IT IS SO CROWDED IN
HERE THAT I JUST
WANT TO SCREAM HOW
MUCH I HATE YOU SOMETIMES
AND WRITE MY "E"s
LIKE THIS:
(LETTER "E" WRITTEN TO
LOOK LIKE A BACKWARDS
"3")
Synthetic Detachment by MissAudreyKaye, literature
Literature
Synthetic Detachment
Feeling you through the
auditory senses
close enough to touch--
within proximity to disturb
I cannot find a proper
way to tell you
that tangible gifts
mean nothing
and that what I want
--so intensely that I must
hide my face while
I write this
is a day
far from constraints
of your world
where we can both live
in mine
and you will understand
that I need to
feel you feel me
and cross the elastic
but impermeable
walls
transparent
--oh yes, unobservable
with the naked
eye, but not the
naked heart--
that stick against my
hand when I try
and
touch yo
The Interior of Your Car by MissAudreyKaye, literature
Literature
The Interior of Your Car
Occasionally, I like to
taste my own blood
because you're so mundane
and I just need a few
moments of insanity
I need to know that I
am alive
and that I can feel
more than flesh
and blood
holding me in-- holding me
back.
I need night air.
I need to get stoned
and run through
strange streets
naked
and exposed,
so alive because
you've torn down my
walls
city walls--
keeping everything so
compartmentalized
I want to feel everything
everywhere
I have no need for seperate
drawers
Everything
in my mouth
my veins
light-- concrete-- cars--
pidgins-- grass-- vinyl--
combat your enemy
it lives inside what you love.
__________________________
I need you to stop being a
grown up with me
and just do something crazy
and dangerous and loud and
bright and pungent and
so painful you can taste it
blood-- which comes from your
heart.
Let's go insane
everywhere.
I love you
with the same warmth,
acceptance,
and trust,
in watching the sun beat on the grass
and the subtle heat of the rocks at creek's edge,
and it is with the same fondness (when I think of you)
that I make wet foot prints
on their smooth surfaces
(not as soft as your skin, however)
and dip my fingers in cool green
to write secret messages
to the pollen that floats by--
and through my brain,
tingling on my lips,
every time you kiss me
with the beautiful truth
shown in the all-too-good-to-be-accidental
world.
It's all too good to be accidental,
and I want you to love breathing,
and the way the sun feels on closed e
You are
when we are here
an extension of my body,
fused beneath the intensity in my fingertips.
I tell you,
"Dear, did you know,
that people love each other
just like we do,
just like they do?"
But I lie,
because there are no people.
There is nothing beyond our haven
of close quarters
in the chilled winter rain,
and no news beyond the slightly tipsy,
sloppy kisses
that I'm giving you.
And those lights,
we'll pretend like they're heaven
shining through the fluid mosaic beyond the cold glass.
They're angels
coming to tell us,
that, no, we're not dreaming.
I can touch you
and it's real.
Dare I to define
(solidly)
this word I employ
to let you know
that you are cared for,
walls
(like those found in prisons)
would be erected,
surrounding the internal organ
that illogically pains me
if ever I'm without you,
limiting its height
and amplification.
And it truly
knows no boundaries
or of the words:
if, can't, shouldn't.
I love you.
And it feels like
every bit of the world
and my soul, and the stars,
and the history, and the pages
of the books, and the ideas we don't
let out
and leave
stuck
to our tounges forever
and ever.
I love you.
It feels like everything.
Magnetic Birthday Card by MissAudreyKaye, literature
Literature
Magnetic Birthday Card
Once upon a time, I became sixteen
My birthday hadn't come but I'd decided just the same
And the boy I pretend I don't need
Gave me a present that made me cry when I went home that night
We sat in the driveway with the little white dog
And played with magnetic poetry he made with words he thought were beautiful
We made short but moving lyircs on the hot, black asphalt
Laughing the way people do when they're in love
But only the kind of love that makes you want to hold hands when you feel alone
Or happy when they kiss someone else
We answered the phone when it rang-- just to feel cool
And pretended the moment wasn't perfect and tha
Ring Around the Rosie by MissAudreyKaye, literature
Literature
Ring Around the Rosie
The lie, like a shameless child
Dances naked in the day
Parading thorugh the grass and
Stopming on the flowers
With little regard for true compassion
How ironic that my lie plays in the shunshine
While truth, pretty as she is, hids inside the forest
Only to come out with the moon
Speak softly in the dark
With great fear of discovery and punishment
Although to love is commanded
And to lie a sin
The fates and my destiny look
With disdain on my truth,
Remind me the lie is my true child
Ring around the rosie
Pocket full of posies
Lies and hatered
and the world spins around.
Sits before you, the withered shell of a man
Staring at the nothing, newly arrived on wings of lies
Eyes dead-- not even laughter echoes ther
But when the faintest flash of life comes through
Held in Satans hand and but by the same
Love cowers and innocence flees from the horror created by senseless depravity.
Come with me, hold my hand
Let us leave this place for good
Pack your bag and lock the door
But leave no new address
Sun beaten street beneath weary shoes
Carries us to the extremest of wests
Where the sun sets on lies
Days too far long and tiresome end
Subtle signs of beauty, that we're escaping:
A dandelion in the cracks
Of this dusty concrete wasteland
Yellow and amusing against the gray and beige and black
The barren desert buzzing of insects appalling, and loneliness
Infused for a second witht the sound of tricicle's horn and laughter
Open your mouth, let in out and out in
Taste past the grit that meets your tongue
All th
Wake Up From Life, Friend by MissAudreyKaye, literature
Literature
Wake Up From Life, Friend
Wake up from life, friend
Let us talk of saving grace
OF truth forever, but briefly tasted
The things held tight
We die a bit when we let them go
I'll show you the eyes that watched me cry
Wept with me when the sun forgot to rise
I'l wrap you in the arms unmoving
That danced with me under our stars
You can hear too the voice that never cuts
And said my last real, "I love you's,"
We die a bit when we let them go
The things held tight
Of truth forever, but briefly tasted
Let us talk of saving grace
Wake up from life, friend.
Love and torture locking hands
Skipping gaily through the gate
Spinning like children through the grass barren dirt
To the peeling steps of the house
Theat speak of memories when stepped upon
At inception sweet, but with time venemous
How willingly we open the door
Listen to the absurd squeaking melody
Then watch love and torture wipe thier feet on the entry way rug.
Selling passion on the streetcorner
Soul splatterd canvas, most commonplace transaction
Were you born of a flashbulb with a paintbrush in your hand?
And when does inginuity come with the bill?
Cash or Credit, Mr. Warhol? as you sit behind your neon idols
Tapping your foot to the rythm of raining green
In your million dollar glass house of a mind
Sell, sell, sell us your lives and our souls to the devil
Making art into sin and sin into art
Reaching down from our corporate skyscrapers, in the market for a lie
Will you sell me, dearest Andy, the prettiest of them all?
In a Tortuous Contentment by A-R-Glasgow, literature
Literature
In a Tortuous Contentment
Rest your soul against mine
yours is warm, and in comfort
able to shine in these dark times
ahead of me and those impossible
dreams of beauty, romantic gestures
in sullen moonlit concaves of pleasure
moist by misty rain dewed in the mornings
made inevitably hard in your warm embrace
Carry me away in your eyes
watching me fold under pressure
our love's sour pain & deep longing
in dark caverns and hells pitted whits
your charms holding me up to be sliced
and speared through ribcage to the heart
where I start to cry out in sweetest ecstasy
I pray for long life to enjoy the pain
You pray to die first,
Sullen spectres of my misplaced youth stalk, poke and cajole me with the time withered fingers of my crooked past.
The fallopian phantasms of misplaced and misspent seed follow me, plaguing my thoughts with ruin, and will not let me rest.
I have no place here, in this room, only a hole ready for the filling and filing of my spent body, its scars the only proof I ever lived.
Soon the darkness will catch us all waiting in corners, hiding from ourselves and our own inadequacies.
Then we shall live, and then we shall see the folly of birth, just before it is too late.
Obsessive Possession by CordialDeviate, literature
Literature
Obsessive Possession
So soft, this flesh beneath my skin
So wondrous, this compulsive sin
To touch, to feel
To force, to steal
To take, whats real
So heightened, now, are your senses
So lowered, now, are your defenses
To hope, to pray
To think, not stray
So careful, do I hold this blade
So firm, has this decision made
And
So still, you are, beneath this touch
So quick, your breath, held as such
Youre ready, youre here
Give me no reason to fear
As I take possession
Of this wondrous
Sinful
obsession
Favourite genre of music: Indie, Grunge, Expiramental, Alternative, Classic Rock, Psychedellic Rock, and Industrial. Personal Quote: "What color do you paint the walls when you can't see?"
Favourite Movies
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Thank You For Smoking.
Okay, so I lied about trying to get through everyone's deviations.
I got through all of one person's and now I'm moving on to another artist. I have 218 in the inbox, but I'm going to cut it down little by little.
I know I haven't posted anything in a long time, but I wrote two shorter pieces the other night. I'm usually very careful about making sure all of my poetry gets into my Moleskine, but I felt like I needed more space (I use a mini Moleskine) and just wrote them on sheets of lined paper in a bright pink sharpie without staying in the lines. Now that I think more about it, the medium with which I chose to create the poems reflect
I'm really sorry for not having the time to check out all of the deviations. I have 81 in my inbox at the moment.
I'll try tomorrow.
Promise.
: )
I've come to a point where, now, looking back I can see the mistakes I've made and how those same mistakes have repeated in similar situations, causing similar unravellings. That's how deja vu works as well-- you've been in a similar situation before, so your brain subconsciously recalls old perceptions, making it all seem familiar, hence, you have been there before.
And it is also lucky that I have learned the lessons of these mistakes and because I can now identify them with clear 20/20 hindsight, I can put them into the top tray of my mind's desk, labeled, "Things to NEVER do."
I am so happy.