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About Deviant curtisMale/Australia Recent Activity
Deviant for 13 Years
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daylong the waves peeled left -
monotonously perfect sets crept
around the rocky crop of reef.
out back sat sparsely worded boys,
eyes horizonward, paddling lazily over breaks,
or kicking under to follow the current,
out the primal drag of darkened rip.
an untracked coastal strip
scrubbed windbare in early spring -
the antipodean sun sunk to jut
beneath its baleful furrowed brow.
another wave and then unspoken nods
to smokedried socks, campfired and coldbeered,
boasts of past year's slysmiled beachblonde conquests,
the grainy mixtaped pleasure played loud,
and last night's meal again, uncaring.
three measured strokes, and tanned arms
flow sinuous weight forward,
balanced into evenplanted stance -
fins cut the grey face open easily
along its length to shore's banked break.
feet now sandsunk, velcroed leg ripped and mane
shoved facebackward, i turned to see your last wave,
that fearsome, casual talent on display,
and saw only whitewash - a secretive expanse
thundering in unceasing emeral
:iconsolniger:solniger 0 5
going away
you were always going away
from that wintering beginning,
forest lost in the dark months -
a frigid glimmer
of willo'thewisp light glimpsed
faintly through trees.
unhaltingly i followed
your twisting dance deeper.
no string tethered me to return -
there was nothing left behind save the path,
and your dusklit figure lay ahead.
you were my cross,
nailed into darkened noon,
wrists blunt bolt fixed
as fall king tides rise,
an inkblue openmouthed inrush
of plummeting oceanmute howl.
from the ocean you first invoked me -
your ache, a plaintive lullaby,
draped whispered silks
over nightmare's jagged granite crags.
there was such calm in the eye
we took always with us.
outside banshees writhed, shrieked,
incanted wild demands.
and outside your pane, mirrored,
rain slid close,
comfortably familiar fingers
over the welcoming face of sunset forever.
a lone songbird began the twilight symphony.
your sunbudded opening into day
and inevitable unpetalling
was woven of soft lavender gossamer -
seeds b
:iconsolniger:solniger 0 6
rooms cerulean
our sheet top fevered dream, epiphany
of fragrances; the frangipani blooms
in white of salt on sundried skin; the sea
floors glassy ceilings hung on unwalled rooms
cerulean - a sky afire that twists
the sticky tar beneath our blistered feet.
late afternoon, the wind that daylong lists
turns southerly, dark clouds conceal the sweet
relief of rain that silences the drone
of shrill cicadas. pregnant drops then bring  
quick ends to reveries - we drift alone
into the softlit linen evening.
but all this celebration is struck dumb
by chill austere formality to come.
:iconsolniger:solniger 0 11
roots by solniger roots :iconsolniger:solniger 0 0 sky power by solniger sky power :iconsolniger:solniger 0 2
the third daughter
the third daughter
sometimes not even the terminal cynicism that tiring of the world's illgotten pleasures brings can prepare you for experience. even amongst the drab flat lifeless qualities entailing mundane existence there are pockets of rarified beauty that steal breath and words away. that was how i found her. alone, entire, in no need of assurance or handholding. perfect.
babyfine straight long blonde hairs sliding one over the other, a slippery cascade framing her face. tiny wellformed features completed, as though age could only inflict damage - that long downhill slide from here into base wormfood.
small long elegant fingers even now, tipped with thin manicured nails, unpolished and pink. she smelt of purity and unconscious, untapped budding sexuality. angelic, almost regal in posture. she was only twelve then, not even thirteen as i'd first thought when i saw her side on, smiling, revealing nothing of what was to follow, entangling me before she'd spoken or even glanced towar
:iconsolniger:solniger 4 4
barracks ii - townward by solniger barracks ii - townward :iconsolniger:solniger 0 7 barracks i - standing stones by solniger barracks i - standing stones :iconsolniger:solniger 0 0 lintel by solniger lintel :iconsolniger:solniger 1 0
flail against your ties, prise your cruel life
from those unblinking eyes you know wait
patiently for your attempts at the deep end,
tonedeaf to Art's melancholy cadence.
her incisionopened heart's sharp throb
went unmarked -
a falling angel coaxed slow
from her leadwinged swandive -
a sinistral arrest. miserere midspiral.
and oh this fierce life guts us -
our halfsmiled turnkeys wryly proffer
chains we wove from ages spent.
:iconsolniger:solniger 1 1
with stilted steps
he lurches in, hat hidden
eyes and oily grinned -
to gloat amidst
the fine bright silken
whispered woven
cloaked deceit.
each outstretched paw
a pretty toy bears raw
and real into a world
of grasping hands -
and minds in turn
embrace serrated
claws, to see too late
the baited hook
that waits.
lost willingly to
labyrinths of witless
words and ritual -
now bound unto
the drowning fates
of dancing men -
so small, so fine
the line they think
they dance at will -  
and smile content,
beguiled and numb.
:iconsolniger:solniger 0 2
declination by solniger declination :iconsolniger:solniger 0 0 wharf by solniger wharf :iconsolniger:solniger 0 0
our love is a crime
in fortyeight states.
pompous hypocricy,
the dour face
of pensupressed desire,
covets our rapturous affirmations -
drab psychic vampires
clad in the stolen
robes of righteousness.
we are lashed to a raft,
dragged sidelong and rudderless
by the cold deep current.
the shore is lost.
we entrust ourselves.
mapless, our course
is charted under stars
hung in the firmament
by hands once held
and hearts now healed.
adrift on saturn's black
still sea, blank imagery -
our eyes are blinded,
yet our fates still see
the chains of time,
the fear of love,
the end of rule,
ritually hung,
so many stillborn
trappings on the tree.
:iconsolniger:solniger 0 0
i am the scale of seven even tones
i am the bleached accusing stare of weathered bones
i am the unasked mythic gift of second sight
i am the ultraviolet ache fae shadowed night
i am the sacrifical nine dayed tree of names
i am the coldlit indifference of mirrored flames
i am the sheltered cove from untamed storm
i am the dissipation of recursive form
i am the perfect engineered hermetic spell
i am the day remembered rotting in the well
i am the object spared of all intent
i am the steep white silence of ascent
i am the perfect crystalline still between heartbeats
i am the starlit oceanic distance between words
i am the blind smiling fall into familiar music
i am the impulse defelected effortlessly
i am the aeonic ease of equilibrium
i am the razor of simplest solution
i am the desire severed from result
i am the light atop a jagged crag
i am the mask that your love must wear
i am the remainder of a long division
i am an eleven digit prime
:iconsolniger:solniger 1 1
love's true face
i had forgotten how to weep.
molly dragged (hidden) desperate
choking sobs from me,
my vision tilting in
the stifled chapel heat
of oh i really love
your poem and now
are you ok?
before then she i'd loved twice
rendered me capable only of
mute rage
which finally discovered
sorrow's merciful voice.
and then you.
a tyre iron around the knees.
plumbing halfdreamt depths
long (best) left imagined -
weakness willed erased.
at first i thought
you joked - no girl could have been
so much and little at fourteen.
a jest.
i cast for table fish
and hauled surfaceward
a sublimely darkened creature
removed from her clime.
the lack of desperate pressure
was nearly too much. and then
I knew. one day it was true -
as simply apparent as a
blue gasp of clear winter sky.
everything sang, swam sharply -
the wave of a kris
before the blade pierced.
all those glib words were
ash and dust
in my mouth, thought's scorched
desert. the abyss still beyond me.
when she spoke of the boy
whom she loved -
:iconsolniger:solniger 3 4


October Frost
It was not yet dawn and my hand
had reached to find your hand
but instead embraced a pillow
(your initials embroidered in delicate lettering.)
This first frost,
this early October frost,
this cold pre-winter morning frost
that the weatherman had not predicted in his forecast
and had crept upon us so secretly.
Our leaf littered backyard shivered
and the birds (so hesitant to reveal their
treetop hideaways) did not sing the trite
before-dawn melodies that we had come to know for
what if the sun did not rise?
Once upon a time you had been
a child (in your land without winter)
with a bright red bicycle and
a macadamia tree (which you climbed,
despite your mother's wishes, to the very top branch,
collecting the great nuts one by one in your bucket and
cracking the tough outer shells.)
And how is it that you,
kneescraped and seasalted and unknown to winter,  
ended up here? With me?
and my lavender teas and your
midmorning love songs and
our eleven o'clock wishes and
the rainscente
:iconmusical-nymph:musical-nymph 9 46
I loved you as
The child (whose
Mother has been gone
For ages now)
Loves the stranger who
Waves to her from
Across the street.
We were strangers then, too.
Talking of how things
Should have been-
How they would have been if
They had gone as we had
Always planned.
How strange it is to think now,
That one false move that sent us falling,
Empty handed,
Into that sacrificial dance, in which
You took me by the arm so gently
And gave me everything you had.
I remember how
We walked through the garden.
Hand in hand.
Soul in soul.
It was hot-
We had taken our shoes off and
Left them by the creek.
Our bare feet were so calloused then,
From the sticks and stones
That Life had thrown upon our paths,
But we would not be bothered by
Those petty aches and pains.
You picked a yellow flower and
Tucked it behind my ear.
And as the cold water rushed over my
Pinky toes,
I knew that this was all that mattered.
:iconmusical-nymph:musical-nymph 11 54



Current Residence: sydney, australia
Favourite genre of music: pretty noise
Favourite photographer: witkin
Favourite style of art: individuation
Operating System: solaris
MP3 player of choice: iriver
Shell of choice: inspiraling phiratioed
Wallpaper of choice: charcoal pinstripe
Skin of choice: circumstaintial
Personal Quote: girls are for poofs
a questionaire, huh?

Total Music Volume:
9065 songs, approximately 75.5 GB and 910 albums.

Last CD Bought:
jonathan coleclough - period

Song Playing Right Now:
black forest / black sea - banjo song

Five Songs I Listen to a Lot, or That Mean a Lot to Me:
william basinski -the disintegration loops
the sundays - a certain someone
david sylvian - the boy with the gun
sergei rachmaninov - etudes-tableaux op39 no1 - c minor
cocteau twins - musette and drums
hafler trio - who sees goes on
rachel's - a french galleasse
swans - you're not real, girl

(how tough is five? i needed eight and i'm still not happy.)

People I am Passing it on To:


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th3rdeye Featured By Owner Jul 2, 2005

:hug: :cuddle: :glomp:

Spread the DA love around! (you can copy and paste this message on their userpage!)

:hug: :cuddle: :glomp:

*dingding* RULES:
1- You can hug the person who hugged you!
2- You can't hug the person more than 3 times
3- You -MUST- hug 6 other people
4- You should hug them in public! Paste it on their user page! c'mon..don't be scared of public displays of affection
5- Random hugs are perfectly okay! (and sweet)
6- You should most definitly get started hugging right away!
-P.S. Hey! try some random ppl to Spread more the DA love around!
thermalraven Featured By Owner Jun 27, 2005
great :gallery:
and :handshake: on ya DD
fisk Featured By Owner Jun 27, 2005  Professional Digital Artist
I recommend:

Sol Niger Within
by Meshuggah guitarist Fredrik Thordendal.
solniger Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2005
i have to concur with you. it's a blisteringly good album.
WhatIf Featured By Owner Jun 27, 2005
congratulations :)
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