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Blind as a Bat, pt.2 by nullalux Blind as a Bat, pt.2 :iconnullalux:nullalux 0 0 Blind as a Bat by nullalux Blind as a Bat :iconnullalux:nullalux 0 0 Matrushka Star Box with Egg by nullalux Matrushka Star Box with Egg :iconnullalux:nullalux 0 2 Boy Holding Eggs by nullalux Boy Holding Eggs :iconnullalux:nullalux 0 0 Origami Box with Eggs by nullalux Origami Box with Eggs :iconnullalux:nullalux 0 3 The Beaver Box by nullalux The Beaver Box :iconnullalux:nullalux 0 0
Literature
Song of You
Song of You
The helical banner of your hair,
corrugation of your brow, tiny
spines of your eyelashes,
prayer of your ear, unpolished
rough of your cheek,
splash of your mouth, blue
pulse beneath your jaw,
vault of your shoulder, long
hours of your arm-joints,
scallops of your fingertips,
casket of your chest, knick-knack
rhyme of your ribs,
pearls of your vertebrae, halfway
hunter beneath your belly,
hermitage of your inner hip, heavy
coin of your kneecap, old
fisherman of your ankle tendon,
deleterious stamp of your sole,
the capers of your toes,
brine-soaked and spread:
this is the terrain,
without sight or map, I tread.
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Literature
Severance
Severance
So I choreograph this fracture.
I plot distances, measure
hours, perforate the air
between our bodies. A sticky
ache, opposite of growing
pains, rests in all
my cells. The cast-off
shoe with red laces greets
me like a dead friend.
The year's bones
unknit in defeat.
A false break, to be sure--
time cannot be named
into clever parcels, lined up,
memorized. No,
we build it the way we do
every thing else: fences,
closed doors, lines
between parking spaces.
Never mind.
Next year, I will turn
dialogue into monologue,
mind my own bones,
fold up like a telescope
with the smallest ring
in the center.
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Literature
Mors Infelix
Mors Infelix
Yesterday, I stroked
your ear, funny nub, then
asked for death. And in this
sad place where apes make
such choices, we received it
wrapped up, itemized, billed.
All we have is the time that overlaps
one another, a decade's brevity.
Today, I must know the difference
between this space, when you are not,
and then, when you were
more than this shopping-list of skin.
Is it respiration,
traveling blood, eye
reflexes, dusk
rations, knowing
that you slept
under the same nail-holes
in tin sky?
No. Absence
has no obedient name.
Tonight, I launder the towels;
I am heavy, daily, present.
You do nothing. You
are nowhere, not
in that crust, odd body—
it is slack, unvaried,
blank as the inexorable hours
between two and six AM.
You are used up, but I
am still here,
memory,
earth-bound,
marrow.
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Literature
Mantic Disposition
Mantic Disposition
Nothing in excess.
~inscription on the Oracle at Delphi
Divination is simple: connect tail
ends of time to shape belly
out of spine. Hang
your unbolted corpse
above this rocky womb
and breathe
     breathe
          breathe
atomic beads of lung-bane
into paired leather bellows.
Close those skin curtains,
open your cryptic mouth
and push
     push
          push
through sacral contractions
and pin-point dilation.
When Vessel is depleted,
discard afterbirth. Although
your peregrine omen
is no consolation, this cost
remains a soft sacrifice.
Prophecy marches
with cephalocaudal insistence
between sweat and truth. Give
and groan
     groan
          groan
into this nulliparous birth
under the hundred wet eyes
of Argus, and m
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Literature
Flight 1734
Flight 1734
He outlines each bead of his rosary; I
bind lyrics to my temples
with soft wire. Two
means of reconciling Gravity
with this place above earth.
Eyes quiet, our lips trace
ritual words. My novenas, however,
are mortal: Costello, Smith, Cohen.
Neither method prevents the tart protest
of our hearing-organs, little swabbed
cups, to the gush and gulp
of aeroembolism.
But I am not one to complain
of wasted rites. Each day,
ancient manuscripts monitor
my digestion. Each night,
a golum tends my tenebrious
places. Each week, I cover
head and eyes, set flame
to oily twine, refrain
from both creation and its opposite
until next darkening of the sun.
Every sharp-framed doorway
offers a shin for my lips, but I
do not feel chosen.
Upon landing, the austere
Chinese man pockets his god-beads
and takes my hand for a full five minutes
as passengers with tougher skins
struggle past seeking asphalt.
I cannot understand his cracked words
but share the same gratitude
for feel
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Literature
Collection 5-7-5
Collection 5-7-5
Pinned to the secret
electric folds of my chest
hammer, I hold names.
Shawn:
baseball field dust caked
blood connect tool against cheek
new noontime tumble
Celeste:
spin-the-bottle birth
we shift to lick each one wound
powder skin bird bones
Martin:
breathe clove smoke black bulb
past car window globe revolves
solid now no remains
Blake:
triptych of heart-threads
humanity redeemed as
future infants squall
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Literature
Anomie
Anomie
My air comes sharp
like pinpricks, lungs
plucked tight
and thin. Where
you smile, you create
vacuums of air; no particles,
no sunlight. Here,
I am inside
out and must
breathe solid things.
With click of stones
meeting, our foreheads
touch and push
lucent skin There.
I put my mouth on yours and find
that I am breathing again.
The quiescent light
spoons just
around us. Dust
motes circle like cicadas
and come to rest.
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Literature
Angiosse
Angiosse
Not to be born surpasses all philosophy.
~Sokrates
26 letters are not enough
to wipe aside the membrane,
the immutable biology
that clouds my throat.
Teeth last longest,
surpassing even bone
in geologic time.
Sometimes,
all we have left
is this pattern
of eruption and wear:
an enameled doxology
of almost-human
appetites
and measurements.
Specimen A,
a mandible of loss;
Specimen B,
a mute malocclusion;
Specimen C,
milk-teeth and memory.
Will they find,
embedded in my molars,
your name spelled out
in rounded cusps,
unearthed, like Taung Child
with boar bristle and precision?
No.
All I can leave you
are my instantiated words
and two dumb parabolas
to testify
for my flesh.
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Literature
The Hunger-Prayer
The Hunger-Prayer
I am a blue-stocking,
docta puella,
as memory stutters over the book in my hand—
To whom did you belong, unlovely
pages, when (eighty-seven-thousand-six-hundred odd
hours ago) his belongings leaked into mine?
I am a spell-swallower,
vox noctis,
as I chew your betel-nut eyes—
What did you see, little mud
pebbles, when amphibian limbs were bound,
like the fire-bringer, with punctured adamantium?
I am a mallow-gatherer,
anastatica lepidophylla,
as your southerly hands unfurl my fronds—
Why is your charm, slow
jeremiad, more powerful than mine?
I am bent upon this thing.
Let the crickets come to rest. Seven
and twenty round years ago, my body
considered its blood and was born.
Let the malm lie uncultivated. Without
seed and fertile castings, organs have
neither potency nor will.
Let the meat sit by itself. Place
your head at my thighs and pray
to know hunger.
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Literature
Nulla Lux
Nulla Lux
Nulla lux est ingrata.
~Martial
When real live death flickers
its rigid face, we mutter
our dirty hymns to each
other and press our fat cheeks
in unison.
The bodies are not unnerved. They
malinger, stiffening and settling,
soul folding up like an origami box.
We seek closure, but the dead have
already closed
up shop. There will be no
welcome light
tonight.
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Activity


deviantID

nullalux
Emily
United States
Current Residence: Bay Area, California
Favourite genre of music: indie, old-school gothic.industrial
Operating System: Max OS X
MP3 player of choice: iPod
Personal Quote: Chalepa ta kala [Noble things are harsh].
Interests
I have a LiveJournal at: www.livejournal.com/users/chal…. Go see.

Comments


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:iconcaffeinatedben:
caffeinatedben Featured By Owner Apr 10, 2006
Thanks so much for the :+fav: of Buffy Summers!

I very much appreciate it! :)
Reply
:iconadiantum:
Adiantum Featured By Owner Jun 16, 2006   Photographer
thanks for adding me to your watch.
Reply
:icondutchshun:
dutchshun Featured By Owner Dec 28, 2005
Welcome to DA !!

Not just yet but when
soon .......
A happy New Year ~
Reply
:icondeadcountess:
DeadCountess Featured By Owner Nov 30, 2005  Professional Photographer
Welcome to DeviantART :glomp: !

Hope you will enjoy your time here :heart:
Reply