Year II - Issue XXX
Friday Night Features is a weekly feature designed to showcase
a cross section of the most striking, entertaining and powerful
literature, photography and artwork on deviantART.
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these amazing pieces. You're bound to find something
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prey.i'm a collection of curves in your cycle:
a single revolution of your rhythm,
my taste a mile marker.
my hunger is satisfied by your rapture,
and devoured by your voracity.
starving to be grasped, claimed,
and consumed, I feed death— give in,
swallow black relief —your belly round
and warm with the scrapings of my bones.
bury my leavings and tell me reincarnation
is a lie.
Copyright © 2013 Jen Fowler
All Rights Reserved
Jellyfish DreamsFlashes of stinging white crackle across satin. If you stared at it for too long, wishing for stars, you would surely be driven mad. Only the omnipresent hum of vehicles grounds me while I am in transit, preventing exactly that.:thumb348431127:
Despite frightening posters of malicious stars, their light bleeding into blood being my earliest memory, I continue to peer out the window and search for the malicious stars. Once there was a time when you could just see them beside the faint halo of street lamps, ornate and cheerfully painted. Sometimes, even a globe would blow and in that little patch the stars would glow brighter.
When I heard that rumour there was no blood but my own. Biting my lip with anticipation, something had dribbled down my chin, and touching it to see what it was, there was red. Advertisements of the Afflicted reeled through my mind. Deranged eyes, wild hair, ashen skin, mouths opened in a perpetual scream. "Their danger to all is as real as the stars." I hyperventilated, th
SilenceA fragile forged framework of phantom sound
And a time no longer being around
Push away the world
Solely the man, eyes closed
Hears the unhearable notes
With his finetuned inner ears
Time swirls around his head
In partitures no one ever had
A colour penetrates
Quiet, warm, Sol
And expectation enhances
The ability of the musician
Exceeding all possibility
Music made of silence
Swirlings of time
A thousand tiny cyclones
The original Dutch text
Een gesponnen net van noten
Sluit de wereld buiten
Een tijd die niet langer bestaat
Onhoorbaar te horen
Voor enkel de oren
Van de man met de ogen dicht
Zijn handen stil
De tijd wervelt om zijn hoofd
En niemand was -is- er deel
Een kleur dringt door
En in verwachting geeft de muzikant
Meer dan hij kan maken
Muziek van de stilte
Werveling van tijd
Duizenden kleine cyclonen
Winter Nightsthe dawn dies quietly--
fall has lost another child,
the trees mourn and
and winter quakes,
the chill is in my bones. my
fingers shake. the fire in my
lungs burns me through
I dream of you,
every night when
I close my eyes it's
like falling into
memories, I always
wake up screaming
I'm sinking lower than all
good intentions and human
discretions because I am
the toxic underbelly,
until provoked (poked up
the side to see if I'm alive)
for twelve months I lived
underneath the end of the world,
counting up prophecies. it feels
empty on the other side
sweet dreams, the night
suffocates like a loyal
The Dating GameMy hands are sweating, my stomach churns
My breathing increases in pace
The insecure feeling returns
I'm in a state that's far from grace
I really shouldn't be so nervous
But I'm running out of time
Why do we do this to ourselves?
Don't think like that, it will be fine
And now I'm standing in the middle of the room
Checking on makeup that we're brainwashed to consume
Remembering those magazines that tell you that your life's a competition
That we're all fighting for someone to fight for
You better watch your back
You're a piece of meat and the dogs want more
It's time to face the fact
That you're a piece of meat and the dogs want more
They're always hungry
They bite the hand that feeds them
So why do you still provide?
My smile is empty, my voice is sad
Although I wear this mask on my face
Trying to find what I once had
From opportunities I embrace
I really shouldn't be so upset
But I'm running out of time,
My love and trust
And now I'm standing in the mi
Bone-danceMy skeleton is night
ever the drifter
in powdered skies and
These red rivers
stir and breathe
for a width and stretch of slumber.
Kisses give soul to
and my bones,
(oh, what dreaming bones):
they dance no more.
UninspiredHurrying distant rainstorms,
To grow the biggest bloom,
Like lovers finally falling feeling fragments all too soon.
Floods of natures tensions,
Can break or make a beat
In rhythm with a different danger doubted in defeat.
Letting go is hardest when the falling is desired,
No choice is left to lose a love left lonely uninspired.
I love youPervading from Venetian catacombs,
The smell of the turmeric stream glides
Down. The wawah troubadour past Moorish arches,
Pronounces and proclaims the angel of the sky:
"Aphrodite, she rises from the smoggy mist!
Her fat belly bloating with life
Beneath titanium grates, in the curry sewer she sleeps."
Do not listen to them, my cadaver queen.
The choking plague of rose perfume,
Or the iron dew on top of flowery eyes…
Some ways we try to hide weary hearts.
Try we do, though always we weep to doom
From hell, the coffin shells yearns for New World ships.
Listen to the jazzy angels howl, how they beseech
Beneath mainstream, I don't care for shit.
Grant our freedom, please. To hell with our facades!
You and I, my Expressionist saviour
Will glide cross grotesque aroma from our souls already dead.
it's hard to imagine
a time when we
were not living
skin to skin.
i like waking up
next to you
because i feel like
i didn't sleep very well
and i'm not sure
what time it is,
on my mind
but the temperature
of your skin, the way
you're always slightly awake,
opening your eyes
when i move
and you settle
around me, pulling
your hands up
to cover me.
when morning comes
so do we.
we are hiding
from the world,
in our meeting.
we are the world.
Greying In my youth I believed that:thumb348742028:
were simple things
mere matters of
I know otherwise
but I still
the quiet innocence of a
Her name was AmyHair the colour of rust and bones that fell apart:thumb347840885:
We’d eat rocky road ice cream bars
You perched on broken handle bars
And I would press down on the brakes
We were scabs and lacerations
Knobbly knees and smoke filled curls
I remember when you stole your father’s gin
And climbed out of your window
Throwing bed sheets tied like cherry knots
You were the one who taught me how to do that, you know
Brass heart palpitations from running down to the river
After stealing apples
From old wrinkled trees with knotted arthritic branches
Your cheeks were dusted with freckles in the summer
And your eyes changed from green to grey
We made crowns out of feathers and painted mud on our palms
Sticks and stones will break our bones
Fortress of broken glass and found objects
You always loved the tiny bird skull the best
The size of a walnut in your pale palm
I remember the vinyl’s we’d play, and the mix tapes we’d make
I’d always colour in the covers in mismatched co
in her chest.
she's got skin
unworthy to write
she tapes those
to her limbs
Revenantthey came like phantoms;
oceanic whispers left me washed out.
those gossamer ghosts that lined
the doorways-- eyes in a constant
state of surprise as they reached for me:
needle fingers pricked, fueling
my addictions. they ached
for my veins, entangled like
the strings of my paper heart
and they stained my skin,
amethyst bruises in the shape
their breaths were the heavy hums
of a forgotten lullaby "one day you
will leave, and you will fade into a
virulent void, like us. you will warm
our icy bones, and we will love you,
like no one else can.
go back to sleep, little girl, we will
come again" with their cerulean
secrets painted on my arms,
they became the empty walls.
I wake up alone, and silence
falls. I only hear the echo of
my hungering heart.
ri will spend my whole life
waiting for someone
who looks at me
the way i looked at you
when you hurt me
and i invited you
back for me;
the only way
i know how
the earth will fall
into itself, and
i will be waiting
who can explain to me
what it feels like
to be in love
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