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Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Sitting in a field: Peer Pressure.
Splitting skin to yield: Fear Pleasure.
New grass swords slice/bite toes/knees.
“You, pass me the white rose. Please?”
Slip into my hand with ease.
“Grip sin, so we stand sharp bees.
Sip gin to free bland. The sleaze.”
Snippin’ two stalks, while the breeze
of blood ends talks of fake squeeze.
“One,” we say, “the bust of veins.
None betray the trust of pains.”
Skin displays red rusted chains.
“Dawn the day,” spread misted stains,
‘cross the sky bled twisted lanes.
Gloss the eye, rush ruptured mains,
sewage pipes spray, spirit wanes.
New age wipes away old scars.
Rib cage rests today, cold bars,
this sage guessed the way, so far.
Engage, lest we stray bizarre,
explore flame, poetic star...
Adore these pasts, scrawled and marred:
Memories, enthralled, stand guard.
Contrast truth. Myth flows. Lies accrue.
I pass: new red rose... on to You.
Splitting skin to yield: Fear Pleasure.
New grass swords slice/bite toes/knees.
“You, pass me the white rose. Please?”
Slip into my hand with ease.
“Grip sin, so we stand sharp bees.
Sip gin to free bland. The sleaze.”
Snippin’ two stalks, while the breeze
of blood ends talks of fake squeeze.
“One,” we say, “the bust of veins.
None betray the trust of pains.”
Skin displays red rusted chains.
“Dawn the day,” spread misted stains,
‘cross the sky bled twisted lanes.
Gloss the eye, rush ruptured mains,
sewage pipes spray, spirit wanes.
New age wipes away old scars.
Rib cage rests today, cold bars,
this sage guessed the way, so far.
Engage, lest we stray bizarre,
explore flame, poetic star...
Adore these pasts, scrawled and marred:
Memories, enthralled, stand guard.
Contrast truth. Myth flows. Lies accrue.
I pass: new red rose... on to You.
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Cover Image, with permission
by 
A group of teenagers in a field. With roses to impress their girls. True Story... I like the language and the imagery. Each line must be considered to grasp it entirely and then with the ones around it. The rhyming is heavy and harsh. It is incredibly internal and restrictive.
Updated
09/17/2013
-- Original Poem:
Sitting in a field: Peer Pressure.
Splitting skin to yield: Fear Pleasure.
New grass swords slice the toes/knees.
“You, Pass me the white rose, please?”
Slip into my hand with ease.
“Grip sin so we stand the bees.
Sips gin to free bland, the sleaze.”
Snippin’ Two stalks for- The breeze
of blood ends talks of fake squeeze.
“One, we say the bust of veins.
None betray the trust of pains.
Gone the gray with rusted chains.
Dawn the day with misted stains,
Across the sky with listed lanes.
We gloss the pay with ruptured mains,
Sewage pipes spray for flattered danes.”
New Age wipes away the scars,
Rib Cage rests today like bars,
Rip rage bests the way blow far
a page wrests its way from gars,
A stage drains a wall for stars.
As blood rains a fall, it’s ours...
Why Blast Who Said Knows? ...what to do?
I Pass: New Red Rose... on to You.
(I changed some things. I ended up correcting that it was 2, 7, 7, 6, 2. Other mistakes I corrected: you can see Danes (people from denmark) are only 'dames' half of the time. Sigh. I was a dumbhead.)
Cover Image, with permission
by A group of teenagers in a field. With roses to impress their girls. True Story... I like the language and the imagery. Each line must be considered to grasp it entirely and then with the ones around it. The rhyming is heavy and harsh. It is incredibly internal and restrictive.
Updated
09/17/2013
-- Original Poem:
Sitting in a field: Peer Pressure.
Splitting skin to yield: Fear Pleasure.
New grass swords slice the toes/knees.
“You, Pass me the white rose, please?”
Slip into my hand with ease.
“Grip sin so we stand the bees.
Sips gin to free bland, the sleaze.”
Snippin’ Two stalks for- The breeze
of blood ends talks of fake squeeze.
“One, we say the bust of veins.
None betray the trust of pains.
Gone the gray with rusted chains.
Dawn the day with misted stains,
Across the sky with listed lanes.
We gloss the pay with ruptured mains,
Sewage pipes spray for flattered danes.”
New Age wipes away the scars,
Rib Cage rests today like bars,
Rip rage bests the way blow far
a page wrests its way from gars,
A stage drains a wall for stars.
As blood rains a fall, it’s ours...
Why Blast Who Said Knows? ...what to do?
I Pass: New Red Rose... on to You.
(I changed some things. I ended up correcting that it was 2, 7, 7, 6, 2. Other mistakes I corrected: you can see Danes (people from denmark) are only 'dames' half of the time. Sigh. I was a dumbhead.)
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Comments20
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Another beautiful one. Love it and favorited.