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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
October 23, 2006
Mayfly by *xiooua is a short but powerful poem on transience.
Featured by somestrangebirds
Suggested by brennennn
Literature Text
-
When we were mayflies our wings were
worn from wire screens, but the tentative
beats of your belly chimed like iron.
And it occurred to me that through
the breeze of burning leaves our eyes
were open to wasps and weeds.
-
When we were mayflies our wings were
worn from wire screens, but the tentative
beats of your belly chimed like iron.
And it occurred to me that through
the breeze of burning leaves our eyes
were open to wasps and weeds.
-
Literature
Can't you hear it?
Can't you hear it?
You were dead before the day had even begun,
but you never could have known it.
C r a c k
Broken
in seven places, they told me afterwards.
---
There was a stale taste in the air
as we set out,
though at the time I wouldn't have taken any notice of it.
Those fresh leather seats seemed so…
inviting.
We both knew we were well above the limits:
all of them.
Too fast, too high and too intoxicated.
And somewhere along the way,
time stopped.
For a fleeting moment there was sile
Literature
A low slung sun
`
A low slung sun, the tide of winter
retreating with a colourful regalia
of leaf-shaped sailing ships, blown
by a North wind sweeping low, weeping
into newly bare-branch hands.
barely peeking
over my neighbors fence—
the sunrise
The sad sky blues a one-four-five,
deepening into that summerless groove,
jet-streamed smooth & shaped in streaks—
cirrusly in need of an audience, to applaud
that fall-song dirge of slow-death tones.
even the ocea
Literature
three point turn
It's not always about things like slipper slaps
on wilting skin, knees turn supple and give way
as you heave up ribs. you lost a red rubber dingy
in a sea that reminds you of sinks, white skies turn and run
in the opposite direction.
You will not always be this way. A judder from the core
right to the jaw lets out subtle things like sighs
and almost tears. Stumble, bash your head against an SOS sign,
I am on the other side of the helpline with fishbowls
and plasters on three fingers and every inch of my arm.
Five was enough to hand you glasses of water
and a heavy-but-warm telephone connection that runs through my toes
right to a
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Hmm.
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Comments101
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this is quite lovely. there are no strict rhymes, but likewise there is a common denominator in your words as far as assonance goes.