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A HistoryA History
Bring the trees to the hollow,
said the ghost, and the fish
did what they could.
Each carried a seed, stashed
safely in its belly when
they began their journeys
across the world of high
untamed blanket-streams, the
primordial. The first trees
were very much like their fish
mothers and fathers; they had scales,
for one, and were smooth
and leafless with delicate webbing
where there would one day be
branches. Delivered to the original
soil, which lay at the exact point
that was farthest from everything,
they threw down their roots.
They burrowed into the river’s
muddy floor and pulled it upward –
a process that stretched for eons.
Before the totality of the earth
was introduced to the air, it had never
known anything but wet and it gasped
with ease of breath. Soon (approximately
ten million years later), the trees began
to lose their scales, growing cracked
and wise with the assistance of the sun,
a newfound ally, to the astonishment of
the moon, who was still
Passing PerihelionA little girl watches the dust dancing
in the golden glow of a bedside lamp.
It casts a harsh shadow across her face.
How could she have grown tired of the comet,
whose last beams of pale, unfamiliar joy
dissipate over the town in silence?
She loves this time of night for its silence
after days filled with laughter and dancing,
which she has also loved. At last, her joy
cools to contentment. Switching off the lamp,
she waves and says good night to the comet.
Its tail flares where before it showed its face.
With childhood’s uncanny calm on her face,
she immerses herself in the silence,
unaware of the chaos this comet
has brought – small chaos – but still, how dancing
cravings of the mind often cause the lamp
to cast light on perilous paths to joy.
The softness of a bed brings unique joy,
refuge from the routine of face-to-face.
Outside, fireflies leap like sparks from a lamp,
making the night glow gold in its silence,
and her mind quells the last of its dancing
You Don't Need to UnderstandYou Don't Need to Understand, You Only Need to Listen
Some nights, the vacancy of sleep
grows nervous under your weight
and there is a stirring in the void.
It is the sound of a little world lost,
murmuring, begging, crying,
howling in the immediacy of the dark.
Can you remember?
Remember when words smelled like pine cones,
names looked like endless holes in space,
and anger urged the nonsense
from our throats with bombast.
Remember when we built sandcastles
around our voices, lowering the bridges
only for the worthy few, who could navigate
the whirlpools of our words.
Remember when we did things right
and the ovations sent us running to the corners,
folding ourselves over and over like paper,
smaller and smaller, until the praises stopped.
Remember when we dreamed ourselves
into the fields of nothing
and the silence droned on and on
all through the night.
Remember when death was a haze
that made our stomachs sink
in the dry heat of summer,
as unfathomable and inevitable as grow
Keep in Touch!
Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More