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Was it just a glimmer on the ends
of what makes the cohering shadows revere,
what accompanied the ends
of dim drawing premises
scattered and moving whims,
dark as self-defacing

how can you stop what slowly
backs and wither's away
spilled out of the premise
of everything, was a
black widows display 

unravelled from the ends
of nothing, where everything shows.
what resides from the ends
of our dark governing road,
dark or light or stranded wishes

recollections of
daydreams, distant
matters 
of what was discovered lost
chasing intrusive shadows
that covet cupboards locked

maybe a locksmith, did not need
a key nor a lock, just to peer
where none did see
to endear endure to end
a door to your beginning 
I'm featuring art from various people. who I feel deserve some recognition. Writers and general artists.
Here I will list some of their works, hopefully it will show some diversity. 
This will be based on my opinion and from others points of view. Well lets do some building people. Stay awesome!
 

Featured (deviant) artists:                                        

lingering-sun setting-
the light fading
from sight
leaves glisten-
twilight after
the rain
sweet fragrance-
four o'clocks call
their moths
  -   heliotropic
color of sunlight
row on row of sunflowers
turning their faces

worshipers follow
chariot of Helios
west to horizon

then turning again
they look towards the dawn
anticipating
forever faithful
yet never to reach their god
shedding seeds as tears

rooted in the earth
hearts forever following
the path of the sun
        
 
check out his other work here                                                  
cattservant.deviantart.com/                                             


Love a GirlLearn to love a girl…
who doesn't love herself.
Learn to love the way
she desires your attention.
Learn to love the way she
follows you down the hall:
learn to love her whimsical smile.
Love this girl,
who wants your acceptance.
Learn that she was never average.
She is one of a kind.
Cherish that girl:
for those feelings don't last forever.


check out her other work here
vivyi.deviantart.com/


i am a dragon (you can't hear my roar)my words have always
bruised the back of my throat
beating my chest until i burst
but i've never had something
scrape my larynx 
like self-induced vomiting.
i really am a dragon
living in a cave of my own pathetic self-pity
too afraid to let anyone kiss my wounds
and too stubborn to let myself lick them.
crooked teeth, broken wings
and so many scars 
i can't even count them
but somehow, it's not enough
somehow, i still want to add more
i have no idea how
i haven't jested with 
silver knights in so long
(especially with these fangs
dragging themselves over my shoulders
screaming for someone to kill me)
it's been months since my suicide attempt
but i can already feel flames
flickering in the back of my eye sockets
and i hate it
and i hate myself because i still
am not better
i thought you were supposed to be grateful
for surviving
i don't want to die
i just want to drench
this fire in my bones
but i'm getting the feeling 
that doing that
and killing myself
is the same
i hopeeverything is going to be okay.
it's getting harder and harder 
to look at my wrists and not want to
slice them open and show the world
all the ugliness that's been brewing inside
breathing broken glass into my lungs
i miss you dancing without red fingertips
i miss you
i miss--
there's no point in missing what's gone. 
i can't stop crying and
i'm cringing at my thoughts and
shriveling up inside myself
i do not want to exist anymore
i never asked to breathe
i never asked
i never--
it's all too fucking real for them.
i was born in cancer and grew up
in threatened suicides
but i am only allowed to talk about things
i've been through
in past-tense
because me being in this kind of pain is
too real for anyone
too real for
too real--
no one ever talks about the sound.
like tearing thin paper
or the sound of a lighter when you flick it on
so maybe that's why i crown myself a
dynamite heart
because of the sound i've used to ignite it
and you're tearing your outsides apart because


check out her other work here
dynamitehearts.deviantart.com/


Arachne     i.                      
She glimpses out of my mind
Like a fraying ghost from pearl treaded stories
She flickers in and out of dry sea waves
Sparkling softly, she whispers
“You lost me”
    ii.                    
Frayed strings on curtain rings
Snap and spun, silky in the sun
Crumbling threads from the spider’s web
Crack and laugh, the labyrinth’s last
    iii.                   
Whispering “I’m guilty” and whispering “love me”
She slips away, hiding in the sunlight’s breath
Her words are tiny pearls, she drops them at my feet
Watching my fingers stroke them
The indescribable p
ColorsI can sketch the colors of the wind
On a blanket of nature's insecurities
As sunlight cuts through pool water
And the rivers slowly grow brown 
I sketch the colors of the wind 
Shading in the smoke abound 
And if the colors had ever been brighter 
If nature wasn't smoldering in the deep
Perhaps we all could be sitting up here 
Loving earth with our empty sheets



check out her other work here
fantasylover103.deviantart.com…


  My death poem
Come immortal silence, deliver me from broken shores to bottom of ocean's low pitched abyss.
There where my motionless heart can sleep in the forlorn hope of pitiless peace.
Sing to me waters of the deep, as I sink into your soothing embrace.
Come sweet death, close mine tired eyes and clasp my cold fingers tightly.
Sever my soul from the sun above and take me deep below,
There to rest upon the mourning sands where I may never be disturbed again.
Come blessed rest, speak no more. Let my voice be still upon the motherly warmth of thine soft breast.
My ashes settle into the sands of heaven's gate, dissolved by the kiss of your sweet blessed death.


check out his other work here
nofacetheowl.deviantart.com/


synchronicityenvious blossoms

luring papillon earthward-
reflective beauty

nature's pas de deux
butterfly and sweet flower-
an eternal dance

silken-petalled heads
beneath en-pointe kisses bow-
budding communion

the heat of the sun
stirring small hearts into flight-
the soul of motion 
each beat of a wing 
strikes a chime in the garden-
sublime harmony
[sublime collaboration with Old Mule/cattservant~mine in italics]


check out her other work here
arwynandcole.deviantart.com/


Barkley to BrooklynMy girlfriend writes to me from way up north,
on an island of pine trees
where sunsets meet the silhouettes of mountain chains like a painting
every night and humpbacks cry over the calm water.
I ask her how she's doing and all she says
is It's gorgeous,
like I can't tell, from the thousands of postcards and calendars
and inspirational posters plastered with those same sunsets
she sees each night.
I know what beauty is supposed to be.
But I can't help wondering, when she asks how I am, how is New York,
will she understand when I say the city
spread out below me, lights shining in a rainbow against shadows
of muted glass and steel
is just as beautiful?
The energy and the glow of the streetlamps
lighting dim concrete sidewalks in the city that never sleeps
and the cars still rushing past on the street below
at 3 AM and the music blasted from the apartment next door
are beautiful.
This is how we know we are alive,
and those same red clouds
signaling calm seas to the fisherman on


check out her other work here
seaplume.deviantart.com/



.maybe someday i will master the art of
pouring my soul onto the page in the form of
words
but for now, i am clueless as to
how to express the empty hole in me where
anger and hatred should be, and
for now i am clueless as to how to
express these things i've never felt
before (like love, and trust, and
happiness)
and for now i still have no way of
apologising without saying "i'm sorry" or
promising without saying "i promise"
(i suppose i am still just a lonely little
girl who never learned how to live)


check out her other work here
x-forgetmenot-x.deviantart.com…



Fourfold BeauMountains are born from Earthly convergence,
Crashing turbulent winds and catching fallen snow,
For water is patient, but water is nervous,
Never still for a moment in its cyclic flow,
I'll memorize the value in my imagination
So I can paint every flake from the top of my head,
And recall distant mountains and their blueish gradation,
As you glimpse far art, into the hearts of the dead,
Born by Earth, water, wind: after a bellow it strikes,
In the mountains where cold Boreas snuffs out the sunrise,
The lightning is heat, thereby the fire is life,
First mastered by wonderment in the Sapian's eyes,
Yet fire will die, or scourge the seeds of the dirt,
Life is an elemental gift, but Death is the price,
Death by drowning, burning, storm, even the quaking of Earth,
A disease as dubious as rolling whimsical dice,
Seems so peculiar, this double edged blade,
That are the four ancient bases to all of the world,
In which to every living thing, their entwined like a braid,  
Of mother nature'
Yes even sickness inspires poetry...Sleep away the spell,
And time will make you well,
But perhaps there is a lesson,
To be learned in times of hardship,
The subconscious maybe beckons,
And in sickness there be friendship,
I don't know, can you tell?
Delve into the wishing well,
And see the stars alike,
Whilst the church is swinging funeral bells,
Is there any good to life?
If evil strikes simultaneously,
They cancel each other out,
Good and evil now extraneously,
Non-existent 'round about,
The perspective of the universe, without a cosmic doubt,
But whatever the truth may turn out to be,
Get well very soon, so that doubt may turn glee.
(Yes even sickness inspires poetry)...


check out her other work here
coraajna.deviantart.com/



cadmium and alizarineand this is where it
starts to take a twist
and this is where the
fortune must unwind:
she captures colors like
memories and pins them
to the canvas, flattens them
to brittle bristle strokes
her bright eyes, light heart
turn dust to flames
shift wire to sparks
burn doubt to cinders
i am the clay she has
shaped between her palms
and smoothed down
i have grown humble, patient,
bolder
than a meteor exploding
to the ground
"all good things come
to an end," they say,
but this finish is
tainted
by a scissor snip on
the thread


check out her other work here
peaseblossoms.deviantart.com/



disgustingit's fine, it's fine,
i'm fine, i'm okay.
you say this
with a shaky
disbelief in
the fabric
of your
esophagus.
the sadness
of the fallen
but still alive
slip through 
the slits
in between
your teeth, 
bewildered,
but not wild
your grey-green eyes
flash viridescent
in the leavings
of past petals.
but the root
of your fuse
is still intact
and you have not
lost your dynamite yet.
your heart is still
here and it's scary,
i know, but i also know
that it's not fine
and you're not okay,
but i love you anyway.
and i can't promise
that this will always
be this way,
but today i do.
tonight i do.
tomorrow i will.
and if whatever
universal force
allows it,
i will always love you.
because it is a verb.
materfamiliasmy palms spread across
the sandpaper skinned
desert of my face
and tornado drafts
scatter the sand
of my work in progress;
and i am lost
in the papers
of embryonic misguidance
sucked down
by the mosquitoes.
my soul is a
peyote-doused confusion
looking for water
and hands to hold me
from this trip.
but i am lost,
and no one can hear me--
my introvert is showing
and no one can see it
but you.
my pupils are dilated,
the pads of my fingers
are wrinkled like folded clothes
and my lips are stone-dry.
my eyes are all out of tears
and the corners of my mouth
are tearing as i scream for help--
but no sound is coming out.
but i feel the soothing warmth
of your hands on both sides 
of my dying fac(ad)e
and you kiss my forehead,
and my tense legs
ease.
(infinitum) in the
waters of your rooted soul,
my air is heavily attached,
and the ocean
of your existence
bring the hydration
when my voice dried
and withered into an anxiety
that deserted itself
within my identity.
you hold me down


check out the other work here
chromeantennae.deviantart.com/



san gabrielSometimes you dream about a burning grocery store and it means nothing.
This is me standing in a hallway realizing that the people who left
aren't showing up for dinner, that's why it's only a theory.
Look at these streetlights, look at you wearing that wreckage on your face,
soaked in radio. To white windmills flickering across the coast, to
your dogs barking like shootouts behind these gates. An old forest flashes
against the bridge and starts breathing; headlights bleach our hills and you say
What kind of ending is this, I'm never here anymore.
And Hell yeah, I think, how insane that the species blooms in catastrophe,
how improbable to survive this lottery, to conquer the probability
of having never blinked toward the blinding white shipwreck,
to find an abandoned planet and fill it with chairs. Back in the day
I'd probably moan for the other side, but now I'd argue that our people's poetry
is best understood as a consequence; not a shotgun but the stained carpet
being dragged from



check out his other work here
palaeochannel6.deviantart.com/

I don't see levels just lots of uniqueness, each one of these amazing writers all have something different to offer the reader. To delight them, intrigue them and tell lots of different stories. Our life is a story after all.
Hope you liked the poetry features I chose and I intend to do an art feature very soon!

Special thanks to:
coraajina for her input, it really helped
thanks to all the people that inspired me,
as this is nothing without all your work. So thanks!!
Going to do another feature on my page, for people who deserve some praise or just deserve to be seen.
If you know of poems or pages that I should include, please message me. I want to make it universal.
I may add art features too. We will see ^^
I'm going to try my best.  
Settled by brambles and dark wither-less trees 
that stretch without bound or bearing,
standing testament to time, land, and lawn,
Where gardens were overgrown forests. 
Where dreams had span deeper than before.
Wearing the innocence of love immersed
like chimes that grow bigger, and sycamore  
as fully-bloomed sturdiness abound,
and the ever surpassing nature of earth 
cycles to seasons summer winter autumn spring
as sturdy as words that truly were free verse,
the diversity, diligent as leaves, synthesis
of a nature well grounded and green. 

Through the valleys of a gracing sky,
within the whirling of a wind.  
As beams had touched down gracefully,
as we to were immersed and free
through the clouds of seamless white. 
Seeing shadows that chase the morning sun, 
now as the sum of everything. As precipices
passing of time. As those few changeling skies 
that reckon of the gone since, of what we owe. 
To breathe. To fly. To flow, to flowing corners.
Airy and aware, we swerve so easily, as breeze
strums the weary we, from fear. As we discover
a feather to the cap of brazen colours.

Flow to watery-lines, paintings and pigments
as the tides themselves we wave we swerve 
through rivers, seas and reservoirs 
We freeze. We melt. We fall. We flood. We surge. 
We crash, into everyone. As pockets of rain 
was it crystallised purity cleansing  to douse of a flame. 
You saw a peach-shape raindrop  ripple
like the refract-le of tomorrow. Blurred and so clear.
To cleanse the earth, to douse a  fire, creating ripples to the end.
What be-gets the ground as water drips
from the cracks of a open mouth, to keep. 
Water is wandering, not wondering, where your from.
Its a spring. Its a leak. Its water, when you splash your feet.  
 
Its red an ember a wandering flame,
and its blue its calm its lucid, 
it would roam then settle, where fires spent  
the burning midnight oil, where it introduced
us, not just destruction but life as through
burnt remains and the earth reclaims 
as rebirth from fire, to mere regains~
it glees through darkness possessed  as light 
to steer boats lost at sea, to pierce the night
was it hot was it hell, that sulphur smell  
up the nostrils up the noses as well  
or was it what guided, through skies collided
to cleanse to heal to repel

fire, water air and earth
all were synthesis to the life we know
the thesis to life that grows
and what we would be long after. 
Elements
Verse by verse. Each verse is about each element. Earth, Wind, Water, Fire. In that order.
'Like chimes that grow bigger, and sycamore' Talking about a sycamore tree.
'Seeing shadows chase the morning sun' I am talking about clouds and the different shapes they form
'Precipices. Passing of time. As those few changeling skies'  Talking about time. depending on where the sun is,  shadows move showing the passing of time. Elements are relativity, they work hand in hand. I ended the poem linking them together  in a way that allows you to make your own conclusions. 

Challenge #8- An Elemental Literature Challenge

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The leftover sense that led me
here from the dawn to summer 
on the flickering shores that remember;

the moment when you felt your life begin
the moment you felt  the summer sun
hit your skin, 

excitement, passing warm between
bodies of brazen poems
and timeless strokes that dawn of summer

my wish was to be the waves beneath
the moonlight skies that burnt emerald,
and glistened, Like a sight yet discovered

the final, precipices to dreams
from a distant wing, before the dawn
to summer
wishes were my everything.
I'm featuring art from various people. who I feel deserve some recognition. Writers and general artists.
Here I will list some of their works, hopefully it will show some diversity. 
This will be based on my opinion and from others points of view. Well lets do some building people. Stay awesome!
 

Featured (deviant) artists:                                        

lingering-sun setting-
the light fading
from sight
leaves glisten-
twilight after
the rain
sweet fragrance-
four o'clocks call
their moths
  -   heliotropic
color of sunlight
row on row of sunflowers
turning their faces

worshipers follow
chariot of Helios
west to horizon

then turning again
they look towards the dawn
anticipating
forever faithful
yet never to reach their god
shedding seeds as tears

rooted in the earth
hearts forever following
the path of the sun
        
 
check out his other work here                                                  
cattservant.deviantart.com/                                             


Love a GirlLearn to love a girl…
who doesn't love herself.
Learn to love the way
she desires your attention.
Learn to love the way she
follows you down the hall:
learn to love her whimsical smile.
Love this girl,
who wants your acceptance.
Learn that she was never average.
She is one of a kind.
Cherish that girl:
for those feelings don't last forever.


check out her other work here
vivyi.deviantart.com/


i am a dragon (you can't hear my roar)my words have always
bruised the back of my throat
beating my chest until i burst
but i've never had something
scrape my larynx 
like self-induced vomiting.
i really am a dragon
living in a cave of my own pathetic self-pity
too afraid to let anyone kiss my wounds
and too stubborn to let myself lick them.
crooked teeth, broken wings
and so many scars 
i can't even count them
but somehow, it's not enough
somehow, i still want to add more
i have no idea how
i haven't jested with 
silver knights in so long
(especially with these fangs
dragging themselves over my shoulders
screaming for someone to kill me)
it's been months since my suicide attempt
but i can already feel flames
flickering in the back of my eye sockets
and i hate it
and i hate myself because i still
am not better
i thought you were supposed to be grateful
for surviving
i don't want to die
i just want to drench
this fire in my bones
but i'm getting the feeling 
that doing that
and killing myself
is the same
i hopeeverything is going to be okay.
it's getting harder and harder 
to look at my wrists and not want to
slice them open and show the world
all the ugliness that's been brewing inside
breathing broken glass into my lungs
i miss you dancing without red fingertips
i miss you
i miss--
there's no point in missing what's gone. 
i can't stop crying and
i'm cringing at my thoughts and
shriveling up inside myself
i do not want to exist anymore
i never asked to breathe
i never asked
i never--
it's all too fucking real for them.
i was born in cancer and grew up
in threatened suicides
but i am only allowed to talk about things
i've been through
in past-tense
because me being in this kind of pain is
too real for anyone
too real for
too real--
no one ever talks about the sound.
like tearing thin paper
or the sound of a lighter when you flick it on
so maybe that's why i crown myself a
dynamite heart
because of the sound i've used to ignite it
and you're tearing your outsides apart because


check out her other work here
dynamitehearts.deviantart.com/


Arachne     i.                      
She glimpses out of my mind
Like a fraying ghost from pearl treaded stories
She flickers in and out of dry sea waves
Sparkling softly, she whispers
“You lost me”
    ii.                    
Frayed strings on curtain rings
Snap and spun, silky in the sun
Crumbling threads from the spider’s web
Crack and laugh, the labyrinth’s last
    iii.                   
Whispering “I’m guilty” and whispering “love me”
She slips away, hiding in the sunlight’s breath
Her words are tiny pearls, she drops them at my feet
Watching my fingers stroke them
The indescribable p
ColorsI can sketch the colors of the wind
On a blanket of nature's insecurities
As sunlight cuts through pool water
And the rivers slowly grow brown 
I sketch the colors of the wind 
Shading in the smoke abound 
And if the colors had ever been brighter 
If nature wasn't smoldering in the deep
Perhaps we all could be sitting up here 
Loving earth with our empty sheets



check out her other work here
fantasylover103.deviantart.com…


  My death poem
Come immortal silence, deliver me from broken shores to bottom of ocean's low pitched abyss.
There where my motionless heart can sleep in the forlorn hope of pitiless peace.
Sing to me waters of the deep, as I sink into your soothing embrace.
Come sweet death, close mine tired eyes and clasp my cold fingers tightly.
Sever my soul from the sun above and take me deep below,
There to rest upon the mourning sands where I may never be disturbed again.
Come blessed rest, speak no more. Let my voice be still upon the motherly warmth of thine soft breast.
My ashes settle into the sands of heaven's gate, dissolved by the kiss of your sweet blessed death.


check out his other work here
nofacetheowl.deviantart.com/


synchronicityenvious blossoms

luring papillon earthward-
reflective beauty

nature's pas de deux
butterfly and sweet flower-
an eternal dance

silken-petalled heads
beneath en-pointe kisses bow-
budding communion

the heat of the sun
stirring small hearts into flight-
the soul of motion 
each beat of a wing 
strikes a chime in the garden-
sublime harmony
[sublime collaboration with Old Mule/cattservant~mine in italics]


check out her other work here
arwynandcole.deviantart.com/


Barkley to BrooklynMy girlfriend writes to me from way up north,
on an island of pine trees
where sunsets meet the silhouettes of mountain chains like a painting
every night and humpbacks cry over the calm water.
I ask her how she's doing and all she says
is It's gorgeous,
like I can't tell, from the thousands of postcards and calendars
and inspirational posters plastered with those same sunsets
she sees each night.
I know what beauty is supposed to be.
But I can't help wondering, when she asks how I am, how is New York,
will she understand when I say the city
spread out below me, lights shining in a rainbow against shadows
of muted glass and steel
is just as beautiful?
The energy and the glow of the streetlamps
lighting dim concrete sidewalks in the city that never sleeps
and the cars still rushing past on the street below
at 3 AM and the music blasted from the apartment next door
are beautiful.
This is how we know we are alive,
and those same red clouds
signaling calm seas to the fisherman on


check out her other work here
seaplume.deviantart.com/



.maybe someday i will master the art of
pouring my soul onto the page in the form of
words
but for now, i am clueless as to
how to express the empty hole in me where
anger and hatred should be, and
for now i am clueless as to how to
express these things i've never felt
before (like love, and trust, and
happiness)
and for now i still have no way of
apologising without saying "i'm sorry" or
promising without saying "i promise"
(i suppose i am still just a lonely little
girl who never learned how to live)


check out her other work here
x-forgetmenot-x.deviantart.com…



Fourfold BeauMountains are born from Earthly convergence,
Crashing turbulent winds and catching fallen snow,
For water is patient, but water is nervous,
Never still for a moment in its cyclic flow,
I'll memorize the value in my imagination
So I can paint every flake from the top of my head,
And recall distant mountains and their blueish gradation,
As you glimpse far art, into the hearts of the dead,
Born by Earth, water, wind: after a bellow it strikes,
In the mountains where cold Boreas snuffs out the sunrise,
The lightning is heat, thereby the fire is life,
First mastered by wonderment in the Sapian's eyes,
Yet fire will die, or scourge the seeds of the dirt,
Life is an elemental gift, but Death is the price,
Death by drowning, burning, storm, even the quaking of Earth,
A disease as dubious as rolling whimsical dice,
Seems so peculiar, this double edged blade,
That are the four ancient bases to all of the world,
In which to every living thing, their entwined like a braid,  
Of mother nature'
Yes even sickness inspires poetry...Sleep away the spell,
And time will make you well,
But perhaps there is a lesson,
To be learned in times of hardship,
The subconscious maybe beckons,
And in sickness there be friendship,
I don't know, can you tell?
Delve into the wishing well,
And see the stars alike,
Whilst the church is swinging funeral bells,
Is there any good to life?
If evil strikes simultaneously,
They cancel each other out,
Good and evil now extraneously,
Non-existent 'round about,
The perspective of the universe, without a cosmic doubt,
But whatever the truth may turn out to be,
Get well very soon, so that doubt may turn glee.
(Yes even sickness inspires poetry)...


check out her other work here
coraajna.deviantart.com/



cadmium and alizarineand this is where it
starts to take a twist
and this is where the
fortune must unwind:
she captures colors like
memories and pins them
to the canvas, flattens them
to brittle bristle strokes
her bright eyes, light heart
turn dust to flames
shift wire to sparks
burn doubt to cinders
i am the clay she has
shaped between her palms
and smoothed down
i have grown humble, patient,
bolder
than a meteor exploding
to the ground
"all good things come
to an end," they say,
but this finish is
tainted
by a scissor snip on
the thread


check out her other work here
peaseblossoms.deviantart.com/



disgustingit's fine, it's fine,
i'm fine, i'm okay.
you say this
with a shaky
disbelief in
the fabric
of your
esophagus.
the sadness
of the fallen
but still alive
slip through 
the slits
in between
your teeth, 
bewildered,
but not wild
your grey-green eyes
flash viridescent
in the leavings
of past petals.
but the root
of your fuse
is still intact
and you have not
lost your dynamite yet.
your heart is still
here and it's scary,
i know, but i also know
that it's not fine
and you're not okay,
but i love you anyway.
and i can't promise
that this will always
be this way,
but today i do.
tonight i do.
tomorrow i will.
and if whatever
universal force
allows it,
i will always love you.
because it is a verb.
materfamiliasmy palms spread across
the sandpaper skinned
desert of my face
and tornado drafts
scatter the sand
of my work in progress;
and i am lost
in the papers
of embryonic misguidance
sucked down
by the mosquitoes.
my soul is a
peyote-doused confusion
looking for water
and hands to hold me
from this trip.
but i am lost,
and no one can hear me--
my introvert is showing
and no one can see it
but you.
my pupils are dilated,
the pads of my fingers
are wrinkled like folded clothes
and my lips are stone-dry.
my eyes are all out of tears
and the corners of my mouth
are tearing as i scream for help--
but no sound is coming out.
but i feel the soothing warmth
of your hands on both sides 
of my dying fac(ad)e
and you kiss my forehead,
and my tense legs
ease.
(infinitum) in the
waters of your rooted soul,
my air is heavily attached,
and the ocean
of your existence
bring the hydration
when my voice dried
and withered into an anxiety
that deserted itself
within my identity.
you hold me down


check out the other work here
chromeantennae.deviantart.com/



san gabrielSometimes you dream about a burning grocery store and it means nothing.
This is me standing in a hallway realizing that the people who left
aren't showing up for dinner, that's why it's only a theory.
Look at these streetlights, look at you wearing that wreckage on your face,
soaked in radio. To white windmills flickering across the coast, to
your dogs barking like shootouts behind these gates. An old forest flashes
against the bridge and starts breathing; headlights bleach our hills and you say
What kind of ending is this, I'm never here anymore.
And Hell yeah, I think, how insane that the species blooms in catastrophe,
how improbable to survive this lottery, to conquer the probability
of having never blinked toward the blinding white shipwreck,
to find an abandoned planet and fill it with chairs. Back in the day
I'd probably moan for the other side, but now I'd argue that our people's poetry
is best understood as a consequence; not a shotgun but the stained carpet
being dragged from



check out his other work here
palaeochannel6.deviantart.com/

I don't see levels just lots of uniqueness, each one of these amazing writers all have something different to offer the reader. To delight them, intrigue them and tell lots of different stories. Our life is a story after all.
Hope you liked the poetry features I chose and I intend to do an art feature very soon!

Special thanks to:
coraajina for her input, it really helped
thanks to all the people that inspired me,
as this is nothing without all your work. So thanks!!

deviantID

LumenArtist
Brian
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United Kingdom
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:iconfantasylover103:
fantasylover103 Featured By Owner 4 hours ago  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for reading my poem "Arachne" :3 It means a lot. 
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:iconr9a:
R9A Featured By Owner 4 hours ago
Thank you for the fav! :halfliquid:
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:iconminato-kushina:
Minato-Kushina Featured By Owner 3 days ago
:iconthankspointsplz: I appreciate your kindness! :hug:
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:iconlumenartist:
LumenArtist Featured By Owner 3 days ago  Hobbyist Writer
Clap Welcome. Hug 
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:iconspaceshipearth:
SpaceShipEarth Featured By Owner 6 days ago

Welcome to :iconliterature-anonymous:

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:iconfantasylover103:
fantasylover103 Featured By Owner 6 days ago  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the fave on my poem "Colors" :3
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:iconlumenartist:
LumenArtist Featured By Owner 6 days ago  Hobbyist Writer
I've got to say that your words have a beautiful form to them.
and your welcome,=) 
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:iconfantasylover103:
fantasylover103 Featured By Owner 5 days ago  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you :blush:
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:iconelohcin111:
elohcin111 Featured By Owner Jun 18, 2015  Hobbyist Writer

LumenArtist,

 

Hi this is elohcin111 (founder of Writers4Life). As you may have read in the group blog: our poetry file is stuffed and unable to take any more pieces. Unfortunately that means we can’t fit your piece: “Consumed?” into the file. I recently reorganized our folders so if you would like to resubmit your piece please do so to the file “poetry”. Thanks and sorry for the inconvenience.

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:iconelohcin111:
elohcin111 Featured By Owner Mar 19, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Welcome to :iconwriters4life::hug: If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask myself or refer to the group page.

-elohcin111 (Founder of Writers4Life)
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