id1

Bashō Lover

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Not Bleeding by id1, literature

Trampire by id1, literature

Literature

Trampire

Trampire South of twitching lip and bristle, Promises of glist'ning gristle, Corded tendons, muscled bars 'neath pallid skin repleat with scars, No wounds I'll leave for sure tonight depraved under an orange light on hapless homeless such as these sad drifters on the urban breeze, Not so unlike myself they'd say should they have lived another day but, die they do and will again to sate my lust for red champagne, This restaurant, this wine bar bleak it's humour rancid, tongue in cheek or teeth in neck where I'm involved, another murder deigned unsolved, He reeks this one, repleat with dirt, a snotty nose a sodd

Alone by id1, literature

Literature

Alone

Your warmth issues from a tap, Coursing currents tease the down inside my knees like wayward hair, inviting silent protestations, They're merely my attempts to mask the sweetness of this lie as stark enamel shrouds this fantasy where cotton sheets should be, Behind the steam shroud bolt and lock of this make-believe hotel room I'm with you, undistracted, undisturbed by phones and false acclaims of everlasting chastity, Here in fields of ripples repleat with bubble poppies we are one at last, Intertwined in foetal content you coat me, choke me, I drink and draw you in without regret or fear because my hands are yours, m

Far by id1, literature

Literature

Far

There is no rhythm save the silent and eternal expectation, of a far flung shoreline, The hiss of hobo sand grains deciding in mid-air where next to rendezvous with fate, There's nothing here, It's there, with her and all the dreams I gifted, Sat on stones worn smooth by tears and time, accompanied by sea-borne shrieks of unrequited want she sits, My bottle sunk and ink run grey, the message lost the feeling black as ever.

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Looking Up... by id1, literature

The Woman by id1, literature

Literature

The Woman

We knew her only as 'The Woman' though, Ethel was her given name; one torn from telephone books past for fear or retribution by association, 'A murderess' the head-scarves whispered, sibilant through clacking dentures, Below those wagging chins I'd sit pop-eyed and lap the stream of lies they squirted down their housecoats, all saggy tits, stretched seams and sardines; Sour, that's what they were I reckon, sour and bitter, hip-stretched hags, desperate to draw their peers attention from their dishmop orbiting lives, She had orange curtains, thick velour and stained by coffee, Reg always left his coffee on the cill to cool, 'D

Jack by id1, literature

Literature

Jack

He was in a vacuum I imagine, caused by sharp intakes of breath which nagged the bronchitis and emphesima afflicted audience around him, My mother was handing him a baby and the coughing hyaenas who clamoured like starving trout at the boards disapproved, Miturating Mavis, on account of her smell, Dreary Doreen, on account of her depression, Tea Towel Thelma, on account of her tea-towel, He was filthy, Oil cracked and camel wet, perspiring nicotine and diesel in equal measure, a carcinogen on two legs; I wasn't there in spirit, but I can picture the scene as well as anyone that was, The lop-sided smile, toothless even before

Where the Sky is Never Blue... by id1, literature

Literature

Where the Sky is Never Blue...

Upon a heather bed there sat, Inconsequential, chewing fat, On mountain top o'er hazy shroud wrapped in a humid, pollen cloud, Full of thought, save for the grass they pluck and pull to make time pass, a flower, a boat, a tickling reed grown gingerly from guilts tough seed, Occasionally their wanting meets with pupils still on green stained seats, writhing still as pleadings pass between their wall of sugared glass, So close, just inches, yet as far as sixty miles by train or car, Their answers to this quandary lost on winds that promise rain and frost, His promises, made past, before both feet were nailed upon the floor, Ye

Fuck Me by id1, literature

Literature

Fuck Me

Stood before me, framed in beige, She stood in neon blue delight, Flickering, an aura strained, Her conscience battling lust with right, Just seconds from betrayed desire, Morality a distant dream, Her angel sat on shoulder perched burned quickly with a silent scream, No kiss as yet, we simply stared, Our thoughts now fucking in the air between two faces, lost in love, One final act we'd yet to share, The quiet corridor in which we stood, our only chance to feel, To break our dreaming chains now wet, To make our visons meld, be real, The gentle long embrace foreseen came not to pass that summer day, A scene which nightly I'd

David - Extract No. 1 by id1, literature

Literature

David - Extract No. 1

Her Eyes are Closed The carpet smells the same, despite however many tears have dampened what we laid, Her eyes are closed now, but six am brings light to which I cannot be a friend, This sick soap opera will be short lived, for that I thank all the gods that have forsaken me, She sees me though, beyond her smudged and twitching veils, Not crouched upon the windowsill as desperate as a keyless cat, She sees me at her side, Beyond her nightmares there remains the smile we shared, My touch as real as that of the pillow upon which she smiles unto herself, One hand upon her shoulder, Imagining a wafer thin vision of us co

Twilight by id1, literature

Literature

Twilight

A silent meadow murmurs soundly, Whispered breeze through sighing sedge, Nightjars sing a lullaby from nests within their fortress hedge, A cornucopia of daisies staring skyward at the moon, their dewdrop tears betraying sorrow, sun returning none too soon, In twilight sadness following their benefactors path to rest below the beckoning horizon, bending slowly to the west, A Pipistrelle observes their dreaming echoes within petals tight, In graceful arcs she blindly hunts for foolish butterflies in flight, Cool winds descend to tickle poppies paralysed in form, they drift, giggling at dandy clocks that moonlight waltz a the

Dark Sibling by id1, literature

Autumn by id1, literature

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Rain by OniZai, literature

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One Photo A Week No. 1 by id1, visual art

One Photo A Week No. 1

id1

About id1

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South Georgia & S. Sandwich Islands
Deviant for 17 years

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id1

Sep 29, 2006

Do I re-open a stock account or will I get all wanky about it again and cry?

6 votes

Yes

Jupiter Tit Sparrow

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id1

Sep 27, 2006

Reflecting...

0 min read

Do not go gentle...        Do not go gentle into that good night,        Old age should burn and rave at close of day;        Rage, rage against the dying of the light.        Though wise men at their end know dark is right,        Because their words had forked no lightning they        Do not go gentle into that good night.        Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright        Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,        Rage, rage against the dying of the light.        Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,        And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,        Do not go gentle in

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id1

Sep 27, 2006

Sometimes

0 min read

... someone else simply states it more clearly. "Ordinary World" Came in from a rainy Thursday On the avenue Thought I heard you talking softly I turned on the lights, the TV And the radio Still I can't escape the ghost of you What has happened to it all? Crazy, some are saying Where is the life that I recognize? Gone away But I won't cry for yesterday There's an ordinary world Somehow I have to find And as I try to make my way To the ordinary world I will learn to survive Passion or coincidence Once prompted you to say "Pride will tear us both apart" Well now pride's gone out the window Cross the rooftops Run away Lef