FEATURE FROM NOWHERE I -LA FEATURE DE NULLE PART I

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Deviation Actions

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December 2013 - Décembre 2013

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Littérature francophone / French Literature

NaviguerLe roulis régulier du navire sur la mer berçait ma rêverie tandis que j'appréciais la morsure de la brise sur mes paupières closes. J'étais seule, dressée sur le pont, lancée vers les flots bleus au-dessus du bastingage. Au-dessous de moi, la proue fendait avec paresse les vagues indolentes qui dansaient en fractales à perte de vue.
J'étais seule, seule dans cette croisière bondée où j'étais condamnée à demeurer huit jours ; seule pour ma lune de miel.
Le roulis régulier du navire sur la mer berçait mon agonie tandis que j'endurais la morsure de l'abyme sur mes yeux grand ouverts. J'étais seule, noyée sous le pont, jetée dans les flots bleus par-dessus le bastingage. Au-dessus de moi, la proue fendait sans tendresse les vagues insolentes qui dansaient sur l'eau sale à m'en faire perdre la vue.
J'étais seule, seule dans la m
:thumb413550509: La tete vers le basJ'ai posé le pied sur une planche de bois.
Enfouie dans le sable, chaude,
Reste d'un vieux navire,
Voyageur en trépas.
J'ai tendu l'autre jambe vers le ciel flamboyant,
Et regardé le monde,
La tête vers le bas.
Le vertige des temps
M'a porté vers le large,
Loin des univers fous.
Sous la pluie, ivre,
Les étoiles m'ont parlé
De la fin de leur monde,
De la naissance du mien.
Mais comment ignorer
Ces murmures aux abois,
Ces larmes lumineuses.
Je me suis retournée,
Et courant sur la lande,
Et fuyant les tourments,
J'ai hurlé vers le ciel ma seule vérité.
Je ne suis pas une étoile.
Je suis juste Circé.

:thumb408449104: :thumb352529565: Love healed!l'amour guérison
Ambassadeur en forme de rose
Guéri cœur brisé
l'argument oublié
English Translation
Ambassador in form of rose
Healed broken heart
Argument forgotten.
2012 Delice1941
16th August2012




English Literature / Littérature anglophone

Mature Content

i haven't forgottentell me, boy
who is your god.
do not say it
is the limbs
that spread you
between knowing
and comfort;
do not tell me it is
hands wrapping a head
board, nor a mouth
tugging your name
for salvation.
i want to know who it is
that makes you lucent,
bent beneath the dark,
weeping,
because there is no divinity
like the one that makes
you bleed
Merely StarsAll that we thought was lost is merely stars,
Burning brighter still than moon or sun;
But far, so far we cannot call them ours,
Waiting out of reach and never won.
This twilight drives an arrow through my soul,
Clinging to the dust at end of day.
Never to regain what bounty stole,
Driving all we ever were away.
You will always be my summer weather,
Warm and pure in ways I'll never know.
Gently in the blades of grass and heather,
'Twas you who held my hand and wouldn't go.
How far we've come and oh, how far apart--
So bright must burn the stars that light our hearts.

a letter for someone who hates thinkingin the beginning i wrote poems
about death and darkness and
the complex metaphysical arithmetic in which
that would equate to the love i carried for you,
beneath the headaches brewing like bruises
between my eyes, my ocean eyes;
even after convincing me the planets
were dead gods, powerful skeletons with
internal expiration dates and the stars
were their lingering parables, their stories
blinking out years before we were born, i knew
you were a nuclear angel, atom bomb
savior sent to save me from
me.
there is no more mystery
in the world. i sent you
five letters to the PO box you told me
about in florida, the first
was a catalogue of every
angsty song lyric or campy postcard
or description of a flower
crooked in just the right way
that reminded me of you,
the second was a retelling
of every dream i woke from
forgetting who i was,  the third
was an apology-- i'm sorry
for who i'm not and who you
need and that your dad always
reeked of bacardi, i'm sorry
for my bukowski-wannabe complex a

Mature Content





Images

on my bench bench bench by shitpitcher Eternite... by Herculanum
:thumb372123048:

Mature Content

Tempo by CaroleBaillyMaitre
somewhere i belong by illdispose



Découvertes / Discoveries

:iconbluestwaves:
duskhe said
he could pull down the stars to stop the gravitation of the darkest nights, he
said he could rearrange the world.
                                 (for me)
(He looked up at the moon that night,
a moon that created a path on the water.
He counted the falling stars that we couldn't see,
and told me they were enough to cage in a supernova)
he said
that the winter was about to end.
With his hands on the ground and his eyes for the sky,
he said he could trace the way back home through the ocean,
through the rising mist, in the hour of the wolf.
When I asked him if it would be worth it,
he said he had survived many winters
augustYour father told you once
you should find a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes,
and that should be perfection.
             
                 
                                      Your luck was
that you found me instead
with a sailor heart and witchfingers,
and a storybook,
and a universe of inconsistencies.
However, you chose,
Scylla over Caribdes;
and maybe for a heaven lost you gained
a golden chest guarded under the bluest waves.
I'm noone to say if you did well or not,
but my blood is not mine anymore,
the wolves run free under the solstice moon,
and currents dam,
and without you, I'm not going stargazing.
summer is a liebehind the thunderstorms and mud puddles,
the flies and mexican balads,
the wastelands that look like monte and
the riverwater that smells like ocean.
What's a horizon? There's no horizon.
But up high there are coyote tales and no air, no air at all.
Lungs withering
gils straining
bones bleaching
desert desert
roads that go on forever,
nowhere.
In the middle of the sterile night, the crickets.
No shorelines.
where are you?


:iconnabium:
riding on cats dressed in linenI.
serpent, arise
I will be waiting
I will await your grace,
bird born from the ashes
and silently
contemplating the 'supreme medium grace'
I consider the faith of waiting;
trying to surrender
is not really surrendering
I am not tired of waiting
and the moon in the water
is reflected on the sky
II.
silently I will be waiting
lady riding on cats dressed in linen
I will await your love
Chakana, Malbecone bottle
two bottles
three bottles
but still the emptiness remains
northern windit's blowing
cars are crashing
the night have left the town empty
she was seen under the lamp post
walking sideways against the wind
a fire truck cries in the distant
her body hurts
but she likes the shame
she knows how to turn her heart off




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FuzzyHoser's avatar
:clap: Fantastic feature!