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Literature
They say the one who prays
They say the one who prays receives much more
than whom we pray for, shaping what we want
to what we get. We find a way to pour
the outcomes into candle molds we can't
have fashioned for ourselves. But then we light
the wax and sniff the scent and call us blessed
by blessings in disguise. For what is right
in contexts so complex we cannot test?
For those who say that praying contradicts
free will or undercuts the will to change
injustice, fine. You have no wax, no wicks,
no blessing and no curse, you are the sage.
I pray to sculpt the candle and the mold
and scent with pity earth and heaven's hold.
Literature
To depression, for creating days without end
Wake up to the realization that you've been awake
for seconds, minutes, hours.
You've been awake in this warm, dark room
and you don't know how long it's been
but now you're conscious
and it starts again--
the pain, strong and steady, in your chest.
You gain consciousness in this too warm morning
and your thoughts whir in endless loops
because it's either that or face the weight in your chest.
Light breaks though the window, soft and unwelcome
but you take it as a reluctant gift--
a new distraction from the feelings awake in your chest.
Awake, but not conscious.
So you think yourself in circles a little while longer
waiting for those qui
Literature
defeathered
and this is where we bury our hearts,
between self-defeating personality disorders
and burnt bridges and midnight ramblings
we promise ourselves aren’t true;
embedding our memories in forsaken homes
like it is a conscious decision to shed
our wings (reptiles don’t fly)
and maybe I am the monster of every
myth: wide-eyed and jagged toothed and
looking to regain a piece of myself the
world borrowed, many moons ago
as I falter and stumble over my own unaware
feet, wreaking havoc, reeking of self-acquittal--
all I ever wanted to do was belong.
dreams are flaws much like the hearts we
flaunt on our sleeves, and I seem to
have len
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→ comments welcome; critique not desired at this time
From the author's 2014 collection Fragments of Eternity.
'Gogyōshi' simply means 'five-line poem'. It stems from Japanese tanka but plays fast and loose with the traditional rules of strict meter. This one was first posted on Twitter and later chosen by renowned haiku and tanka poet Chen-ou Liu for his website, NeverEnding Story, where he published it alongside his own Chinese translation and commentary.
This poem is made available under a Creative Commons BY-NC-SA 4.0 license*. You are free to use the work for non-commercial purposes, including creating derivative works, but you must attribute the author, provide a link back to the original work, and release your work under the same or a similar license. You must also provide a link to the appropriate CC license so others understand these rights.
*Please note that the license is listed as v3.0 in the sidebar. deviantART's interface automatically assigns this version and does not allow for manual changes. While most of my CC-licensed work uses v3.0, this piece is indeed licensed for use under v4.0.
Eight of the twenty-four poems contained in Fragments of Eternity are available to read here at deviantART. The others are:
• Here Comes the Storm
• Night's Eye tanka
• Stanley Park shaped tanka
• Rural Oregon tanka
• Light and Darkness tanka
• Calligraphy gogyōshi
• Fragments of Eternity
For some more pensive minimalism, read The-Funeralopolis's Tanka 2:
For some visual contemplation, take a look at Bluefingers's Forgotten Land:
From the author's 2014 collection Fragments of Eternity.
'Gogyōshi' simply means 'five-line poem'. It stems from Japanese tanka but plays fast and loose with the traditional rules of strict meter. This one was first posted on Twitter and later chosen by renowned haiku and tanka poet Chen-ou Liu for his website, NeverEnding Story, where he published it alongside his own Chinese translation and commentary.
This poem is made available under a Creative Commons BY-NC-SA 4.0 license*. You are free to use the work for non-commercial purposes, including creating derivative works, but you must attribute the author, provide a link back to the original work, and release your work under the same or a similar license. You must also provide a link to the appropriate CC license so others understand these rights.
*Please note that the license is listed as v3.0 in the sidebar. deviantART's interface automatically assigns this version and does not allow for manual changes. While most of my CC-licensed work uses v3.0, this piece is indeed licensed for use under v4.0.
Eight of the twenty-four poems contained in Fragments of Eternity are available to read here at deviantART. The others are:
• Here Comes the Storm
• Night's Eye tanka
• Stanley Park shaped tanka
• Rural Oregon tanka
• Light and Darkness tanka
• Calligraphy gogyōshi
• Fragments of Eternity
For some more pensive minimalism, read The-Funeralopolis's Tanka 2:
Tanka 2stillness fills
my being-
the air
so brittle,
benumbs my lungs
For some visual contemplation, take a look at Bluefingers's Forgotten Land:
Comments13
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Well, I must say - this is one of my favorites! Oh man, it's brilliant. Something that strikes me is the 3-3-2-3-3 syllabic structure. The 3rd line only having 2 syllables makes it seem to bind the two halves together, in turn also emphasizing itself - "no one". Its position in the poem really speaks of a resounding and very certain loneliness. Another way in which I can interpret/relate to it is the frustration of not being able to pin down, exactly, the thought or conception in the mind (I'm sure, though, that you have less trouble than me in bringing true life to your ideas). Forgive me for bringing out the numbers, but the syllable count is very satisfying; it reminds me of the 7 and 5 syllables of Katauta and other Waka forms.
This is wonderful! :3
This is wonderful! :3