| ...and to think: i wasn't even going to post this. |
the fat lady's song
Newest
fm staticthey say that sometimes, when you take your hands off the wheel, you might find yourself exactly where you need to be.fm static
acquainted with this truth, my fingertips flutter,
birthing apprehensive butterflies against cold plastic.
if i let go, will i dance like the whispers of feather tufts, trusting Gravity to guide me Home?
will i delight in abandoning my Compass, shout, "good riddance!" as it collides with the Earth leaving a cross-shaped chasm in its wake?
will i land atop warm waters, a Metronome keeping time for the Tide, spe
by ~shootingstar2428
Favourites
falling timeto all the dreamers and all the thinkers: you are a bunch of fools. tomorrow crashdived into yesterday and the world's going to die soon.falling time
trust me, i was there once, and your mouth is not a good place to have your heart; it's better left out on your long sleeve.
take a pinch of sky from your desk and hold it for a while. then blow it away, all you little dreamers and thinkers.
__
to all you scientists and astronomers, stop playing the stars like a harp. stop harping on and on because there's a new problem --
by ~oneofthose-rachels
like oracles.Her mouth was stuck inlike oracles.
a permanent half-smile and
love to her was a
myth like irrational
numbers, religion, and her mum. She was willful
and in the advanced
class for calculus and trig.
Her name was Joy, but
she hardly felt it;
she would have preferred Amun. She stuck pens in her
hair, sometimes over her ear, though, the last time we saw her,
she was still looking
for courage to stab
her wrist veins dark blue-violet.
Her eyes sunk deep with
the ages gone by (2 6 13) and she
by =choirsoftheheavens
Fave News
- 52 They Wrote Love - TWLOHA Day '09 - Nov 14, 2009
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- 164 Poetry Screams Prompt Contest - Sep 12, 2009
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| the pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become v i s i b l e." -Vladimir Nabokov my name is Savanna. i am a writer turned English teacher. i write... to cope to understand, and/or to create something beautiful. i am here to inspire and to be inspired. any comments/suggestions you have are encouraged. thank you for your support! *thanking me for a fave or a watch is unnecessary. i'd rather you look at my gallery and/or my favorites and pass the love on to someone else. **if you steal my work, i will tell my ninth graders to hunt you down and give them extra credit for it. so, just don't. |
Devious Info
- Current Residence: NY
- Interests: writing. reading. playing piano. going to concerts. teaching. making Jack Bauer references.
- Favourite movie: juno. the notebook. romeo & juliet. tristan & isolde. the sandlot. the butterfly effect.
- Favourite band or musician: 1997. the morning of. the maine. jm. anberlin. dashboard. the format. jmraz. OAR. scene aesthetic.
- Favourite genre of music: depends on my mood (no metal or screamo. ever.)
- Favourite poet or writer: e.e. cummings. john green.
- Personal Quote: "for life's not a paragraph / and death i think is no parenthesis" - e.e. cummings
- Tools of the Trade: pen. paper. macbook. life. a soul that breathes poetry.
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--
I'll be the salt that resides from the water that drains from your eyes;
The sting that burns your open wounds.
-The Receiving End of Sirens
--
The darker the walls;
The brighter the sky outside
--
I really should be studying.
active in:
*DailyLitDeviations ~alphabetspawn *Critique-It
--
No instrument of torture, no weapon
Not any fucking technical horrible machine
Can put the disaster to the next level
Evocation of armageddon...
--
Take a look and enter the "Poetry Screams Prompt Contest" [link]
-----
Poetry Admin for *DailyLitDeviations
Hii
((DC))
--
I Am Canadian
hii back!
--
"words are alive;
cut them and they bleed."
-ralph waldo emerson
Ew
((DC))
--
I Am Canadian
--
it seems only yesterday i used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
if you cut me i would shine.
but now when i fall upon the sidewalks of life,
i skin my knees. i bleed.
-billy collins
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