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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
June 26, 2014
7am on Blackridge is refreshing, vivid poetry by greenleo94.
Featured by neurotype-on-discord
Literature Text
raindrops crack
the glass of the lake
startling silver
and scarlet fish
gone in a blink
against the sediment
and grasping
lakeweed
the sweep
of my paddle
cleaves ripples
against the
mermaid green
waters
enticing richness
as the restless-dog
wind bites
the heels of the storm
and the sun
shoulders past
the lake
gleamed
like the sky
the glass of the lake
startling silver
and scarlet fish
gone in a blink
against the sediment
and grasping
lakeweed
the sweep
of my paddle
cleaves ripples
against the
mermaid green
waters
enticing richness
as the restless-dog
wind bites
the heels of the storm
and the sun
shoulders past
the lake
gleamed
like the sky
Literature
Summer Love
When I was eight I hated summer
It was juice-box sticky
and every day I scraped myself
off my sheets
and poured my body into a glass.
At twenty-two,
I don't remember peeling my legs
off a wooden chair come June,
but how our hands were damp with nerves
when we held them,
how the AC on the bus was too much
so my scarf became your blanket and
we ate curry with my parents
before I fell asleep on your shoulder.
Or when you told me not to swim too far out
and the ocean was too cold,
how you got sunburned and I bit my tongue
so hard holding back
"I told you so"
that I swear I bled,
your eyes reflecting the fish at the aquarium,
how you teased
Literature
Glass
Josie was digging holes out behind the kitchen when Matt found her. She held up something small and wriggly in greeting. “Look, I found an earthworm!”
Matt crouched down beside the hole and leaned forward, balancing himself with one hand. “Nah, I don't think that's an earthworm, Josie. It looks like some kind of larval beetle.”
“No, it should be -” she broke off and her face fell. “Glass says it's a rhinoceros beetle larva.” She dropped the creature and sighed loudly.
“And you're just going to believe it?”
“Well, it's Glass.” She shrugged.
“And what does Glass
Literature
Glacial Affairs
Spring
She rusts the world green,
garlanding her hair
with flowers and sunrise.
At first, they clink
waxy tulip cups and gossip
over the corn tassels' latest
monarch fashions. They pallet hay
into sleepover mattresses and braid rain
through each other's plaited
cattails. But though her palms
toast eggs from hens, her
dream-clear eyes flint ice, and the
green reflecting from manicured lawns
will never match her envy. She
scorches her enemy from memory.
Summer
She strokes sun-kissed knuckles
across reddened scalps, skirt
rustling with fairy fire.
She casts a flippant glance
over her shoulder, ignoring
for as long as she can the
lady in red t
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A simple poem about my newfound love of kayaking. It's so wonderfully peaceful.
(I really would like a little sailboat.)
(I really would like a little sailboat.)
© 2013 - 2024 greenleo94
Comments44
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You write beautifully.