Crimson-Stains

Entropy With Sunbeams by Crimson-Stains, literature

Literature

Entropy With Sunbeams

Sun alights on a window pane of the ordinary - refracted into seven streams of consciousness. A yellow morphing through blues to become, beautiful green flowing from the nature of the grasses lining the sill. A blue collides with red to spill forth radiant hues of purple settling upon the petals of the pansy. Colourful patterns borne from the light of life, soaked in as chlorophyll; warming the cool pallid skin of winter. Grateful, as one ought, to the warmth of entropy cascading about in the form of little beams. Oh for the beauty of these waves and particles that one may be the observer of such an experiment as life.

Dearest Brother by Crimson-Stains, literature

Literature

Dearest Brother

For my Brother - There was a time when we were young; you protected me. Now we are grown we are equals in the world of chaos and aroha. Yet still - you protect me - and I (as I have always done) comfort you. We live our lives by seperate minds and different paths; but our blood binds us. We are one; moulded from the same clay-bed. Grown upon the same earth. Dearest Brother: you are the rock upon which as a Tuatara, slow and precise, I may lay in the sun and warm myself to life. And I am the house in which you may sit by the fire and shelter from the storms of emotion and thought as the spill forth from your beaten armour

The Insiders Guide to Joy by Crimson-Stains, literature

Nothing and Everything by Crimson-Stains, literature

Literature

Nothing and Everything

There is nothing in the world that can stop me – "Wait!" Except that. Your voice screaming at me, my anger surfaces wave upon wave is attacking my psyche and I blurt out "Fuck off, leave me to go" You grab it from my hands and start to yell again, you are bereft. You CANNOT save me. "Wait!" I don't belong in the waiting room anymore, I explain – you walk out. There is nothing in the world that can stop me – There is only you.

Define Me by Crimson-Stains, literature

Literature

Define Me

We are always bound by fragments- little shards that pierce this skin that we have tried to make so thick. Wearily we peer out from little slits we have cut. Looking out from a place of built safety for a compatible shelter. Woven together through misplaced irony and pity, but also love, until emotion wavers and all that resides is: You. So frail is the thin cotton that pulls us together – holding us thread by thread – until eventually, we fall apart; a pile of simple string sitting on the earth.

In The Evening by Crimson-Stains, literature

Literature

In The Evening

There is a whole in my mind as it plays out in front of myself. Far removed am I. Pearls and flowers stained orbiting from words whispered "Follow Me". Three lines and a stop; something poised and worn. It is not a cliché if you feel it. Right? He is dead and the blood is staining the flowers red. Is he breathing? I try to believe in the scene almost at a point of applause as my curtain falls around me. Battlements and words built in woods of paper, while salt rains down on new realities. It has passed now. Pain lingers upon the wisdom I once had- a whole life and such mysterious creatures. We are, happy?

The Other End by Crimson-Stains, literature

Literature

The Other End

All I can muster is a weak smile as words pour through wires. My eyes bask in tears, colour blighted from sparkling spheres by anguish. I recall your image; my mind's eye is scattered on a million pieces of broken mirror starring with pained eyes and smile. All I can see is myself, my pain. Without ill intention: I hope you are hurting too. Hapless wanderer, I caught you in the headlights Our time was a countdown to One- Ready. Breathe. ONE However pain is an edge I have over no one; my battle is only small. I am sliding down the rabbit-hole into the dizzying void. Click and the pain will end. It was over in an afternoon.

A Question Posed by Crimson-Stains, literature

Literature

A Question Posed

If I lie still enough will the cars headlights fade in the drip-drop of the rain? Will the rains mist shroud everything: cars, people, roads and trees in a fuming orange glow? And will the mist fade? I cannot see. Will I be forgotten and forged in my death by neglect? Will I be missing? Missing as if existence was ordained upon me? It was not. I may die if I choose. And will the memory of one lone person resurrect my nature? If I am remembered at all I have won a small battle over time. But I want to know, if I lay still enough will I cease to exist? "Exist" Yes my friend. Will I cease to exist?

A Lizard In The Heat by Crimson-Stains, literature

A Love Letter From Revel by Crimson-Stains, literature

Literature

A Love Letter From Revel

I ordered a mocha today. A big bowl in a brown mug and mismatched plate. I am at our cafe missing you; a lonely cigarette is burning in the ashtray. Here am I sitting watching the cars keep passing red light to green light, and the people just walk past me. They are rivers of traffic on our busy street. None of them remind me of you. I never noticed before perched where I am in our hot-seat- the intricacies of architecture around the area we live. Buildings squashed together in years past; they are reminiscent of a past economy and a time before our lives began together. The Verona building stands short and squat next to St. Ke

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Entropy With Sunbeams by Crimson-Stains, literature

Literature

Entropy With Sunbeams

Dearest Brother by Crimson-Stains, literature

Literature

Dearest Brother

The Insiders Guide to Joy by Crimson-Stains, literature

Nothing and Everything by Crimson-Stains, literature

Literature

Nothing and Everything

Define Me by Crimson-Stains, literature

Literature

Define Me

In The Evening by Crimson-Stains, literature

Literature

In The Evening

The Other End by Crimson-Stains, literature

Literature

The Other End

A Question Posed by Crimson-Stains, literature

Literature

A Question Posed

A Lizard In The Heat by Crimson-Stains, literature

A Love Letter From Revel by Crimson-Stains, literature

Literature

A Love Letter From Revel

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Entropy With Sunbeams by Crimson-Stains, literature

Literature

Entropy With Sunbeams

About Crimson-Stains

New Zealand
Deviant for 19 years
She / Her

Badges

Favourite Visual Artist

Fiona Whyte <3 Brian Froud

Favourite Movies

Louie Theroux - Behind Bars, Dark Days, Kidulthood

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Pink Floyd, The Roots

Favourite Writers

Valdimir Nabokov, Bernard Shaw, Elizabeth Knox

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Life and Love

Posts

Jul 9, 2011

Bhuddism and Pirate Ships: Hippies and ze Gyps

0 min read

As always Ibegin with apologies for not coming to this site more often. Put up a poem I wrote for my brother, ive written tonnesmore but they are all at my parents house in a suitcase I had to levae behind last time I visited because some idiot who bookedmyflights forgot to tick the "check in luggage YES PLEASE" box. Dammit! But am returning to the farm in 2 weeks to grab my stuff and things :) Holy shit I am 24 in 3 weeks. Fuck my age. So living in Wellington at the moment - doing heaps of writing and tattoo designs and moving into my house by the beach which is becoming a personalised art studio next weekend YAYS! Single (one again) and

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Useless...

0 min read

I am very bad at remembering to visit this site :D But I am trying to get back into my writing and would appreciate everyones honesty and feedback. So whats new in the life of a vagrant? > Moved into a new flat, full of SQUARES who just dont get it, ya know? > Living happily (at times) with my partner. But always alone lately so im starting to feel as though I were actually single again. This= not good for a relationship. > Turning 23 in a week and freaking out! > Have no job and wish someon in Wellington, NZ out there could hear me pleading for one with the universe. Whats new with all of you? Give me the goss :D Go on you know u want

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Nov 18, 2009

The To Do List

0 min read

I'm tired. But aren't we all? It is one thing each day that I grow tired of. Today I grow tired of myself, and each day after this a little more. Why does life become so unexciting as you grow older? Perhaps I am simply tired of my life in such a small country. No matter where I turn there is a dairy at the end of every street corner, a television in every persons lounge and meat and three veg' on the dinner table. My feet are growing itchier every day, and yet in my current situation I am only to scratch the itch away because although they want to walk all over the world it isn't their time yet. Barefoot I trot about this small farm in my s

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Profile Comments 263

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Write something

So went will thou Fall from the Sky again and write more poetry?

Heya!! I been so slack lately at writing anything... but might upload some stuff today

WATCH THIS SPACE. (your the only one who ever reads it anyway im sure

)

Former-child-star

cool! from the ashes you arise again! lol I can't be the only one