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procedureMidazolamprocedure by `thetaoofchaos
the formula for amazement: a rare pollen from the surplus field
where horses haven’t grazed since April’s warm orgy
left a bindweed pink disease,
unrepenting against chainlink,
nights spent foraging for a spectre to grieve over,
to watch for while it elevates and descends
like a dumb waiter serving sunlight
to jealous little bastards, birthed and trailing in umbilicals,
sleepy, glass-eyed hydras
who never listen to anything,
uninvolved in my tiny drama,
the feeling of losing my treasured afflictions,
the mythos that fastens the concrete to dirt,
the wind to my spirit-skin,
is dulling the edges of the skyhead

it's no wonder i thought you were magicdeep within the bowels of the apparatusit's no wonder i thought you were magic by `thetaoofchaos
a speck’s been digested:
my minuscule existence.
and my realm is small within it.
there’s barely enough real estate
in the halo
for my car
much less
a kitchen and a stove
a bedroom window with a woman
and the floor
pooling
with her nightclothes.
they blink in and out and i can’t
recover them
all at once.
i string them along like a necklace
of invisible trinkets
and hope they last through the afternoon.
what in god’s lonely name do i really have?
it’s no wonder
why i puzzle the suburbs
of crumb palaces
looking for a piece to fit an ending
and make high ceilin

narrativewhynarrative by `thetaoofchaos
do they continue to see the world
as being told,
stories
about something,
somewhere,
someone?
like when you wrestle with indifference
as the phone rings and rings
and stops
and rings
again
and some girl you've forgotten
leaves a hundred messages
while you are playing video games
on an ancient contraption
your father bought you
10 years ago
in a rare moment of
generosity
which you promptly
dismissed
and every dish you own
balances like a trophy in the sink
with ramen noodle scraps
and old mashed potatoes
and you contemplate for a fraction of a second
the time when you realized that you could live,
you could breathe and sleep and bre

windstorms and labworkafflatus, inflatus, my morning globe,windstorms and labwork by `thetaoofchaos
as lithe as your impermanence.
and home! dread homes! are rabbit dugs,
spoonholed piles of mexican brick
where nothing ever touches down,
nothing here alive receives
the plains’ poor offering of gypsy light,
the ugly wind that meets the mudline.
[metaphors]
1. a mottled fence
2. and how these storms hold faceless teeth
that slat their eyes through butter-wood
then purge their guts on wintered florets
4. some freshly headless nativities,
their polyethylene skirts upturned
from violent sacks
5. and knowing i’m a souless
speck
i lick at what is manifest
beneath your

And poetryeither you or iAnd poetry by ~lady-of-the-quill
will always know the difference
between sin and sacrifice
in the right time
from hate to noblesse
qui n'oblige pas, I traveled
and you remained
in the right place
migration, with fists,
violence, revolt and poetry.
out of the revolving doors,
my sun shines now

On PsychologyIOn Psychology by *MattVoscinar
I am writing this in a filthy apartment. There are empty beer bottles lined on my desk next to two bottles of sleeping pills and fast food wrappers. My head hurts. Something always hurts. Sometimes I write poetry. Mom seems to be proud of me, she says I'll make something of myself and I believe her. I cannot help but think you wouldn't feel the same. And to think that I have the chance to abandon her.
II
She burned the letters
all of them.
I read them aloud and wept
even though someone else wrote them.
You passed the task to someone
whose hands didn't tremble,
whose vision didn't blur,
whose breath didn't smell of stolen wine o

The Farmers SonWe sat sipping grappa as the storm clouds rolled in from the ridgesThe Farmers Son by *brassteeth
like the smoke from some great unseen inferno,
the wood walls and shingles of the house complained to us
in low groans,
of the wind coming up hard, through the valley,
and there was flickering light from a candle,
and she told me how light from a prism dissects into different colours that correspond
in some way to our bodies and that all of life was a rhythm
and I believed that part,
and I believed there were stars beyond the sight of man on any grey day
and that they might hold some greater secret than prisms or rhythms
or any question a farmers son could ever

FacedA brain tangle, yep-Faced by *Sssorry
sure as the mud in April.
Bring it on, baby-
we mountain maidens
ain't half as dumb as our lives
become, surviving.

These MenThey are not what I thought they would be,These Men by ~Bandaloop-searcher
These men,
With their hair to the floor and their nails to the quick.
With their cups half-empty and their eyes half-closed.
With stains on the floor where they walked,
And cigarettes on tables, not quite making it to the ashtray.
They are covered in years of filth and wreckage
And a plague of undergrowth,
With stools rooted in place and boots not attempting to wiggle free from quicksand.
With cards scattered on the floor and holes in the heads of cheaters.
With a thousand empty seats
And hearts just the same.
They don't offer a nod when their drinks arrive and
They only speak if rem

psychiatry of lonely nightsThe Psychiatry Of Lonely Nightspsychiatry of lonely nights by ~Ghrey
I.
we open your chest,
we find his words tucked inside
they hide within each crevice
each folded, words from letters,
you stored them in your ribs,
you'd swallowed them whole,
flossing them between bones
and sealing them closed
only to open to us lonely nights
or a sleepless time
or a remembered phrase at the bedside
once covered over by parietal
peritoneum and solemnstitch,
hopethread, worryneedle,
pierce of each enunciation
and far-off thought
cut apart by an ample knife
a thoughtful gaze
heart hurt to see the sight
feeling like concrete
sifted around the valves
off-set with cracks
al
| my favorite dA poetry |
Daily Literature Deviations for May 13th, 2013Daily Literature Deviations for May 13th, 2013 by =DailyLitDeviations
Guidelines | How to Suggest a DLD | Group Adm
Daily Literature Deviations for May 15th, 2013Guidelines | How to Suggest a DLD | Group Administrators | Affiliation | Chatroom | Current Staff OpeningsDaily Literature Deviations for May 15th, 2013 by =DailyLitDeviations
Daily Lit Deviations for May 15th, 2013
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Daily Literature Deviations for May 16th, 2013Guidelines | How to Suggest a DLD | Group Administrators | Affiliation | Chatroom | Current Staff OpeningsDaily Literature Deviations for May 16th, 2013 by =DailyLitDeviations
Daily Lit Deviations for May 16th, 2013
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Daily Literature Deviations for May 17th, 2013Guidelines | How to Suggest a DLD | Group Administrators | Affiliation | Chatroom | Current Staff OpeningsDaily Literature Deviations for May 17th, 2013 by =DailyLitDeviations
Daily Lit Deviations for May 17th, 2013
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| Daily Literature Deviation news articles |
I'm open for requested critiques - mainly free verse poetry, but I'll consider other forms. Please note me with a link or links to pieces you would like critiqued, and I will add them to the list. NOTE: You do not need premium membership critique enabled on your piece. Death Plays the Piano Thousand Star October Haze by ~TheGlassIris remembering by *ersatz-moon Wasteland by ~Infractusgrace |
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i am a poetry and general admin for please note me if you would like to suggest a poem to be featured in a DLD news article. my suggestion guidelines i'm also a cofounder over at I'm the founder at I'm the founder at I'm the founder at I'm the founder at |
i've started a stamp collection. because, that's what people do. if you make one for me, i'll put it up here. ![]() thanks `KathrynODriscoll ![]() |