ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
remember there is no justice,
it’s just us, just ice cold
stares and no just love
in dead winter glares
or frozen snow season gloves.
and i am an epicurean hologram
stating the obvious
to a person who doesn’t really
have it all figured out
but to be honest,
no one really does
so don’t take that personally.
i only know you
from poetic endeavors
and while you claim
there is nothing to see here,
your living organisms
juxtapose your mantra
of transparency.
words born
from the mouth are not still
and if we forget who we are,
then we can remember
we were born actual.
stillborn kill cords
and discord wave around
dissonance from far-away places
but my antennae need
the, the, the, the-- my message
to reach radiowaves
with wildfire pen ink tips.
part two comes unexpectedly
because this is more
stream of acuity
with mercurial rhythm pitches
than a well thought-out
planned of attack.
i just know you inspire
and i aspire to write
words that perspire
admiration, adoration
and love for an earthling
whose brain i need to pick.
inconspicuous notions
swirl about as if they
have something to say
but forget it at the tip
of their tongue.
and i can’t remember
what the point of this really was
besides me saying
that i fell in love with your poetry
and because you made it,
i love you too.
it’s just us, just ice cold
stares and no just love
in dead winter glares
or frozen snow season gloves.
and i am an epicurean hologram
stating the obvious
to a person who doesn’t really
have it all figured out
but to be honest,
no one really does
so don’t take that personally.
i only know you
from poetic endeavors
and while you claim
there is nothing to see here,
your living organisms
juxtapose your mantra
of transparency.
words born
from the mouth are not still
and if we forget who we are,
then we can remember
we were born actual.
stillborn kill cords
and discord wave around
dissonance from far-away places
but my antennae need
the, the, the, the-- my message
to reach radiowaves
with wildfire pen ink tips.
part two comes unexpectedly
because this is more
stream of acuity
with mercurial rhythm pitches
than a well thought-out
planned of attack.
i just know you inspire
and i aspire to write
words that perspire
admiration, adoration
and love for an earthling
whose brain i need to pick.
inconspicuous notions
swirl about as if they
have something to say
but forget it at the tip
of their tongue.
and i can’t remember
what the point of this really was
besides me saying
that i fell in love with your poetry
and because you made it,
i love you too.
Gratuity Treasure Chest
Joining this tier, you gain access to a reserved extra content that are carefully crafted just for you.
Your subscription doesn't just support my art; it fuels it, allowing me to dedicate more time and resources to producing even more of the content you love. It's a partnership that propels this project forward.
Join me in this exclusive tier, and together, let's take this artistic adventure to new heights. Your appreciation fuels my passion.
$2/month
Literature
things I never told you.
some poems feel like water.
this one is more like sand,
and I'm suffocating in the maw
of a desert that was better left
rusting its clairvoyance.
it started one night when I remembered
that I've kept everything you've ever given me:
roses, faces, promises.
I never really understood
how to let things go,
and when the thought of
turning the things you'd touched
away from my doorstep
choked the poetry from my throat,
I realized why.
I keep reminding myself that
I should probably be nicer to you,
but I think you already know
that I'm only capable of being nice
when I'm cornered and out of ideas.
and despite what you claim,
you've never been
Literature
Tongues of flame (burn all they touch)
the candle
is
burning
at both ends
today;
i'm stuck here
waiting
with matches
in my mouth,
ashes
on my tongue
wondering
if you'll hear me
before
i run out
of bones
to
burn.
(come back)
Literature
so let us melt
i.
she must have been a beacon,
off-colour orange glass, tilted,
splitting herself in two -
he wonders
how many times she has
melted only to reshape
herself anew, each sinew
a promise snapped in two,
each smile a dying
candle.
ii.
learning to catch
fireflies in jars is an
art form of trailing sparks
down strong shoulders
and weak collarbones.
they burn, his lips and
fingers scorched
but he drowns in her light;
together they paralyze
behind glass.
iii.
if the universe was formed
from dancing spirits, they'd be
entwined orange flames
creating light for each other
in a world of darkness.
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
and i adore you. love like there is no tomorrow, write until paths clear, until nightmares turn to clean air. scheherazades is lovely, an inspiration, and i've fallen for their poetry and through that, i love them. everyone check then out, they've quickly become one of my favorite writers and has definitely been one of the best discoveries for me on deviantART.
EDIT: This poem was read aloud by jade-pandora and it can be listened to here: thelastlightproductions.com/au…
Also, credits to RetroZombie for the audio conversion.
You guys are lovely. <33
EDIT: This poem was read aloud by jade-pandora and it can be listened to here: thelastlightproductions.com/au…
Also, credits to RetroZombie for the audio conversion.
You guys are lovely. <33
© 2014 - 2024 chromeantennae
Comments89
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Wonderful work, sir. 
And Jadey's reading brought out a whole new level to an already amazing poem.
And Jadey's reading brought out a whole new level to an already amazing poem.