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Literature Text
He's lonely, just another dreamer-boy with his head in the clouds.
For a boy who would never be loved, he had so much love in him.
She runs her tongue along her teeth. Are you afraid of dragons? she asks.
I imagine her with scales and wings, breathing fire. I tell her no, I'm a knight in shining armour.
Oh, she says with mock seriousness, you're fearless then.
I'm afraid, I say softly, I'm afraid of falling.
She leans in close. I feel her breath on my lips as she whispers, What about falling in love?
I forget how to breathe. The world starts to spin and I close my eyes.
Then she kisses me full on the mouth and my spine turns to feathers. I feel hollow, weak, like I just might blow away in the wind with this fairytale reaching across my tongue. I feel her lips against mine; my heart starts to beat too fast and I feel a tingling sensation across my chest. I think my lungs are going to catch fire.
He likes to run the broken sidewalk and sing love songs to the moon. He doesn't need to sleep because he dreams with his eyes wide open.
I try to tell him that I'm not perfect.
Imperfection, he says, is subjective. Like, my eyes are too dark and my hands are too small. I'm not perfect either.
I put a hand on his shoulder. Take a breath. I shouldn't have kissed you, I say.
He looks at my hand, then back at me. You should watch the moonrise tonight, he replies.
Then he walks away and I can't figure out how I feel inside. I watch him go and I feel a sense of loss: if I let him go, maybe he'll fly away deep into the sky and never come back. I want to call after him, I want to hold him tight and tell him that I never wanted to break him like this. He's so damn fragile.
He lies awake at night, too sad to sing to the moon. He gives her a rare little smile that says, I'm here, look at me.
She looks into my eyes and asks me why I've missed school for the last week.
I look away, trying to breathe normally. Trying not to let her see the truth.
Have you ever, I ask, have you ever wanted to ask the wind what it's like to be free?
She puts an arm around my shoulders. Her hand is warm. I've wanted to ask you, she says.
I look at her and feel the warmth of her hand begin to spread across my body.
I missed you, she says.
Suddenly my eyes are crying, and then the rest of me is, too.
For a boy who would never be loved, he had so much love in him.
She runs her tongue along her teeth. Are you afraid of dragons? she asks.
I imagine her with scales and wings, breathing fire. I tell her no, I'm a knight in shining armour.
Oh, she says with mock seriousness, you're fearless then.
I'm afraid, I say softly, I'm afraid of falling.
She leans in close. I feel her breath on my lips as she whispers, What about falling in love?
I forget how to breathe. The world starts to spin and I close my eyes.
Then she kisses me full on the mouth and my spine turns to feathers. I feel hollow, weak, like I just might blow away in the wind with this fairytale reaching across my tongue. I feel her lips against mine; my heart starts to beat too fast and I feel a tingling sensation across my chest. I think my lungs are going to catch fire.
He likes to run the broken sidewalk and sing love songs to the moon. He doesn't need to sleep because he dreams with his eyes wide open.
I try to tell him that I'm not perfect.
Imperfection, he says, is subjective. Like, my eyes are too dark and my hands are too small. I'm not perfect either.
I put a hand on his shoulder. Take a breath. I shouldn't have kissed you, I say.
He looks at my hand, then back at me. You should watch the moonrise tonight, he replies.
Then he walks away and I can't figure out how I feel inside. I watch him go and I feel a sense of loss: if I let him go, maybe he'll fly away deep into the sky and never come back. I want to call after him, I want to hold him tight and tell him that I never wanted to break him like this. He's so damn fragile.
He lies awake at night, too sad to sing to the moon. He gives her a rare little smile that says, I'm here, look at me.
She looks into my eyes and asks me why I've missed school for the last week.
I look away, trying to breathe normally. Trying not to let her see the truth.
Have you ever, I ask, have you ever wanted to ask the wind what it's like to be free?
She puts an arm around my shoulders. Her hand is warm. I've wanted to ask you, she says.
I look at her and feel the warmth of her hand begin to spread across my body.
I missed you, she says.
Suddenly my eyes are crying, and then the rest of me is, too.
Literature
nine reasons why you should
nine reasons why you should never love a poet:
one.
we like to hear things like 'you're beautiful' and
'i'd die without you' but deep inside we always know
you don't mean it.
and it just tears us apart slowly, no matter how much
we love those poisonous lies.
two.
and when you ask 'are you okay?', we're going to
answer with 'i'm fine'. and you'll hear that
even if our bones are shattering inside of us and
our hands are trembling from all the hurt that we go through.
three.
because we play our music too-loud-to-bear so that,
when we're all alone,
it chases away the thoughts that come with the silence:
things that haun
Literature
leavetaking
i.
the world is brighter where
dregs of strangers' revels remain --
i keep this half-light for my own.
ii.
i'll stay until the wind sighs a scotch-and-smoke
cliché, til the Muscadet's slipped from the lip
of my wayward
hello.(i know you're there before you do.)
iii.
your night is told in
patchouli-pulse wanders; mine,
in whorls of liqueur-breath. come
close and i'll find the warp
through the weft, the trails telling tales
in synaesthesia --
Platinum Blonde's been 'round and gone.
iv.
(-- closer, find syllables strewn
in an exhale's wake; stolen from my throat-
ful of careless farewells, spin and sway
Literature
the man on the moon.
tonight
the sky is overcast, and it tells me
That if I want to make my stupid wishes,
I'd better come back at a better time.
tonight
the clouds are being overprotective
And covering the moon with their hair so
Us humans cannot see her cry.
tonight
there is no wind to blow our
American flags, and if I close my eyes,
I think I could imagine myself there.
tonight
I think I can see his steps treading
On the face of the man in the moon,
The steps that will stay longer than the man did.
tonight
I flip through the pages of my history book,
And watch the night out of my window
As I read the same name over and over again,
"this is
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Inspiration
No significant inspiration for this except a starved imagination and a couple of late nights sitting on the water's edge, looking at the moon.
D'you know, I can never remember my dreams.
Just thought it was worth saying.
Technique
Seatbelts, everyone! (Please let this be a normal field trip... with the Friz? NO WAY.*)
Okay, ready?
I wrote this by all myself.
How ridiculous is that? I am posting a deviation that hasn't been critiqued/edited by anyone else in the world.
All right, that might not sound all that impressive. But for me, it's incredible – because it's been a helluva long time since I've had the ability to completely imagine something and get it down into words. And since I've had the confidence to post something without someone telling me that no, it's not worthless.
Before you go, take a look at my post on Tumblr.
*My favourite lyric to that song is 'you might get baked into a pie'. Again, thought it was worth saying. :] (And if you don't know what I'm talking about, shame on you.)
Groups
For #theWrittenRevolution members: What did you think of my switching perspectives in the second section? I want to hear your opinion on the italicized parts too – what did you think of them? Did they seem relevant? This hasn't been critiqued at all, so if you have any other suggestions about imagery/characters/clichés I'd be happy to receive them.
Other Deviations
Like an Unfinished Love Poem
Shiver and Cry
This was featured in =Quolia's Spreading the dA Love: Volume 8.
© 2011 Jonathon Reed
deviantART | Society6 | Tumblr
portfolio.jonathonreed.com
No significant inspiration for this except a starved imagination and a couple of late nights sitting on the water's edge, looking at the moon.
D'you know, I can never remember my dreams.
Just thought it was worth saying.
Technique
Seatbelts, everyone! (Please let this be a normal field trip... with the Friz? NO WAY.*)
Okay, ready?
I wrote this by all myself.
How ridiculous is that? I am posting a deviation that hasn't been critiqued/edited by anyone else in the world.
All right, that might not sound all that impressive. But for me, it's incredible – because it's been a helluva long time since I've had the ability to completely imagine something and get it down into words. And since I've had the confidence to post something without someone telling me that no, it's not worthless.
Before you go, take a look at my post on Tumblr.
*My favourite lyric to that song is 'you might get baked into a pie'. Again, thought it was worth saying. :] (And if you don't know what I'm talking about, shame on you.)
Groups
For #theWrittenRevolution members: What did you think of my switching perspectives in the second section? I want to hear your opinion on the italicized parts too – what did you think of them? Did they seem relevant? This hasn't been critiqued at all, so if you have any other suggestions about imagery/characters/clichés I'd be happy to receive them.
Other Deviations
Like an Unfinished Love Poem
Shiver and Cry
This was featured in =Quolia's Spreading the dA Love: Volume 8.
© 2011 Jonathon Reed
deviantART | Society6 | Tumblr
portfolio.jonathonreed.com
Comments61
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Technique
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Because you said no one has critiqued this beforehand, and because I'm kind of on a critique kick right now, I'll give it a go. (:
I can't point out exact lines that I love the most, because they're pretty much all beautiful.
Some of my favorites, though:
<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="10" height="10" alt="" title="Bullet; Green"/> The world starts to spin and I close my eyes. I think everyone has felt/has wanted to feel this at some point.
<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="10" height="10" alt="" title="Bullet; Green"/> The whole third paragraph is breathtaking.
<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="10" height="10" alt="" title="Bullet; Green"/> He looks at my hand, then back at me. You should watch the moonrise tonight, he replies. Lovely, lovely, lovely.
<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="10" height="10" alt="" title="Bullet; Green"/> He gives her a rare little smile that says, I'm here, look at me. Shivers.
<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="10" height="10" alt="" title="Bullet; Green"/> I love the moon either way, so points to you. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/h/h…" width="45" height="20" alt="" title="High-five!"/>
Mes suggestions pour toi:
<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="10" height="10" alt="" title="Bullet; Blue"/> The first two lines are quite pretty, but I feel like you've used similar words/sentiments before. I mean, it works in the piece itself, but perhaps there's a different way of saying it. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="19" height="19" alt="" title="Shrug"/> Although maybe it's just a product of having read every one of your writings at least, oh, I don't know, twelve times or so. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/g/g…" width="17" height="15" alt="" title="Giggle"/>
<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="10" height="10" alt="" title="Bullet; Blue"/> Nitpicking, but I feel like I imagine her with scales and wings, breathing fire. I tell her no, I'm a knight in shining armour. would look/flow better split up into two different lines. Like: I imagine her with scales and wings, breathing fire./I tell her no, I'm a knight in shining armour.
<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="10" height="10" alt="" title="Bullet; Blue"/> He likes to run the broken sidewalk and sing love songs to the moon. This is beautiful, and I do like the imagery of a "broken sidewalk", but I think it could be explained better (the "broken sidewalk" bit, I mean). I don't know, something just didn't sit properly with me. :/ The italicized parts do fit, but I just think this one could be re-worded a bit.
<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="10" height="10" alt="" title="Bullet; Blue"/> I watch him go and I feel a sense of loss and I want to call after him, I want to hold him tight and tell him that I never wanted to break him like this. and I look away, trying to breathe normally. Trying not to let her see the truth. are a bit cliched, I think.
<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="10" height="10" alt="" title="Bullet; Blue"/> I like the characters. They're familiar ones from you, like I mentioned in my first bullet. It's okay - I re-use characters/personalities, too.
<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="10" height="10" alt="" title="Bullet; Blue"/> The very last sentence doesn't really work for me. The last paragraph as a whole, actually, could be much different. Not that it's not good now, but the impact could be so much greater, because your writing has the ability to be so strong. I've caught glimpses of it here and there, and a few times in full force, and when that happens... wow- just wow.
Overall, I think this is an absolutely beautiful piece. If you really love it, let it sit for a little while, then come back to it. And, as always, these are just my opinions, so don't feel as if you have to listen to any of it. But I do hope I was able to help. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/h/h…" width="38" height="15" alt="" title="Hug"/>
And if you didn't know it before, I love you a lot.
<img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/h/h…" width="15" height="13" alt="" title="Heart"/>