ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
October 2, 2015
an atheist's prayer by moondrums is, as the suggester writes, "a beautifully postmodern take on culture's, and more broadly, mankind's attempt to rectify knowledge with unknowing."
Featured by LiliWrites
Suggested by successwithhonor
Literature Text
dear god,
i planted no tulips in autumn
and no tulips came in spring.
how silly of me, then
to mourn the empty garden,
to long for fields of amsterdam,
to kneel at night in cold dirt,
hands folded.
i’ve learned there is
a certain ache in lacking
a thing never had, that small itch
whose relief is two seasons past –
so god, if you can hear me,
know that i am homesick
for amsterdam,
whose name, like yours, i know
but whose flowers i cannot see.
i planted no tulips in autumn
and no tulips came in spring.
how silly of me, then
to mourn the empty garden,
to long for fields of amsterdam,
to kneel at night in cold dirt,
hands folded.
i’ve learned there is
a certain ache in lacking
a thing never had, that small itch
whose relief is two seasons past –
so god, if you can hear me,
know that i am homesick
for amsterdam,
whose name, like yours, i know
but whose flowers i cannot see.
Literature
Writer
I am a scientist;
Pinning down ideas
like butterflies
preserving them in
their fragile beauty
as I take away their freedom,
their life.
I am a parasite;
sucking the soul out
of music and leaving it
a hollow shell
that plays like
the noisy silence in
my ears.
I am a thief;
taking what is not mine,
the world around me,
and pouring it into
a mould that
I claim is
my own.
I am a blasphemer;
playing God in a
sacred place, changing
the world to my
liking when the orchestra
is not under my
conduction.
I am a liar;
selling false havens
to lonely runaways,
giving them a glimpse
of a world more glamorous,
more fantas
Literature
on loving a girl who doesn't love herself
You used to tell her that you’d accept the reminders, the dark shades running down and over the hill of her waist, the shadow of her wrist. Far from unlovable, you said. So far.
Grudgingly, you realized that you could not fix her. She was not a dismantled puzzle just waiting for you; she was her own brand of porcelain, one you didn’t know how to mold back together. She wasn’t breathing for you.
The moments of silence between you led to a longer period, those weeks when you went days without talking – and you didn’t know if you were supposed to be proud of her or cry.
Stargazed at each other’s words until
Literature
This is Irony
I count the passing of days in ashtray soldiers,
and stillness in the words of dead poets.
We write our secrets on the inside of our lungs
and hide truths on the inside of our stanzas,
because it’s acceptable to wear hatred on your arms,
but vulnerability is a mark of weakness.
I have choked down everything: pain and shame and arsenic tranquility,
to spew forth such paltry words and call it poetry.
A waltz away from thirty eight caliber oblivion
we press back, back
because death isn’t as romantic as we hoped,
and poison is quieter than a gunshot.
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
mary, mary, quite contrary
how does your garden grow?
questions for #thewrittenrevolution:
1. how is the flow? are the line breaks too jarring?
2. is the concept clear?
3. is it too plainly worded?
review for #thewrittenrevolution:
[link]
edit: thank you dearly for the DD!
comment: i am the atheist in question. this is not a work meant to disparage atheists or atheism in any way. this is a reflection of my own personal experience, nothing more.
how does your garden grow?
questions for #thewrittenrevolution:
1. how is the flow? are the line breaks too jarring?
2. is the concept clear?
3. is it too plainly worded?
review for #thewrittenrevolution:
[link]
edit: thank you dearly for the DD!
comment: i am the atheist in question. this is not a work meant to disparage atheists or atheism in any way. this is a reflection of my own personal experience, nothing more.
© 2015 - 2024 moondrums
Comments139
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
not even kidding when i say this is my favorite poem for years now. nothing can beat this for me. i show it to everyone