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91816119

art is what you make others feel
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Literature

notes from winter.

Winter sun, premature The birds distance themselves From me While the world waits To come down, heaven and all All upon my head That permanent thinness Dusky sunlight Winding through trees Washes my back like ice water The empty darkness Detached Cumulus cumulating In my throat Choking back blackness Colourless Seep into sepia Painting the tips of the trees gold Stretched out to sleep across the fields Forgetting my heart beats No echoes Sinking into the dirt

All

124 deviations
Literature

notes from winter.

Winter sun, premature The birds distance themselves From me While the world waits To come down, heaven and all All upon my head That permanent thinness Dusky sunlight Winding through trees Washes my back like ice water The empty darkness Detached Cumulus cumulating In my throat Choking back blackness Colourless Seep into sepia Painting the tips of the trees gold Stretched out to sleep across the fields Forgetting my heart beats No echoes Sinking into the dirt

Featured

124 deviations
Literature

to love and be loved.

I have the same blue eyes as my father. My hands move in gestures of confidence, speaking in spread palms and long fingers. The wind has burnt my skin, salty sweat and clear mountain air, hair bleached by a hundred sunrises. The cold, clear sky opens my pores, smile lines creasing, breathing. I love the taste of sweetness, sugary tea and singing voices. Life stories kiss my eyelids open each morning, life stories which resonate within my own; the city is my home, the city is my figure: tall and strong against the fog of people. I knew love from a young age; it enveloped me in gentle arms and held me close, showing me the value of care, of

Prose

17 deviations
Literature

notes from winter.

Winter sun, premature The birds distance themselves From me While the world waits To come down, heaven and all All upon my head That permanent thinness Dusky sunlight Winding through trees Washes my back like ice water The empty darkness Detached Cumulus cumulating In my throat Choking back blackness Colourless Seep into sepia Painting the tips of the trees gold Stretched out to sleep across the fields Forgetting my heart beats No echoes Sinking into the dirt

Poetry

77 deviations
Literature

with the curtains drawn.

When I stretch, I hear my bones crack spluttering staggering stunted trees hobbling through a gale, their knotted roots gnarled, arthritic branches horror stories trickle in through the door.

DDs, DLDs and DLRs

8 deviations
Literature

These Dreams Run - Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE Corleanne High wasn't, and never had been, a 'looker'. Tired, slumping mesh fences measured out the perimeter of its grounds, and the once proud, grand white front with its pillars and steps were a sad and sorry affair. The ribbed, Romanised pillars were blackened from the fumes of passing cars and tobacco, yellowed at the bases with foul-smelling stale urine. The school motto, Ex uno disce omnes – From one person, learn all people – was hidden beneath years of pigeon scum, the words barely showing. The stately stairs leading to the huge, double-doors which marked the entrance to the school were worn and withered with t

NaNoWriMo: First Chapters

1 deviation
Literature

10.04

i. She sits all alone by the sea before the empty stretch; whispered winds wandering through, without any hope of a realisation. ii. The hush of skin on skin, such submission in her posture to shimmy past boulders and pebbles alike into the vast emptiness -- what a wonderful death it is. To drown. iii. Wooden clunk of boats rocking against the gentle, rippling tides; brightly painted sides and glowing edges and well-ripened lichen and a lining of barnacles which soothes the onrushing memories. iv. Gravel-like hiss of sand on the sloping route up wooden stairs, creaky, crumbling boathouse; faded outlook under grey-blue c

NaPoWriMo 2012

10 deviations
Literature

victory falls: xvii

Metal wrenched apart the languishing lick of flame tore through, bearing Odin's faith forth from his father's memory. Barnstokk, burnished hall upholds its legacy; Gram gifted for blazing, bloody glory.

NaPoWriMo 2014

17 deviations