PunchDrunkLover

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A Painter by PunchDrunkLover, literature

Literature

A Painter

She spoke and cast thin scars upon your hands-- scalding and marking--her voice--a blooming aster-- a laurel tree--scattering seedy strings of thought-- bequeathing her soil to us--shading and spoiling us-- sprouting and sheltering us from the ballasts of her song-- I should like to carve her lined face, around her eyes, below her jaw, cutting each into teemed rhyme. To feel the bridge of her nose, smooth beneath my fingers and thin lips, parted, and shaping, finally molding life into geometric form. But no model rests so long for my hands to brand them into beauty. Shall it always be I, stunned with harmony and never I, Jovian s

Meeting by PunchDrunkLover, literature

Literature

Meeting

Cut your sign language upon my breast. I hear bark split beneath your dress. You wear torn tights - black - an olive vest. I catch your noise lilting on my breath. Descend your rough branch. Scale down for me. Sun shall fail if we may - Sea shall sing - just sweet - and I hear high tide receding where our hearts shall meet. Can peppered ribbons musk raw palms, burnt sea-grass? Can they kill fresh night? Will winds betray our fragrant firmament? Our sky so still, distilled, still turning, turned gray, turned lilac with sun-leaked light. Bulbs bloom on hollow dunes.

The snow appeared by PunchDrunkLover, literature

The Joy of Life by PunchDrunkLover, literature

First Date by PunchDrunkLover, literature

wet nightmare by PunchDrunkLover, literature

Literature

wet nightmare

this is mongoose. this is mongoose alone. this is divine heat in the pear tree. this is mongoose in the pear tree. this is earth wearied with weight. this is moon-- watching. this is empty hallway. this is fleshy pink and wet. this is an extreme case. this can't recure itself. this is snake. this is me. this, cobra; this, asp. this cannot be pregnant. this cannot fill only poison. this wraps me in coils. this is harlotry. this is snake in a pear tree. this is mongoose hissing. these are no smooth skin these are no fine hair these are no smooth lips this is a dream. this is me. this is every night, inevitably.

consummation by PunchDrunkLover, literature

metamorphic by PunchDrunkLover, literature

heat by PunchDrunkLover, literature

Literature

heat

night i'm home empty house but giggles coming from the walk-in closet where i keep my mongoose it is looking at me (demigod) hovel made of dresses it uses them as tunnels (i pretend they're wombs i could birth myself in again) it's giggling squeezing into tight pencil skirts its claws mark the floor its feet are withered it's been running in the closet wall to wall to wall

hiding by PunchDrunkLover, literature

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A Painter by PunchDrunkLover, literature

Literature

A Painter

Meeting by PunchDrunkLover, literature

Literature

Meeting

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A Warm Wish by gormanda, literature

Literature

A Warm Wish

Will the nights still be mine, Once you've found your provider? Your chest still aching, Your fingers still shaking; Your pain still profound, And still profoundly yours, In all its cold crimson ache-- However distant it may seem From your warm catharsis. Will your body still arch empty in the darkness? Will I embrace you, whimpering, And put your every little bone in place, holding you at rest? Your flesh, your pain Upon my imperfect breast. I pray, instead, you leave no trail of crumbs, I pray you bask in oven-light glow-- Your skin taking on a smoothness You've only coveted in the past. Then by the fringe of a skirt she

The State of Things by gormanda, literature

Literature

The State of Things

I am lonely and you can't help me, You say, flatly. But you have articulated it so well. You lie thin in the grass Looking at beauty you will never hold And never have You are so small, you are almost nothing. You are laughing and you are being so strong finding promise of happiness in what is bittersweet I try to do the same. Looking at you looking at her, I almost want to call that whole thing love But it is not. It is something else. When I touch you, When I glow in your admiration of her (If I make myself love her) I am still nothing And you are still lonely.

You by gormanda, literature

For Lauren by gormanda, literature

Literature

For Lauren

An unnaturally thorny rose Tattooed across your flat belly-- To protect you, you said. Lauren- I wish I could see you only in that vague sense that I once did, Seeing you, knowing you, only from a picture, Fake black hair and ballet clothes, Neither a smile nor a frown on your thin white face. I am not to say which of your daily aches were real, And which were manufactured like your leather-boots; But you made sure the pain of each stomp was shared. Lauren- I wish I could talk to you like I imagined I might have, once Before you hurt your leg and spoke only in commands, Before you hurt your back and spoke only in pained

Exercise in Imitation by bigofficewindow, literature

Divorce Haiku by bigofficewindow, literature

Melvin the Pirate by Peechiz, literature

The Reconstruction by blakshadowdmiror, literature

Literature

The Reconstruction

577.54- Desert Ecology The mountains protect the city that I live in. They rise from the ground around every side, like natural walls to a castle, but the moat does not exist- we only get four inches of rain a year. The people live in the valley between the vast black mountains speckled with green cacti. It is barren, any shrubbery is brown and wilting- like overused coffee filters. There are no stoplights, only stop signs to control the minimal traffic. Along the streets there are signs warning people of horse drawn carriages and desert wildlife-deer, javelina, and coyotes. Up the hill of School House Road going north further from civilizat

Paper Heaven by Peechiz, literature

Literature

Paper Heaven

The first time we kissed, it was as if all the legos fell into place. It was perfect. We spent mornings staring at the ceiling together, brushing the night’s rest from our eyelids. We went on long walks to anywhere, taking pictures as we went. I giggled and told you that this particular sunset was better than the rest. This one god made for you, personally. That’s why the clouds were so white, and the sky was so orange-purple. We traded chocolate chip kisses and secret handshakes, truth-or-dares and tickle fights. We stayed up all night watching movies on m

About PunchDrunkLover

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Dec 22
United States
Deviant for 16 years

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PunchDrunkLover

May 3, 2010

Haiku

0 min read

Seventeen syllables Opened the door To memory, to meaning. In a haiku, the number of syllables in any one line is optional, but the sum total of the three lines must always be seventeen. Unpacking. Repacking. Packing. Seeing you and you-- and all alike. Waiting and writing. Soon your car will come. And, soon, you'll be in my arms.

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PunchDrunkLover

Mar 11, 2010

Soul-Knowledge

0 min read

And a man said, Speak to us of Self-Knowledge.     And he answered, saying:     Your hearts know in silence the secrets of the days and the nights.     But your ears thirst for the sound of your heart's knowledge.     You would know in words that which you have always known in thought.     You would touch with your fingers the naked body of your dreams.     And it is well you should.     The hidden well-spring of your soul must needs rise and run murmuring to the sea;     And the treasure of your infinite depths would be revealed to your eyes.     But let there be no scales to weigh your unknown treasure;     And seek not

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PunchDrunkLover

Aug 9, 2009

Let me ask you something.

0 min read

You know what's going to happen now. You should admit your situation--there would be more dignity in it. If the rule you followed brought you to this, of what use was the rule?

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Profile Comments 119

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Happy Birthday

dude, happy birthday!

cheers
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