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Literature Text
~ Most Deeply Ingrained
The etchings upon
metallic structure paints life
in a strong relief -
its raw emotion reveals
every shadow and every love.
Only clever eyes
notice these small details
of every second -
just as the dog who answers
every knock at the door.
All of time affects
this breathing canvas; careful
strokes are required -
least the heart shatters; no glue
may make the soul whole again.
Falling thickly, ink
drowns the streetscape in colour
unpredictably -
children's chalk on the pavement
as welcome as graffiti.
Resistant, the sky
inhaled remains grey, unchanged
from its weariness -
not unlike conservative
uniforms worn by the law.
The etchings upon
metallic structure paints life
in a strong relief -
its raw emotion reveals
every shadow and every love.
Only clever eyes
notice these small details
of every second -
just as the dog who answers
every knock at the door.
All of time affects
this breathing canvas; careful
strokes are required -
least the heart shatters; no glue
may make the soul whole again.
Falling thickly, ink
drowns the streetscape in colour
unpredictably -
children's chalk on the pavement
as welcome as graffiti.
Resistant, the sky
inhaled remains grey, unchanged
from its weariness -
not unlike conservative
uniforms worn by the law.
Literature
In the Syllable
...then there is a way in diswaiting.
Dust some yellow sand covers,
here uncover bare bedding.
...suffusing red planes, blushed dunes,
under incidentally quilted blanket
wet as arid curves, as sounds.
...in a persistent pavement,
in a solemn unsuited promise,
some written words erase
some letters drip and soak
unto a perfuse miracle,
a dislocated split,
a letting go of...
Literature
Farewell
Dear, Jessica.
Today Ronnie Childs died. Lucky me. The boys don’t want me to walk out and walk freee.
I can’t blame you for finally leaving me those months ago, but I know you too well.
You wouldn’t have ripped me from your heart, even though you should have. I don’t regret loving you, but letting you love me is the greatest sin.
Or second worst. The first was joining a gang.
I went numb as I ran out of things to care about.
Stopped caring about the taste of blood drawn in a fight, the bruises and cracked bones of my boys and myself, or what the other guys looked like.
Stopped caring about breaking into stores, robb
Literature
Haiku
my fingers
tributaries -
running around your knuckles
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
Inspiration: "Ink" theme from #SixWordStories
Eastern form: Rensaku #the-haiku-club
Main features:
- 5-7-5 and 7-7 (upper and lower phase)
- stanzas do not function independently
- more emotional than haiku
- pivot point (image -> emotion)
Wow, this piece uploaded is quite unlike my first draft. Originally the "ink" imagery was more obvious, but I changed it to make the piece more objective, and happier. I've noticed my work tends to focus on the grim side of human nature - in pointing out flaws, vices, etc. I'm going to try to focus on the more positive traits within human nature.
Tomorrow, I've decided will be a free verse day. All this focus on unfamiliar Eastern formats is giving me a headache, so at the end of every week, I'll treat myself with my favourite form - free verse!
Eastern form: Rensaku #the-haiku-club
Main features:
- 5-7-5 and 7-7 (upper and lower phase)
- stanzas do not function independently
- more emotional than haiku
- pivot point (image -> emotion)
Wow, this piece uploaded is quite unlike my first draft. Originally the "ink" imagery was more obvious, but I changed it to make the piece more objective, and happier. I've noticed my work tends to focus on the grim side of human nature - in pointing out flaws, vices, etc. I'm going to try to focus on the more positive traits within human nature.
Tomorrow, I've decided will be a free verse day. All this focus on unfamiliar Eastern formats is giving me a headache, so at the end of every week, I'll treat myself with my favourite form - free verse!
Comments11
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You better be careful mate, too much longer and you're going to turn yourself into me which is pretty much the greatest punishment a writer can inflict on themselves because you'll lose all the beautiful instances of brevity you display here. 
i mean, that last stanza! Damn girl, you ended this piece perfectly.
i mean, that last stanza! Damn girl, you ended this piece perfectly.