ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Yesterday I was a little girl
with blueberry stains on my fingers.
But today—I am
simply mad,
a Baba Yaga in the woods,
standing tall on knobbly chicken legs,
making stews of children's hearts.
Beware the magic-weavers in the dark.
But I must be a siren, too—
with salt on my lips and flowers in my hair,
but with eyes black, black as crows.
Beware our sing-songs, little one.
Surely I am a cello.
Play me like an instrument—
my body is no longer me.
Strip me down to my bare bones and tell me,
what am I?
I have a face but no substance beneath.
That drumming you hear in my naked ribcage
can only be the sea.
I have no identity.
I am a creature of the air,
rash and whimsy,
distant, intimate—
ancient.
My mind is the green-purple gray
of the nights before stars.
My heart grows cold, my heart grows cold.
Already old, already old.
A mad girl's mind is awful drear,
and I've got fishes in my hair,
yes, I've got fishes in my hair.
Won't you take my hand, Alice dear.
We are nearly there, she says.
Then our eyes change from blue to red.
So hard to hold, so hard to hold.
Already old, already old.
But who is me?
Will I be born as Merlin
and walk my life end to beginning?
I hope my name is River,
for then I could have fishes in my hair
and slowly wend my way to the sea.
I'm nearly who I'm meant to be.
with blueberry stains on my fingers.
But today—I am
simply mad,
a Baba Yaga in the woods,
standing tall on knobbly chicken legs,
making stews of children's hearts.
Beware the magic-weavers in the dark.
But I must be a siren, too—
with salt on my lips and flowers in my hair,
but with eyes black, black as crows.
Beware our sing-songs, little one.
Surely I am a cello.
Play me like an instrument—
my body is no longer me.
Strip me down to my bare bones and tell me,
what am I?
I have a face but no substance beneath.
That drumming you hear in my naked ribcage
can only be the sea.
I have no identity.
I am a creature of the air,
rash and whimsy,
distant, intimate—
ancient.
My mind is the green-purple gray
of the nights before stars.
My heart grows cold, my heart grows cold.
Already old, already old.
A mad girl's mind is awful drear,
and I've got fishes in my hair,
yes, I've got fishes in my hair.
Won't you take my hand, Alice dear.
We are nearly there, she says.
Then our eyes change from blue to red.
So hard to hold, so hard to hold.
Already old, already old.
But who is me?
Will I be born as Merlin
and walk my life end to beginning?
I hope my name is River,
for then I could have fishes in my hair
and slowly wend my way to the sea.
I'm nearly who I'm meant to be.
Gratuity Treasure Chest
Joining this tier, you gain access to a reserved extra content that are carefully crafted just for you.
Your subscription doesn't just support my art; it fuels it, allowing me to dedicate more time and resources to producing even more of the content you love. It's a partnership that propels this project forward.
Join me in this exclusive tier, and together, let's take this artistic adventure to new heights. Your appreciation fuels my passion.
$2/month
Literature
One-Word Supernova
This "hello" is infinity unraveling,
a star falling,
a sun coming to life.
It's movement.
It's a breath drawn between two surprised lips.
It's staccato,
the quick crackle of a match catching on sandpaper.
Flight has nothing on those
lush syllables -
they soar higher
than the playground of angels
and we cannot help but follow.
Sunstruck,
lightbright,
the word glimmers between us -
clear and iridescent,
a soap bubble caught in the air.
I reach.
You touch.
And -
a star falling,
a sun coming to life -
hope bursts open inside
our slumbering hearts.
"Hello," you said.
The word rests breathlessly
along the curve of my
Literature
attic.
in the days we used umbrellas to block the sunlight instead of the rain and the nights we believed the falling darkness was the secret rabbit hole to wonderland, you were the beautifully dissonant chirps of the hyperventilating crickets beneath us, the hum of hidden stars in the dark and speeding cars on the far-away highway.
you were the pieces of a child's scribbled-upon sky, buried like precious treasure beneath the dirty dollhouses and muddled memories in the arctic-cold attic.
you were hologram hymns and dish towel dreams, hung out to dry on a clothes-pin line in the shuddering, sickened sunshine.
you were forever spilling your hypoma
Literature
Swing Band
Play your trumpets louder, boys -
Let's hear that trombone sound.
You're gettin' paid to make some noise;
The dames are crowdin' 'round.
The chaps have finished sippin' gin
And now it's time to dance.
They want a tune to dip and spin
And kick up some romance.
A young thing needs a break at night
From white barrage balloons,
From broadcasts, blackout drapes, cordite,
Junkers across the moon.
The music's really pickin' up.
The piano's lost a string.
There's no one in a smoky club
But loves a chance to swing.
It's hard to hear the sirens wail -
The saxophone is grand -
For death is sorry, weak and pale
But life's a big swing b
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
EDIT 3: Featured ^^ 5/26/14
EDIT 2: Thank you so much to the wonderful LadyofGaerdon for recommending this piece for a DLD!!!
REALLY need some critique on this
trying something very different this time
however, *I* like it
EDIT: I think I like it for the most part as it is, however, I am always open to further critiques and comments!
was going for a sort of "controlled chaos." does it work?
i mean...yeah
Critique questions:
1. i've attempted to weave back and forth with the rhymes. does it work? i feel as though there are some places where it doesn't transition between rhyming and not-rhyming as well as it should. thoughts?
2. How does the imagery work? too spastic? does it flow well enough?
3. Further thoughts?
My critique of the delightful 's "On Ariadne": comments.deviantart.com/1/1945…
PS. LOOKING FOR TRANSEXUAL/TRANSGENDER PSYCHIATRIST/PSYCHOLOGY MAJOR WHO'S WILLING TO LISTEN though I suppose just a regular transexual/transgender person would work as well, haha
EDIT 2: Thank you so much to the wonderful LadyofGaerdon for recommending this piece for a DLD!!!
REALLY need some critique on this
trying something very different this time
however, *I* like it
EDIT: I think I like it for the most part as it is, however, I am always open to further critiques and comments!
was going for a sort of "controlled chaos." does it work?
i mean...yeah
Critique questions:
1. i've attempted to weave back and forth with the rhymes. does it work? i feel as though there are some places where it doesn't transition between rhyming and not-rhyming as well as it should. thoughts?
2. How does the imagery work? too spastic? does it flow well enough?
3. Further thoughts?
My critique of the delightful 's "On Ariadne": comments.deviantart.com/1/1945…
PS. LOOKING FOR TRANSEXUAL/TRANSGENDER PSYCHIATRIST/PSYCHOLOGY MAJOR WHO'S WILLING TO LISTEN though I suppose just a regular transexual/transgender person would work as well, haha
Comments78
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Overall
Vision
Originality
Technique
Impact
This is a wonderful work, and one of the more interesting poems I've read recently. On one hand, the vivid and distinct images with references from various cultures; on the other hand, the rhythm and rhyme (or absence thereof) changing throughout the text, create a brilliant palette of different states of mind and of madness. As some of the commenters remarked, it is similar to a complex piece of music - such as progressive rock - involving intricate patterns and arrangements. It builds up from the beginning, all the stanzas leading up as an introduction to the actual "song" of delirium; and after the song ends, a short outro to dissolve the tension.
I wonder... is it exclusively about delirium? Or it has a more universal meaning, about things all of us experience? I guess there are times in everyone's life when we feel that we are simply mad, or vengeful, or that our body is just a shell from which we are estranged and distanced, trying to find out who we are and who we want to be.
Even from the first stanza, I could see that I'll experience something brilliant. You managed to paint a more evocative image of childhood in a single line that other artists cannot even in a page of text. Here, my only suggestion would be to put "Yesterday" in a separate line, and make the beginning of the second stanza similar in structure, i.e.:
Yesterday -
I was a little girl
with blueberry stains on my fingers.
But today -
I am simply mad,
Of course, this is more of a personal preference; I'm not saying that there is any kind of problem with the present structure.
On to the second stanza... I cannot come round with the "I am simply mad, a Baba Yaga in the woods" metaphor. Many things can be told about Baba Yaga, but not that she was mad. Evil and vengeful - yes, but actually a very wise woman, and sought out by many for her wisdom (not in all stories is she an antagonist). She is actually a spirit of the woods, who protects the forest and its creatures from the evil that humans do, and in time, she started hating men due to the devastation they brought. Also, I wouldn't name her a "magic-weaver", even if she has power over the elements and Nature's forces; maybe a different word would work better in the last line (plus omitting the "the").
I love the third stanza - feminine beauty mixed with danger and implacability. There's much more to this stanza as one would notice at first read - I'll return to this later. At this time, my only suggestion would be to replace "but" with "and" in the first line (or to omit it).
In the next parts, the detachment of mind and body, and not knowing who you are, is depicted masterfully, comparing it to elements, forces, and phenomena of Nature, both whimsy and ancient. Many writers cannot put this into words well and either overdo or underdo the topic, but you do neither, and I congratulate you with dealing so well with it. The "the green-purple gray of the nights before stars" is one of my favourite parts of the poem. Here, perhaps I'd place "I have no identity" right after the "Strip me down" line (or perhaps before it) - in its current location, it is quite redundant; what's more, it also breaks the flow of comparisons to different elements of Nature. Also, I'd change "That drumming" to "The drumming".
And so we get to the "song". First off, I would change the lines in the seventh stanza, i.e.:
Already old, already old,
My heart grows cold, my heart grows cold.
This will not only "embrace" the song in symmetry with the 9th stanza, but also is more effective and poignant in my opinion.
The "song" itself is the central part of the poem, and in reply to your question, yes, the transition between the rhyming and non-rhyming part works well. The rhythm trips me a bit though; the first line is in iambic metre, so I somewhat expected the rest to be in it too, but your rhythm varies (though the iambic foot returns in the last two lines). It would be interesting to have all six lines in the same metre; though the jumbled rhythm can also be identified as a sign of "madness".
In contrast with the third stanza, when the narrator had "flowers in her hair", a sign of feminine beauty, now she has "fishes", which might be a sign of madness? It is to be noted that sirens are essentially "terrestrial" creatures, even if they are connected to the sea (as I've seen, most people confuse them with mermaids - just do a search on "siren" and you'll get a bunch of mermaid images - you know the difference between them though), and I love how you created the contrast between the "terrestrial" images from the beginning, and the "marine" ones which they slowly change into.
I would change "says" to "said", to create a perfect rhyme.
The ending is calm but strong, the juxtaposition of a universal meditation on life with madness, and the final line connecting the two. I find "born" a bit strange, since the poem essentially deals with a living person's current identities - maybe it could be "turn into"?
Thank you if you are still reading this, hope it was not too overwhelming. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="15" height="15" alt="" title=" (Smile)"/> These are only my opinions of course, and I must point out that I have only a basic knowledge of both literature and English language. Overall, a fantastic work that was a pleasure to discover.