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last nightrestless, sweating at the touch of old gods, I lay tangled in the dawn of sleep, fretting my pillow, dreaming of places where the wind cries through the open arms of broken statues, seeming insubstantial, shaking with fear at the saw-blade terror of avatars walking like madmen under foreign stars uncomprehending of what loas rode their hands, breaking glass eggs, world eggs, cracking the gold yolk silver-limned on the table-top,last night
unable either to falter, choose or stop the terrible march of their red guns, blackening the sky with sto
by ~sysrae
one more nightOne more night has come, where the clock drags like a lead foot, and my hands grow unsteady, and my eyes mock this white blankness where my writing lands; one more night alone, a blessed source sheltering my mind, heart, tongue, brain’s discourse.one more night
One more night, and now the grey moon hides her head, as I hide mine and together we are lost in this monsoon of stars, this labyrinth without twine to aid our travels: but one night more would have us reach its soul, its nova-core.
One more night, as there is always following the red heels of evening &
by ~sysrae
sun childo little sun-child, freckled and brown as a frog- o where did you go?sun child
you are swallowed by photos, engulfed in the mouth of a too-wide hat or arms bigger then
than the whole of Jerusalem.
o small undine, faded in blue on blue, with little dark legs like twigs and feet like pixies; o where did you go? you lengthened and thickened then thinned again like a fairytale beanstalk in pink, white, red and an Alice band and boots to go clomp
on the whole world.
my little walker, my spirit-bead with your twinkling ey
by ~sysrae
swimming upstreamit begins as a bubble, a small light under the surface, the round beak of a rosehip- but almost!- breaking the cleanliness, breaking up smoothly, sleekly (o tiny leviathan, may you move mountains) until it isswimming upstream
out of the water, until each rivulet touching each sunset scale is a cataract, and each drop becomes armour, a bright mail-coat
with liquid trim -
and then the wondrous moment:
launching itself from a slingshot or leaving the orbit of some strange quasar it rises, and look! for one blessed instance there is no gravity; &n
by ~sysrae
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UpdatedeviantID
| I'm an Australian writer, geek and occasional poet. Since I was eleven, I've wanted to be a published fantasy author. Twleve years later, imagine my surprise: it's actually happening! My first novel, Solace and Grief, is due for release in March 2010 by Ford Street Publishing. It's the first volume of a young adult fantasy trilogy. Huzzah! |
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- Current Residence: Melbourne
- Website: http://fozmeadows.wordpress.com
- Email: philippa.meadows@gmail.com
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... italicized ellipses ...
I'd like you to read this peice by me : [link]
I think you'd be intrested by the theme.
To me, it has some reassemblence to your writing.
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Distorted Silence is on its way.
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I'm sorry if I confuse you. I don't do it on purpose. I'm an English Major and that's what we do.
we do but aim to please
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