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Literature Text
sun goes down, the final set
lost your colors and your sight
follow the shuffling feet
below the surface
cavern drops before you
crawls down through the soil
fire flickers along the walls
like Plato's twisted gods
they pull you further
urging, coaxing, whispering,
draw your name in soot
write only what you see
shadows on the blindfold
cast across the burning rope
frost melts on your tongue
breath comes cold and heavy
"Let us alight upon
your weary brow
(and press the thorns
stuck through our hands)."
the gate is closed
and all that's left
is us and them,
the idol and the pit
they promised no religion
down in the lion's den
but would you know
if they chose to lie again?
lost your colors and your sight
follow the shuffling feet
below the surface
cavern drops before you
crawls down through the soil
fire flickers along the walls
like Plato's twisted gods
they pull you further
urging, coaxing, whispering,
draw your name in soot
write only what you see
shadows on the blindfold
cast across the burning rope
frost melts on your tongue
breath comes cold and heavy
"Let us alight upon
your weary brow
(and press the thorns
stuck through our hands)."
the gate is closed
and all that's left
is us and them,
the idol and the pit
they promised no religion
down in the lion's den
but would you know
if they chose to lie again?
Literature
notesleep
playing my emphases like harp strings
your voice smokes thru the oaken bramble
pour a carbonated apology, a sun-stained
mile marked envelope, two ill-fitted birds,
hands small holes right before a rush of river
what it feels like being swallowed from the outside
crushing rings into truth serum, pretend
to be out of tune with that deception
I have been unable to parse my own persona
a pink cotton voice I remember thru the phone
I remember because it formed me into a granary
one crop after another of patriarchal idioms
whisper my secrets so softly into a glint of red hair
a saucer-eyed lace pattern cut into pine paper
I practice radical self lo
Literature
280
pen across paper
the rhythmic tapping of keyboard running
my being is letters
yet i cannot make words
Literature
Home
Dear you
You probably don't know
I wrote about you yesterday
and the day before that.
But my favorite part was when you made me tea and it tasted like home.I drank all of it because that is what normal people do,but when I took your cup to the dishwasher
I saw you left a lil bit of tea in it, just like I normally would and i felt even more at home.
Today when you were siting next to me I was cutting out the word home from my paper and it seems like you have been a round a lot when the word 'home' is used but I guess that's one of the building blocks to start building a home, is someone who's going to be around.
I woke up this morning with a
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Been crazy busy here, but this is something I've cobbled together throughout November.
I chose "spiritual" as the category for this one. Don't ask me why; just felt right.
[[My work is copyright to me]]
I chose "spiritual" as the category for this one. Don't ask me why; just felt right.
[[My work is copyright to me]]
© 2012 - 2024 Sigma-Echo-Seven
Comments18
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This was an engaging read, for me! It seemed to drag me deeper and deeper within its depths, as it continued to whisper lines into my mind. I really felt as if I were being sucked down into this abyss of the lions den, so I thought that was incredible!
I quite liked the third stanza. That last line just seemed to send a spark through me, and I instantly became more attentive. I just... that line! "Write only what you see..." it was just brilliant. Perhaps I feel such a connection to this, because as a child, I had an art teacher who constantly told us students to "Draw only what you see." I always took this to mean we were only supposed to draw what was true. So seeing this line... it seems as if you are finding the truth and writing it. Though that probably wasn't your intention. I really enjoyed it, though!
However, That fifth stanza, I think, steals my entire heart. There is so much emotion here... you write with such unrestrained passion! The fact you can push so much within these words... it's just beautiful! I think art should bring about one's passion, and I'm so delighted to see you put so much of that love into your words.
Lovely job!
I quite liked the third stanza. That last line just seemed to send a spark through me, and I instantly became more attentive. I just... that line! "Write only what you see..." it was just brilliant. Perhaps I feel such a connection to this, because as a child, I had an art teacher who constantly told us students to "Draw only what you see." I always took this to mean we were only supposed to draw what was true. So seeing this line... it seems as if you are finding the truth and writing it. Though that probably wasn't your intention. I really enjoyed it, though!
However, That fifth stanza, I think, steals my entire heart. There is so much emotion here... you write with such unrestrained passion! The fact you can push so much within these words... it's just beautiful! I think art should bring about one's passion, and I'm so delighted to see you put so much of that love into your words.
Lovely job!