ALaughInHerEye

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The Path of Peace by ALaughInHerEye, literature

Literature

The Path of Peace

My oldest brother told me --the day I was disowned and one of the last times he ever spoke to me-- "My only advice to you is: follow the path of peace." When he hung up the phone I was stunned with the weight of his words. "The path of peace?" I asked myself. I began to cry at the utter lack of peace On my path in the years that led to this schism of blood and love. When the tears and trembling subsided, I was overwhelmed with a knowledge that this path --the one in which I am set free from the brokenness of my past and love that never quite felt like love-- Was the right path. When I started walking down that path, The one th

i smell colour by ALaughInHerEye, literature

A Play of Light by ALaughInHerEye, literature

Literature

A Play of Light

Today I watch. My children and dogs Play in a muddy creek And i am filled with joy. Reminded of a time When squishing silt between my toes Was both: Luxurious, And my own childish resistance Against a girl's role in 'good society.' As I lay here on a rock That was chiseled out of sandstone, By the murky creek below Red as ochre, I imagine the peoples Who came before me. Those dark skinned warriors and Grace filled souls, Labeled by 'good society' as savages, Once roamed and prayed here. They saw this red earth As Mother Earth's blood From the tear filled birthing of this land. As my mind lingers on my own wildness, Wit

Desert Flower by ALaughInHerEye, literature

Literature

Desert Flower

You see that I am fragile, You tell me it is lovely. You see that I've been broken Time and time again. Why can't you be gentle Set me down slowly? When you simply drop me I fracture, and am opened once again. The flowers in July, Hang on for dear life, Shining with washed out color, Bringing radiance to this dried up land. My lot in life is this desert. I love it despite myself. My colors are fading though. Awaiting the violent refreshment of a torrential rain. These passions I have, burst from me. I lose myself in the wind. I give of myself, so fully. Awaiting the one who in return Will set me down gently When his time

My Box and My Lover by ALaughInHerEye, literature

Forgetting to Breathe by ALaughInHerEye, literature

Literature

Forgetting to Breathe

There is a dance that is taking place Between my lungs and the air. Each time I forget to breathe It is like a moment of enlightenment Followed by a flutter of truth. My heart beats: My hearts forgets to beat. My eyes see: My eyes are lit darkly. In those moments of forgetting My lungs forget to breathe. I am lost so deeply in my neurotic That my autonomic is shut off. Like a switch made of passion and fear. My body stumbles out of the moment of suspended animation. I twist myself up, reach out and become a new being. This being that we are forced to dwell within, It is a being that is unbearably light. The weightiness of th

No Matter What by ALaughInHerEye, literature

Literature

No Matter What

I've watched you grow I've watched you shine I've watched you light up everything I've watched you smile I've watched you sing I've watched you dance to everything But rest my dear Sleep well my Madeleine For I love you No matter what Oh rest my dear Our love is bigger than All of your fears Close your eyes my little one I've watched you learn I've watched you cry I've watched you love everyone

Suenos Vascos by ALaughInHerEye, literature

The Quilt by ALaughInHerEye, literature

Literature

The Quilt

The Quilt The hand blown lamp that sits upon my pillow Topples over shining light Slanted on my ceiling My under eyes are painted on a dark rich plum shade Heavy lids half hide my eyes Reveal a sorrow that's hand made My quilt, hand sewn by my mother many years ago Envelopes me, holds me, in its folds and contours It is a cold embrace on a mattress with sheets overthrown My stomach sinks as darkness falls and I begin to mourn I never knew there was such beauty in embracing such deep sorrows It's as if the heaving tears give me strength and fill my empty hollows The contours of my sad, broken shell begin to fill with life As th

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The Path of Peace by ALaughInHerEye, literature

Literature

The Path of Peace

i smell colour by ALaughInHerEye, literature

A Play of Light by ALaughInHerEye, literature

Literature

A Play of Light

Desert Flower by ALaughInHerEye, literature

Literature

Desert Flower

My Box and My Lover by ALaughInHerEye, literature

Forgetting to Breathe by ALaughInHerEye, literature

Literature

Forgetting to Breathe

Mulatto Strings by ALaughInHerEye, literature

Literature

Mulatto Strings

There is a string caught in the tree outside my window Wrapping itself at one end; violently Unwrapping at the other. Perhaps a kite string belonging to the beauties next door. Mulatto Angels sent to fill holes in the Scenery. My Mulatto Beauty Dances miles away. But these kite fliers are here. Wagon in tow, Doll in hand. Revealing azure beauty in the cream colored strand. It wraps Twists Shines Flaps in the childsize tempest. Begs to be released. But its struggle is a part of mine. I wrap myself at One end. Violently struggling to unwrap at the other. And wonder Why there are not pearls laced through this tree.

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Confusion by Fearlessgirl95, literature

The Caged Bird by Natafin, literature

compulsive liar. by estallidos, literature

Literature

compulsive liar.

once i asked you your favourite colour, and you said, "the brown of your eyes," so i put in one green contact and told everyone that i came out of the womb as a factory defect, half-priced, damaged goods. - sometimes i am from canada and sometimes i am from england and sometimes i am from spain. i've carefully tempered my accents and plotted out my stories with yellow and purple coloured pencils on index cards. my origin changes like the seasons. "why do you lie to everyone?" you ask. "why not?" i reply. - i wear nametags that read "alicia" and "liana" and "samantha," because i want to know how it feels to be someon

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Mulatto Strings by ALaughInHerEye, literature

Literature

Mulatto Strings

ALaughInHerEye

About ALaughInHerEye

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Artist

United States
Deviant for 17 years
She / Her

Badges

My Bio

Current Residence: Fort Worth
Favourite genre of music: Neo-folk, Alt Country, Experimental
Favourite photographer: NO SE.
Operating System: mac OS-X
Shell of choice: Nautilus
Skin of choice: my own.
Favourite cartoon character: Red Fraggle or Mononoke
Personal Quote: I mean the way this poem is filled with trees and birds. www.panhala.net/Archive/Singapore.html

Favourite Visual Artist

Thrush Holmes, Pierre Bonnard, Pheadra

Favourite Movies

Elizabeth,Princess Mononoke, Boondock Saints, In America, Imaginary Heroes, Brother Sun Sister Moon,

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Mates of State, Devendra Banhart, Joanna Newsome, The Theater Fire, The Mountain Goats

Favourite Writers

Mary Oliver, CS Lewis, Garcia-Marquez, Sallinger, Neruda, Blake, Tolkien, L'Engle

Favourite Games

Poker

Favourite Gaming Platform

on stilts

Tools of the Trade

hands and eyes

Other Interests

Photography, Poetry, Magical Realist Fiction, Madeleine, Spirit

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ALaughInHerEye

Dec 20, 2006

Talking Heads

0 min read

listening to the Talking Heads makes me feel strange and silly, but i am doing it nevertheless. I seem to have forgotten how to write.  Somewhere in all the numbers I have lost my way through all the words. ______________________________________________________ ****************************************************** a little bit of what i am writing these days.... not poetry, just a part of me....................................................................................... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- I am taking a break from all of it.  I am worn out.  Worn in a way that creates vis

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ALaughInHerEye

Dec 3, 2006

there is an invisible clock in my wall ticking its

0 min read

words flow so quickly out of these keys that i am not sure what to do with them, but put them here. ********************************************** i am writing.  Not poetry, for the first time in years, and I mean YEARS, i am writing a narrative.  I have written them as expostiory narrative, but this is not the same.  this is not an intellecutal study of a particular concept put into narrative form, this is my heart and soul being born onto paper, i hope it is at least, it seems far too time consuming for it to be anything less. I am sitting on my bed listening to the perfect timing of a clock that does not exist. there is a tick that has

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ALaughInHerEye

Nov 29, 2006

First String is E, Second String is B

0 min read

So today i decided to stop staring daunted at my guitar that i got for my birthday and actually play this much desired instrument.  So i sat down and tuned it for 20 minutes, haha i am a perfectionsist.... And then i played...  I used this book, and it starts you playing one string at a time.  I thought it was going to be really elementary, except that it has been so long since i read sheet music i kept on making mistakes on notes.  And i was humbled. Then i took the book serioulsy, and i got through 6 pages of lessons, and now i am practicing songs with 6 notes and multiple time signatures.  It is nice to feel like i have a goal: the next pa