[x]

Harvest MoonThree a.m. moonlight
across lazy dust motes; a
tree scrapes the window.
Your arm weighs on my hip like
whispered promises of love.

Winter 2012 Haiku Set12-6
cats in the hall
shifting to find
the last afternoon light

12-7
all day the old cat
follows a spot of sun
down the hall

12-8
all my raked leaves
now a pile
at the back door

12-10
cold wind
street empty
a faceless penny

12-12
a cat's balance-
if you stop petting me,
I'll fall

12/21
rusted clouds
seventy miles per hour
towards the coming dawn

rootslike drowned men who have lost their
clothes and faces, they lay suspended
facing the sun and grinning without
eyes through the ripples of the water.

those passing by wonder how they got here,
these homeless men without fingers or toes
long spindly stumps twisting into lost roots:

reaching to the east, to the south,
to the homes they have forgotten.

grassy field with rustgrassy field with rust
--------------------------

I'd heard about the old car, three miles out of town and all alone. I just had to see it. It was time. School was over for the summer, my friends were at camp, and I was bored. I set out Thursday morning for a hike, following directions that Uncle Will had given me. As the heat was still growing with the climb of the sun, I found the field and wandered around looking, and looking some more, trying not to be distracted by bees buzzing in the flowers, and butterflies and baby mice. Then it was there, just a bit upslope from the bottom of a natural swale, and just below the sky at th

SolsticeOnce upon a time, when you were still sunlighthouses and shimmering existence wherever you were needed most, you found him. He was November, shaky on his first last legs, and you saw through the mind-twistings he feigned to the mind-twistings that were really there, knotted up in his dreams.

You were still birdsong then, and thunderstorms, and your bodyheat melted the frost claws that held him tight. You held onto him as his November deepened. When he howled, you howled with him, and the wind played with your voices and pressed the softness of your lungs against your cageribs—and then against each other's.

November became solstice, and

Like petals and leavesWhen she thinks of him, she thinks of tree branches:
spindly fingers spread out, stretching
in angles wide for handfuls of sky.

And she thinks of him.

She thinks of him digging his toes
into soft, damp sand,
wading in shallow depths before
being carried by crescents of the sea.

She thinks of him in a blur of curls, in the
warmth on her waist and the coolness on her lips,

pressing the memories and the maybes
like petals and leaves
to paper.

And she thinks of him.

earth circuitAnd when the sun sinks, the earth's skin crawls:

I.
I wonder if this awkward creature would notice me the way I notice him.
He's so tragic at his throne
I stare after him longingly.
And yet,
He never realizes that I'm the one
Who forever basks in his brilliant beams.
If only he knew how much brighter he could burn
[with me]
He'd light up the universe.

II.
I heard him speak of thirst, once.
The quenching lust of the stars had run dry.
So that night, I brought along a jar of acid.
(And how it gleamed in his glow).
I handed it to him, wrapped in taffeta ribbons,
screaming
I wish curdling joy
On my gurgling boy

SomedayJane and Ellis floated parallel to one another across the vast canvas of space, eyeing the marble-like planets that slowly crept past them. Their skin reflected the starlight with a dull orange sheen. Ellis had called it 'planet gazing,' an activity he apparently thought suitable for a date.

"Do you see that one below us?" Ellis said, pointing to a round blue mass.

Jane shrugged.

"Isn't it beautiful?" he asked. "I'll bet it's beautiful on the surface, too. Like the way the dust begins to spiral when a star is forming."

"Something like that," Jane said. She didn't understand his excitement. Planets were nothing interesting. They were just

in the seams(a) when I was young I was a robin that stole the eggs from another's nest.
fitted upon my stare there was a warning –
personal's too personal for me, well i
would not use wings if i had 'em.

a child of rye with a silhouette spoiled by the sun, I was, I am.

and sometimes I see some vengeful sparrows still under my fingernails;
their glistening beaks snap melodies that rib a hundred bird-bone cages,
so light you could blow 'em away with a twist of your lungs.

and there are still words jailed between my teeth and my tongue and I do not speak of,
do not think of
them,
but they rattle between bone and flesh and I
drown them s

relearning i. stardust scatters with the
direction of my pupils –
maybe secretly i am an
astrology teacher, waiting
for a sign to wink
happily at me.

ii. excuse the rambling
nature of forgotten question
marks, but tell me:
would you like to be the
object of handwritten clichés
would you like to whisper
secrets in my palm
and would you
like to be the possibility

iii. air brushes against my
skin like the torn petals
of a flower still standing.
[ hold your head up high, honey,
and tell tomorrow to wait just
a while,

iv. so you can figure out
the difference between
patience and having all the

if only, if only.i.
we drove nowhere
and we spoke a language
that nobody understood
underneath a foreign sky
blanketed in the scent of pine.

ii.
you told me
my eyes were like envelopes—
because they were always
opening
closing
fluttering to the sound
of breaking seals
and ink stained fingertips.

iii.
i told you
we should run away
to a new land
with new faces
because
i was enamored
with people i had never encountered
and places i had never gone.

iv.
you laughed at me
and said that
if i didn't spend
so much time with my head
buried in world maps
i would realize
that i was living on one.

v.
i remember
it rained that day
and the tea went cold
but the

When your hands can mimic birdsWhen your hands can mimic birds,
you lose the need for sound.
A flight of words that bear no chirp
are none the less profound.

They don't perch on a pitch.
They don't possess the need .
They fly until you've seen their song,
then silently recede.

No one could find more freedom than
the freedom granted flight.
No one can see more beauty than in
words passed left to right.

tree, fiddler crabIt took days to hollow out the soft parts
of the trunk, dig out the tree-flesh and sap,
polish the raw wood so that when he sat,
there would be no splinters. He carved his name
into the side, like a blessing, a declaration
of good fortune, and stowed his forest inside.

The Doppelganger 2The book still sings to me, and that's when I pull it from under my bed and stroke the cover. But I never open it, because I know what happens if I do it wrong. It's still blank; but only of ink. I know the secret, you see. It's how I understand the songs, and know the melodies it echoes up to me, through time. There are impressions hidden in the pages- spilled mead and raucous laughter, summer sunshine and frost on dead leaves. The last time I tried feeling them from start to finish, I passed out from the sheer weight of knowledge, and it left my brain scrambled for ages.

I found out things about my past and my family's past. I have Irish o

mutethings have been easier
without words &
we pretend neither of us care;

we stutter
splutter
laughing and choking
on puns &

when you bend me over nouns
i scream

louder
growl
more fluent.

the words are there waiting to be spoken

me . you . love

my dear, we've been mute
for so long

speak to me.

Browse More Like This

Download File
HTML, 332 bytes more ▶

More from ~Flummoxative

WarMy traitor mouth speaks words best left
In traitor shoe boxes beneath my bed
My heart, it says, "I'll take my own blood and beat,
Forgo the rush and heat, if only for some silence."
My secrets scream they would rather die
Than be shared with no one but my own judgements
My wishes take up too much space
Overlapping, overbearing
All.
Too.
Much.
My feet believe it's time to go
My eyes ask for you to say yes, say no
My wits, made dull by the thrill of suspense
Ache and think it best to wake lifeless in their beds
My questions turn to accusations, criticisms, contradictions
Making mockeries of my mistake
My pride climbs in with my

Summer-Spangled and Sea-StruckOut to open sea on a water-worn lady
Rocking and rumbling and light-washed and life-steady
Leaving behind footprints, star-wishes and fading memories
A girl I was for a weekend lost on a summer beach

Lost to summer folly and the salt-washed sand of centuries.

Optimus.I once wore a promise, rusting silver on a finger
But flushed and foolish, I lost it to the desert
Of my forgetfulness, now nothing but
A faded band on starving skin
To remind me of what once was love

AndromedaYou are the golden thread upon which the whole world swings, a borrowed thing of heaven
Your kiss is a bittersweet summer and your eyes are oceans
Your smile is a downpour of myriad jinxes, and your artist hands, a thousand hurts
A boy, broken, a sunset bruise

A pulse, you say?

A love of late, the shadow on the wall
A pinprick of doubt, calm before the storm
The doppelganger blood-beat of February through March
Sleight of hand: he stole my heart

Sorry, you must be mistaken

The wise man said we were all too small to talk to God
How could he cast me down so?
His words, a false-bottomed box of fibs and secrets
Hush, we're trying to

TaylorTake my battered pride and rush out into the city
Kaleidoscope eyes, we knew this wouldn't end pretty
The story goes: jump and fall through
Left sitting here sinking into the yesterday that is you
My little boy of insecurities
Won't you come down from the sun and smile for me?
You built your world around her, spinning on an axis of chance
But it's a running cosmic joke; you're always stitching up the shards of glass
Insincere as sincerity gets
The bidding's gone twice, I lost the bet.

I. Lost.

Fare Thee WellLeaning against the chain-link fences
Thinking back to a lifetime ago
It smells of grass, of lonely nights, forgotten friends,
And heartbreak.
Spoken of only in the wind of high summer
The lapping of the hungry tide on the infinite shore
The murmur of these ghosts
That
We have left it all behind

View Gallery · View Prints

Featured in Groups:

#BleedingHeartsPoetry
A Poetry Club

#Live-Love-Write
Literature Lovers

#theWrittenRevolution
The words are the spark.

#DD-Catalogue
The Home of Daily Deviations

#knownames

#Female-Artists
Empowering Women Artists

#LiteratureAnonymous
For People Who Love Literature

#wordflight
Let Your Words Take Flight.

Show all (12)

Details

Submitted: June 19, 2012
File Size: 332 bytes
Submitted with: Sta.sh

Link

Thumb

Statistics

Comments: 65
Favourites: 206 [who?]
Views: 3,680 (7 today)
Downloads: 149 (0 today)

[x]

I Of You

by ~Flummoxative, Jun 19, 2012, 6:40:58 AM
Literature / Poetry / Romantic / Teen / Free Verse

_{I want you to break
and never bend for me,

see my history
spiderweb your brilliance
till you belong to me
(and I, to you)
utterly and forever

and know
you cannot stop this.}

I Of Youby ~Flummoxative

Literature / Poetry / Romantic / Teen / Free Verse

©2012-2013 ~Flummoxative

_{”you are the never of my forever,
you are my love, my love, my love.”

The English’s translation of Carla Bruni’s song Le toi du moi is You Of Me.

Critique [link] on ~IOwnSarcasm's piece, in the seams. Go check it out.

I feel as if it’s a bit short. Might edit or add it to something bigger later on. What do you think of the length? What do you get from this? General comments please.

No plagiarizing.}

FEATURED

=Sammur-amat's Special Sundae Feature
Title used in ~RestlessSands's salt, for #TheTitlePage

EDIT, November 25, '12: Oh my goodness, a DD, what the heck, this was so unexpected. Thank you so so much!! Especially to *Mrs-Freestar-Bul and `thorns!

Daily Deviation

Given 2012-11-24

I Of You by *Flummoxative ( Suggested by *Mrs-Freestar-Bul and Featured by `thorns )

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~RestlessSands Apr 4, 2013

ive borrowed your title for a found title poem: [link]

Reply

~Flummoxative Apr 5, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Reply

~emo-art Feb 25, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

"you are the never of my forever"...I love that line ^_^

Reply

~Flummoxative Feb 26, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Carla Bruni is awesome.

Reply

~emo-art Feb 26, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

damn right! ;o

Reply

~Sigma-Echo-Seven Jan 8, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Shivered when I read this. Well done.

Reply

~Flummoxative Jan 9, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Reply

=LadyofGaerdon Nov 27, 2012 Professional Writer

...wow. Congrats on the well-earned DD.

Reply

~Flummoxative Nov 29, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you.

Reply

~PumpkinFocker Nov 24, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Very interesting! I like it! Cheers!

Reply