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Literature
every step of always
i look for magic words
in the rhetoric from the hill
in the spaces in between
sheets, ellipses and digital smiles
we have sustained ourselves
on the kisses of self-restraint
i will not waste
wrapping myself in incantation
incubating organs
is no longer an option
i have learned that
we must set fire to the fans of
our now air conditioned amen corners
in pursuit of our demands
burn,
if you can every petal
piled upon the cashmere chests of their
brothers, sons, boys
we miss wakes and eulogize them
by their true names
effigies of our lovely sisters
have no use for blooms
"you'll see the sky now, and the clouds in it"
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Literature
No spaceship to the other place
wish i could fly  
not quite like superman
more like them girls from salem
salve on gills like hoodoo men
after sun-done
set off in the big river's mud
no one would miss me
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Literature
calcium ratio not-til-us
sequestered in a shell of sister-friends  
you hugged your fingernails to the palm
scrying the dark lines of dirt beneath keratin
for answers absent in the gossip
of burgeoning mosquito bites
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Literature
Cadet
i would leap
fold myself among the stars and
teach you mnemonics
that you might wake
and turn with me
i would spin a web
of safety surpassing
metaphor
finely woven smiles
and rebellion
this blanket would
abolish all
fear of speaking love
to doting aunties
frankly I keep dreaming
up contraptions
paddles and oars to propel
you across
the ocean you have sweated
i leap
into shattered boys
crash through their fractal shadows
like sugar glass
break open the dark places
searching for the pools
of light hidden beneath
spines
they stay awhile
not due to pain or recovery
they hang about like
shiny ornaments
lingering in my doorway
In a few yawns and
a feigned stretch
i will shoo them
from my four-post menagerie
and this is how
i empty my closet
of slings and bandages
straining to sight and suture
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Literature
helix interrogations
the answer
truths/aches/ails
something between the seventh
and thirteenth chromosomes
sprawled like a rough sleeping child
heels dug
in between the lattice
jointed spiral chains that compose me
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Literature
Spin and polish
(lined with silk and copper)
I.
We all share the fear
Even the truest of us
Drink an ocean of adrenaline
and butterflies twice a year
if we are faithful
if
Immediately we plead and promise
lies to ourselves  
As we mark our gates in
spit and blood
bartering for flesh
We will not cover
II.
Once the beast is inside
Our shared fear beds him royally
And we tuck our stomachs away
hole-filled
The winged things departed
Have eaten free
our entrails
Stuffed in emptied bottles
And covered over with pennies paid
To unfurl thoughts  
(unfulfilled)
III.
After daymares pierce denial
We find no time for planes or
Scrounging pounds for winter
no time for confessions
across gaping bellies
We patch confidence
filling them with notes
to loved ones
to creditors
apathetic letters  
And admonitions
to love clearly
If we are lucky
our stomachs are archival
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Literature
2004: NM Pass, 7834ft
in order not to fall through         liquid surface
            to miracle walk across
my aversion to orange rubber     the subject
and pigskin
why my sneakers failed to churn and flap
                                           
                                              above tarmac and turf
Still unaware of my ability           to swallow up ponds
intent on one day running lungs-long into the Pacific
i feigned REM as                        they spoke of jet and wool
buoying smoke signals quietly across the dashboard
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Literature
ltr
ltr
-For Joey
You are the strangers
we have been warned about
but we are thirsty
and wandering
with extended smiles
you flatter us to dance
the dance always the same
ends
with drops of hope
to fend dehydration
we stagger on
tired and acheless
perhaps we are the lucky ones
arms akimbo
hearts still balanced
upon our heads
we are called the strange ones
as we teeter totter unsteadily
forward
engaged to our convictions
among the loose sands
and thorns
of your polite waywardness
foraging for velvet and honey
to salve our drums
fill our gourds
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Literature
Bullet
My name holds
power
and opens no doors
its mumbled even among friends
lovers christen children
in my name
and mothers
birth the marked unwillingly
others
doused in my fecundity
others embrace me naturally
unknowing
I become the true name
harbored beneath plastic caps
and denial
my name recorded
in bureaucratic registries
excised only in obituaries
those that expect
to hold my name
lead resigned lives
palms perpetually unturned
they dutifully wait
painting sepulchers pink
and others sit
stitching my initials
into old bed sheets
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Literature
i am writing to Night
night
in shining armour
come through my doorway
generating organic mechanisms
i touch you until you bleed sunshine
squeals and sighs
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Literature
hair
all the little drops
run together
making rivulets of my strands
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Literature
Emmitt
would you
spend a night on the sun
we would carry tired limbs
and empty jugs  
ease away
none to notice
heavy warmth at their side
morning won't miss you
we could return
darker
with sunny sugar on our backs
and erect real birdhouses
for the children we left behind
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So hard :icon007-seriously-serial:007-seriously-serial 2 0
Literature
Napowrimo 5 'Atlas'
flashing loose sheets
the box spring gasped
under the restless weight
of a world uninhabited
by clothes or worries
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Literature
i don't know
who knew that you could get so serious
over cereal
i chased "z's" around my bowl
you asked me
"who is _______ ?"
i laughed nerovously
choking on a "u"
and the sound of his name
letters i thought you wouldn't find
there's milk in my lap
you won't be back
your cereal is soggy
i pour it down the drain
after thoughts of morning sex
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Literature
untitled
when the end draws near
heed my instructions
leave my gravestone uncomplicated
forget jumbled letters
that form hollow words
mute utterances
above mounds of bones
rest in peace
could three words fill any viewer
with my essence
From-      To-
do not nail me to the alphabet
stretched on stone
words have been my religion
not my god
learning the difference
has been the test
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Random Favourites

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Journal
Chat Week Ends: Day 7 Report
Well, Chat Week was a tremendous success, and PoetryPlease would like to thank all those who contributed throughout the week. Without you all, Chat Week would not have been possible. Now that the week is over, however, don’t think that you don’t need to stop by the <a href=”http://chat.deviantart.com/chat/PoetryPlease”>PoetryPlease Chat Room anymore. We will be having regular prompts, shares, and battles, so don’t forget to stop in for your regular poetry check-up!
Chat Week: Day 7 Report
The major event of the day was a Q&A with PoeticWar. We definitely had plenty to talk about with James and a lot of people turned up for the event. Due to the length of the interview, the transcript is included at the end of this news article. It’s definitely worth your perusal, so please give it a read through.
After the Q&A with PoeticWar, the room began to share some of their poetry. This spontaneous share was participated in by a few deviants, inc
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Mature content
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Literature
Socks
You can't always win a nobel prize
or vicarious eyes
drive-by glances
momentary chances
while thinking of ways to rhyme
biohazard
with a 2 syllable word;
I spew lizard,
despite how absurd,
and whether or not
that strikes you in awe
or raises a brow,
or opens your jaw,
regardless of whatever you're thinking right now,
this has no relevance... to anything. At all.
Sometimes you write
about humanity's flaws,
write to grant laughter,
or analyze God,
but then when you write,
you imagine your bed!
so maybe you'd rather be writing
about... socks, instead.
It shouldn't take long
since i'm very much familiar
and quite frankly, an expert,
in the subject matter,
I mean, I wear socks
like, every day, man.
It's I think something
everyone should try.
        At least once,
just sit down and write.
No theory, no philosophy,
no literary temptation.
Just write shit about socks,
and the feet that wear them.
:iconintimachine:intimachine
:iconintimachine:intimachine 212 177
Literature
Day 364
In her dreams Whale swam the sky-
sifted stars with her comb,
they burned.
In her dreams Cloud swam the ocean,
floated among jellyfish,
stars of the sea.
In daylight Whale swam the ocean
and Cloud fell seaward,
disappeared.
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Activity


deviantID

007-seriously-serial's Profile Picture
007-seriously-serial
Leo. . . maybe
United States
Current Residence: CA
Favourite genre of music: Neo Soul/R&B
Favourite style of art: spoken word, surrealism, textiles
Favourite cartoon character: Aang
Interests
  • Listening to: James Blake
  • Reading: The Twelve Tribes of Hattie
  • Watching: We Were Here
Happy New Year and all that jazz. The beginning and end of anything is always a time of reflection...

-i miss writing poems
-i love weaving/making art
-i want to be a herbalist
-i own too much stuff

My primary concerns for the year are to whittle my life down to the essentials, and for the most part, these are that things I want.

Comments


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:iconbeeinthebottle:
beeinthebottle Featured By Owner Jan 9, 2013   Writer
Thanks so much for the watch and the fave. :heart:
Reply
:iconspoems:
spoems Featured By Owner Jan 8, 2013   Writer
Thanks.
Reply
:iconglossolalias:
glossolalias Featured By Owner Dec 27, 2012
thank you for the :+devwatch: and the :+fav:
Reply
:icon007-seriously-serial:
you're welcome!
Reply
:iconyouinventedme:
YouInventedMe Featured By Owner Apr 16, 2012   Writer
thanks for the :+fav: on our aging season!
Reply
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