Lofty dust
through sunlight streams
upon over the beams of
the barn sitting in silent
soft defiance of absent stillness,
settles on striates of straw
entangles twinned across
the floor of the eve
a summers breeze, warm
midst the leaves of trees,
stirs heady motes
across subtle shafts
of fluid light through
wooden bars of shade
falling high to the floorboard floors,
where forgotten feathers drift
along the earth amongst
the dirt and elusive
lucid thoughts above
lost to dreams.
Profile- Adopt a writer by senka-aponi, literature
Literature
Profile- Adopt a writer
1. Adopted bt also happy to offer feedback in return!
2. Prose and Poetry
Age: 20
Category: I love writing poetry but have recently been trying to write more prose!
Writing Interests: I mainly write sci fi and fantasy or emotional and/ or romantic life scenarios. Sometimes my poetry and themes can seem a little flowery and cliché but I strive to create something original and most importantly beautiful.
Expectations: Just some feedback and opinions on my work.
Learning interests: Transferring my creativity from my poetry to prose.
Time: Once a week, or once per submission. Currently at Uni studying drama and creative writing so I
Milk bottles. I started avoiding them about 2 years ago; now I don't even drink milk. Mum always used to get the blue milk for us kids and Dad and the red milk for herself. But Aunty Carol doesn't get milk, not because she doesn't like it but because she said is supposed to be for babies and as we can quite happily manage solid food we don't need it. She is very hippy like that, only buys organic stuff and keeps her own chickens. But for me looking at the side of a milk bottle symbolises the moment that life fell apart. You know, that moment in your life that is responsible for the complete change of everything but you don't know it then. No,
Just another hospital bed by senka-aponi, literature
Literature
Just another hospital bed
Hospital Room.
Violet stared around the white hospital room before collapsing onto her bed, her green eyes looked pained and puffy. Her nurse, Sookie ripped open the plastic bag of a new nasal cannula and attached it to the oxygen tube before passing it to her and turning up the flow. It had been a long night in A&E waiting to be transferred to the specialist Cystic Fibrosis unit and an even longer struggle trying to stay out of hospital the week before. Vi had called her sister at two in the morning and asked her to come around after being up all night with lung pain and coughing. It hadn't taken long for Emmy to arrive and call for an ambu
Everything was sharp and painfully bright, she could barely see through the sunlight that seemed to consume the forest. She was happy from the fish caught on her trip and walked, light and carefree. But somewhere she could feel it coming, she knew but couldn't stop walking towards it. She noticed the sudden silence but carried on. The soft moss beneath her feet grew stranger with each step, turning slick and sticky. She looked down and the glaring light extinguished, images flooded her view. Bodies and blood everywhere, oozing and congealing over the forest floor, the smell. Her sister's pretty, pale face, swollen and slightly discoloured. Ey
'Squeeze my hand if you can hear me baby'
You're in there still maybe
No. End stage CF at 27.
You lived strong, now breathe easy
And lay your head on your hospital bed.
Fought so hard, be still now sweetie,
Lips turned blue but it's all been said.
Worn down by IVs,
Hospital admissions, diabetes,
arthritis, small airways disease,
lung collapse, bi-pap machines,
24/7 oxygen, CO2 high and O2 too low.
'I'm sorry; there is nothing left for us to try'.
Tears held back start to flow
'You need to say your last goodbye'
We take it for granted you see, our time
And they fit so much in their fourteen lines.
Lofty dust
through sunlight streams
upon over the beams of
the barn sitting in silent
soft defiance of absent stillness,
settles on striates of straw
entangles twinned across
the floor of the eve
a summers breeze, warm
midst the leaves of trees,
stirs heady motes
across subtle shafts
of fluid light through
wooden bars of shade
falling high to the floorboard floors,
where forgotten feathers drift
along the earth amongst
the dirt and elusive
lucid thoughts above
lost to dreams.
Milk bottles. I started avoiding them about 2 years ago; now I don't even drink milk. Mum always used to get the blue milk for us kids and Dad and the red milk for herself. But Aunty Carol doesn't get milk, not because she doesn't like it but because she said is supposed to be for babies and as we can quite happily manage solid food we don't need it. She is very hippy like that, only buys organic stuff and keeps her own chickens. But for me looking at the side of a milk bottle symbolises the moment that life fell apart. You know, that moment in your life that is responsible for the complete change of everything but you don't know it then. No,
Just another hospital bed by senka-aponi, literature
Literature
Just another hospital bed
Hospital Room.
Violet stared around the white hospital room before collapsing onto her bed, her green eyes looked pained and puffy. Her nurse, Sookie ripped open the plastic bag of a new nasal cannula and attached it to the oxygen tube before passing it to her and turning up the flow. It had been a long night in A&E waiting to be transferred to the specialist Cystic Fibrosis unit and an even longer struggle trying to stay out of hospital the week before. Vi had called her sister at two in the morning and asked her to come around after being up all night with lung pain and coughing. It hadn't taken long for Emmy to arrive and call for an ambu
Everything was sharp and painfully bright, she could barely see through the sunlight that seemed to consume the forest. She was happy from the fish caught on her trip and walked, light and carefree. But somewhere she could feel it coming, she knew but couldn't stop walking towards it. She noticed the sudden silence but carried on. The soft moss beneath her feet grew stranger with each step, turning slick and sticky. She looked down and the glaring light extinguished, images flooded her view. Bodies and blood everywhere, oozing and congealing over the forest floor, the smell. Her sister's pretty, pale face, swollen and slightly discoloured. Ey
My voice is saturated with grief from the loss I am trying to prevent. So heavy with anguish and pain that my words fall right through the earth and burn at its heart. But still she does not hear my pleas. Well she does hear them. But she is empty. I can see it in her face. Her face that was once bright and soft and full of smiles willing to be given out. She says she has nothing left. That the world has nothing left and that all is dust and will fall away. There is no reason for her to stay she explains. She tells me to come away with her. That its the only way. Her voice is flat, life less feeding the loss I feel before her life is even gon
'Squeeze my hand if you can hear me baby'
You're in there still maybe
No. End stage CF at 27.
You lived strong, now breathe easy
And lay your head on your hospital bed.
Fought so hard, be still now sweetie,
Lips turned blue but it's all been said.
Worn down by IVs,
Hospital admissions, diabetes,
arthritis, small airways disease,
lung collapse, bi-pap machines,
24/7 oxygen, CO2 high and O2 too low.
'I'm sorry; there is nothing left for us to try'.
Tears held back start to flow
'You need to say your last goodbye'
We take it for granted you see, our time
And they fit so much in their fourteen lines.
I dont like tattoos
But id let you fill my skin with your words
And wear my heart on my sleeve
For you
My skin will be a softer parchment to your ink
A place for you to spread the beauty of your soul
Mapping your mind on my body
And if your ink ran dry
You could take your choice of my tears or my blood
To add a swirl of soft colour to your art
I can feel the wings you stroked upon my back
I wear you like the lightest of armour
You made me brave and strong and free
The touches of your creativity making my skin sing
I dont like tattoos
but for when they are made by your hands on me
I am one of those annoying sensible uni students! I am very settled and engaged to icantwrite. We have been through a lot and can't wait to get married next year! I am studying drama and creative writting and am in my second year. blonde 5.4ft..and a half :) I love to be active- Dancing, rock climbing, walking, cycling, camping!
Hey
Been a really busy year, my first year at Royal Holloway University studying drama and creative writing.So obviously i have been doing lots of writing but I didnt want to submit anything until after I had finished my course for the year.
So over the summer I will be trying to submit more regularly and I would really appreciate any constructive criticism!
Thanks
:)
Ok ... I haven't been around much on DA the last 2 weeks, I've been really busy! I've been finding it pretty hard to write, finding time and inspiration. I think its the strange combination of being kinda stressed and really happy! So, I was one of the first 10 people to commented on :dev=platinummyr: journal and so he featured 3 pieces of my work, now I have to do the same for the first 10 people that comment on mine (yes I know that was a while ago ...sorry !!) :D. I was thinking I probs wont get 10 people though !! And maybe instead I should put a 10 day time limit on it instead !! Hehe. Well I'm going to try and make some extra time for
OK just an update i guess?? I got my alevel results (a couple of weeks ago now)I got an A in drama B in English and a C in biology which im pleased with :) Well curiously enough icantwrite (https://www.deviantart.com/icantwrite) has put some pictures of my feet on his profile that we took whilst in the park, just having a laugh, and they have gained more views and favourites then any of our hard writen poetry !!!! HeHe! so im thinking i should stop writing poetry and take more pictures of my feet !! :P Still looking for a job!! :( but all in all a very happy bunnie! xxx
Thank you for joining , we’re delighted to have you with us. Welcome to the revolution.
We’re quite a busy group. Among other things, we regularly post prompts and six week challenges for our members to try. So check them out! Also feel free to add us on Facebook and Twitter: @WrittenRevolt.
Hey you! I want to give you a critique, but you seem to only have one up for the option - I would love to critique 'Shards' and the one before it, I believe you said anything was fair game. Did you want that in a comment box or would you like it in a critique box so I can share it with my watchers too I think they are wonderful