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Literature
and then the gods come forth
       your lips were bleeding ichor,
as you dreamt beneath the universe
and i thought to myself...
  i. head underwater, they watch you
with cassiopeia eyes as you
seep into her star-stricken skin
   ii. we carved our names in hearts
on the flesh of dryads, arms
branched out, head full of sky
ever-expanding, infinity between
our fingertips,
but falling leaves
indicate that the tree is dying
  iii. iii. you're like a flower in the winter,
storm tucked behind your ears, and
oblivion in the corners of your lips
the summer heat is getting to your head
fall-ing for you-is the season of change
(but have i not changed enough for you?)
  iv. i think of you spilling out the lyrics
to a heartsong, a blurry crescendo,
with the drip-drip-dripping melody
of the november rains and the honey
sunsets that fill up your cheeks that
you'll never realize you're singing all the
             w r o n g w o r d s
  vi
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Literature
to the man who sang siren songs
       i. to the old fisherman i once loved,
you are prehistoric and bleeding
salt water and broken fish bones
like the red sea's flowing from your fingertips
where i left you for another dawn's desire
i love your sea-spangled melancholia
but for what it's worth, i'm not
your little fisher girl
(you reeled me in and spit me out)
       ii. you look beautiful, babe, when
your coral-reef bones whistle and crack
like seven years of bad luck wasn't good enough
for you to sail with me holding on to your ship hull
       iii. i am dew dressed and sun bathing in your eyes
that wayward fish tailed woman's the one, you said
       iv. i'm a little girl's fairytale,
empty-hearted and bruise-battered, i fight
the current that keeps us apart
       v. you're suffering from dehydration, hon
'cause you're missing me in your ocean-trench heart
there's moss growing from your fingertips and pearls
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Literature
Mirror
I look into the mirror to see
how I might look in my own eyes;
the whole of me.
But all I see now is what
you haven't already taken from me.
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Literature
because we all long for the tempest
       i. my little sailor boy,
you are clockwise and fumbling
your fragile wrists struggle around
the edges of your wanderlust's atlas
open your star spangled eyes
and get your head out of the clouds
you're going in circles
(don't make the same mistake
columbus did)
       ii. the tide has pushed you away
your eyes are inkshot in the candlelight
your hands intwined and overrun around
billowing sails and chipped wood
  my little sailor boy,
the seas grow cold and the skies darken
the farther you stray from your
treasure-locked heart
don't put the anchor down
(you've gone too far, now)
       iii. swim the seas of stardust
and venture through supernovae
the moon shall see your true phase
these seas are hungry and cruel
if you are ever to sucCEDE
you will leave word-hungry and heavy-hearted
 (leave mundane, fool)
       iv. my little sailor boy,
perhaps i have a pi
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Literature
A Hundred Heartbeats
The beginning of a life
is one of the most beautiful
things experienced by mankind.
But we are always caught up
in our own.
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Literature
nobody will know
Watch the sun set.
Realize that was.
A long time ago.
Light the fireplace.
Warm your feet.
Feel colder than ever.
Watch the thunder.
Think for hours.
Speak no words.
Tell no stories.
Open the door when.
You hear someone knock.
Regret it for the rest of your life.
Walk down the stairs.
Wear yourself.
Daydream at the dinner table.
Until your dinner's gotten cold.
Eat it.
Say you like it.
It's all you have left.
Burn your memories.
Doubt your dreams.
Shut out your ideas.
Keep the picture of.
Yourself.
Burn it too.
Put on a coat.
Open the door.
Leave through it.
Board the train.
Watch the rain pour.
Think endlessly.
Be confused.
It will keep you distracted.
Enter the store.
Ask for something.
They will not have it.
Leave the store.
Come back.
The way you came.
Get lost by the bus stop.
Repeat it all over again.
Until it kills you.
Nobody will ever know.
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... by SpiderwebWisher ... :iconspiderwebwisher:SpiderwebWisher 1 0
Literature
we are gravity bound and breathing
       i. my dear stargirl,
breathe in
we are lost and fragile with
fragments and puzzle pieces to carry
with lopsided wings and glass-bottom hearts
we are unlimited
(you are star stuff and daydreaming
of a transient world
)
       ii. your mind is as vast as the dusk day,
singing you a dream song lullaby
everything is too good to be true, and
we are blind behind melodic bird-song
   wish you may and
wish you might on that little star
you see tonight because, that star is falling
(just like you did)
       
       iii. you are beautiful, my dear,
when you cut your stories into constellations
and hide them deep into the night sky
but you made the mistake of keeping the key
under the doormat
you are infinitesimal but forever expanding
(but only until you hit supernovae, and it'll all
be over
)
       iv. shadows lie elsewhere
leaving you the lasting expression
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Literature
carry me to the countryside
       i. when i was a little girl,
i wanted to die on the countryside
my lighthouse eyes straight ahead
and my head laid against the cornfields
to breathe in the daylight and breathe out the mo(u)rn
my mama said that would be
a very long time from now
(i'm sorry to disappoint you, mama)
        ii. my house was whisked away to oz
when i fell asleep beneath the cherry-red poppies
i ran and fell down the rabbit hole on the way back
my hair entangled with the willow trees
autumn leaves stuck to my rain boots
as my jacket stuck to close to my skin
and i felt human for the first time in ages
(i'm not a child anymore)
       iii. asleep during midsummer
i am sunbright and innocent
(someday, my sweetheart)
       iv. little miss sunshine,
i miss your bird sing-song voice
and your bottle-it-up laughter
your macaroni hair and
your sweet acorn eyes
that cheshire cat smile
but most of all, i miss
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Literature
Do You Remember Me?
Do you remember me?
...No? Well then, maybe this will help you remember.
I live in an village filled with children and young couples, you'll know it when you see how happy everyone is. You'll know which house I live in, it's the one which everyone stays away from, you'll see me sitting by my windowsill, watching, because it's far too cold for an old lady like me to go out.
I took life for granted.
The pavement will be covered completely in snow, and the children next door are laughing, but they sound far off in the distance, and I don't know if the familiarity is peaceful, or painful. That's the problem with old fellas like me. I'm not sure of anything anymore. You'll see me look at my hands, wrinkled and worn out, and a speckled emerald ring on my finger is now only a sad reminder, of better times. You'll see me turn my head slowly to look at my old wallpaper, tearing at the seams, and the corners of my room are collecting dust.
We share similarities, me and my house.
If you look insi
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Literature
Introduction - TheMediaCritic
Who am I?
Hullo! I'm SpiderwebWisher. :wave: I was born on January 19 (you're not getting my age) into a creative family (in which, my mother is a writer, a teacher and a storyteller, my father is a singer-song writer, and musician, and my aunt is an artist and art therapist) that had just evolved itself from a family line of lawyers, businessmen and government officials.
What do I do?
Well, I consider myself a writer, even though writing is just a hobby of mine. I like to write fiction stories, and poems every once and awhile.
Why am I here at TheMediaCritic?
I'm here to help other deviants get the feedback and motivation they deserve. I do that for the same reason I stay here at deviantART; I came for the art, I stay for the community. Many of the members of LiteraryPublications is also part of this, and I'd like to support them as well as UnThai in this (as they feel sorta like family to me). :heart:
Did I write all these questions myself?
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Literature
Flew A Firebird
I awoke to birdsong on the first morning of spring.
The house was engulfed in warm sunlight as I awoke. A tree sparrow perched itself shyly on the windowsill. It lifted it's head, pumped it's chestnut chest, and widened it's ebony-black eyes as I approached it, my hand outstretched. It twitched unsurely, as the wind picked up pace, and it began to fly across the room, and I stood and watched in awe. I found it entertaining.
It began to chirp-chirp-chirp with the breeze, in notes I didn't recognize. The air began to grow warm as it flew faster and faster, heat scraping my face, but I stood still, in confusion. Was I missing something? I stared at the palm of my hand, blazing red and charred black, and tears only making it more painful. I was screaming the next second, and the sparrow began to chirp deafeningly loud, echoing through my ears and the room.  
I awoke to birdsong on the first morning of spring.
The house was engulfed in threatening flame, surrounding the spo
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Literature
Drowned on the Floor
I drowned on the floor of the bar that night.
I'm sure some of you know that feeling when you know you're about to die, and your life flashes before your eyes. The hero in this situation doesn't give up, and they come up strong in the end. But I'm not a hero, and I am nor great or strong, and in reality, there are no heroes. Just hearts in the right place. But there were no good hearts in the right place at the right time for me. I guess I wasn't worth it.
I should have known.
The streetlights flickered on as I walked down the pavement, I could hear loud music in the distance, I was getting closer. I heard you were going to the bar, which Courtney had reserved for the party, and that was the only reason I went. Everything I head about you was perfect, everything was good and sweet and charming, and I needed someone like that to tell me they cared, someone wonderful. Someone like you.
It was a mistake.
I entered the bar, with one hand in my pocket and the other on the door handle, and I
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Literature
LPC Winter Writing Event Submission
LPC Writing Event Submission
Literary Publication's Winter Writing Event

Exercise 1: Words & The Mind
Word: Picturesque
Association: Attractive
She walked casually on the pavement, streetlights flickering, music booming from the bar nearby, and she looked absolutely perfect. I stood there, watching her from the corner, laugh and have fun on the dance floor as she tossed bottles of alcohol around to her friends. But there was something about her eyes that night. She wasn't herself.
Her blonde hair was streaked with bright colors, waving carelessly in the night breeze, her walk was natural, with something attractive about it. Her long velvet dress was beautiful, shimmering in strobe lights as she waved her hands and smiled.
Then I saw that pained look caught in the corners of her eyes.
Her dark mascara fell from her eyes to her cheeks as she ran. Her dress torn from the seams, from top to bottom. The curls from her hair were gone, and the colors were gone, and her hair stuck out w
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Literature
There Is Hope
Hope is no more
Washed away with our belongings
It's all gone
Everything is, my child
It left nothing for us
We are truly alone.


Leave our home, we said
It did not listen
Our spirits are strong enough


People together can get through this
We prayed through it's shrieks
We thought it would work


Those people are dead


Heaps of decaying dreams
Left to rot on the pavement
Is all that is left of their existence


Embrace reality, child
Know that life is cruel
Accept it, you cannot change it


Vermillion splattered across our lands
Served as our sacrifice
For what, my child, I do not know


was not prepared for this,
We were armed with knowing
It lied to us


Cold and naked in reality, child
It was our own special fantasy
We took life for granted


The most beautiful lie is our Earth, after all
Know that as a fact, my child
Now that is broke
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Literature
Like A Message
Roll yourself up like a message.
To someone you don't really know.
Go slip yourself in a bottle.
Now the world is your biggest foe.
Sleep away in a tower.
Since silence is the key to your peace.
But the shouting will only grow louder.
The battles and wars shall not cease.
Roar as loud as a lion.
Shout as loud as you ever could.
For when they come here a'marching.
You'll fall off the spot where you stood.
Roll yourself up like a message.
To the bottom you will descend.
As you're shut up tight in your bottle.
It is your life that will come to an end.
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Favourites

Journal
Daily Lit Recognition for May 26th, 2014
Daily Lit Recognition for May 26th, 2014
We are proud to feature today's Daily Literature Recognition!
You can show your support by :+favlove:ing this News Article.

Please comment and :+fav: the features and congratulate the artists!
Poetry
Suggested by saltwaterlungs
Featured by ssensory

Lydia by LeftUnfinished
Hardly any grown people take the time
to sit down and listen to children. Their ideas
and thoughts are brushed off as childish nonsense,
but they hold more truth than our words.
Featured by: chromeantennae

and the gods come forth by SpiderwebWisher
The imagery of this piece is utterly
astounding and the story-telling abilities
of Aylli shines through beautifully here.
:iconDailyLitRecognition:DailyLitRecognition
:icondailylitrecognition:DailyLitRecognition 29 1
Disney eyes practice by dennia Disney eyes practice :icondennia:dennia 1,529 35
Literature
You're Not A Poet
You’re not a poet because of strung words
Together on row upon row again
Of blank verse or perhaps liberal rhyme.
‘Slam’ all you want, other poets wonder;
Your ignorance of couplets a blunder?
Yes! I speak harshly, but it’s no gross crime,
To point with honesty failed verse of thine.
No real poet discards upper case words;
Lets prose crawl on paper like listless worms.
You seek to free verse of those stern letters,
Sever away bleak capital fetters,
But it doesn’t sing of great speech sublime,
Rather, it sneaks of writing in spare time.
Wait! before you throw me in the icy Rhine;
It’s hard to put verse together in rhyme,
To make our dull words sound great all the time,
Hear them ring out loud, like a clear clock’s chime,
Heralding a poet’s summer prime.
Yet the sacred muses weep at your crime;
Your pentameter mangled thick like slime,
The subject not gilded in raiment fine;
Your bold ink font, crystal waters divine
Tastes bitter to the ton
:iconW-Lupus:W-Lupus
:iconw-lupus:W-Lupus 225 192
Fine! by IreneMartini Fine! :iconirenemartini:IreneMartini 1,276 117 The Lego Movie by humon The Lego Movie :iconhumon:humon 5,762 445
Literature
A Princeless Princess
Once upon a time, there lived an average girl. She was nothing special – nothing to distinguish her by. She went about her life, watching and reading all the princess stories out there and wishing that she too, would meet her Prince. She held on to that hope, clinging to it for dear life.
It was pathetic, really. Over the years, she began to lose that hope. It turned into disappointment and then rage. Why had society lied to her? Why had it led her to believe that there was a Prince out there for her? She had waited patiently for him, doing nothing of interest with her life because according to the stories, happiness didn’t come until your Prince did.
Her impatience continued to grow as did her loneliness. Finally, she snapped. She sobbed in heartbrokenness over a man she had never met and never would. No Prince or gallant knight would come to sweep her off her feet. Society had lied.
As she reached this conclusion, she realized with a start, it was okay. She could be stron
:iconAzzaneth:Azzaneth
:iconazzaneth:Azzaneth 23 20
Together by Lapis-Razuri Together :iconlapis-razuri:Lapis-Razuri 2,499 58 NaNoWriMo Laptop Sticker: Mac by MoPotter NaNoWriMo Laptop Sticker: Mac :iconmopotter:MoPotter 25 5 Heroes on the wall :) by porojj Heroes on the wall :) :iconporojj:porojj 4,988 361 Anchiano by the-fogz Anchiano :iconthe-fogz:the-fogz 2,883 115 Face by Skia Face :iconskia:Skia 1,717 26 Within the Forest by Qinni Within the Forest :iconqinni:Qinni 12,315 234 The Book Tree by yanadhyana The Book Tree :iconyanadhyana:yanadhyana 451 32 food hunt by Apofiss food hunt :iconapofiss:Apofiss 6,718 204

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Oh my god. How long have I been gone... It's August 7 now, so 5 to 6 months! I guess I got super busy and I... I have no excuses.

I have around 4,232 messages in my inbox and a million new great things happening on DeviantART which I have yet to see. And... wow. I am a little overwhelmed and considering creating a new account. Until then, I will see you soon enough. :)

UPDATE: I have made a new account, at humaniety 

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SpiderwebWisher
Aylli
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Philippines

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:iconlifewithclouds:
LifewithClouds Featured By Owner Nov 4, 2015  Professional Interface Designer
please donate me points?
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:iconbirthdays:
birthdays Featured By Owner Jan 19, 2015
:woohoo: :party: :iconcakelickplz: !!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!! :iconcakelickplz: :party: :woohoo:

It's January 19th which means it's that time of the year again and your special day is here! We hope you have an awesome day with lots of birthday fun, gifts, happiness and most definitely, lots of cake! Here's to another year!

Many well wishes and love from your friendly birthdays team :love:

---
Birthdays Team
This birthday greeting was brought to you by: KoudelkaW
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:iconjasperinity:
Jasperinity Featured By Owner Jan 19, 2015
Happy birthday! :D
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:iconniimble:
Niimble Featured By Owner Jan 19, 2015
:party: :cake: :squee: Happy birthday! :squee: :cake: :party:
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:iconithaswhatitisnt:
ithaswhatitisnt Featured By Owner Nov 12, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks so much for the watch, my friend!!! :iconglomplz: :heart:
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