Deprevation

sopping up the inspiration, creativity and beauty from life's dregs

Torch December 4, 2016

Filed under: EL,In Vino....,Oldies — nomisyar @ 00:12

                                 Dancing                                                                   

                                            with        

                     suns    burns

                                          old souls.

                     Dance with me babe,

                                         

                             just dance.

 

the space November 9, 2016

Filed under: Oldies,What it is — nomisyar @ 20:57

that vile
inferno
twixt love and
pain and hate,
you’ll find me.

Ready

to knock you down

to love you up, or
to show you the wonder that is you.
or, we can just do some blow,
and see who comes next.

capricious and whimsical,
like a much older,
much angrier,
slightly less sensitive
Hamlet.

raw
exposed
hungry
nonchalant and
earnest.

lettered,
and on the loose,
a warrior without a home,
save the Love
in my heart.

Shelter for one.
more?

 

Precocious September 22, 2012

Filed under: In Vino....,MORE,Oldies — nomisyar @ 14:03

image

 

Blue Steel July 17, 2009

Filed under: Oldies — nomisyar @ 00:22

Calm and Smooth, she is blue steel.
Parting gently as our vessel bladed through,
Slight ripple here, a gentle breeze there,
her only reactions to the rhythmic strokes of the oars

Now the pace quickens, muscles are bunched.
yet still passive is she
amidst the merciless strikes of the oars.

And suddenly, in a gown of white lace
the boat shrouded with her fury.
And in this pure white we are found
struggling, unyeilding in our quest for glory

Her briney gown which mists the eyes
will not stop us.
The oars move faster now
smacking her skin in challenge

She offers a frothy reply
as the boat is consumed by her innocence
Oars are now carefully guided
by bewildered arms,
not knowing where to strike, or where to pull-
Her arms and chest beat about our oars, mercilly

And as we commence in this wild embrace,
we never kiss, though face to face.
There is no love, yet passions run high
for in this embrace, something must die.

Oars pound her back, as she pounds ours
yet still, still we clutch unto each other
in violent struggle searching….
searching for the calmness again

-nomisyar (circa 1996)

 

 
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