50% off for a limited time!

Get Core

Theme

Display Mature Content

Suppress AI Content

Get Help and Send Feedback

literature

Le mirage

Deviation Actions

Shinato-Kawasaki

Published: Jul 13, 2010

559 Views

Literature Text

Constant as a breeze:
An amorphous horizon,
A dainty iris.

More by Shinato-Kawasaki

Literature

New York, New York!

O, New York! Fair city of the fairest Of the fairer sex, who doth kiss the streets With honey-sweet feet; thus with a bee’s zest, These eyes entreat thee for thine urban treats! Buzz, dancing sight! For thither walks my love! Whitherward chance I ‘pon she—a flower Midst rare bloom (tho’ hers be rarer)—O, Jove! Not them, but grant me her! Or her! Or her! O, New York! Share thy wealth of fairness, For suburban bumpkin I am, jealous Of thy five-borough’d embrace’s wideness As hold dost thou all that’s held beauteous! And tho’ pretty she, she, and she may be, With one heart, sad, ‘lone,

Recommended Literature

Literature

Largesse

Imagine spraying the donation box grey, Making it a gravestone and Bow as if to pray; But instead inscribe "He gave generously" On the face of Paternoster square. Remember to strip the cube clean, Don your human skin And bring our carrion Luggage to be picked apart upon arrival. The crows would like us to queue at gate nine, And fill our pockets with cash, Diplomatic immunity works well, so We'll be patient until we crash. The Empire of the Crow is a devious place, So please remember, Sir, to keep Antebellum in mind, we can't maintain this pace.

Literature

Self story

Fell off cliff. Saved by ground.

Literature

Mapleine

there's a lamp post behind those trees and it looks like a forest fire she calls nine one one but by the time the paramedics arrive, it's too late, she's already dead

Suggested Collections

Poetry

Literature

dear self,

1. tomorrow is not worth waiting for. sure, there will be sunshine (with a slight chance of rain) and sure, some kid will be smiling, and yes, life is still moving on, but it's not like anyone cares. 2. you just want someone to love you, misery and tears and all. maybe you could spend saturdays curled up under the covers, memorizing the patterns of breathing. maybe you could count the seconds but the problem is that there would never be enough, the problem is that there's nothing there to love. 3. no one is listening. 4. i'd write you a letter, but you'd never read it. i'm stuck screaming into my own heart, wonderin

Literature

confessions of lostwithoutyou.

i'm not a liar. but i never told you that you always looked best in black. i liked how your skin would fade to a paler shade of perfection and your perfect teeth would glint a little brighter. and i could pretend for an evening that you were my black and white dream come true. and with you there would be no shades of inbetweens and no grays for us to get lost in. i never told you but it's true.   + i was never able to tell you, but i hate the way you cook your 'specialty' eggs. you always laughed over your shoulder and told me that they are the best food i’ll ever eat, that i was blessed to get the chance to taste them melt

Literature

paint.

i told you that i liked boys who smoked cigarettes, because then i knew that they needed something. i told you that i liked roses without the thorns, because then they wouldnt hurt so much when they got picked. i told you that i liked it when you held my hands because i didnt feel quite so lonely, not quite. i told you that i'd love you 'til the stars exploded and the clouds devoured us- and you said nothing. you said nothing. *** (here's a little history.) in vietnam people hurt other people. people burned themselves- (i wish i was that brave.) they threw chemicals and hid in the ground and laughed when the others cried. its

Poetry

Literature

Ich bin

Ich bin, der kommt, ich bin, der geht, ich bin, der immer schon hier war. Ich bin, der wacht, ich bin, der spricht. Ich bin der Hauch vom letzten Jahr. Ich bin die Nacht und bin die Früh. Ich bin der Mond (die Sonne nie). Ich bin das Wort, ich bin das Buch, ich bin, der all die Worte sucht, bin der Fürimmer, bin der Moment und der die Zeit manchmal verpennt. Aber ich bin. Ich bin der, alles, der nirgendwo zu Tod betrübt und liebesfroh. Ich bin, der kommt, ich bin, der geht, ich bin, der immer bei dir war: Ich bin der Wind in deinem Haar.

Literature

A Sudden Flight

Ink-black birds scatter, Writing lines of free verse Across a paper sky.

GhostOfTheEmptyGrave on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/ghostoftheemptygrave/art/Existing-848491101GhostOfTheEmptyGrave

Featured in Groups

More by Shinato-Kawasaki

Shinato-Kawasaki on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/shinato-kawasaki/art/Schicksal-422470718Shinato-Kawasaki

Written: 9 July 2010 - 10 July 2010

This one reminds me a lot of my drawings. Random objects scattered about, yet cohesively, they are much more than random objects. How I have learned time and time again that everything has meaning. Time and time again, I shall be reminding you, reader, of this fact. For Art, like pieces of Art, can never be looked at from just one angle. It is only when you look and study each and every angle that you will be able to understand the Artist. When you can do that, you can understand his works too.