Theme

Display Mature Content

Suppress AI Content

literature

all that i know

Deviation Actions

Zaratops

Published: Feb 15, 2010

1.5K Views

Literature Text

^{let me tell you something.

poetry is all around you and me. it existed from the very beginning. it was here before
music and painting. it floats in the air, and it is the air. you can find it in the tops of trees
caught in spiderwebs, or sleeping on the blades of grass. there is poetry in your lungs and
on your eyelashes and in the crook of your elbow. poetry is the freckles on your eyelids
and the lines and pores on the tops of your hands. it sleeps between your vertebrae and is
the sunlight when you wake up. it is the morning and the day and the dusk and the night.
and it is the sounds in the night. poetry is the way you move and blink and smile and how
you feel when you laugh. poetry is jumping in a lake, just to be in the lake.

this… this is poetry.}

More by Zaratops

Literature

two peaces

we came to live in a cabin out by the lake, where we'd laughed and loved our lives away, in the pine-smelling dusty air. you wrote your poems curled up in light on the sill, you were streaming your long hair out the window like a flag on the shore where the waters say… shhh (we're here to stay) alone in this place- it's alive and so full of dead silence, just hanging in the air by the light of the afternoon. you were lit by the candle glow, endless skin as white as snow. but you are more like a summer rose- unfolding all your secrets to me as you whisper shhh (i am only yours) i remember your tender voice, a lark si

Recommended Literature

Literature

in need of desperate resolving

i want your heartfelt autograph; i have some unfinished business involving compatibility & closure trick question: why does my memory's doppelgänger look like your reflection?

Literature

i'll tell you a secret:

someday this world is going to end and when we die we'll only be left with fragile memories of what could have been.

Literature

You and I,

we're a stunted little paragraph blowing in the wind, full of maybes and we could have beens. We're winter nights dancing through the sky, dreaming of warmth and summer, burntskin sunscreen. We're fruits hanging from a tree, ripe with promise and fearing bitter seeds. We're dripping photographs in darkrooms waiting to become something beautiful. You and I, we're not fancy like fireworks. Sparks are the little lights that dance between us when we smile. Sparks are private things and they shine more prettily when no one else can see them except you and me. So when I write poetry about us, it won't be about mountains and kisses and

Suggested Collections

Poetry

Literature

dear self,

1. tomorrow is not worth waiting for. sure, there will be sunshine (with a slight chance of rain) and sure, some kid will be smiling, and yes, life is still moving on, but it's not like anyone cares. 2. you just want someone to love you, misery and tears and all. maybe you could spend saturdays curled up under the covers, memorizing the patterns of breathing. maybe you could count the seconds but the problem is that there would never be enough, the problem is that there's nothing there to love. 3. no one is listening. 4. i'd write you a letter, but you'd never read it. i'm stuck screaming into my own heart, wonderin

Literature

confessions of lostwithoutyou.

i'm not a liar. but i never told you that you always looked best in black. i liked how your skin would fade to a paler shade of perfection and your perfect teeth would glint a little brighter. and i could pretend for an evening that you were my black and white dream come true. and with you there would be no shades of inbetweens and no grays for us to get lost in. i never told you but it's true.   + i was never able to tell you, but i hate the way you cook your 'specialty' eggs. you always laughed over your shoulder and told me that they are the best food i’ll ever eat, that i was blessed to get the chance to taste them melt

Literature

paint.

i told you that i liked boys who smoked cigarettes, because then i knew that they needed something. i told you that i liked roses without the thorns, because then they wouldnt hurt so much when they got picked. i told you that i liked it when you held my hands because i didnt feel quite so lonely, not quite. i told you that i'd love you 'til the stars exploded and the clouds devoured us- and you said nothing. you said nothing. *** (here's a little history.) in vietnam people hurt other people. people burned themselves- (i wish i was that brave.) they threw chemicals and hid in the ground and laughed when the others cried. its

Poetry

Literature

you.

I'd say you remind me of a flower but to do so would be an injustice when I pick flowers, they die- you've only shown me how to live.

Literature

Je t'aime

There is firewood where my bones should be, and wires in my veins pumping electricity and everytime we talk my heart heats up and I've never felt a flame this warm.

Literature

first kiss

I will be the rolling waves, and you can be the sandy shore I'll kiss with salty lips, and then keep coming back for more

Poetry and Writing

Literature

Closer

too close to see, you are too close to me, an eclipsing gaze, all arms across us, i wouldn't leave, if i could go but you know this - you knew of love once you want to know again, you try to kiss me, as if drawing love out, and breathing love in, die again and again, you'd rather, than death you've almost known, too close for comfort

Literature

Not For Me, For You

not for me to feel - nothing as far as i can see, nothing close to me, my heart is deeper under, the black wells of forget, tears are the only stars i see, why do stars burn to live dreams are mute walls; sky is lost to a vapor moon - i drift, not forever is a veil i will wear to cover me from the absence of myself; i will hide behind the anonymity of trees, for you to feel left behind

Literature

She Dances With Fire

She dances with fire, a dragon in tow. Twirling with flames; graceful and slow She dances tonight, in a city of ash. Her feet leaving footprints, where the sand will splash. Quietly mourning, as time goes by; Where once she beheld a home in her eyes... Yet naught but the barest of bones remain, And so she dances, to soothe the pain.

Featured in Groups

WordsNeverFail

^{what i'm saying is
poetry is in seeing the world for what it is,
and seeing the beauty.
it is an understanding and a curiosity.
until you understand this beauty, you cannot know poetry.

i don't know if you'll understand this, but i learned one day how to write poetry, because i saw it.
here i go being all philosophical.}

Comments27

Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In

BlueFairy-07

Aug 15, 2010

i love this <3

DeviantArt - Homepage

DeviantArt Facebook DeviantArt X DeviantArt Instagram

About Contact Core Membership DeviantArt Protect

Developers Advertise Terms of Service Etiquette

Careers Privacy Policy Copyright Policy Help and FAQ

Watch Team and join our Community Group for the latest updates and activities.

Join Community