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Burning ManuscriptsThe pages flickered like gossiping
lips, our heads resting sideways on
talking desks. The woman with her grey
nuclear cloud hairstyle shushed us
and I whispered to you;
'Who does she think we are,
Jews hiding beneath the floorboards?'.
You championed a guilty laugh
the covers of books slamming
up and down in chorus with you
and the librarian shot us dead with
a glare but I was certain that she couldn't
hear us from there.
And we fell silent with our murdered
conversation dripping like torn up
diary entries from our absent fingertips and
I wish I knew what you were thinking
as I watched you in the spaces between
the lines. I wish I could read you like a
childhood book but I think that
maybe you were created to
never be read at all.
The Problem With The Human RaceThe Problem With The Human Race Is That We're All So Afraid Of The Human Touch
I imagine the train is crashing.
Skulls become dangerous objects subsiding down onto limp bodies. Fingers like razor blades leave a stinging reminder of the damage a person can do. The lights went out the moment the carriage span out sideways and we can only view the disaster through the small of pockets of illumination we spark from our mobile telephones. An arm awkwardly jerked here. A fragment of clothing there. Lumps of blood and skin matted hair. Nothing but matter. Frayed elements. A resemblance of human existence, nothing altogether tangible.
I come to and see the train hasn't crashed.
We're all still folded into our neat corners. Segregated strangers. We're staring out, ready to reach for flesh, too afraid to touch. And I do not feel relief in this, the safety of our insular collective journey, but disappointment.
(We're all still sitting in silence).
Steve Jobs Lives In My iPhone'Be mine'
I whispered into my iPhone
before Steve Jobs forced my voice into a croak.
'Be mine and we can wade through
the rest of eternity.
Until the clouds are swallowed whole
by robots and parents are able
to disintegrate their children's poorest qualities
before they are even born.
Be mine so we can die romantically together.
Before scientists create the cure
for death, or unfaithfulness.
Before pure love is just a footnote
to a segment of time
dolled out in a section
of a workbook in a class
that its students complain is... pointless.'
I said these things
but all you heard was the low crackle,
an electronic buzz of 'Be mine'
and nothing more
because Steve Jobs lives in my iPhone,
and this phone -
has a poor battery life.
I Am Not Steve BuscemiI do not have Steve Buscemi's eyes; mine are worse,
unrecognisable. My teeth, like his,
are crooked and still you don't see me
making cameos in the Hollywood movies.
Ugliness is subjective,
all relative to the scene,
the character, the fiction
that we were born to create.
I am not Steve Buscemi
because despite our similar appearance
my fiction is unimportant, unnecessary
and undeserving of its creation.
When the Elephant Man Speaks to Others'You have a face
only a mother could love' he tells me,
and that's fine because
at least I know I have
The DentistA guy smiles eight times a day on average
but I'm sure you could get some more out of me.
You're a masterpiece I'm sitting on, not sharing,
hoping it won't break because
nothing should be this perfect.
Please, smash in my face
and rebuild it with porcelain plated teeth
then listen to me shake
every time you walk through the door.
You're a Russian doll -
it doesn't matter how many layers of clinical blue fabric
I peel off with eyes,
you'll still look the same; flawless.
'A guy smiles eight times a day on average'
I tell you with your hand so far into my mouth
I'll be tasting knuckle for the next week.
'I've only seen you smile once' she replies.
I remember with her, it's always pulling teeth.
Keep in Touch!
Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More