larroney

Luis

141 Watchers293 Deviations

23.3K

Pageviews

Gallery

All

293 deviations

Featured

288 deviations

Found Poetry

13 deviations

Literature

I like this spot, because outs

I like this spot, because outside an intersection plays out its redacted dramatic small town theatrics. Doors do most of it; their open-close entranced rhythm, hydraulic tactics, pushed and then a pull from within to force bold entreaties street-wise. Noticed? No. Too busy people - frames invest in ventures fruitless now. Oh, a lone motion, no? Someone must, sure, try and take a pause and peek. No. If wrenched and split and pursed - inside a witches' coven, something new to see, an undressed group of lovers - this place might intersect anew. And failing that: a plague upon this earth! Its beauty fails from a lack of revivifying - our do

NaPoWriMo 2013

30 deviations

Scraps

38 deviations

The Project by larroney, literature

Literature

The Project

There is a gutsy finality to the way you add curls of cream to the cup; a knowing glint in the chintzy sheesha, second-hand, jewelled, meditating on the window-seat behind you. Beds of children form foamy chains against the azure blankets out there, above your head. Your glasses are windowpanes, screens to a lighter view. Curled in your belly is a shaman with the bold dimensions of a project. You stir.

Come On, Pilgrim by larroney, literature

Literature

Come On, Pilgrim

What are the lessons of today? Are they informed by vague hungry phantoms, jaw-slacked, who burr on the tongue, that singular nothingness before an itch shows? The truths which form beneath your skin are those which would find more knowledge in some other knowing mouth, ready for digestion. Have you travelled far today, pilgrim? Have your feet insisted anything of worth upon the forest floor, or drawn up the simple truths already buried there? Did you subject yourself to rain for miles of wandering only to come out again as the clouds hurried to hide their shame behind the hills? Have you been troubled by the whims of the broken twig, the tax

The Foxes by larroney, literature

Timeless rain, come carelessly by larroney, literature

The Farmer by larroney, literature

damp by larroney, literature

Literature

damp

Rain now abated. Drunk by ivy or absorbed into the happy sap of wild garlic - which grows in linear tracks in the woodland's heart. I find a fallen trunk for a bench - fire-flanked, its smaller arms outstretched in a plea to the wider plains and the white garlic flowers who do not listen. I don't know how long I have until the clouds reach their climax again. For now, this splinter-moment leaf-in-time, it all smells damp from this morning's deluge. But I can smell garlic too and my own musk and I am nearly convinced I am here.

For therapy, I found a place, by larroney, literature

Literature

For therapy, I found a place,

For therapy, I found a place, and that is all that's needed. Woods provide a soothing face - and should I need a quiet patch of peace, I'll find it where I'm bound to. Trees are goddesses of a Walden kind of dwelling. In the forest light is light, dark is dark, cycles are the cycles of becoming. Shh. My thicket is thick with it. So I pick all the lower leaves from the younger sapling trees (barely inches above the ground) so they shall grow before the rest. And when I come back in summer to treat my soul, I'll look for where the trees are tall, and leafless too, and that is where I'll find the truth.

Sonnet for Clara by larroney, literature

Literature

Sonnet for Clara

We stopped beside the railings, years above the harmless foaming spittle-waves, your hands inside your sleeves as though you knew the land would punish both of us before the shove - which came without your help. I threw myself into the breeze - you didn't wheeze or cry, but blankly watched your brittle lover fly into the floor. I hit the coastal shelf, survived the fall beyond all reasoned doubt. The people found me somewhere safe to dwell wherein my Clara couldn't raise a hell of my conditions. When I wanted out they let you in. I thought I'd said enough: 'Oh Clara, I do not deserve your love.'

larroney

Gallery

All

Featured

Found Poetry

I like this spot, because outs

NaPoWriMo 2013

Scraps

You bastard, I'm Through

The Project by larroney, literature

The Project

Come On, Pilgrim by larroney, literature

Come On, Pilgrim

The Foxes by larroney, literature

The Foxes

Timeless rain, come carelessly by larroney, literature

Timeless rain, come carelessly

The Farmer by larroney, literature

The Farmer

damp by larroney, literature

damp

For therapy, I found a place, by larroney, literature

For therapy, I found a place,

Sonnet for Clara by larroney, literature

Sonnet for Clara

I like this spot, because outs by larroney, literature

I like this spot, because outs