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Literature
and all the hands i am to hold
under the fading bar lights
i want see life-tempered hands
deliver brewskies to the table
help me clasp the necklace in place
and give it one caress, for measure
i hope a panther paw reaches out
to poke me in the rib, in ambush
welcoming the thunder of laughter
let me feel the press of reassurance,
unfeel the lecherous stroke of misluck
on the window pane, to the symphony
of rain, scoring pictures and emblems
curled into the lexicon of merry vandals
remove shrapnel from my tortoiseshell
and combs my hair as night sleeps again
:iconHarperQ:HarperQ
:iconharperq:HarperQ 2 2
Literature
Home
I don't think it's strange that I remember where you live(d)
no stranger than the groaning of the entryway floor
Street names and numbers snake through the sieve of memory
but I can make a mold of the precise corners and points of turn
Someone else has taken up residence on the second floor
a taller, younger, less stubbly someone who smiles with diffidence
But I understand the floors don't play in quite the right key
when lighter feet brush across them in the unadorned darkness
The days have survived you, and some, are survived by you
despite threads of dark hair hiding in patio doors, behind curtains
With palms open, I pray the land treats you like someone familiar
and the home you searched for sings to you with meaning
:iconHarperQ:HarperQ
:iconharperq:HarperQ 1 5
Literature
The Days
Monday
Temporary life
Fending off furlough
Legs grow back anew
Movement
Tuesday
Ticker tape
Boats come ashore
Applause fringes the race
Release
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:iconharperq:HarperQ 2 7
Literature
Grace
You returned with quail eggs
I framed you as a madwoman
A pinch or a drop perhaps
But you hold the fainting dove
and will it back to good
:iconHarperQ:HarperQ
:iconharperq:HarperQ 2 0
Literature
Watch
Night announces your arrival
and your many faces
the turpentine can't touch
I'd forgotten you had a voice
until you opened your mouth
and let winged insects fly
This could end, in one move
but you occupy the closet
watch sleep take me
and the walls slant inward
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:iconharperq:HarperQ 2 0
Literature
The Element of Surprise
I find myself
in strange places sometimes
An old grandfather clock
chimes in sync with my heart
When I prop my feet upon
the recliner, creaky as it is,
I see the faded, holey socks
wrapped around
Like newspaper bundling chicken cutlets
purchased at the grocery store
The elastic clinches around my ankle,
too tight, no airflow, too constricting
My finger wedges between flesh and fabric,
a means of reinforcement,
decompression
Just how a fallen trunk raises
to reveal an imprint, an indentation
The story is much the same here
It is the element of surprise
that dizzies my eyes and lights up my mind
Somewhere between these white-washed walls
and rust-colored shag carpeting
lies a heart of gold
inside you, inside me
I'd rather it not leap out,
but instead take the time to grow,
to nourish its own self
and the garden surrounding
The element of surprise leaves me winded,
sometimes disembodied
when I jump out of my own skin
From the outside I see the irises, the lashes,
the hands, and the feet
A
:iconHarperQ:HarperQ
:iconharperq:HarperQ 2 1
Literature
Proofreading
Proofreading all marks
upon your body of text
They are not typos
No, love, they are testaments
heralding of better days
:iconHarperQ:HarperQ
:iconharperq:HarperQ 2 0
Literature
For April, In Blue
I know others would praise how strikingly the green
brings out your dew-drop eyes, the brimming of your being
in the way grass cranes to majesty unmatched in a single day
But I have always thought you most resplendent in blue
where you hatch from the shell of morning, in full regalia
Velvet mantle sweeping over the trail carved as you wander
deluge of life fluttering from the hollows of flowered steps
Juno sends her finest gifts in gently wrapped parcels
the birds and their babies sing unto you and yours
But please don’t abide this silly thought, or only in part
please take it with the spoonful of cream in your tea
You wear every color like it always belonged to you
and you become what you always have been
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:iconharperq:HarperQ 6 7
Literature
Skin
I don’t know the back of my hand
the identity of the marauder
living in tandem with me
I awoke on a Tuesday
to find a mark had connived
its way into existence
Sometimes I can’t help flexing
or flinching
a twinge of discomfort as
two commuters pushed
together
pretend to be canyons
and consciences apart
I reach for things
that are not there
when I try to hold on
I cannot find a grip
I draw snow angels
on the open range
of my legs and arms
and in the window rays
I think I see a glimmer
of something beneath
the surface
:iconHarperQ:HarperQ
:iconharperq:HarperQ 1 3
Literature
Nobody Talks
Nobody talks about the after
the aunt, once-removed from dewy faces
splashed on the sleazy gossip-stirrers
in New York’s endangered newsstands
It wasn’t meant to be an unveiling,
or a shrouding, for the public
The opinion exchange didn’t suffer
but there was no garden of cash
The real horror is, everyone forgot
what she looked like before the event
and now nobody talks about either
She is still interred somewhere between
the pages of classifieds and obituaries
:iconHarperQ:HarperQ
:iconharperq:HarperQ 1 1
Literature
Drink
                           Water, just water
           You swam an entire channel
She drinks from the glass
:iconHarperQ:HarperQ
:iconharperq:HarperQ 1 7
Literature
Laughing with Death
There are worse things.
Than this?
I can think of three right now.
Such as?
You could be forced to eat parsnips
for the rest of eternity.
Perspective. But I haven’t a stomach
anymore. What else?

You could be forgotten by the world.
I wish my wife would forget me already.
Have you seen those ghastly flowers she
leaves upon my grave? And the last one?

I could steal your wife and comfort her
in the cold. And she’d be all the more glad
to forget the likes of you, you bastard.
Don’t you dare touch her, you ruddy fool!
I’ve got friends here who could turn
a treacherous arse as you to stone!

Calm, brother. You know I’d never commit
such treason. You were the unsavory one,
remember?
Ah. Indeed. And I still am.
:iconHarperQ:HarperQ
:iconharperq:HarperQ 2 1
Literature
Sunday Morning, DMV
A show of hands
Skinny, bangled arm
bayside
bearing no pores and
no care for catching sun
The gentleman
near the corridor
tanned, bent at the elbow
We are all here for deliverance
Strangers huddled in a space
to listen and perhaps even hear
each other's sniffles or prayers
in the morning, interrupted
I'm thinking about angel-hair pasta
and harp strings and which
brushes closer to the membrane
of heaven
And how squid ink stains teeth
with grotesque and beautiful
impermanence
We are all here for redemption
and for self-preservation
in our own unapologetic ways
:iconHarperQ:HarperQ
:iconharperq:HarperQ 2 6
Literature
Fiends
A fine pair of fiends
Dishwater girl, soapscum boy
Love in the gutter
:iconHarperQ:HarperQ
:iconharperq:HarperQ 1 3
Literature
Dive
Somewhere, the scent of pine
nocturnal, moonlit memory
leads me to your harbor
Where you sit in reverie
wrapped in a shawl of winter
the sand hugging your knees
Quiet plays a captain at full-sail
and all creatures its passengers
leaving language to the waves
As the world floats in gentle dark
a drop of eternity falls into our lap
shared between the two of us
Leagues of yesterday and before
stitched together to make this moment
I hold the composition in my hand
Days for swimming long shelved away
the ocean hums to the hymn of gulls
in eventide, we dive, deep, and begin
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:iconharperq:HarperQ 5 2
Literature
this body
talk of ingrown hairs
scars crossing the forearm
cellulite dimpling both thighs
stretchmarks of dubious conception
they make for poor
conversation
crew necks and long sleeves
sweaters enduring 90 degrees
drawers full of black and black
passed off as a statement
and is only wrong by half
hide the inconsistencies
honesty quashed beneath
a pair of boots
this body
eats me up
I carry more weight on
this body
than days before
this body
has climbed
mountains
this body
has survived
falls
this body sometimes
forgets
forsakes its own soul
But never forgets
itself
diplomacy with this
body
prickled by emerging stubble
upper echelon of
twenty-something
expressed on this
body
say it into the mirror
say it, say it, say it
this body is
mine
this body is
mine
this body is-
:iconHarperQ:HarperQ
:iconharperq:HarperQ 3 1

Favourites

Literature
weeping angels
i saw a sight i never lived
a day in june, we walked out of
shaded rooms and went to the edge of the city,
the boardwalk brushing the palms of our hands,
the sun glinting in
infinite pieces across the water.
the strap of your bag slipped off
your shoulder as you leaned forward.
there were no words; i watched the
wind ripple the sea. you closed your eyes and listened
to the waves.
birds, flowers, traffic sounds:
sitting inside the rhythms.
look at me, i said. what's to see?
you turned a slight smile.
maybe everything, you said.
i think
i see everything in you.
searching for paint palettes
black and white photographs
stuck to my fingertips,
icy and motionless.
that summer day we climbed a crest
in the churchyard, i paused to
glance over my shoulder at the carnations
and you moved on.
the next moment i looked, i already knew
you
were gone.
turn back, i mouthed.
please,
come back.
:iconPatchworkLynx:PatchworkLynx
:iconpatchworklynx:PatchworkLynx 18 6
Literature
Understanding
A hint and a seductive glance
A mutual understanding
Two trails of thought coming together
Two people sharing themselves
With each other
:iconGhostOfTheEmptyGrave:GhostOfTheEmptyGrave
:iconghostoftheemptygrave:GhostOfTheEmptyGrave 12 8
Literature
The slipping world (24/30)
Everything was diagonal:
the fall
the vertigo
the fall
the blurs
the numbness
the road
the fall
the rain
the stance
the life
the beat
the directions
the heartbeat
the fall
and I
kept on sliding
forwards
and down
falling
:iconoviedomedina:oviedomedina
:iconoviedomedina:oviedomedina 3 0
Literature
Diminish
Pages diminish
Brittle hours; brief repose
Trickles of ink, coaxed 
:iconbyrds-of-midnight:byrds-of-midnight
:iconbyrds-of-midnight:byrds-of-midnight 15 2
Mature content
Fifteen :iconbyrds-of-midnight:byrds-of-midnight 9 4
Illyria :iconmuseinblack:MuseInBlack 242 13
Literature
City Worms
When water washed over Minneapolis in sheets
I made sure not to step on the earth worms covering the sidewalk.
They were everywhere, at least ten per sidewalk square;
I had never known there was so much life in this city,
but here it was, crawling from the concrete to prostrate themselves
beneath my feet.
:iconBeItLacking:BeItLacking
:iconbeitlacking:BeItLacking 5 3
Mature content
Sunday :iconbyrds-of-midnight:byrds-of-midnight 8 0
Literature
Schlegel
Vagaries that bind
Don't you know the formula?
Give it time - you'll learn. 
:iconbyrds-of-midnight:byrds-of-midnight
:iconbyrds-of-midnight:byrds-of-midnight 6 6
Literature
Band
His, silver; mine, gold
Inner band (intimacy) -
Secret engraving.
:iconbyrds-of-midnight:byrds-of-midnight
:iconbyrds-of-midnight:byrds-of-midnight 7 0
Literature
cogito ergo sum
a birth of indecision on the night of inception,
like every morning after the fact we realize
that this is not what we wanted -
but rocks on pavement tumble like water down the stream,
the ocean on the edges of our fingertips,
the breath of wind inside our lungs - the elements decide
and we become the material for their apotheosis,
self-knowing, self-being, true;
life at the end of our abyss, drawn together
and we can think we don't believe
that ending is a fate worth jealousy, but yes
attached to darkness we are significance incarnate
and like space the oxygen is so very far apart.
:iconcreativelycliche:creativelycliche
:iconcreativelycliche:creativelycliche 8 8
Baroque :iconanna-lakisova:anna-lakisova 509 36 redhead :iconanna-lakisova:anna-lakisova 3,554 165 I yearn :iconjessamar:JessaMar 13 4
Literature
Reoccurring
(Opening)
Crestfallen cameos
Creep into
Decloaked dreams
Nothing untoward occurs
Just warm camaraderie
Offscreen
Unseen
(End scene)
:iconbyrds-of-midnight:byrds-of-midnight
:iconbyrds-of-midnight:byrds-of-midnight 9 2
Literature
callegrafia
they gave me paint for this reason—
plastic wires tangled with good luck charms in her pocket,
empty handed but for a sketchbook (one page
a tribute to van gogh's blue, the rest stained with gray)
the dusty jeans and tattered shoes
mark her as a
rebel, reveling in the un-knowledge of the flawless.
here's what it means to have scars:
crouched on an uneven platform, holding
half-recklessly to a metal gutter and
marking feathers on tarred dust
tal vez todos los artistas son
delincuentes / maybe all artists
are criminals &
maybe my meaning gets lost in translation
(but that's the point of being flawed)
from this low on the ground it
doesn't seem so new
where new is a synonym for what's left without you
no hables esas palabras / it's all third-person now
the second i saw _ _ _ i knew i had never escaped
there has to be some reason i love the sound of the word ayúdame
:iconPatchworkLynx:PatchworkLynx
:iconpatchworklynx:PatchworkLynx 24 9

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HarperQ's Profile Picture
HarperQ
Currently based abroad. Trying to work on writing more consistently. Mostly as an outlet for myself but also to improve my overall ability.
I pass the same woman everyday (except Fridays) on the way to and from work. She carries an umbrella and wears black pull-up sleeves, even when the sky is at its moodiest, all cemented over in stony overcast grey. To keep her pale complexion untouched by the sun, I imagine.

I kept that thought on the left side of my brain yesterday, while the
right side fixated on the man casually strolling down the sidewalk
carrying an open can of beer. Public intoxication is not a crime here, and it’s pretty wonderful. Too bad I’m kicking that habit again.

It’s looking as though I will inevitably be leaving this place in a few
months. I suppose I could stay on, drift to Tokyo, and live in a cube. But I don’t know what good would come of it. Most of the people I knew when I first came here have moved on or put down roots. It feels like I’ve still got my floaties on.

Time is rapidly winding down, and I am entirely without direction.

I ponder where I’ll go from here.

Peace Corps is the only thing that's been given any serious thought. Malta has a nice ring in my mind. Considered Spain with fondness. It’s not impossible to get a working visa for New Zealand or Australia. Maybe if I hadn’t spurned that former flame, twice, I’d be in Australia now.

My friend said I should move to Florida. Somewhere warm sounds nice.

No frostbite. No blizzards. Might feel my heart begin to thaw. Could keep those floaties, too.

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:iconoviedomedina:
oviedomedina Featured By Owner 2 days ago
Thank you for the favorite!
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:iconxxskullcandy713xx:
XxSkullcandy713xX Featured By Owner Apr 18, 2017  Student Writer
Hi there! Thank you for joining :iconxx-book-worms-xx: I'm so glad you decided to become a part of our group! I hope you enjoy your stay with us, if you have any questions please don't hesitate to ask me ^^

:bulletgreen: Please look at this -> fav.me/db2i8tb for information on folders :bulletgreen:

Have fun and enjoy your stay with us at Xx-Book-Worms-xX :D
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inkedacrylic Featured By Owner Apr 5, 2017   General Artist
Thank you for the fave! :faint:
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:icongridtakno:
gridtakno Featured By Owner Apr 3, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the watch
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:iconcatloversjt:
catloversjt Featured By Owner Apr 3, 2017   Writer
thank you for the watch! <3 I really appreciate it, and I hope you have a wonderful week :heart:
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