Newest
WalkI never got here with my shoes on. I could never find the path: it is marked by bricks a little more slippery, bits of grass without stickers, but down the path, long, long, is a little home.Walk
If I say you were under my skin, please, understand, I painted myself like a hallway: doors here, here. I come home when the sun leaves behind silence, and if you come, take off your shoes, I am spread beneath you and I am the doors, all the doors you pass into.
Slow on my feet, tender, but I come home in the presence of the Holy--
by ~completeaccident
Piss and FuryThe caves I'm digging are calling my ancestors home. Wolf-haired, doe-eyed men and women with strong arms, hearts that don't die but burst in a rush of blood and love, of other life. The caves I'm digging are buying back what we left behind.Piss and Fury
In all these years, I never turned. There are lives behind me. Hate behind me I never watched recede. My anger is shovels. Sweat. The caves I'm digging are calling forgotten home.
There are territories staked out here, piss and fury to be scrubbed out. There are holes, fist-sized, in the wal
by ~completeaccident
Where the Desert SleepsI knew the miles before the markers, I found the west by walking with the sun. I said, there are lizards in my blood, there is sandstone in my teeth.Where the Desert Sleeps
I said, I am the light's daughter, I am a cactus wren. This is my home among the thorns.
I said to trees, to starlight, I said to graves and streets and men, and you said,
Girlchild, I live too far out in the desert.
I whispered into corners, I wove into papyrus: I am the light's daughter, I am a cactus wren,
I raised my hand from lifetimes of loving, died and dried
by ~completeaccident
Letter from the Home FiresYou asked me for news from my side of the rock. I wrote, as the days passed, that it rains here, and I can hear you moving. I wrote in charcoal, on the drier walls, that the sunsets have been stunning, have been made of dreamstuff bled across the sky and every good one makes me wonder where you are going when your feet scratch against stone. The news from my side is that I keep my nose to the wind, my ear to the breeze, and walk on soft feet. The red rock, the pink sky, the sun dying every night the way we all would like to die: Those are the news from my side of thLetter from the Home Fires
by ~completeaccident
Alright :)
TireddeviantID
Devious Info
- Current Residence: Seattle, WA, USA
- Interests: Sleep. Hot baths!
- Favourite band or musician: Tori Amos, Ani DiFranco, Jars of Clay
- Favourite genre of music: Strong women, cellos, lyrics
- Favourite artist: Ursula Vernon grommets my bonnet.
- Favourite poet or writer: James Wright, Gwendolyn Brooks, ~manchaliaina, =zebrazebrazebra
- Personal Quote: Because I'm a joyful girl. Because the world owes me nothing. (Ani)
- Tools of the Trade: A very short attention span, a large library, and some fabulous Copic markers.
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-- F.
"like two mammoths tusk-locked in ernest sport at the edge of the advancing ice age, you were my mystery and i was your mystery and in time we discovered that mystery was our home."
-l.cohen
I want to let you know I have never forgotten your generosity and the blessing it was to me then...and still is.
-Kevin
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prints from kevissimo: [link]
-Em
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"Life is better than death, I believe, if only because it is less boring and because it has fresh peaches in it." - Thomas Walker
Semi-active on DeviantArt since November, 2003.
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Sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.
(-Dom)
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