Suggestion to DeviantARTA NEW Daily Deviations Process !?
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Points and LineMy path crosses many others
But it never joins any
There are only brief intersections
But never bifurcations
Making every person I meet
Only a point
One of many
In an endless sucession
Building the line
The line of my life
And these points
Keep coming and going
One after the other
Some are in the past
Some are in the future
Almost none has a meaning
Nor a reason to be remembered
Just bits of this brief
Leaving me alone
As a single point
In the human network
sound becomes noiseshrink wrap rips from the thighs
these tired flags drop;
used to flap them clapping into rooms of empty hands,
now the shadows on the walls have pterodactyl faces,
used to wait for the blinking ahead,
you aren't ghost, your codes just uninvertible,
your parallel an axis spearing straight into what?
couldn't hear; will not slow over unfortified drivel,
will not coo into this river's pinna,
bled dry these taxpayers for the reins
the torrent cleaved through,
now tread taklamakan of debt, leader;
saran wrap stitched onto eyes for sight loss,
the weight of data pulsing and leaving this
hatch; pigeons into archaeopteryxes,
EmbersDo it, they mocked. He's never seen anything like you.
You could break the crooked thing.
She sinks onto his sheets.
The bed smells like a long day's work.
He wavers in the doorway.
He knows iron and marble,
Hears no one's breath but the bellows.
She's never seen anything like him.
His voice shocks her -
It is searching, like a lantern in a mine.
She melts under his hands like molten gold.
He trembles, bent-winged like a sparrow.
Calloused fingers cradle,
Cheeks smudge with soot.
She is no trophy, no toy,
No thing abandoned on a pedestal.
Her laugh, his favorite sound
Ringing like wedding bells.
Her darling mountain man - deep doe eyes
And taut muscle beneath burnished skin.
Stay. He is simple. Stay here.
She does not want to go back.
Anvil and steel are a new language,
Long hair sheared short, pliant arms become hard and lean.
No one will miss her.
No one remembers his name.
Jagged, they called him. Broken.
But together they weld, pal
across my piece of sky
beacon of the deep
number for a name
silent sparkling sentinel
chasing after dawn
I wish upon
tide gone outpoetry
playing a part
into the night
Summer StarPick yourself
a Summer Star -
on the wind -
Lean and lilt
above the hill-
a Summer Star -
keep it close
hear the sighs
of Summer Skies...