples when i smile.
love,
me.
"did you write it?" she asked, and i told her i did, every word
with the chunky yellow pencil i'd fished out of my school bag.
i handed her the letter, and she folded it up carefully
and she smiled.
when my s
Literature
A Textual Annealing
A thousand thousand generations
misinterpreting the lightning,
A tumult of attempts, many
mumblings while we burn - each time
most is lost, some survives.
At the whistle of illusion that awakens,
day drops dream on me. I am
thick with swerve: If there are giants
there is a world they walk on.
And for the final faith
to be an inversion: We are
the electricity lunging toward the sky.
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It feels like it is missing something. I'm not sure how to explain it or if I wrote it that way. [It's been lingering in my massive document of unfinished and unedited works for a few weeks and I am suddenly in a poetry mood.]
Sometimes I feel like I don't know how to write anymore.
I am sorry for deciding to take over your inbox in pretty much every single area.
You always have my love you guys. Seriously. 
I support #dALinkSystem!
'lion skinned, rabbit hearted' by =meganbreukelman and =ohsparrowsong
It feels like it is missing something. I'm not sure how to explain it or if I wrote it that way. [It's been lingering in my massive document of unfinished and unedited works for a few weeks and I am suddenly in a poetry mood.]
Sometimes I feel like I don't know how to write anymore.
I am sorry for deciding to take over your inbox in pretty much every single area.
You always have my love you guys. Seriously. I support #dALinkSystem!
lion skinned, rabbit hearted. i am awoken by a light tapping on my door and a kiss on my forehead. the stars still rest outside of my window; it is midnight and you are a hurricane. you have this stone wall around you; when we're entwined, i still feel canyons between us. when we're together, i feel we are apart. the cold air separates flesh and shows just how different we are.&
you keep me 'til dawn, telling stories old and new. it is cold and my knees are to my chest, trying to fight off the chill. you pull the covers over my body, and somehow i feel even colder. the blankets are woolen, but not warm; the fibers scrape like daggers to my skin. i've never felt this fragi
lion skinned, rabbit hearted i am awoken by a light tapping on my door and a kiss on my forehead. the stars still rest outside of my window; it is midnight and you are a hurricane. you have this stone wall around you; when we're entwined, i still feel canyons between us. when we're together, i feel we are apart. the cold air separates flesh and shows just how different we are.
you keep me 'til dawn, telling stories old and new. it is cold and my knees are to my chest, trying to fight off the chill. you pull the covers over my body, and somehow i feel even colder. the blankets are woolen, but not warm; the fibers scrape like daggers to my skin. i've never felt this fragi
'lion skinned, rabbit hearted' by =meganbreukelman and =ohsparrowsong
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Comments205
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I don't know why I have never found that one here in your gallery........looks so adorable and I related so much.......make me remember so much someone........in a depressed and warm way.
and I loved so much how you ended that....."Her heart is not a rabbit.When it beats faster, faster, faster, you need notrun harder to catch it.".......even if that one you did a long time ago....when you said in the description.....you felt like you it was missing something.....the feelings through it looks so delicate .....and touch so much.....that maybe looks it was missing something for words never be able to describe feelings...what we feel.....but your poetry are full of emotions in a sincere way......in an unique way......unique like feelings we have and treasure deep insede......thank you for had posted something so lovely in DA.
and I loved so much how you ended that....."Her heart is not a rabbit.When it beats faster, faster, faster, you need notrun harder to catch it.".......even if that one you did a long time ago....when you said in the description.....you felt like you it was missing something.....the feelings through it looks so delicate .....and touch so much.....that maybe looks it was missing something for words never be able to describe feelings...what we feel.....but your poetry are full of emotions in a sincere way......in an unique way......unique like feelings we have and treasure deep insede......thank you for had posted something so lovely in DA.