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About Literature / Artist joannFemale/United States Recent Activity
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Literature
Maybe if you were here
I had a miserable time.  Beneath my brain's foamy beer-stained chaos, I managed to tell myself over and over again, "this may suck, but at least you look damn good." (I'd broken out the little black cocktail dress.)
A man with a goofy smile and glassy eyes wrapped an arm around me, rooting me to the place I stood.  He asked me how I was doing--if I was enjoying myself--and I managed a fuzzy, "yeah this is ok I guess i'm not sure if i'll stay for much longer though it's getting kind of crowded and all i really want to do is dance and the music kinda sucks..."
"OHMYGOD I LOVE THAT BAND TOO" he yelled into my ear as he spilled his full cup of beer down my leg.
This is so wonderful.  
Maybe if you were here, I wouldn't be stuck in the middle of a hot room with people breathing down my back, all the while wondering how long I have to stay in order to be polite, and maybe if you were here I wouldn't have to pretend to be having a good time because you could show
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Literature
nail polish
my teeth have bitten nails;
i've painted some deep red--
others i've left naked.
i'll peel off my paint for you--
a naked girl left on your bed.
but only if you promise to paint me back red.
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Literature
cornered
oh god you're a fucking joke just shut up and let me tug on your hair big boy
she says when she's lonely and he tries to find something more
in her eyes than the color brown.
she's messy and she likes it-- feeling disheveled and unleveled and off kilter
trying to hold on to flat walls walking through grungy rooms
searching for the toilet.
the music is oppressive and stretches, warping through closed doors
while she finds fleeting peace in sitting on cold dirty porcelain
then falling on the floor.
what the hell am i doing here what the hell am i doing here she chants
wanting to get out of her own stupid head
because alcohol has trapped her mind in a corner
and she cannot find her warm bed.
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Literature
let down.
i am not impressed.
you're life has become hectic
drunk
unkempt
your hair is a mess.
stop pretending that everything is ok.
i can hear fools swarm outside your door at night
and there alone on your bed i lay.
what has happened to your face?
that smile you used to give to me so freely
has been sourly replaced.
i do not understand.
take some responsibility
grow up
god dammit
be a fucking man.
my hands can't hold yours anymore.
don't come around here tomorrow or the day after or the day after
i'll just show you the door.
i cannot believe you.
everything
all the words you spoke to me
all the kisses you promised me
were untrue.
i am not impressed
by you.
i am not impressed
by you.
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Literature
hanging around
My skin glistened in the sun and I felt a bead of sweat roll down the side of my face.  I twisted my body to comfortably lie in the hammock, its gracefully swung arms contouring perfectly to the notches of my spine.  Beneath my shades I read Nabokov’s “Lolita,” but my eyes were strained and my head woozy from the brightness of the sun, so I set his book down on the grass and watched little gnats drift through the summer day surrounding me.
I shifted my shoulders over one side of the hammock, swung my legs over the other and saw the world upside down.  The trees’ green leaves above were still-- rays of light stinging through their patchwork.  
My dad’s flower patch was being swooned over by dashing bumble bees and delicate butterflies while I lifted my arms over my head and let them dangle down, as my hair did, so my finger tips grazed blades of grass.  Nothing around me, other than the bugs, was really moving.
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Literature
Dylan's 'Moonshiner'
          “I’ve been a moonshiner for seventeen long years… I spent all my money on whiskey and beer…” he sang.  I watched him in the dim light of his dorm room.  Books were strewn across the floor beside dried brown leaves that had found their ways in, each carefully hitching rides on his brown leather shoes.  
          “God bless them pretty women, I wish they was mine…” he sang, and all I could think about was how sad I felt.  A few months ago he'd explained to me that all he wanted was to focus on himself.  I’m selfish, Joann, he said, I’m a very very selfish person right now.  
          And now that we’re back together I want him devoted to me at all times; I’ve turned into the selfish one.  Or, we are b
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Literature
yes
yes yes yes yes yes
undress
i'm a mess
yes yes
i like that
if you stop i'll be devastated
tonight
your eyes promised me something
sweet
yes yes yes
a treat
the way our fingertips meet
like the tips of our tongues
yes
that's what i like
forgive me while i close my eyes
forgive me for my naked thighs
forgive me for my airy sighs
yes
i'm asking for you tonight
yes yes
i need to touch that cheek
feel your hands run down my arms
yes yes yes
lips to skin
yes yes yes
it's ok to look at me
if you smile i'll smile too
i cannot help but smile
at you
opps i made that wet
but wait i'm not done yet
yes yes
i can feel you sweat
yes
i need that too
yes yes yes yes yes
that's the place i like the best
yes
don't move another inch
yes yes
give it a pinch
and make me giggle uncontrollably
yes
that's how i want to feel
if you stop i'll be devastated
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Literature
beats
it's the music grabbing your heels and pulling--
making you slip around, dance-crazy-dance
the beat is no longer on the outside but exists within you
under your hunched shoulders and dizzy fingertips
slithering circles round your calves and thighs
jumping between your excited legs
it swings your hair while your hips twirl
unable to let go of the floating feeling
you're high up there
can hear the faint muffled voice of a bluesy friend
tricking you into dancing more
keep moving because if you don't you'll never move again
keep drumming
keep that neck flexible
keep your arms up
slippery and agile you shift side to side
and watch the dim light change colors
its time to really start this
jump up farther and farther from the floor
again!
again!
again!
insane bongo beats rhythmic treats
feel that sort of easy body flow that spews out
and mixes with the high and low notes
the ear shattering loudness is amazing
you've never felt like this before
you've never done this before
you've always said
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Literature
tick
i grabbed on to him wholeheartedly,
digging my fingernails into his fleash like a tick;
i need his blood.  
won't let go til i'm full and fat,
not til the little hairs on my body stand on end
and i inflate, completely round,
not til i can take everything i can from him.
i blend in with his dark course hair,
black growing out of his skin,
the skin i'm now in;
he cannot find me.
bury my face into his neck,
be the vampire i know i can be,
sucking streams of support,
stealing parts of his life
before he even realizes he's not whole anymore.
he'll start to scratch at where i am
but i'll be hidden,
tunneled just far enough in
so he can see me but not reach me;
he'll know i'm there.
he's forced to look at me hopelessly.
look at me.
  
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Literature
problems
his anemic arms
smooth
bare
no hair
they reach across the table
slap slap slap
what an ignorant prick
because of his dick
no one to stick
with his angry selfish eyes
with his bony shoulders
and itchy feet
a starving dog
beneath the lonely moon tonight
he's given up the fight
besides he has no right
to yell
or raise his voice at
the balding trees
or me
wind blowing his body
back and forth
he barely has
anymore curls
to use against the cold
shouldn't have gone
against what he was told
broken by the tiny storms
of leaves flying by
staring up
at the clouds in the sky
and watching me
walk by
we didn't even need to try
he's already
felt the sting
of red sores
messing with his mind
didn't know he could be so unkind
of course
it's him
i'd find.
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Literature
skyscrapers
the skyscrapers are the same
   maybe different heights
   maybe different shades of gray
   one has more windows than the other
but they're all the same.
walking from building to building i am diappointed
   by the impersonal greeting-- uniform to each
   by the line of fake plants along the walls-- a pitiful attempt to please asthetically
   and somehow i cannot bring myself to take their elevators--
why explore whats up there when i already know.
the people working in them
   should abandon their square desks to smell the clouds outside
   should walk under laughing trees instead of bleach-white ceilings
   they should smile at passing strangers on sidewalks, not grumble over work in
   their cubicles littered with paper and chewing gum.
they should want to be happy.
someone should take a wrecking ball to this city
   wi
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bonjour by peacefrogo0o0o bonjour :iconpeacefrogo0o0o:peacefrogo0o0o 0 0
Literature
no title...
Sometimes I cannot find it in his eyes,
That lit up expression of longing that once stood in place of
This hollowed selfish, far away stare.
He’s no more in love with me than he is
The stray kitten he found wondering the streets at night
But I still approach him, still get my ear scratched.
An itch on his shoulder,
A grouchy creak in the door hinge that wakes everyone up at night—
That’s what I have become.
And yet,
He does not let my paws stray too far,
Puts milk out for me when he remembers.
Reaches behind him, in the midst of his reading, to scratch the spot.
Oils the hinge.
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Literature
My long legged guitar pickin
He creeps up on my mind in
the dead of night the middle
of the day the time when the
sun first peeks over the horizon
and when the moon makes the
air chilly.  I've waited i've appreciated
i've kissed i've missed i've supplied i've
denied i've touched i've watched i've pinched
i've flinched i've hugged i've tugged i've smiled at
him and he is glued to my hip.  no rip rip rip for us any
time soon.  I'm certain that he knows my favorite color my
favorite ice cream flavor, my singing voice and my behavior, my
fake smiles from the genuine ones, how to calm me when i come undone
and he will never turn down the opportunity to hold my bad luck hand.  He's my man my lover my teacher my brother my mister my salvation my partner my penetration my boy my toy my yang, for christ's sake!  He's my long legged guitar pickin man.
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me by peacefrogo0o0o me :iconpeacefrogo0o0o:peacefrogo0o0o 0 0
Literature
Lonely.
The woman stands in the elevator, eyes closed, fingers gripping the bridge of her nose.  She is wearing a skirt that does not reach finger’s length, a tank top with a pink star on the front, bra straps showing, and a jacket thrown loosely over herself in an attempt to cover her arms.  Her fishnets are torn, her make-up smeared.  Upon reaching floor number six, a thin man wearing a trench coat enters.  His eyes are watery.
Man: Hey.
Woman (not looking up): Hello.
Man (cautiously): …Are you…all right?  You look a little…
Woman (sharply, but tiredly): A little what?
Man: Sorry, you just seem a little worn out.
Woman: Look, I look tired because I am tired.  If you’re trying to get me to your room, it ain’t gonna happen so you might as well quit while you’re ahead.  
Man (chuckling slightly): Whoa, whoa whoa.  Slow down.  I was just
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last," she says
"Wsene, will you
  guide my thoughts?
(I'm just
a cat in the dark)
"       she bites
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A new day's sun is too high to follow.
My crippled wings flap
sorrows,
withered hopes,
and failed tomorrows.
I'm a grounded bird on time that's borrowed,
Looking into a mug of coffee too hot to swallow,
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It never replied, never answered me.
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Broken,
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Literature
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How far the sea expands?
Its horizon hiding hidden lands.
Where knowledge here
may not be knowledge at all.
A sailing destination
that only escapes
to a destined fall of a question.
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Activity


deviantID

peacefrogo0o0o
joann
Artist | Literature
United States
Favourite genre of music: psychedelic & classic rock mostly. but i don't limit myself...i listen to almost everythin
Interests
I'm returning.

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconrengirl:
rengirl Featured By Owner Apr 4, 2009  Hobbyist General Artist
I changed accounts! Come follow me!

:iconrengirl:

used to be calmingchaos!
Reply
:iconaristocrat-knights:
Aristocrat-knights Featured By Owner Oct 2, 2008
best poetry i have read in a long time!
Reply
:iconpeacefrogo0o0o:
peacefrogo0o0o Featured By Owner Oct 9, 2008   Writer
hey, thanks!
Reply
:iconcalmingchaos:
CalmingChaos Featured By Owner Jun 4, 2008
Ms. Peace. I tag you. Read my journal.
Reply
:iconcarollaroca:
CarolLaRoca Featured By Owner Jan 19, 2008   Photographer
Thanks for the :+fav: on Lovely Girl
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:iconhowaboutnot:
howaboutnot Featured By Owner Jan 17, 2008
So I was reading comments left on my page from a really frickin long time ago...try last may...and you said you wanted to draw me? We should get together and create something artistic when I come home this weekend. K.
Reply
:iconsleepyfeet:
sleepyfeet Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2007
(:
Reply
:iconsimanion:
Simanion Featured By Owner Aug 16, 2007  Professional Traditional Artist
Thanks for faving "Chicken vs the Desert Sun"!! ...the chicken won.
Reply
:iconpeacefrogo0o0o:
peacefrogo0o0o Featured By Owner Aug 16, 2007   Writer
welcome :sun:
Reply
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