ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
1
Church spire, stretching,
weds the moon.
2
Slate sky
and a heavy heat;
collapsing.
3
Embroidered stars—
celestial needlework.
4
Fairy wrens:
steeds of elven knights,
armoured all in blue.
5
Raindrops—
wet wings,
startled honeybee.
6
Huntsman
upon orange glass:
a specimen, fossilised
in amber.
7
Scarred grape,
veined in gold—
kintsugi.
8
White blossoms,
fallen like snowdrops.
9
Eagle in flight,
great wings cradling
the half-moon.
10
Pastel sun,
peeking from a soft,
smoky grey duvet.
11
The world settles;
the heavens awaken—
storm.
12
Black swans:
two arrows in tandem.
13
Mirror-verse—
sunset’s reflection,
river-bound.
14
The yellow of an
old book:
crinkled paper moon.
15
Tangled in old web—
a spider, noosed.
16
Rough brushstrokes
of a smudged landscape:
Impressionism.
17
Giant’s treasure:
pot of molten gold
spilled
along the treetops.
18
Raindrops
like gemstones,
flinging light.
Church spire, stretching,
weds the moon.
2
Slate sky
and a heavy heat;
collapsing.
3
Embroidered stars—
celestial needlework.
4
Fairy wrens:
steeds of elven knights,
armoured all in blue.
5
Raindrops—
wet wings,
startled honeybee.
6
Huntsman
upon orange glass:
a specimen, fossilised
in amber.
7
Scarred grape,
veined in gold—
kintsugi.
8
White blossoms,
fallen like snowdrops.
9
Eagle in flight,
great wings cradling
the half-moon.
10
Pastel sun,
peeking from a soft,
smoky grey duvet.
11
The world settles;
the heavens awaken—
storm.
12
Black swans:
two arrows in tandem.
13
Mirror-verse—
sunset’s reflection,
river-bound.
14
The yellow of an
old book:
crinkled paper moon.
15
Tangled in old web—
a spider, noosed.
16
Rough brushstrokes
of a smudged landscape:
Impressionism.
17
Giant’s treasure:
pot of molten gold
spilled
along the treetops.
18
Raindrops
like gemstones,
flinging light.
Literature
introspect
do you remember the rainy evening
when you showed me the architecture
of your heart?
columns of dead languages
and old money, ivy strangling
the crumbling stone:
quelle allure!
I had quite despaired
of ever seeing such a place, but you
forced open the wrought-iron gates
and allowed me to take over—
modernity manifest
in my hesitating touch.
I crept over the courtyards
like some brilliant, beautiful
bed of weeds.
Literature
Inchoate
A billowing mouth, flowering
like a fist;
daughter-child,
crimson cheeked &
sparrow boned—
I keep your heart in my p(s)alms.
Literature
zero
i swore
i would never number the poems
i wrote about myself because that
would be like ticking off the days
until my breakdown;
i was a moth, unapologetically throwing myself
at any gleam of hope; wasting my wings
on industrial promises
colors always felt much more
appropriate for the purple boiling
beneath my heart and the pallid
purposelessness of my head,
but i was born into a colorless world--
no one sees me behind the metallic scars
of my skin and iron grating of my voice against
the grain; no one sees me as more than
gray regret or monochrome mistakes,
no one sees me but
all i ever wanted was for a
fallen god with feathered he
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
Working title.
© 2014 - 2024 Concora
Comments38
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
lovely lovely stuff~