September Feature, Literature

Sep 16, 201026 min read

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Published: Sep 16, 2010

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September Feature I
Literature

A small feature of the amazing literature pieces discovered so far in September Literature Pieces DreamscapeShe paced these cracked sidewalks With ultra-violet wisps of hair Swirling and twisting across her eyes In the chilling winter air. Her gaze was fixed on the passing lines Of these old city's streets like glue. Her mind bounced from one thought to another, But seemed to be stuck on you. She had no destination, no fate, No company to keep her warm. And yet she continued walking along Through this frigid winter storm. The sounds of pink and orange rain Splashed on the concrete like tears she never shed. The whipping wind whispered yellow secrets; The words she never said. Holding herself tightly as she could, To the end of the earth she planned to stray, Until a loving stranger's hand lifted her gaze On a brisk December day. She gazed long into his eyes, Dazzled by their color, so unlike the dismal ground. She became entranced In green and orange starbursts of light until she found Herself walking hand in hand with this man Away from clouds to a clear city view. He turned her to face him I WonderI wonder where she is That one girl to make me giggle uncontrollably as if I was being tickled by a dozen invisible hands. The one who knows the starts, finishes and even the sentence before I even think it. The one who makes my skin tingle like I was being prodded by feathers. The one who can turn my heart to putty with a single glance, and both hands tied behind her back. The one that fits in my arms seamlessly, like we were meant to be like two puzzle pieces. The one who is crazier than me but that might be a bad thing. The one who makes my breath catch no matter the time. The one who I can share the adventure of life with hooting and hollarin' away. The one that knows how to be a child again though we both know we shouldn't. the one I can laugh with for no reason whatsoever and to be fine with that. I wonder. Abduction - TGThe can crumples beneath my foot, aluminum temporarily forming around the shape of my shoe. I dislodge it on my neck step, shaking my foot so that it slides across the ground before landing on the other side of the curve. The sound of it scraping across the asphalt makes me irritated, my lips peeling back in a small snarl. I stop, running a finger through my hair. I shouldn't be irritated at it. I was the one who forced it to make the sound. It wasn't that bad a sound, anyway. I should probably even pick it up and place it in a trashcan. But I don't move towards it. I'm still irritated, still annoyed, still wanting to crush it beneath my fingers until it's unrecognizable as a can. I hate Halloween. There. I said it. I said what's been bugging me, so maybe everyone will leave me alone about it. Only they won't, even if I say it out loud. They'll want to know why, and then they'll want to try and find a way to fix it, and maybe they'll even manage it. But I probably won't like how they c 'We' "WE" I. We were just two stones… Thrown mercilessly At the end of a long forgotten valley. We had nothing. Just the sky above And our treasure…filled with hopes. They flew like doves When it supposed to be happening… We were much alike… And rain was our shelter. Monstrously… We were often smashed Under people's feet. …Always together. We used to roll Into the desert's heat. Guarded by the holocaustous sun. We climbed to fall In a dream seeing the sparkling stones On the charcoal blanket Right above our heads… I still remember The one shining so neat… It fell dead. Was its surrender With a marvelous end. II. Suddenly… The river crossed Like an apocalyptical entity. It caught you… And took you Away. From far away I could saw you though… Changing differently Day by day… I was wrong. We are not alike… I should be strong Like All sto Save the King, Kill the QueenI. Through the lines, vines and trying times is a secret lost to the innocence of a crime. The cure is one none have seen. The betrayal is one none have been. In the trees lies a word As sharp and witted as a two-edged sword. II. With the dark lies a dream, Filled with schemes, screams and kings. Twisting like a winding road, This woman knows not where to go. In the nightmare lies a mind, Undermined by the blind. III. In a garden lost down below, Lays the sleeping beauty all alone. There's the fantasy of a fallen throne, and the truth hidden in a stone. Inside a cavern lays a sword, a sharp tongue promising twisted words. IV. To kill the king, To save a queen, and all things in between Is to flip a coin, a wretched circle to join, and a friendship viciously purloined. To save the king, To kill a queen, and all the things in between Is to pray and kneel to ask for despair to be repealed. Is to flip a coin –heads or tails. Is to ask a friendship to win or :thumb178930218: Morning after, MiseryLeave me to my misery and discursive dissonance. The tenebrous tick of your grandfather clock (the one your mother left you) whittles away my abject life. Its assiduous rhythms hiding the clandestine leak of my mind that's drip drip, dripping from my head into my lap. The capricious virgin cloth stained black by laconic thoughts. It is overflowing, feeding the salacious demons that tempt me in false promise of a love, not spurious, or tainted by the acidic aftertaste of a dishonourable dawn. :thumb178490092: :thumb178567266: :thumb178585967: :thumb179023550: The Warmth That Eludes Me I write this with a hurried hand, as even now I can quickly feel my body succumbing to the cold, and my mind slowly fogging up as my functions start to slow. I scribble this in hope that, not that someone will find and read this, but through seeing this on paper, I may understand what happened in this slowly maddening mind, one final relief before I fade away into the eternal blizzard. It's just that – the light, the warmth, I saw it, and it wasn't there. Seeing things, believing they are true, when they don't actually exist…am I insane? I cannot tell how long ago it started, as I have lost track of time in this freezing isolation, but I presume the journey to have begun about a week ago. A colleague of mine, a Mr. William Denisy, and me traveled out to a remote region in Alaska in hopes to find a rare breed of wolf particular to that area. We were photographers, the both of us, and we had been a bit down on our luck He Wasn't YouWhen I woke up today it wasn't in our bed. It wasn't in our house. It wasn't even in our city. And it wasn't with you. I remember opening my eyes and taking in my surroundings. The walls were painted in an off-putting shade of salmon, and I thought of how much you hated salmon. The sheets were too thick and rough with the cotton fuzz balls accumulated from being washed too many times. The musky smell of the motel room carpet had me wishing for the scent of your aftershave wafting from the bathroom after your morning shower. It smelled even better when your forehead was resting against mine as we spent a quiet minute together before you had to get ready for work. Those were my happiest moments. The way your hands, strong and calloused from your years on the family farm, would cup my chin as you gazed into my eyes. Or the way your fingers moved across my cheeks to find a stray strand of hair to tuck behind my ear. I used to feel love pouring out of you. A hand tore me out of my daydreams :thumb178959683: FallingIn the distance I see you, You are oh so clear That vision of beauty, I hold so dear Every day that passes, I need you near I never need to worry, You will always be here I am always falling, When I look into your eyes You keep my whole world turning, Even after all this time I see the love you have for me, So I shouldn't be surprised, That I am always falling, When I look into your eyes Your eyes... Your eyes... Falling into your eyes When I hold you close to me, I can feel you breathe I pull you in much tighter, And I can feel your heart beat No-one else exists, You are all that I see You color everything I am, It's like I'm living in a dream! I am always falling, When I look into your eyes You keep my whole world turning, Even after all this time I see the love you have for me, So I shouldn't be surprised, That I am always falling, When I look into your eyes Into your eyes... This must be heaven, Because this feels so nice... Into...your eyes... This must be heaven, Because this fee Roses and VioletsRoses so red violets so blue would it make any difference If I'd tell you the truth? Sugar so sweet the sky so high the sea rather deep why not give it a try? Tears like water sometimes you're so mad you don't like my father makes me feel a bit sad Roses were red those violets were blue this is bad To tell you the truth I think we're through Mature Content :thumb169285058: :thumb178389690: DiscoveryI didn't know that I was on the Path to Hell until I got there. Dear love,Already the silence of the house is a huge weight on my shoulders, Pressing me down to the ground in a kneeling position, Huge and round they crush me-those boulders- 'till I can't stand it anymore. So I lay there with my head pressed against the smooth wooden floor, And watch for your slender legs to appear in the doors- above my head to where I have to turn my body to look up at you. It takes immense amounts of pain and tears to turn my body- To see if you are there with those clothes that are so gaudy. I'm still there in the middle of the floor, staring up at the ceieling -we used to do that together- those days where we were bored but we soard high-so high. My hand reaches out looking for your slim fingers that used to fit so perfectly- Between the spaces of my own fingers- Where now they are only empty spots waiting to be filled by you yet again. Do you remember, hun? Those days of peacefulness and such content that we got lost together- yet floated back to earth together- And peo A Touch Too Close 4-ConclusionGoing Forth From Here As I sit and compose upon what I have left, words with my own paraphrasing return both new and old. Time present and time past Are both perhaps present in time future, And time future contained in time past. If all time is eternally present All time is redeemable. In the original quote, the last word is "unredeemable". Perhaps that is truer but the change is my own. I see Codie and Harper nearly every day. They smile and laugh but they do not see me. They exist separate from every other person in this universe, together. What they are now and why is the preoccupation of those who investigate them. But I cannot follow their present, so I follow their past. As their daughter, Lisa Hewitt-Melvang, I was carefully watched until it became clear that nothing special would ever come of me. My name made simple the matter of my research. I had full access to the preserved time concentrated around Codie and Harper whenever I wanted it. I wrote pape Life in four songs01. Sitting in the back of the train, life going by so fast, yet so slow. Nothing to see, nothing to talk about. The same four songs repeated over and over, my head on your shoulder, your head on mine. Almost asleep, we stand up, both at the same time, head back to our seats, closing the glass door, sitting down without touching, in a room of laughter. Always without words. We didn't need them. 02. Laying on my bed, side by side, close enough for our one pair of headphones to reach both of us. Arms barely touching, feet up on the wall. Comfortable and silent, listening to the same four songs, over and over, barely noticing that we are both crying. Carefully, slowly, almost unnoticed, our hands move closer until they cling to each other with a hope for happiness. 03. Walking down an unknown street, close but not touching, four songs only going through our heads, though at the same time for both of us, because the batteries died. In search of pretty alcohol, behind the rest of the group, Crash and BurnLately I've felt jaded Out of energy, short for air Every breath is aching Every move is Crumbling I'm torn apart. Lately life's complex So many opportunities Yet none seems reachable So many emotions brewing Yet none comes to fruition. It's quite bizarre Feeling that you exist Although you do not live Like a hollow shell, a void A body shaped tumb. Lately choices are nerveracking Every day closing in on me Narrowing me towards the edge The point Of no return Shall I dare to take the leap of faith? This all hangs in the balance Time to chose which road to take Pass by the fields of ignorance Head straight on towards my fate. Despite all the animation Of taking this step I dunnot yearn So high are the expectations Will this work? Or will I crash and burn? :thumb178452597: Skychild.i. Aliens are amongst us - those (humans) who morph to adapt to their (preferred) environments - but only she seems to notice. She often wonders what they'd look like without their various skins, whether they'd shiver or be burnt by cruel glances. God knows she hasn't. ii. Streetlights led her way but even then, she still strayed into the melting shadows and neon lights. All she needed was fresh air (see also: a number on speed dial). iii. It has been said that no (true) soldier could leave a battlefield without fighting. But she knows she can live without really living at all. iv. That familiar gun always pauses at her head and her finger also hesitates at the trigger. She knows she doesn't have the courage. Besides, even if she didn't want to live, she didn't have to die. Alternative option: sleepwalking. v. There was a light, one day, on a highway where she often visited. 'If you're salvation, you're late,' she said. It answered-- then grew larger (aw, crap) and larger (it's a speed Overduei don't want to be human, because then i wouldn't have emotions for you to trample and hopes for you to burn. (i know you can't catch smoke in a bottle, but i tried anyways.) i don't want to be human, because then i wouldn't have a body for you to strike or a will for you to break. (my fingers are all bloodied from trying to pick up the pieces.) i don't want to be human, because then i wouldn't have a heart for you to steal. (sometimes, i hope you're just borrowing it.) Like Tomorrow Will Never ComeWe're still young, with s i n g s o n g children's voices in our throats, and beautiful muddy footprints in our hearts. We're still beautiful, with lopsided smiles, and laughs that make the sun's heart ache. So grab my hand, and I'll show you the sunshine, hidden under bluebell wings, and butterfly petals. We'll run in circles, just to make my dress twirl, and our lungs burn (in the good kind of way.) We'll jump in the rain, with laughter pealing like thunderclaps, trying to outscream the storm. We'll camp under the stars, with only the velvet black canopy as our tent, counting the stars, and naming each one after a reason we love each other. We'll make paper airplanes, with our wishes written on the wings, throwing them to the sky, to show that we have no limit on what we can do. We'll ride bareback on our horses, that look just like us, until we've gotten lost in the blueberry patches, dying our lips purple, and leaving secret kisses on each other's the sleeping poem.you're sleeping in the snow (this is something i know); and your breathing like august or june. your sheets are green, this is all i have seen. you are breathing like august or june. (arms and chest and neck) you are asleep in the sun, hair dry and wrung; your stillness is moving and blind. your bedsheets are plum. wind, beat and drum. your stillness is moving and blind. (hands and legs and knees) :thumb178146582: Showing FaithWalking to the church every Wednesday Even if you feel lonely at mutual Listening to speakers each Sunday Even if it seems their words aren't for you Attending seminary daily Even if your brain's clouded and weary Studying scriptures every day Even if your life is full and busy Talking to your Father daily Even if you feel too weighed down and grieved Doing these things diligently Even if just for your Father above vAmplike a moonbeam across the dusty floor she danced, she took my love notes and made music that sounded like indigo, she cast shadows on shadows and scribed hearts on the window pane, she showed me how tears move around smiles on their way to the chin, she let me curl my fingertips over hers pressed tiny palm to larger, she read unfortunate fortunes in tea leaves resting in last night's cup, she danced and danced and danced desire's step by step, she :thumb178237866: plates tippingthe smell of textbooks, turquoise rings and kitchens with plates tipping like stones in sandpits the potatoes are bland she pours salt on the wound red checkered dress tonight blueberry pancakes, tomorrow leaves on the table from the fallen trees wind against the shutters to the sound of firetrucks we don't have time but we've got 9 to 5 we've dropped humility but "at least we still have drive" she'll never know you now. humming to the berry moon. how your arms raise like scarecrows catching celestial birds you swear wont die maybe there's no substitution for a suicide world. we can't pull trees over and we can't set our house on fire but we can damn well try we forget we're shells on the beach fragile crabs on fingertips we will make it through this year but we won't make it out alive. :thumb178227970: To the old fiddlerYou sit in the corner of the world On your journey with your old wooden fiddle With a face carved by fate, tempered by time In a body, bowed but not yet broken Your two hands shaped by hard work and patience And on them, ten fragile fingers are wrapped in magic Alone, graceful, you let your fingers sing With the melody made of ice and stars We only gave you tiny silvery pieces You smiled a smile worth thousands of it Stay, please stay...and play some more for us Work your enchanting fingers, fiddle some more Stay, please stay...and let us listen to the beauty The harmonic beauty of tone and truth But you said, you cannot stay more than a while You said you knew, time will ask you to come with it Time will say, that the lord above wanted to hear you play And the angels missed your tunes behind the clouds Stay, please stay...and play some more for us Smile your heartwarming smile just once more Stay, please stay...and let us listen to the beauty Don't bid your farewell and say not to 78. DrinkYou can lie to me All you want But I hope you know You're not fooling me I can see through Those blood shot eyes And your Painted on smile I know how you spend Those lonely rainy nights Laying around and trying To drink me away You can lie to me All you want But I hope you know You're not fooling me I can see through Your fake laughter And your Painted on smile I know how you spend Those lonely rainy nights Laying around and trying To drink me away You can try all you want But I hope you know I'm not that easy To just drink away You can lie to me All you want But I hope you know You're not fooling me Somos Losorange filters pressed to lonely lips, trains you hop for a poor man's ride to the edge of the world, mothers who have never made love, colorless passports yet to so much as smell the pacific, vines that suffocate abandoned houses, children of indecision. :thumb177711478: :thumb177382210: Skin Deep +LOVE Original LIT+stroke my ego into purring convulsions whet my appetite with the way you say my name smile against my cherry lips and let me drown in the reflections in your eyes whisper to me of how I am beauty personified swallow down the stars on my fingertips polish my self image until it shines like the tips of my fingers;the tips of my toes tell me that i'm stunning tell me that you'll never need anyone else promise me that I do it for you and prove it, boost me higher on my pedestal my throat is scarred from your red hot promises or maybe from how you fed me sharp edged pieces of the night sky you finally saw how below you i was, i suppose. you were glossy like a magazine and eventually i grew scared with my smudge leaving fingers and your slippery skin you shed me like water droplets beading against your shiny cover perfection and I crumbled under the weight of your leaving before my spine straightened itself without you and the weight of your expectations Carrion BeachesI am washed up carrion on plastic sand beaches. Sea urchins ingest my cardiac-muscle while hermit crabs find shelter amongst my flesh. - The salt brine has me tasting of tears and high-blood pressure, Seagulls are regurgitating me in chunks. Not the urchins, they liquefy my filth and the clawed-hermits live within homes hallowed from my rotted tissue. - I smell like low-tide and low self-esteem. Drift wood and smoothed over pieces of glass, stranded with me. - Dawn reveals the stench of my dissipation, and I find I am not alone, in this decay. Literature News Congratulations to nycterent They join the Lit GM Team alongside Memnalar and GaioumonBatou