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Acta Diurna VIIMorning, stilled in a grey photo.
I am a mineral speck in slate mountains flanked by the salmon halo of Lady Gaia.
I left and pondered all the pictures I could capture.
Camera remained on the dresser.
Why do we share photographs?
Memory mustn't be pleasing seemingly.
Humans share photographs likely to convey messages of emotion,
or to detail without word.
Some share only to express their ability to steal the moment like a firefly in a jar
when the flash is on.
And some want for others to know where they were.
“Glory to the setting of man.”
Indeed, glory to the setting of man.
Acta Diurna IIIHanded out paper today.
“Should thee accept, smile.”
Should incite curiosity and sense of appreciation, no matter how subliminal.
Grey to be closely achieved.
May also flatten soul soda, leading to self-equilibrium of the mind.
...should not eat anymore root beer candies.
Acta Diurna IIConsuming root beer hard candy after lacrosse game,
A&W's effort to make sudsy my flattened demeanor.
Found fly in my locker, dead.
I wondered what killed him.
WonderIf by “wonder” you allude
to the hotel corridor
(on the ninth floor, I’m certain),
I call it
Sure, these auburn light fixtures
shone much more than the
portraits of the nude
giving carpets glorious view.
No cigar scent, perfume incense
intruding on effervescent
sugar packets pouring Kit-Kat
coffee in the morning,
could reunite my “wonder”
at my love’s lost and
Ancestors EnduringGenocide to earth has laid
a memory forgotten, made
a bone in daughter, under mother,
who wonders where of great grandfather.
Narrow, marrow paths and careless water bodies:
It is and is it not the Turkish oddity;
do they love their children? Obviously.
“Oddly”, said Assyrians, the Pontic Greeks and Armenians.
Red run do the veins of Euxine soil,
box-cars to toil, and the marching lane
(A rusty coil).
A cough only in asthma.
Has genocide, an ethicality declined?
Mainly mentioned: the victimized in line.
Tarry to be trudging the Armenians, they do,
and vivid in detail do they agree:
the human model, thin, emaciated skeletal
scene is obscene
And in our own day, real memory.
Who After AllIstanbul is an empire;
animated pyre by they austere Turks made
the menial Armenia.
“Heraldic harmony” be hailed
as asceticism inverted,
virgin is curtailed her court.
And Seljuks laugh.
Where municipal convent is an invitation
to tame a docile lion,
Armenia speaks to the deaf whip;
the instructor no different.
The k'anon courses tremble in tremolo.
Twist rivers their necks
drowning in a sorrow deluge.
Wheat is cursed its color
and by marching hovers
Turkish mother folds the facet;
“Remember”, daughters listen,
Hair that tacit curls, and glistens.
Back to YouTo walk home from the park,
Donna Jess approached a hot dog vendor.
"Six o'clock, I'll be back!"
Till then Donna Jess was slender.
Jupiter the StormWho on orca whales
A beige underbelly becomes laid?
The dorsal swirls west
Where, slain, kamikaze rain pilots:
East under command of moon dust beckons.
Midnight pods cater craters
(a ruffled blanket waved even & repeated).
Who is the author of these furies, oceans’ escutcheons’ worry?
Jupiter the Storm.
Icicle EyesDecember girl:
the snowflakes glittering
in your wind-blown hair
to the icicles
in your eyes.
6:30 ante meridiemI open my mouth to suck in a breath
The morning’s frost kisses my teeth
And I shiver.
CuriosityMy name is Curiosity.
And I didn't kill your cat.
Stupidity led the angel towards me, where he had set a trap.
So much crimson had stained my hands because of their work.
By "they" I mean Stupidity and Nerve of course
They take the lives of the innocent.
But the burden always falls upon me.
"Curiosity killed the cat" they say.
But how could I, don't you see?
My only weapon is wonder.
But they all still look upon me with hatred, dread, and misery.
As if I had centuries of blood on my hands.
When I never could
IciclesWarm, soft air,
Breath as a ghost on the breeze
condensing into a fine mist,
Dancing bitter pirouettes
and whispering silken omens,
as petals in the snow.
Cold, hard earth,
Crunching miniature cities
with a single, gentle footfall,
Loping, silent, singing
liquid silver racing,
Urgent, fateful missions
as glacial rivers flow.
Delicate, crystal bells,
Delightful, intricate daggers
deceiving battered flesh,
Garnished, bruised, marked
fantastic rainbow shades,
Radiating fractures leak
as veins of shattered pearl.
Harsh, rasping nails,
Driving blizzards shrieking
blue, murderous claws,
Acute fangs clenching
against blasphemous vows,
Fall to the depths
of ostracised perdition.
Take Me to the EarthTake me to the earth,
Where ancient gnomes
And sweet russet nuts
In sturdy stone hearths
Whilst they swap tales
Of olden forest mothers
Giving birth to bears
And hares in the places
Where the tree spirits
Ensnare colorful flowers
And use their powers
To call down the rain
To empower the soil
Making it rich and loamy
To nourish deep roots
And blades of grass
That surround magical
Waters that display
Reflections like glass
Allow me to gather
The squirrels and
The bees and the
Birds that dwell
Within the trees
To drink from these
Crystal clear and opaque
Pools whilst humor-filled
Fairies dance like fools
Until my stomach
Swells with a healthy girth
Oh ye elder gods,
Take me to the earth...
winterIt is 21 degrees Fahrenheit outside
and the air shudders in its icy grip:
pine needles frosted in fairy dust
and breath lost in the elegance of silver spiderwebs.
Ice, white and black, coats sidewalks,
sliding dogs' paws out from under their owners
and disappointing children in its solidity;
ponds drip like spoiled milk onto the pelts
of voles burrowed in their homes for the winter.
Harrowed birds flutter and squabble
over the remainder of seeds lost
under a bench by the rats' nest.
They wheel and peck above summer-flung stones
hurled on a day when a different kind of pond froze.
Hiding The PainOnce held safely by her lies
Then torn apart by the truth;
One who was so angelic
Now a demon in front of you.
It all seems so new and horrid
A fresh scar in your mind;
But you're here in his embrace
Safe from that who harms.
Hatred does not fill your heart
It is filled with sorrow and grief.
All the pain is eased though
By the love you both share.
Though the memory will never leave
Always there before your eyes.
A veil hides your nightmare,
So you may enjoy the moment at hand.
DreiadesTo lash fuchsia
Is, to Future, stain a floral bed,
Whereby a billion butterflies
Embellished in a belle of white
Lay weary heads!
She's awoken with a morning
Tucked under a bang
All rise the hanging grapevines
And fruit veins
So compelling her to sing.
"A nymph of forest
Forfeiting her needles
Such am I,
Pining for a fire to keep me
Oh so warm.
If the cool is wavered
And I heed what fire warned,
I shall sleep on with the seasons
Until butterflies are adorned
With their own beds."
Our DutyWe swallowed the path home
Because we were hungry,
Though starving is an ongoing
Story, an empty bag
Dancing in the streets,
Full of an unfastened voice
Walking through the house,
Wind unchained, heart admonished.
Heaven fills its eyes, crawls away,
That sleeping boat content to follow
The vacant waves, intervals
Of dying that we dare not interrupt,
And we watch the kind ear shrinking
From our charcoal docks; heaven
With a full stomach crawls away.
This is what we were put here for.
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More