Newest
SmokeThere are so many times when (in a room poured over with eyelash-thick darkness I tell secrets, everyone else's, that rise and curl brittle likeSmoke
smoke from myself and I speak them to the tree outside and the hills and the cars.
I am sprouting in the dark like an anti-rose. It
by ~sollunaestrella
Picking Up Timei. I think there is a hill with a flower for every second of my life.Picking Up Time
And flower-snapshot beginnings, my dear, are not always best. The gift of a bouquet, plucked silently, with a pulse to it, that culminates from a spray of daisies and pray-he-does-not-forget-mes to a finale of deep and red,
roses that are so deep and so red,
sings
by the grace in movements of dancers coupled in tiny continuous photograph-pockets of time,
measured in the posies of art that connect the ringing staccatos of a celeste pinging o
by ~sollunaestrella
DA Ruined My Title.i. SymphoniaDA Ruined My Title.
We built ourselves through years and years of sight, smiles, stalking, even, all hints and unspokenness, shoulders and beauty
ii. Subitus pons
Maybe induced by wind, fog, ocean and the tensions of bones that must
it was throbbed into a suddenly, a hit-and-run:
he kissed me at his graduation and (Going Ivy League Months Shy) he never really showed me his bones
again
iii. Facies cantantes
I think he loved me but then I only saw him
by ~sollunaestrella
Unfinished SymphonyIt was a little like a chocolate-covered strawberry, Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony. He reflected on this as he hoisted his cello up the stairs and onto the stage. Simple, short, easy – and yet nothing in the world more satisfying. The scrape of his chair against the wooden stage floor went dead in the carpeting of the auditorium. He had never understood that carpet, big and mud-blue with the memory of dirt and gum and shoes. Less he understood the giant windows with the impossible shutters hanging at the top of the walls. “Where is everyone?” the conductor askeUnfinished Symphony
by ~sollunaestrella
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: Maine (home), Massachusetts (school)
- Interests: music: singing, flute, organ, composition; writing, reading, the Yankees
- Favourite movie: West Side Story, Shall We Dance?, A Mighty Wind, Anastasia, Beauty and the Beast, Chicago, LOTR
- Favourite band or musician: Renée Fleming, Emmanuel Pahud, the Beatles, Paul McCartney, Muse, Vienna Teng, the list goes on
- Favourite genre of music: baroque, romantic, impressionistic, classic rock, musical theater, jazz... almost anything, really
- Favourite poet or writer: J. R. R. Tolkein, Chaim Potok, Douglas Adams, Tennyson, T.S. Eliot
Well, that was ineffective.
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Garin tirio len?
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"Language is the picture and counterpart of thought." (Mark Hopkins)
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"Language is the picture and counterpart of thought." (Mark Hopkins)
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< GunShyMartyr > PinkyMcCoversong: o hi asl plz
< PinkyMcCoversong > GunShyMartyr: ask again in a cockney accent
< GunShyMartyr > ELLO daaaahling, what's yah name then. giveus a kiss would ya love? yer eighteen roite?
Just letting you know that I selected one of your pieces for a musical-themed feature, which you can check out here -> [link]
Great gallery, and keep up the lovely work.
If you use meter, or would like to learn, please drop by!
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Metrical poets of the world: Unite!
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Please visit my gallery
-----------------------------------
soaring towards enlightment...
waldemar pfordte
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Twitter // My blog // Facebook
Comment to comment, not to get them back
Spread the DA love around! (you can copy and paste this message on their userpage!)
*dingding* RULES:
1- You can hug the person who hugged you!
2- You can't hug the person more than 3 times
3- You -MUST- hug 6 other people
4- You should hug them in public! Paste it on their user page! c'mon..don't be scared of public displays of affection
5- Random hugs are perfectly okay! (and sweet)
6- You should most definitly get started hugging right away!
--
Little girls and butterflies need no excuse. - Robert A. Heinlein
To see a World in a grain of sand,
And a Heaven in a wild flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand,
And Eternity in an hour.... - William Blake
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