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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
July 21, 2017
heart-shaped UFO by ChampMagnetique
Featured by BeccaJS
Suggested by PolarAnemone
Literature Text
the night is barking among the dogs
moaning over the family shame
preaching to the deaf like a blind demagogue
so where’s the collector of common blame now?
something is soaring above the house
heart-shaped and half-baked
it’s slowly making us roused
there was a cadence of stars yesterday
despite the awe they’re sharp as a butcher’s knife
they flew in through walls and window panes
she tried to pick them up and she just cut her hands
and there was a strife about the afterlife
god, these boundless hours, so lurid!
moulded into this blushing bride of mine
locked in a spire by heavens so arid
stagnant in solace she’s mortal and quivering
her heart inside out and her soul on decline
moaning over the family shame
preaching to the deaf like a blind demagogue
so where’s the collector of common blame now?
something is soaring above the house
heart-shaped and half-baked
it’s slowly making us roused
there was a cadence of stars yesterday
despite the awe they’re sharp as a butcher’s knife
they flew in through walls and window panes
she tried to pick them up and she just cut her hands
and there was a strife about the afterlife
god, these boundless hours, so lurid!
moulded into this blushing bride of mine
locked in a spire by heavens so arid
stagnant in solace she’s mortal and quivering
her heart inside out and her soul on decline
Literature
groupthink and gardens
we've grown so used to
stepping on flower buds before they can bloom because
they're a different color than everyone else's and
different doesn't fall into the category of "good" or "acceptable."
different doesn't fit here,
so we try and try again to soak stems in food colored water and
thick-coat paint on petals hoping that maybe our defects
will sprout some sense and learn to conform
and match the rest.
we took seeds from other gardens
and planted them in our own until our yards
looked the exact same as theirs and then
our flowers weren't a different color than everyone else's anymore and
that scared me.
i wanted deviation;
i had no desire
Literature
Communication Error: Short Story
This is probably the first writing assignment in a long time that I’ve enjoyed writing because our teacher gave us the option to write it in English. It’s been so long since I’ve gotten to do anything in English so you better believe that I’d jump on that opportunity right away. But this particular assignment is special because we’re going to put them in a envelope and mail them to ourselves in the past. The day right before the aliens take over.
Oh, sorry, spoiler alert.
I should probably backtrack a bit, since I’m going to be reading this whole thing in the past. I am currently in my second year of N
Literature
This Side of the Clouds
there is soil
that will never produce flowers,
rain that chokes
more than it quenches,
and some stones, unsatisfied
with being near-impenetrable,
still opt to wage
slow crystallized war
beating back the plague of man
for we are willful, but empty,
a collected misdirection
that lost so much more
than just its way,
our mineral eyes may be diamonds
but the setting is loose
and their cut has no character
merely fluid, taking the shape
of situation and its spoils
we're dead as an uncelebrated christ
dead like old grain in the silo
vermin crawled, rot riddled
awaiting a further processing
we must so richly deserve,
and a lick of salt and bite of
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Comments8
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Congrats on the DD - I love the imagery.