ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
It's been years
And you're still here,
Bare knuckle boxing
With barbed wire people.
"Los siento" are the most beautiful words
In any language.
Garcia-Lorca's greatest poem.
Hemingway's one true sentence
With gunshots for punctuation.
These are the sounds
Of a thousand ghost towns
That people abandoned for a reason.
Centralia, Pennsylvania
Is a beautiful place
That's been on fire
For a hundred fucking years.
Three people still live there,
Under a banner that reads "Los Siento"
Today I'm not one of them.
And you're still here,
Bare knuckle boxing
With barbed wire people.
"Los siento" are the most beautiful words
In any language.
Garcia-Lorca's greatest poem.
Hemingway's one true sentence
With gunshots for punctuation.
These are the sounds
Of a thousand ghost towns
That people abandoned for a reason.
Centralia, Pennsylvania
Is a beautiful place
That's been on fire
For a hundred fucking years.
Three people still live there,
Under a banner that reads "Los Siento"
Today I'm not one of them.
Literature
She Was With the Stars
The amber girl
was preserved perfectly
and her silky hair and porcelain skin
gleamed like a doll's
But the scientists weren't able to keep
her soul burning
because though she was in the
glass case filled with chemicals and fluids
and they were desperately trying to pump
oxygen into her lungs,
her mind was still up in space
with the stars
So the sun was extinguished
despite the cries and mournful screams
because they had
broke her
and the many who looked up
at her light and glory
slowly began to rot away
And so not a single thing was solved
Literature
Volpi.
You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat –
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see t
Literature
One Sip
Since that night, I have believed in love at first song.
You sang.
Darling, you stirred your voice into the coffeehouse scents;
It carried notes of inspiration and the flavor of your soul.
You smiled.
Your words trickled down my throat, and I savored their warmth.
There was no bitterness, no dregs- just your heart poured out.
You stood.
I abandoned my cup to follow, “hello” scalding my tongue.
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
This moral inventory business stirred up some regret for a minute, and then it occurred to me that regret is for people who don't love their lives, and that ain't me. Whatever it took to get me here. No apologies, right now at least.
© 2012 - 2024 ThermadorianGrey
Comments33
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Well done!