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Literature Text
One poet's verse,
an infant god's breath.
One poet's verse,
a silent star's vigil.
Motionless, the
hounds will never chase you.
an infant god's breath.
One poet's verse,
a silent star's vigil.
Motionless, the
hounds will never chase you.
Literature
Season's song
Goodbye my friends, it's hard to die,
When all the birds are singing in the sky.
But I've watched my seasons run,
Now my seasons are all done.
But there were things that I've heard,
Like a new-born baby cry,
And in warm summer air,
Two lovers softly sigh.
Goodbye to streams and autumn trees
Where young girls swirled and all the children played
Full of life and hope and dreams
Now I must face Grim Reaper's blade.
Time is near to let go,
I feel no sadness or no pain.
But remember well the touch,
Of a summer's gentle rain.
Goodbye to you, my special one,
You brought more warmth to me than any sun.
When you first touched my hand
Literature
Elysium
Rays of goldfish wash over the world,
their gleaming scales
make everything glow in honeyed tones
as the plump pumpkin of a sun
bobs along a sloshing horizon.
Festoons of lilacs and sweet peas blossom
across a sky of peach velvet,
their petal arms spread open wide
to embrace the swift slyphs
returning to their silken hearths.
In that aureate space floats
the Empyrean castle
fashioned from gilded clouds,
wherein the beloved sylph prince
sleeps on a bed of sea foam.
The pumpkin bids farewell
and rolls into the waiting lacuna.
The goldfish follow, drifting
into the opaque brume,
taking their auric gleam with them.
With glossy brushstroke
Literature
Hollow
Here amidst the bones bleached white,
the echoes become trapped in ribcages
like a heartbeat.
But it’s just a sound.
No blood pumps through the
marrow thick like
baby’s breath-
flowers for someone who is sick or dying or
dead.
No light shines
under the skin and muscle.
How dark it must be for the
delicate, fleshy bits underneath.
The lungs don’t know when it’s time to
go. No moon to guide them.
How do they know when to
stop?
Does the heart even know the color
of blood?
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update: A DLD! Such an honor! dailylitdeviations.deviantart.… (4/12/12)
This is about art, in general. But, specifically, it's about writing.
Fear of rejection should not affect your art. Some of the most profound work you ever put out there may be rejected by the general populous... even here on DA.
I always encourage writers to have audacity and dare to offend people's sensibilities. It takes a lot of grit to do this.
Updated 4/10/2018--nearly six years to the day since this got a DLD, which I understand is no longer around. Hmph. I basically rewrote the entire thing and even changed the title.
This is about art, in general. But, specifically, it's about writing.
Fear of rejection should not affect your art. Some of the most profound work you ever put out there may be rejected by the general populous... even here on DA.
I always encourage writers to have audacity and dare to offend people's sensibilities. It takes a lot of grit to do this.
Updated 4/10/2018--nearly six years to the day since this got a DLD, which I understand is no longer around. Hmph. I basically rewrote the entire thing and even changed the title.
© 2010 - 2024 cwedmart
Comments16
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Thank you for the encouragement. 