ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Aloft, a lift, a life adrift,
A door, ajar, a jar enjambed
'the planned and damned' return is at hand.
I believe I'll be left, bereaved and bereft
of compassion, of fear and of mirth
It'll happen I fear at my birth.
Switch back to myself.
leave the other place behind,
its futile, you cant whisper through glass.
Just sprinkle disaster and crinkle your brow
and bow.
I want to be not here,
on this fantastic edge.
Tiptoeing on reality's blade.
My shadow is my blind-spot,
but it comes with the territory
of letting life decide for me.
Tell the glorified squeegee man to step off.
Fake language coming from my ladies.
Deciphered, it holds my cure, maladies.
Bubbling wax isn't purely an ornament
It serves, as well, as my scorned lament.
Industry serves the peripheral blue,
Both of me and you are green
and so we pull the short end of the
god-stick.
I am the scuttlebutt.
What is my relation to life?
Living it or just living?
A door, ajar, a jar enjambed
'the planned and damned' return is at hand.
I believe I'll be left, bereaved and bereft
of compassion, of fear and of mirth
It'll happen I fear at my birth.
Switch back to myself.
leave the other place behind,
its futile, you cant whisper through glass.
Just sprinkle disaster and crinkle your brow
and bow.
I want to be not here,
on this fantastic edge.
Tiptoeing on reality's blade.
My shadow is my blind-spot,
but it comes with the territory
of letting life decide for me.
Tell the glorified squeegee man to step off.
Fake language coming from my ladies.
Deciphered, it holds my cure, maladies.
Bubbling wax isn't purely an ornament
It serves, as well, as my scorned lament.
Industry serves the peripheral blue,
Both of me and you are green
and so we pull the short end of the
god-stick.
I am the scuttlebutt.
What is my relation to life?
Living it or just living?
Literature
instructions on never falling out of love
invent countless scenarios where pieces
fall into places and you fall into
his arms.
rip your chest up with bitten nails,
scourge your insides with laser-sharp
self-homing
precision-guided missiles
of unending scrutiny:
what's missing, what's missing,
what's missing.
discard fictions, soft-spoken and faceless.
you've met the real deal
and he doesn't want you.
write songs, write
this poem,
write, sing, remember
old melodies
of the broken loves of your youth.
tell yourself every bit of pain that had
passed through you before
carved a perfect spot
for this love to fill.
tell yourself, you loved him before you met him.
what you've learnt to
Literature
Forever perfect
Life can be short,
Life can be difficult,
however,
Life can be prosperous,
meaningful,
just remember,
Life can be,
how you wish it to be,
just try forever,
As life can be perfect
as long as we are together.
Literature
First Flight
How frightening that first flight must have been,
hearts racing into the unknown,
and I should wonder how those men felt
at the first takeoff into the air,
gusts of wind beneath fragile wings,
if not for loving you.
Suggested Collections
This is a lot of time and stress put together.. Finally!! How bout some thoughts please.
Comments61
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
I like it but for me the rhyming is hard to understand. That, though, is probably do to the fact that I never understood such things to begin with. I like basic rhyming, like in some of your other poems. Reading the other comments makes me realize how much I don't know or understand. Oh well though, I'm fine with my freeverse poems. Lol