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SolsticeOnce upon a time, when you were still sunlighthouses and shimmering existence wherever you were needed most, you found him. He was November, shaky on his first last legs, and you saw through the mind-twistings he feigned to the mind-twistings that were really there, knotted up in his dreams.

You were still birdsong then, and thunderstorms, and your bodyheat melted the frost claws that held him tight. You held onto him as his November deepened. When he howled, you howled with him, and the wind played with your voices and pressed the softness of your lungs against your cageribs—and then against each other's.

November became solstice, and
Whiskey Laden DreamsBitter eyes and tears might taint a drink, but sitting in this bar alone with your stool pulled out next to me, and the Martini poured regardless of your presence still brings a smile to my face; despite the taste. I'm having a whiskey myself; dry. Yes, I know I don't drink, but every once in a while you need whiskey to solve an intricate problem, and mine is the distinct lack of alcohol in my life.

There are people everywhere and it amazes me how none of them are you, from the woman in the black dress coming down the stairs to the signing couple in the corner, laughing silently. They're not you at all, and that's what's amazing – in an
I Took To Howling With YouI was shy at first, timid in my dealings,
I laced the trap against my throat,
sang sparing, tip-toed
around your poems.

The tone, the slow vibrating
from the shoots of my shoulders
to the gleam of polished talons,
it purred around inside me.

Oh the song, Coyote,
the same resigned call, it
paled before you, swallowed down its insides,
wept.

I took your little hand in my big hand,
flew out towards Crow, and for a while
My Love, there were poems
and the world was enough.

I took to howling with you,
down from the branches, safe
womb of the tree, I spread
dirt between my toes, sang happy,

sang the song of free,
your wild howl
This Common BloodI am young when I first hear the word 'adoption'. I am so very young, perhaps three, maybe four. I accept it easily when my mother sits me down and explains that I did not grow beneath her heart, but rather in it. I nod my head, smile big, and ask when I'm getting a little sister. My mother kisses me on the forehead and puts her hand on my head as she stands up. "If you wish on a star, Sarah, maybe she will be here very soon." I practice my wishing until night's companions wink merrily in the sky.

Dear Anna,
I turned seventeen just recently. I thought of you when I woke up, and I wondered if you were thinking of me. I like to think that you
chromaWe were merely children when the stars came.

They rained down from the sky in a burst of light, like shards of glass pouring down from the heavens. Supernovas blooming in the night sky, petals raining down onto the barren earth - angels, falling with their wings sheathed, glowing, as they glided down. We watched, starstruck, as the glow overtook us - we were mesmerized. We waited with bated breath as the meteors landed, the celestial light subsiding as dark forms started to pick themselves up from the dust.

They moved towards us with an otherworldly grace, their steps leaving no marks on the earth as they descended upon us. Frozen to our sp
October EyesSuch gentle colors drip across your freckled shoulder blades.
A quilt of puddled watercolors soaked in auburn shades.

Spun of golden rivulets and rinsed in autumn skies,
So many endless currents swimming through your lonesome eyes.

Brushing under fingertips and over shattered songs,
Unraveling like morning glaze against my paling palms.

With beauty like October hills and hollow as the skies,
The water drops against the earth will be our lullaby.
mosaics.sometimes unique
is not loud;
or bright, alive and raging,
possessed of a hunger for the atypical,
up front and too close,
or thrice-pierced and drenched
in the rebellions
particular to the latest generation.

sometimes it is a girl with
mouse brown hair and eyes
the color of weak tea,
who stands with her schoolbooks clutched
to her chest, in uniform shades of grey-blue
like the midmorning autumn sky

who has a wide mouth prone to nervous smiles,

pale lips and pale cheeks
and words that don't always come out
the way she means

who holds the universe
in the intricacies of her fingerprints
and laughs in treble clef notes
and u
Like petals and leavesWhen she thinks of him, she thinks of tree branches:
spindly fingers spread out, stretching
in angles wide for handfuls of sky.

And she thinks of him.

She thinks of him digging his toes
into soft, damp sand,
wading in shallow depths before
being carried by crescents of the sea.

She thinks of him in a blur of curls, in the
warmth on her waist and the coolness on her lips,

pressing the memories and the maybes
like petals and leaves
to paper.

And she thinks of him.
relearning          i. stardust scatters with the
direction of my pupils –
maybe secretly i am an
astrology teacher, waiting
for a sign to wink
happily at me.

         ii. excuse the rambling
nature of forgotten question
marks, but tell me:
would you like to be the
object of handwritten clichés
would you like to whisper
secrets in my palm
and would you
like to be the possibility

         iii. air brushes against my
skin like the torn petals
of a flower still standing.
[ hold your head up high, honey,
and tell tomorrow to wait just
a while,

         iv. so you can figure out
the difference between
patience and having all the
I Of YouI want you to break
and never bend for me,

see my history
spiderweb your brilliance
till you belong to me
(and I, to you)
utterly and forever

and know
you cannot stop this.
grassy field with rustgrassy field with rust
--------------------------

I'd heard about the old car, three miles out of town and all alone. I just had to see it. It was time. School was over for the summer, my friends were at camp, and I was bored. I set out Thursday morning for a hike, following directions that Uncle Will had given me. As the heat was still growing with the climb of the sun, I found the field and wandered around looking, and looking some more, trying not to be distracted by bees buzzing in the flowers, and butterflies and baby mice. Then it was there,  just a bit upslope from the bottom of a natural swale, and just below the sky at th
IfWe can
draw lines and give them names
like elements
as they are discovered

Or etch into our skins
this soloecal desire
until it is impossible to tell
where words stop
and life begins.

I would

Find a common rhythm that includes
you in my arms, my hands
and lungs and thoughts
tracing the outline of you
entangled with me
colliding like two lost particles
locked in a shared gravity
drifting through the vacuum
of space.

  I could.

Exhale, and
remember
sentence structure.
What Soft DreamsWhat soft dreams we lay -
What soft dreams, like infants put to rest -
Frightfully bare, and compromised,
Our kisses on their breasts.

We close our eyes and trust them safe,
Kept 'til break of dawn -
Forgetting that the night is fickle,
And dutifully, as long -

It safeguards some,
Covets others,
Moved by neither coin nor threat
Nor anguished mother's cry.
Down By The SchoolyardThere is a rather cliched phrase that states that some people live double lives. I have always found that to be an intensely misleading statement and I guess you can call it a bit of a pet peeve of mine. No one leads "double lives", they just lead fucking lives. That those lives are more complex that the singular one-track existence of lesser creatures shouldn't be a matter of duplicity, but of common sense. No one is exactly who they seem to be.

Julio is one of those who they would later say lived a double life, but it is no more true for him than anyone else. The difference in this case is that there are two of him, rather than one.

Perha
Automatici.
"So where are you from?" The boy leans toward me, questions swimming in his eyes. I smile.

"Oh, I'm from Boston."

"No, I mean, where are you from?" My smile falters as I realize where this is going. It's an all-too familiar conversation, one I've been having since I was old enough to reply.

"Do you mean where was I born?"

"Yeah."

"I was born in China."

"Do you speak Chinese?"

"No."

"Does your family speak Chinese?"

"No."

He looks befuddled. I sigh.

"I'm adopted."

"Oh!" I see the light bulb over his head go off in a shower of sparks. "Do you know who your real parents are? Like, your real parents?" My temper flares. I stifle th
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Contest Entry for Demyx100The streets of Paris were busy that sunny June day. As the many men and women hustled about, a small boy weaved his way though the legs of the crowd. No one seemed to notice the tiny brunette. That was what he was counting on.  The boy weaseled his way to a small and very crowded outdoor cafe. He could instantly tell the tourists from the locals. The tourists were loud and obnoxious. But more importantly, they were careless. The boy scanned the crowd; his eyes passing over purses and wallets left on tables and under chairs. He grinned as he locked onto a target. A black Gucci purse hung off the back of a chair by it's thin leather strap.
"C
Evelyn the OCD"Did you check the lock?"

I shoot a death glare towards the figure perched on the counter. "Yes, I checked the locked."

"Jeez! No need to get snippy! I'm just trying to help."

"Sure you are."

Gracefully, she slides off of the counter to her feet and strides over to me.

"Where are ya goin'?"

"I'm going to bed now. It's late."

She smirks and I feel uncomfortable. Her smile is never comforting or warm. It's always cocky and every time I see it I want to beat it off her face with a frying pan.

Now she's in my face. I try to look away but she cups my face with her hand and forces me to look into those black eyes.

"Are we sure that we che
Part 4: The EndingThe two finally made their way around the island to the large clearing that was the west side. They both froze as they saw the other couple sitting on the beach. Xigbar had his arm wrapped around Lexleda who appeared to be crying.
"Feel like joing them?"
Xemnas seemed to heitate, but Xenary was already making her way to the two.
"Lexi! Hi!"
The blonde looked up and instantly looked back down; wiping her tears and frantically trying to compose herself.
"Hello Superior; Xenary. I didn't know you were going to be here."
The older girl smiled at her sudden proper behavior and sat next to her, leaning back on her arms.
"You can't see the
Part 3: Xigbar and LexledaXenary disappeared behind a corner, leaving Lexleda alone in the corridor. But not for long.
"Hey babe. You're looking rather sexy today." Lexleda grinned at the familiar voice and turned around.
"You don't look so bad yourself. What's behind your back?"
The Freeshooter brought his arm around reveleling a mixed bouquet of light pink and yellow roses held together by a little white teddy bear. Lexleda squealed and buried her nose in the flowers; inhaling deeply. Xigbar leaned down to kiss her forhead.
"How long until you can be ready to leave?"
"For where?" She asked, toying with the petals.
"The beach. Go get a sexy little swimsuit on s

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October 23, 2012
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When your hands can mimic birds

:iconad-kins:

When your hands can mimic birds,
you lose the need for sound.
A flight of words that bear no chirp
are none the less profound.

They don't perch on a pitch.
They don't possess the need .
They fly until you've seen their song,
then silently recede.

No one could find more freedom than
the freedom granted flight.
No one can see more beauty than in
words passed left to right.
:iconad-kins:
Been studying ASL on my own from a book and Signingsavvy.com. I don't understand the grammar that well, but my vocab is getting bigger and bigger everyday. It's such a pretty language.

OMFG you guys, a DD?! I've been hanging out with my husband while he's been home so I totally missed this. I wondered how I had 400 some comments. I've wanted one of these since I joined this site like, 2 years ago. I'm so honored and I'm just thrilled to have so many people read my work. Thank you all so much!
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Daily Deviation

Given 2012-11-21
When your hands can mimic birds by ~Ad-Kins ( Suggested by `JamminJo and Featured by ^Beccalicious )
love 8 8 joy 1 1 wow 0 0 mad 0 0 sad 0 0 fear 1 1 neutral 0 0
:icontwilightpoetess:
=TwilightPoetess Feb 13, 2013
Hello!

As part of =SilverInkblot's Found Poetry Project, I used the title of this beautiful deviation in a poem here:

Breaking Burdens

Thank you so much! :heart:
Reply
:iconnightshade-keyblade:
*nightshade-keyblade Dec 3, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
What's ASL?
Reply
:iconad-kins:
~Ad-Kins Dec 4, 2012
American Sign Language
Reply
:iconnightshade-keyblade:
*nightshade-keyblade Dec 5, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Oh, right! Just after I posted the previous comment, I realised that you had this deviation in a group for deaf dA members. Delayed reaction there. But yeah, thanks for clearing that up! :lol:
Reply
:iconjairowski:
Mood: Love ~Jairowski Nov 29, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
"No one could find more freedom than
the freedom granted flight." What a truth!
Reply
:iconad-kins:
~Ad-Kins Nov 29, 2012
Thank you! Glad you like it :)
Reply
:iconlight-maker:
~light-maker Nov 25, 2012  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Beautiful,

Justifies the expressiveness of sign language in each passage, and with a fitting natural analogy, birds.
Reply
:iconad-kins:
Mood: Cheerful ~Ad-Kins Nov 25, 2012
That's exactly what I was going for.

Thank you so much!
Reply
:iconquirkybrainiac:
~QuirkyBrainiac Nov 24, 2012  Student General Artist
:love:
Reply
:iconad-kins:
~Ad-Kins Nov 24, 2012
:iconawwwplz:
Reply
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