The Writing Thread

[daniellaaarisen]

.....I was gonna just keep lurking around here for a while and not post, but I absolutely cannot resist this thread. My blog, for anyone who is interested: http://danidennis.blogspot.com

Some recent stuff (no idea why they both end with "hour", but hey...):

_________________________________________________

My Eleventh Hour

I caught my own breath in my hands
and took the time to breathe it back in--
sweet and satisfied, stale and strangled,
spangled with lavender and sour milk
and what it means to be nationless.

Tell me you smell something different.

Tell me I'm bound to what I give
but never to what I am given;
that I can choose when the balloon pops,
when my corpse falls earthbound;
that the rushed and eager touches
I collect under my bed
can be quilted into
a sickening new height of love.

I can't remember who told me
that I wasn't young anymore.
It might've been the stout cashier woman
who proclaimed me a thief when I
slid a Snickers bar into my pocket.
It might've been my Playboy Mommy:
she warned me of the sins in my blood,
of her own obsession
with a woman's power to unveil.
Or maybe God told me on the day
when he made me suddenly
wretchedly
unequivocally alone.

On this ancient earth, I'm rarely glad to seem young--
until I'm tangled in sheets
and limbs I can't get out of,
until the simplest mechanisms of
a beating heart lose their intrigue
in my stoic desperation for blood.

Tell me you smell something different on my breath;
Tell me I can choose to be boundless.

_________________________________________________

Witching Hour

In September, he found his witching hour,
while the rest of the house was asleep
and I was the only one left
to switch out the records for him—

To sing “teenage wasteland” with him,
to top off his rum for him,
to light his cigars.

In September, it was cool outside
but his body stayed warm.
I sat in the cold with him,
rocked in the wind with him,
my eyes following the furious sway
of his body with him.

But he wasn’t furious with me.

Baba o’Riley excited my father.
“Doesn’t this get your blood going, honey?
“Don’t you just need to hit something?”

I watched him dance with it,
the heavyweight bag flying seamlessly
between his fists.
I watched him with frozen veins,
with all the need in the world
to sit still, to never hit anything
like he could.

He took his last swaggered punch
and I jumped to break his fall—
clinging to hands that know
my blood all too well;
haunted by a breath
that once kissed me goodnight.

[daniellaaarisen]

Originally Posted by tilthefirefades

I love writing!!!

Here is a poem I wrote about a year ago:

Summer has left in more ways than one
It has left my soul which now remains cold
And it has left my bones which shiver for none
I feel much too empty to be breathing
And so I must find something to be filled with
I thought it could have been you
So wrong I was
As a fool would be believing that for once
Just once
The leaves would stay the same
And not fall into all familiar shades
As I once hoped
But still they turn
Becoming the same they were last year
As I am
Every year I attempt to not change
And still I do
Every year I hope to not find someone like you
And still I do
Every year I become something I’m not
And still I want to be with you
Like I never had before
Because I’ve always chased defeat
But how else can you expect someone like me
To get a taste of victory?

I really like parts of this. You're an intensely emotional writer, which I LOVE (probably because I write the same way.... ).

[Sleepless-Child]

Witching Hour

In September, he found his witching hour,
while the rest of the house was asleep
and I was the only one left
to switch out the records for him—

To sing “teenage wasteland” with him,
to top off his rum for him,
to light his cigars.

In September, it was cool outside
but his body stayed warm.
I sat in the cold with him,
rocked in the wind with him,
my eyes following the furious sway
of his body with him.

But he wasn’t furious with me.

Baba o’Riley excited my father.
“Doesn’t this get your blood going, honey?
“Don’t you just need to hit something?”

I watched him dance with it,
the heavyweight bag flying seamlessly
between his fists.
I watched him with frozen veins,
with all the need in the world
to sit still, to never hit anything
like he could.

He took his last swaggered punch
and I jumped to break his fall—
clinging to hands that know
my blood all too well;
haunted by a breath
that once kissed me goodnight.

Well...I'm just impressed. (The first one was kind of complicated for me )

[jaycee]

Originally Posted by Sleepless-Child

Well...I'm just impressed. (The first one was kind of complicated for me )

The second one was excellent, but the first... just absolutely fabulous! I'm all envious of her abilities now!

[tilthefirefades]

Originally Posted by daniellaaarisen

I really like parts of this. You're an intensely emotional writer, which I LOVE (probably because I write the same way.... ).

Thank you so much! I was thinking of that while reading your first poem, that we have a similar writing style. I can't wait to read more of yours

[Sleepless-Child]

The second one was excellent, but the first... just absolutely fabulous! I'm all envious of her abilities now!

-_-'. If only I could understand everything in this beautiful English language. Reading English Poetry takes too much of my energy. Come on, Danielle, you're almost French, you could translate it to me

[daniellaaarisen]

Thanks you guys-- you flatter me.

I love this thread, though, and I wish more people would post stuff!

[iamnotafraid]

Originally Posted by daniellaaarisen

Thanks you guys-- you flatter me.

I love this thread, though, and I wish more people would post stuff!

Keep posting your material Daniell.

[daniellaaarisen]

Invisible Blood

I was never fully satisfied, chasing you
on heels that weren’t yet broken,
dodging the defenselessness you allowed me to feel
like it was a bullet soaked in a plague.

But this Achilles found her weakness
when something in her ankles snapped
and she surrendered to the ground
apologetically.
I clung to you in spite of myself,
a tendril clasped for dear life
to the understated softness
I never thought you’d unveil.

You work only by the moonlight,
working only with your hands:
silently, I watch you wrap your fingers
around my limbs
like an irrepressible vine,
attend to my reservations
like they belong to your own blood.

Blood—
an indelible tie of which
we can never be fully conscious;
the endless space we make in our womb
where ends don’t ever have to meet.

I’m on this earth to share the bonds
that warm my aching body,
here in skin and bones to watch
all of these bones break,
absorbing all the life you have to give
so that I may one day
give it back to you.

[iamnotafraid]

Originally Posted by daniellaaarisen

Blind Blood

she surrendered to the ground
apologetically.
I clung to you in spite of myself,
a tendril clasped for dear life
around the stoic woman
who found so much warmth to give
when needed in another’s darkness.
.

Dani, for some reason I thought of Stevie at the end of singing
Rhiannon on the Mirage video when she surrenders to the ground.

[jaycee]

Originally Posted by daniellaaarisen

Blind Blood

I was never fully satisfied, chasing you
on heels that weren’t yet broken,
dodging the defenselessness you allowed me to feel
like it was a bullet soaked in a plague.

But this Achilles found her weakness
when something in her ankles snapped
and she surrendered to the ground
apologetically.
I clung to you in spite of myself,
a tendril clasped for dear life
around the stoic woman
who found so much warmth to give
when needed in another’s darkness.

You work only by the moonlight,
working only with your hands:
silently, I watch you wrap your fingers
around my limbs
like an irrepressible vine,
attend to my reservations
like they belong to your own blood.

Blood—
an indelible tie of which
we can never be fully conscious;
the endless space we make in our womb
where ends don’t ever have to meet.

I’m on this earth to share the bonds
that warm my aching body,
here in skin and bones to watch
all of these bones break,
absorbing all the life you have to give
so that I may one day
give it back to you.

You're just showing off now!
Seriously, though, that was absolutely brilliant! I can hardly wait for the next piece!

[ButterCookie]

To fight or to fly?

Ethereal light breaks the dark canopy
as she glides between the claws of bracken.
Her babe, a rag doll, limp in florals
thorns - chestnut as the horse she left aside the brook-
tearing delicate silk, floral and chiffon.

To fight or to fly?
She flies.

Streamers whip her calves as her feet tear the undergrowth
she glides no more.
Stumbling through tendrils, she clings to her babe,
Both too silent to hear one another’s last fleeting breath.

As they float to the carpeted ground,
Skeletal leaves break their final fall.

[jaycee]

Originally Posted by ButterCookie

To fight or to fly?

Ethereal light breaks the dark canopy
as she glides between the claws of bracken.
Her babe, a rag doll, limp in florals
thorns - chestnut as the horse she left aside the brook-
tearing delicate silk, floral and chiffon.

To fight or to fly?
She flies.

Streamers whip her calves as her feet tear the undergrowth
she glides no more.
Stumbling through tendrils, she clings to her babe,
Both too silent to hear one another’s last fleeting breath.

As they float to the carpeted ground,
Skeletal leaves break their final fall.

Oh how I wish I could write like this... envy is written all over me at the moment...

[daniellaaarisen]

Originally Posted by ButterCookie

To fight or to fly?

Ethereal light breaks the dark canopy
as she glides between the claws of bracken.
Her babe, a rag doll, limp in florals
thorns - chestnut as the horse she left aside the brook-
tearing delicate silk, floral and chiffon.

To fight or to fly?
She flies.

Streamers whip her calves as her feet tear the undergrowth
she glides no more.
Stumbling through tendrils, she clings to her babe,
Both too silent to hear one another’s last fleeting breath.

As they float to the carpeted ground,
Skeletal leaves break their final fall.

Yay tendrils!

I bolded the phrases that I really like.

[daniellaaarisen]

Also, thanks you guys. That was a really hard piece for me to write for emotional reasons and I was worried that it would only make sense to me!