JLithium on deviantART

About Me Member Deviant of Many Talents Jonathan16/Male/Canada

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Icarus

Daedalus was my sire, the sun was my dream In Minos’ grasp I watched the beams Of heaven rain to the dust of Earth Where I lay bound by blood and birth, But in my eyes desire gleamed.
Could I one day, above mortals rise? Could I one day sail forbidden skies? I feigned to be a man of gold, Heard praise from my admirers unfold And I exulted in their lies.
Till I believed I was a God; Over loved ones now I trod With quickened step, eyes on the sun I rose over seas and made my run As mortals below watched in awe.
Was this a God with

I like to experiment with different styles. This one came out particularly well - if you like what you see add me!

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BypassDeath is beating down the door. We can hear him in every drip of sweat Every beep of the machines Every whisper. His voice is in our heads, his voice is in our hearts: Thump thump, click, beep Thump thump, click, beep Synchronised with the throb of the world That is collapsing around us As foundations fall to dust And panic leaps like lightning through strained veins Death is beating down the door.
We can see him clenching the throbbing heart Laid bare on the open chest before us But the heart is our hope, still beating The rhythm of strength and Bypass
by ~JLithium

On Wings of the Hippopotamus The year is 2050, and it will be known long afterward as the year the hippopotamuses died. That is, if anyone cares like I do. They say I’m weird. Messed up. I guess they’re right; after all, I often walk the metropolis rails alone at midnight, when the city sleeps. Tonight is a perfect night for walking. I wander like a lab rat through the maze of rails and pods that tangle through the city, looking for something. The skies overhead are silent, the stars blinded by the enviro-husk that surrounds the city. I suck the dry, regulated On Wings of the Hippopotamus
by ~JLithium

The GardenerWith spade and trowel he stands on the grave The scent of fresh loam entwined in dawn’s mist Brings back the memories that so long have enslaved The passions he hides in iron-clenched fists
Dig. Spade’s rhythm keeps time with the throb Of the world that has collapsed around him Dig. Up the ruins of innocence robbed By roots of black bane and buds of dark whim
But gone is the corpse; the putrid remains Returned to the soil where he plants his seed And waters it with remorse and shame, His second chance from earth’s irons freed
Bloom! Swe The Gardener
by ~JLithium

My Destiny I don’t remember where I found you. Maybe you showed up at my door like a stray cat, while the storm raged outside, and I kept you warm in my arms. Maybe I found you in the gutter, your broken wings splayed about you like petals from a ruined flower. I don’t know what I saw in you. Whatever it was, I couldn’t think of anyone but you, couldn’t pull myself away when I tried.
“Destiny,” you said when I asked you your name. And before I could coax anything else p My Destiny
by ~JLithium

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wooden hearts.he told me that i was the most beautiful of all the mannequins in the department store; he said that he wouldn't mind being stuck in this hellhole forever, as long as he stood next to me.
and i loved him because he warmed my immobile heart, and i loved him for how he'd never leave my side if i told him not to.
each day, we'd stand together under the heated display lights i didn't care that there were others more beautiful than me
i didn't care when closing time was arriving, all that mattered was that he only had eyes for me and only wooden hearts.
by ~dead-neon-light

Reading PoetryI swallow distorted words laughing as they reverberate in my throat and slide down my esophogus into the deep void of my soul.
Every sentence tastes powder-soft like eating snow and sugar crystals with the acidic bite of love-lost poems and a forgotten muse.
We drink a white-wine spritzer of verbs and ellipses with a brandy twist of sorrow and a tongue print of lemon to counteract the pain.
I ask you for an absinthe kiss and you press cigarette-stained thoughts into my mouth as the shadow-words burrow into our bones searc Reading Poetry
by =methylated-spirit

oh god nooh shit he’s coming up the stairs oh shit he’s coming up the stairs it’s quiet okay.
okay.
i wish the hunger didn’t make me mad. i want to feel the hunger pangs to say i’ve suffered i wish it didn’t make me have panic attacks in the street and punch things until my knuckles bleed
he’s coming up the goddamn stairs
don’t breathe in my face with your booze-breath. i can smell the hate and depression on you. i can see you falling asleep sitting up and you won’t fucking wake up.
you oh god no
by ~dead-neon-light

The Bus Stop DialoguesI.
A young man at the bus stop turns to me and softly asks "Why aren't you wearing shoes?" He taps the faded leather of his suedo-skin and his eyes smile in a gentle lilt before his mouth does.
I tell him that I like
to feel the earth breathe. That textures keep my mind alive
and ticking like a clock. I tell him that I'm trying to grow roots so my pale limbs can twist into a tree (the way L and I talked about it in therapy). I tell him that my soul is lonely and the ground is the only thing that's always there. I tell him that The Bus Stop Dialogues
by =methylated-spirit

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When hippos fly...

Thu Aug 20, 2009, 6:30 PM

Mood: Artistic
Listening to: Love Hurts - Incubus

Yes, this really is an entire journal about a story I wrote. I felt like there were too many things left unsaid in the story, things that might confuse people. Also, I feel really strongly about this one.
But first of all, a warning: I’ve never really cared about copyrights and stuff like that because I didn’t think my work was worth protecting, but this story is different. Here’s why:
I’m thinking of submitting this someday to a literary magazine, which would be the first step in actually getting published. (Thanks to everybody who encouraged me to write for more than fun!

) So, I hope nobody tries to claim this as their own in any way, because I’m actually looking forward to using this story. (Though if you tried, and I found it used somewhere else, I would have proof on DA that I submitted it first

)

Now, enough of that boring stuff. I guess the story’s probably a long ways off from publication, but I like the frame.
When I showed the story to a couple of friends, the biggest question was:
“What is it really about?”
So here’s my answer:
The story is about the Past versus the Present, and Love versus Destiny, and Dreams versus Reality, and Technology versus Nature, and Individuality versus Fitting in.
And though all those themes might seem great, I’m kind of disappointed by what it turned into, compared to what I expected out of the idea I started with. I wrote it in fragments of three days, and I think it shows in some parts of the story. I’ll probably edit this and try it with some major changes, but this one will always be the most spontaneous.
In other words, I hate editing.

Strangely, I got this idea from reading “The Hippopotamus” by T.S Eliot, and from my own feelings. All I’m going to say is I was feeling pretty low and hopeless about something at that point, so I poured my stark, emotionally loaded descriptions into this story. I like how it ends happily though.
What do you think of it? I'd love some feedback if you have time to read less that 2000 words...
Oh yeah, you should check out “The Hippopotamus” as well. It’s an awesome poem that inspires you to think in so many ways about so many things.
Hope you enjoy it (and my story!)

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Everything I write about is true - Except the parts that aren't.

Devious Info

Current Residence: Beside you
Interests: Writing stories and songs, playing piano, reading, sports, staying fit, singing, thinking.
Favourite band or musician: John Mayer, Maroon 5, Taylor Swift, ACDC, Rob Thomas, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Metallica, The Beatles
Favourite genre of music: Alt Rock/Classic Rock/Pop/Blues/Hip Hop
Favourite poet or writer: Charles Dickens, Katherine Mansfield, Lewis Carroll, Robert Frost, T.S Eliot
MP3 player of choice: Anything that records.
Skin of choice: Mine
Favourite game: Baseball (Real sports!!!)
Tools of the Trade: Pencil, camera, personal tragedies, trials, tribulations and triumphs

Website: http://www.sportingnews.com/blog/nblbmtat

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Comments

~The-Storybook Jul 17, 2009, 12:12:43 AM

You have an amazing gallery! The depth of your poems is stunning, enough to attract one who doesn't normally read things like this.

I'll have to come back and read more when I have time!

^-^

--
Antidaephobia:- The fear that somewhere, somehow, a duck is watching you. - Gary Larson

~JLithium Jul 19, 2009, 5:20:40 PM

Wow! Thanks so much! It really means a lot

--
Ever drifting down the stream--
Lingering in the golden gleam--
Life, what is it but a dream?

-Lewis Carroll

~The-Storybook Jul 19, 2009, 6:27:10 PM

^-^ Of course!

--
Antidaephobia:- The fear that somewhere, somehow, a duck is watching you. - Gary Larson

`SRSmith Jun 29, 2009, 8:33:44 AM

Thanks for the

on 'Tips...'

--
365Tomorrows - A new piece of short SciFi fiction each day
^lovetodeviate : Resources for Writers
dA is for the literary arts, too.

~MCRmyGirl May 30, 2009, 4:31:06 PM

Thank you much for the fav~

--
rema = Dr. Yaoi :3

Testing the limits and supplying your goods~<3

*TyC113 May 25, 2009, 4:58:57 PM

Thanks for the fave on "I'm Sorry". I really appreciate it.

--
Blackbird singing in the dead of night.

My youtube [link]

~crazysingergirl May 14, 2009, 3:42:24 PM

^{Thanks for the fave!}

--
^{making paper wishes and glass dreams

proud member of of =RawEm0tion, *BleedingHeartsPoetry, ~Critique-Me, =SongofthePoets, and *Writers-Club

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icon design by me =]}