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Literature Text
I want to be the consecration of all your hesitation.
I'm not looking to seduce you
or in words to reproduce you
as a shadow of a light that burns so bright.
I'm not heading for a showdown
with my urges, dark and lowdown.
and won't walk away if you want to talk away the night.
There is thunder to lay under
as the light of heaven leavens
all our baggage, for a moment, lost and tossed.
I'm not looking just to use you
or in words to ruse, confuse you,
but know you glow, immolation worth the cost.
I want to be the consecration of all your hesitation.
I want to be the first, the last, the best and more.
I want to be sent reeling off the walls and off the ceiling
and to find my mind defined within your core.
I'm not spitting out excuses for the shadowdancer muses
that seemed bright while I lingered in the night,
barely living but for the sorceries of the dream.
I'm just ready for the static to be more than cinematic,
to reach this nosferatu heart with surging, purging light
that burns away the mocking memories with photic scream.
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.
I'm not looking to seduce you
or in words to reproduce you
as a shadow of a light that burns so bright.
I'm not heading for a showdown
with my urges, dark and lowdown.
and won't walk away if you want to talk away the night.
There is thunder to lay under
as the light of heaven leavens
all our baggage, for a moment, lost and tossed.
I'm not looking just to use you
or in words to ruse, confuse you,
but know you glow, immolation worth the cost.
I want to be the consecration of all your hesitation.
I want to be the first, the last, the best and more.
I want to be sent reeling off the walls and off the ceiling
and to find my mind defined within your core.
I'm not spitting out excuses for the shadowdancer muses
that seemed bright while I lingered in the night,
barely living but for the sorceries of the dream.
I'm just ready for the static to be more than cinematic,
to reach this nosferatu heart with surging, purging light
that burns away the mocking memories with photic scream.
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.
Literature
To my dearest friend -Song idea
Where have you been hurt
Where are all your scars
I'd like to thank the person who helped you get this far
Please give this to your smile
I haven't seen it in a while
"I miss you so much it could become criminal"
Are you locked in a case
Or trapped in a box
Or went nowhere and just got lost
I want to know where you are
To help you if I can
Because lately you've been doing things I can't understand
I don't want to cry
You already are
A cry with tears that will never fall
Who are you now
What happened to who you were
This change was so subtle I feel disturbed
If you don't think you can be helped
If you know you can't get out
Know that I a
Literature
Dear Mother
Dear Mother
I would like to tell you
That you’re the greatest mom in the world.
You tell me
To ignore what other people say.
You tell me
I’m the greatest daughter in the world.
I would like to tell you
You’re the support beam in my life.
So during our next encounter
I’ll make you breakfast in bed
And I’ll clean my room just for you
So that you can relax without worries
Because I love you.
Literature
mother
mother with whistle, button and mace
drops her weapons to the hospital floor
and screams.
father rejoices - a princess! i'll teach her
everything.
mother still screams.
father, laughing - i pity the boy who asks for her hand.
mother holds baby and shrieks.
father's skin crawls - why aren't you happy?
mother screams. mother howls. mother, inconsolable
(everyone dies but girls are always
born dead)
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Still looking for the worthy.
© 2009 - 2024 williamfdevault
Comments20
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I'm touched and inspired by this poem!
definitely doing a photo on this one
definitely doing a photo on this one