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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
June 28, 2009
"One wants to join the elements of nature and rise up just like the poem tells you too. A rare poem of optimism," states the suggester of Far Away by =citywings.
Featured by fllnthblnk
Suggested by vgaer
Literature Text
Sometimes we grow up like this:
gyroscopic, like sunflowers, our faces turning
towards the sun. And the sun is more than a ball
of burning gas. The sun is warm and bright
and alive. And we are warm and bright and alive.
I am no bloom. Wings do not rely
on the kindness of strangers. But sometimes they will tell you
that people aren’t things you can own.
They will tend to the flowers, they will lean into the garden,
prune dead leaves and reshape
innocent bushes. Their sweat will drip into
your faces, my glittering lilies, my lonely and cynical roses,
and they will tell you how to
come into your own. They will say the world is a
cold and frightening place when you are
far from your home soil. They will pack your roots with compost
and entice you to stay.
Rise from the dirt and move on.
gyroscopic, like sunflowers, our faces turning
towards the sun. And the sun is more than a ball
of burning gas. The sun is warm and bright
and alive. And we are warm and bright and alive.
I am no bloom. Wings do not rely
on the kindness of strangers. But sometimes they will tell you
that people aren’t things you can own.
They will tend to the flowers, they will lean into the garden,
prune dead leaves and reshape
innocent bushes. Their sweat will drip into
your faces, my glittering lilies, my lonely and cynical roses,
and they will tell you how to
come into your own. They will say the world is a
cold and frightening place when you are
far from your home soil. They will pack your roots with compost
and entice you to stay.
Rise from the dirt and move on.
Literature
an augury of tears
your love is the wind
on water. mine heaves deeper
than cruel riptide.
Literature
sempiternal
When I grow old
I want
a thousand
laugh-lines.
For when rainbows dilute and notebooks fatten
on times untimely passing,
when the moon falls out of kilter with a sun that
curdles in a sad, forgotten sky,
and the rain congeals inside the clouds
when the slurry of seconds sinks deep into my bones
and my skin crumples like parchment, my spine coils and splinters
and my fingers buckle, knuckle-cracking -
when my dreams fa
Literature
The Berliner
Sick of writing about the pianist,
she leaves for Berlin and makes her
home next to the absence of a wall
She contemplates the American Embassy
and changes her cigarette brand
She sets out walking
and considers percentages of lives,
eats alone, begins to consider meat as flesh,
removes paintings from their frames
and in their place hangs mirrors
Calling home small voiced
she asks after family and friends
politely, washing dishes as she does so,
the phone in the crook of her neck
She makes no friends, does not make love,
resents nothing and leaves no
holes in people's lives
Suggested Collections
something.
© 2009 - 2024 citywings
Comments74
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So optimistic. you don't find those often. I love it. It's beautiful. You're a lovely writer. ♥