50% off for a limited time!

Get Core

Theme

Display Mature Content

Suppress AI Content

Get Help and Send Feedback

literature

A Nonet of November

Deviation Actions

KyaniteArcher

Published: Nov 11, 2013

240 Views

Literature Text

Spring

More by KyaniteArcher

Literature

the year 300

sweet fire sing to a primeval moon made of stardust, and all that is to be- of our dreamers and dancers, when earth has not yet fully unfurled. Can you feel a melody lift over the wilds, through the spring fields, through rivers and oceans, finding its story to tell?

Recommended Literature

Literature

Virginal Year

It feels like poetry for a new beginning: Running in slow motion, Laying a fresh path in the Tentative first snow of a virginal year. Your hand shapes a safe home in which my Shivering fingers nestle; You sow a field of forgetting Over the weary road behind. Untouched and unafraid, this Unfamiliar unconditionality, this Darkness so vivid, this Uncertainty so certain. We build that which is From that which we were. In the sanctity of our year, In the unwritten and pure, You and I are as new in this moment As ever we have been. We are here. We are now. We are.

Literature

Newer Account

For all of my watchers and those that enjoy what I do, I have a new account just as well, anjodamorte123. I was bored and there are 3 things already on it. Go ahead and check it out!

Literature

Haiku

my fingers tributaries - running around your knuckles

Suggested Collections

Poetry

Literature

A Robot Love Poem

01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00101100 00100000 01101101 01111001 00100000 01100100 01100001 01110010 01101100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00101100 00100000 01101101 01111001 00100000 01100100 01100101 01100001 01110010 00100000 01110011 01110111 01100101 01100101 01110100 00100000 01101101 01100101 01110100 01100001 01101100 01101100 01101001 01100011 00100000 01101100 01100001 01100100 01111001 00100000 01110010 01101111 01100010 01101111 01110100

Literature

stormchaser

dear sarah, yesterday I tried to swallow the sun. it burned me up on the inside until even my skin was hot to the touch, and I thought of you. I hope you have found better ways than me to feel lighter. heaven knows there are days where I still trade my feet for concrete blocks and try to sprint to the finish line, but at least I have stopped straying towards the riverbanks. at least I get out of bed. most days, that’s enough. but if you tell me that most days life still feels like a choice you’re making every minute, I will tell you that I understand. I have spent years trying to outrun my sadness, sipping sunlight until my vision blurs and looking up only to realize I’ve been going in circles and calling it progress. every escape I ever made is a town I can never go back to and I’m not better for it. I carry so many graveyards around inside of me, and I’ve lost count of how many bridges I’ve burned because I confused loving with leaving. take my sadness away, I don’t

Literature

girls on a roof.

aphrodite passes the blunt to persephone, says you have to tell me how you did that, how you seduced hades and they sit there on the roof, the stars twinkling. persephone looks youthful in a way that’s untouched, as if she’s somehow eternally seventeen or made of sunshine. i didn’t have to do much, she says. and aphrodite who’s spent years reading gossip mags & articles about “ true love ” thinks about how she saw hades take off his leather jacket & wrap it around persephone’s shoulders, easy as breathing. kissed the side of her head. gave

Poetry and what not.,o - o

wonkooo on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/wonkooo/art/dancing-tattoos-175272796wonkooo

Literature

Dream of Aristophanes

A paradigm of poetry Her lips, her thighs, her limbs, and mine - Intertwined Rehearsing the sensuality of sacrifice Cyclical recitations, otherness Eternal return – Manifesting, again and again Aristophanes dreaming, Where does she end and I begin? "We" Upon a bed of reverence

Literature

The Spirit of Inspiration

I've talked before about the spirit of inspiration And how it comes form two different places A great idea never seen or heard Or the simple spark, that fills a black page Though unlike last time I have little to say... It seems the spirit of inspiration Has passed me by Oh, how it flies! Though I know it'll be back At the opportune time

My first attempt at a nonet. Written in Maths. Thought I might write something about the current season, and this is slightly ironic because after summer it's my least favourite season and I love the hustle and bustle of the city more than I love the isolation of the country.

The first version of this read:

_{Springtime, daisies and new grass this time}

_{of the year; pollen allergies}

_{are abundant. I walk out}

_{and breathe in the sweet air,}

_{free of the city}

_{and weary feet}

_{where nature}

_always

_sleeps.

Introduced to this form by this lovely poem: fav.me/d6rr21i (Thumbnails are broken for me, so...)

Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License