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More from ~Avallynh

joey i want him unpoetic and graceless and impossible, rawboned and alive with the thrum of stubborn, stupid strength, arrogant and cocksure and good, with a roughscuffed heart of gold that longs for home and loves whole and pure and hopeless with a wanting that makes the words all tangle and catch in his throat but flow warm and willing from fingertips that know me better, with a rogue's twistlipped lightning smile and a laugh that rings echoes of the child he wasn't long enough, and eyes always, always burning fire-under-glass: brighter by the weight of the world on his shoulders or my dreams between his lashes, gold whispers blinking slow by da
stranger you came clinging to the grace of a summer storm's
underbreath, came cold hands and tired eyes
and a bruised lip i'd longed to kiss
when you stumbled on night listing
too far to the left,
 cross my thistledown garden by the dusks
 that wilt between, i'll keep my door open:
 your lady in sepia doesn't live here, only
 the ghosts and i -- and Grandmother,
 in the far-between wanders when she can
 remember --

but i've a place where you can
hang your wayworn bones to dry, and
if ever they come calling, i'll not
tell them where you sleep. and you stayed awhile.
promised i'm not mine to give,
anymore.
leavetaking i.
the world is brighter where
dregs of strangers' revels remain --
i keep this half-light for my own.

ii.
i'll stay until the wind sighs a scotch-and-smoke
cliché, til the Muscadet's slipped from the lip
of my wayward
hello.(i know you're there before you do.)
iii.
your night is told in
patchouli-pulse wanders; mine,
in whorls of liqueur-breath. come
close and i'll find the warp
through the weft, the trails telling tales
in synaesthesia --
Platinum Blonde's been 'round and gone.

 iv.
(-- closer, find syllables strewn
 in an exhale's wake; stolen from my throat-
 ful of careless farewells, spin and sway
in aeternum when the tide goes out for the last time, the drowning sun will claim their shipwrecks and kindle our
last sunset on rotting hulls and bloodrust sails that once fortune and twice ocean's heart forswore.

and all their lost treasures will burn rhapsodic, weave
strands of wonder through night descending as the stars
call the whelmed ones all home
to voyages' end

when the tide goes out for the last time, storms will sunder the pale yoke and bid the waves bring
stolen worlds to surface, splendors of once dredged from the fathoms when poseidon yields.

and I will crest the riptide
at a dreaming wander: silver threads of sirensong
held

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for excellent writing

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August 14, 2011
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leavetaking

by ~Avallynh

i.
the world is brighter where
dregs of strangers' revels remain --
i keep this half-light for my own.

ii.
i'll stay until the wind sighs a scotch-and-smoke
cliché, til the Muscadet's slipped from the lip
of my wayward
hello.
    (i know you're there before you do.)

iii.
your night is told in
patchouli-pulse wanders; mine,
in whorls of liqueur-breath. come
close and i'll find the warp
through the weft, the trails telling tales
in synaesthesia --
    Platinum Blonde's been 'round and gone.

      iv.
      (-- closer, find syllables strewn
      in an exhale's wake; stolen from my throat-
      ful of careless farewells, spin and sway
      and beg you stay.)

v.
time enough for a kiss-
and-never-tell, for a stumbling waltz
to the dissonance of crystal-shatter odes
to the summerlong i knew you --

we were(n't) meant for more than this.

vi.
morning goes right through you,

and breathes a thousand fortunes in-
to shards of (our) stranger starfall.
:iconavallynh:
leavetaking
(c) Avallynh on deviantART, 2011
:spotlight-left:EDIT 16/2/12: A Daily Deviation, courtesy of, and with fondest thanks to, *the-photographicpoet and ^Beccalicious:spotlight-right:

scenes from a parting.
goodbyes are overrated, and i never broke that wineglass.
fictionfictionfiction

this one's been a longlong time coming.


Comments and Critique

I'd love your thoughts on
    :bulletblack: the feel of the piece; the imagery: does it tell half a story?
    :bulletblack: the flow, from splice to splice -- there is meant to be an element of slight, only slight disjunction.
    :bulletblack: the ending, and what it leaves you with.

    Also, I'd love a better title if you've got one to suggest. :heart:

Critique for :iconthewrittenrevolution:


Copyright Notice

This work is copyrighted and is NOT part of the public domain. It is NOT to be copied, printed, edited, transmitted, archived, reproduced or redistributed in any manner without my prior written permission.

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Daily Deviation

Given 2012-02-16
leavetaking by ~Avallynh Suggester Writes: This is one of those poems where the overall impact is heightened by the semantics, the use of intricate and beautiful lexis, and the imagery throughout which leaves you almost breathless. It's wonderfully written, with the format and structure again leaving the reader feeling sensitive and touched. ( Suggested by ~the-photographicpoet and Featured by ^Beccalicious )
:iconbeyondjen:
*BeyondJen Feb 21, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Oh gosh. I'm so glad this got a DD! This is really lovely in the somber-est of ways.
Your use of line breaks really added depth to this, and your imagery is beautiful.

Truly a wonderful piece and very deserving of that DD. Congrats, m'dear. :heart:

--
The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. -Ernest Hemingway
Reply
:iconavallynh:
~Avallynh Feb 21, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
thanks a bunch, you. :heart:
it was the first thing i actually finished in months and months and it took a heck of a lot of work and about ten billion and thirty seven versions to get to this, so i'm utterly gratified at the DD.


--
Because I dream in colours you don't have names for.
Reply
:iconbeyondjen:
*BeyondJen Feb 21, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Bunches of welcomes. I thoroughly enjoyed it, identified with it too. :heart:

--
The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. -Ernest Hemingway
Reply
:iconladyofgaerdon:
=LadyofGaerdon Feb 18, 2012  Professional Writer
Oh, this is beyond beautiful. Congrats on the extremely well-earned DD.

--
I worship comments/replies. Just slowly.:worship: :work:

Poetry Admin at =DailyLitDeviations Note me suggestions!

Join us! :salute: #Lit-Visual-Alliance

"If you met yourself now when you first joined you'd be terrified!" - =Evlydia
Reply
:iconavallynh:
~Avallynh Feb 19, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
thank you so much! :heart:

--
Because I dream in colours you don't have names for.
Reply
:iconladyofgaerdon:
=LadyofGaerdon Mar 6, 2012  Professional Writer
:heart:

--
I worship comments/replies. Just slowly.:worship: :work:

Poetry Admin at =DailyLitDeviations Note me suggestions!

Join us! :salute: #Lit-Visual-Alliance

"If you met yourself now when you first joined you'd be terrified!" - =Evlydia
Reply
:iconfuzzyhoser:
*FuzzyHoser Feb 17, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Congrats on the DD, darling.
This is one of my favorites of yours. :heart:

--
I take your entrance back,
can't let you roam inside my head.
----------------------------------------------
#HumanConditions#Poets-and-Warriors#The-Black-Hole
Reply
:iconavallynh:
~Avallynh Feb 17, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
thank youuuu.
it was one of those things that i spent ages and ages on, so this is immensely rewarding. :heart:

--
Because I dream in colours you don't have names for.
Reply
:iconfuzzyhoser:
*FuzzyHoser Feb 17, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Mmhmm...you seem grateful.
I think that's one of my favourite things about certain poets,
they appreciate adoration....they don't expect it. :heart:

--
I take your entrance back,
can't let you roam inside my head.
----------------------------------------------
#HumanConditions#Poets-and-Warriors#The-Black-Hole
Reply
:iconavallynh:
~Avallynh Feb 17, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
me, i continue to be surprised by it.
how's the weekend shaping up?


--
Because I dream in colours you don't have names for.
Reply
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promised i'm not mine to give,
anymore.promised by ~Avallynh
once. the world was wider, once: strewn bright
and willing to a fingertip's beckoning, riddled
with roads that spilled in breathless wanders
to otherlands of reverie. i remember

the promise i made a wild changeling child
before i bade her hush and say goodnight --

i've not woken her since: she sleeps and i steal
her spun-glass dreams for my garden
of wilt, ever longing to hold
the ghost-dance that spins by their dying light.

:thumb285576455:

once. by ~Avallynh
leavetaking i.
the world is brighter where
dregs of strangers' revels remain --
i keep this half-light for my own.

ii.
i'll stay until the wind sighs a scotch-and-smoke
cliché, til the Muscadet's slipped from the lip
of my wayward
hello.(i know you're there before you do.)
iii.
your night is told in
patchouli-pulse wanders; mine,
in whorls of liqueur-breath. come
close and i'll find the warp
through the weft, the trails telling tales
in synaesthesia --
Platinum Blonde's been 'round and gone.

 iv.
(-- closer, find syllables strewn
 in an exhale's wake; stolen from my throat-
 ful of careless farewells, spin and sway
leavetaking by ~Avallynh
summer-boy, birdy. cusp of september,
summer burns on drunken driftwood pyres breathing
pale rhapsodies of you & i to a vagabond wander
of stars over stolen shores: there,

you spin me
wilder in smouldersilk tangles, falter-step through
strayed echoes of a mandolin waltz to a worldedge singed brazen, trembled
bright with a waking of storms. there,

we troth
wonder and a wanting and bones ripened lovelier
for boardwalk lights and grenadine heat
to that far place between
your sand and my sky.

[incandescent,] we break
with the thunder and home with the tide
to part without a promise on the cinder-wind, but

i've smokethreads through my hair and
the holsummer-boy, birdy. by ~Avallynh
stranger you came clinging to the grace of a summer storm's
underbreath, came cold hands and tired eyes
and a bruised lip i'd longed to kiss
when you stumbled on night listing
too far to the left,
 cross my thistledown garden by the dusks
 that wilt between, i'll keep my door open:
 your lady in sepia doesn't live here, only
 the ghosts and i -- and Grandmother,
 in the far-between wanders when she can
 remember --

but i've a place where you can
hang your wayworn bones to dry, and
if ever they come calling, i'll not
tell them where you sleep. and you stayed awhile.stranger by ~Avallynh
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