atasteofink

Emily

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Holdenesque by atasteofink, literature

Literature

Holdenesque

Holdenesque Your hands are larger than mine They'd swallow my own, awkward and folded. Your thumbs sized to my wrists...Intangible, I think; these are fingers that have touched cheeks and written pages on things I cannot conceive: Your right hand has held pens to tell of kissing your newborn son. My fingers wrapped around a brush to dip in acrylics, and I painted what I saw: a still life of roses in a haze. Sometimes all I need is a place to sit and write, the dust settling heavy in my chest, like my sloppy, almost-backward cursive could alleviate my JD Salinger thoughts – I am Holden: sick and brilliant with enthusiasm, watchin

Tigercatwalk by atasteofink, literature

Literature

Tigercatwalk

Tigercat cutting through the everyday crowd, the faster the catwalk the more around; she moves her back, her neck all angles to switchblade through the likes of you. Know that she walks past the beast that hisses or stares: Tigercat will see you and she no longer cares. To look back at you after she's clawed a path past; a chip on her shoulder, she'll brush your dirt off. For each spit --or catcall--to her face, she'll not make room in her glamourous urn that she calls her temple of God.

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Embers by atasteofink, literature

Literature

Embers

There\'s a shimmer like the hope of a tomorrow, Something more than our attempted afterglow. Bring out your glints of faith Better than a drifting reflection in the mist. Maybe we\'ll change it if we, Maybe we\'ll make if when we Stop looking through the faded glass; Just blurred sights of a crippled mass. Beacons flicker and blink, But no one can even think. Withall the contrast of fighting The path is unlit and winding. Yet a glance around only now shows There is more behind the ember that glows.

Petals by atasteofink, literature

Literature

Petals

She gathers his petals from the past The ones back from when he had to ask. She loves me She loves me not. Find his fortune through chance of a Lucky answer from a flower. The white petals lie on the ground, And she gathers his petals from the past. She catches the rain after his storms The storms that ruin What could be true. The clouds that covered The light of the sun Slowly fade away. She can't stop what caused the wind Only begin to clean up what now is left. And she catches the rain after his storms. The wind that blows the petals away, The clouds that made the flower. She stands up against the wind A hurricane will

Head to knee by atasteofink, literature

Literature

Head to knee

Head to knee, I'm dreaming again Bright blue socks and New Found Glory bring back To that day when I lost my faith Wide eyes corrupted Minimized by tears and ubiquitous sights Hot Topic and glitter eye shadow Masking what secrets lie in his contemporary hits I want to sleep through the next week Forget what day it is Be safe and warm two blankets hide My eyes are dry and stinging Head foggy and forgotten I try to write you a note but all the words Come out backwards As I think, isn't it ironic And burst into song Screaming through my tears 3 minutes and 10 seconds of sweet escape

Frozen hell by atasteofink, literature

Blue Ink by atasteofink, literature

Literature

Blue Ink

There\'s blue ink streaming on my page Torn words, weathered needs Lacking sleep and wanting to know Locusts and honey What\'s the manna of her life? Self-doubt Fear Scorn Something\'s wrong with me My thoughts are bad to them Seven days and seven nights Keep me from the impending sudden motion I feel like walking out Going to find a place and let my poor mind rest. Go home, fall on the floor Let myself fade away Tear drops ripple the linoleum And I fall straight through the ground Down to a place of stillness Most derisable slumber ever But no, only not Still stuck in a classroom Watching life tick by outside a dust-

Bridges and Streams by atasteofink, literature

The Face of Oblivion by atasteofink, literature

Literature

The Face of Oblivion

I\'m staring into The sweet scarred face of oblivion Innocent bright eyes that sing of blindess Such a mouth will never whisper of truth I\'m still telling myself Don\'t look back; don\'t dream of memories He sends me kisses in words of poison Keep on walking; take steps of reality And I can\'t move Stuck in the sickening shadow of loss Breathe in, it\'s the scent of shame I\'m in a room full of pain But you were wrong.

Resentment Reoccurs by atasteofink, literature

Literature

Resentment Reoccurs

Restless/resentment/reoccurs I haven't seen your real face in so long It took a while to notice, but I realized that In my mind, your blue eyes are brown --I can't look into either All my nights of torrential trauma Did you shed a tear or your skin --again and again Now you cannot rule/runmeover/rehurt It took me time tears and trying to avoid you, your Ridiculous morbid memories --But I can't meet your blindingbluebrown eyes You preen over your bleeding Let the pearls of pity fall around you Let them roll off over your scars and say -it's pride that holds you back- You'll never help yourself Demand that I give you perfectio

the pure truth broke through by atasteofink, literature

Literature

the pure truth broke through

Looking back, I think Maybe it wasn\'t that bad Looking harder, I decide Maybe it was. Sometimes I wonder if it was all me What if you\'re the innocent And everyone\'s been lying to me But I keep checking the facts And beg of you to answer -What did I ever do to you?- But I know it\'s nothing I did If anything, there was a time When I helped. Maybe I still could be helping Erase the pain and problems Results of your past I did try to help you But saturation points exist You need to work on yourself -What did you ever do for yourself?- You tried to brush it off Pretend that you can handle it all Enjoying pity before backs

Locusts and Honey by atasteofink, literature

Literature

Locusts and Honey

There's blue ink all over my page, Filled with torn words and weathered needs. I'm lacking sleep and wanting to know, - locusts and honey - What's the manna of my life? Something is wrong with me. My thoughts are so bad to them. Can seven days and seven nights keep me from the impending threats? I feel like walking out to find a place Where I can let my poor mind rest. I want to go home, fall on the floor - When my tear drops ripple the linoleum, And I fall straight through the ground to Let my self fade away to a place of stillness, To have the most desirable slumber ever. But I'm trapped here With a mere hour left, My

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Deviation Spotlight

red ink thoughts by atasteofink, literature

Literature

red ink thoughts

The smell of glossy magazines. The discarded bits of paper lying on the floor. The messy, mismatched piles of less than perfect cutouts. The Scotch Tape, the scissors, the notebook and red pen. The ignored homework and chores. The inspiring music, the "Acoustic" mixCD. Sitting, legs tucked under each other, lotus style. Hair falling into unfocused eyes, masking thoughts. Peace and stillenss, and a peculiar lingering scent of burnt popcorn. Thoughts are many and slowly drifting. This is calm, this is a part of a long and uneventful day. This is not wishing for company and distraction, this is relaxing and creating. This is (finally

red ink thoughts

atasteofink

About atasteofink

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Artist // Literature

Deviant for 21 years
She / Her

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My Bio

Current Residence: Washington
Favourite genre of music: progressive rock ;)
Operating System: Windows XP
MP3 player of choice: iTunes
Shell of choice: puka
Favourite cartoon character: Hobbes

Favourite Visual Artist

Vladimir Kush in an inspiration

Favourite Movies

Moulin Rouge

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Incubus, Guster, John Butler Trio

Favourite Writers

Walt Whitman, T.S. Eliot, Francesca Lia Block

Other Interests

writing, art, books, all that stuff

Profile Comments 25

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avenescent

Jul 7, 2005

my sincere gratitude

.:.

nolita

Jul 6, 2005

ciao!!
love your stuff

Hello!

my favourite picture of you is still the one that's in your msn profile. i love you.

Thank you for the

hiiloveyousomuch.

Dude, is "Shell of choice" seriously a "Devious Information" question? Hahaha. Snail shells are insnaily awesome. You can stick vegemeat in there and call say it's es cargot (however you spell that). So yup, you da quack, but you've been a lazy one lately. Where are the products of your ingestion? Err... you know, soul food. I swear I'm not trying to call all your work crap or anything... uh...yeah, you know what I mean.

update.

-thus demandeth the demanding one, Spiffers