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Literature Text
Forget their taste anytime soon
The angel enters the other angel’s shrine bowing, its halo a faint autumn purple.
“Do you have a name?” it asks the other one sitting beside a window. “I mean, right now.”
“I don’t. I don’t need one right now. Do you?” the other one replies, not turning towards the door. Then it adds “You are welcome.”
“Thank you. As for the name, yes I do have one. I was asked to pass it on to you, after making sure you don’t have one already.”
“I had quite a few recently. None now,” nods the one still sitting. “Do speak it to me then.”
The one in the door moves in, crossing the small, bright room. It casts shadows, and there’s a loose feather trailing a circle slowly behind it in the air. It is a black feather, tinted purplish by the autumn halo. When the angel reaches the other one, it leans to it and whispers something in its left ear.
“No,” the sitting one says, not a shadow crossing its pure face. “I cannot bear that name now. I am too light for the task it implies.”
The raven-winged one reaches into a pouch of its robes. Its arm loses some of its colour.
“That is why I was told to bring you some of these.”
“What do you mean, these?”
“Pills. A new invention of internal affairs. It’s called a depressant, and it comes in pills. It helps taking on certain names. Its effects do wear off after a while, I’m told. I’m not yet sure it is true, however. Giving you the name has already helped a bit, but I’ll just have to see if I can forget their taste anytime soon.”
The angel enters the other angel’s shrine bowing, its halo a faint autumn purple.
“Do you have a name?” it asks the other one sitting beside a window. “I mean, right now.”
“I don’t. I don’t need one right now. Do you?” the other one replies, not turning towards the door. Then it adds “You are welcome.”
“Thank you. As for the name, yes I do have one. I was asked to pass it on to you, after making sure you don’t have one already.”
“I had quite a few recently. None now,” nods the one still sitting. “Do speak it to me then.”
The one in the door moves in, crossing the small, bright room. It casts shadows, and there’s a loose feather trailing a circle slowly behind it in the air. It is a black feather, tinted purplish by the autumn halo. When the angel reaches the other one, it leans to it and whispers something in its left ear.
“No,” the sitting one says, not a shadow crossing its pure face. “I cannot bear that name now. I am too light for the task it implies.”
The raven-winged one reaches into a pouch of its robes. Its arm loses some of its colour.
“That is why I was told to bring you some of these.”
“What do you mean, these?”
“Pills. A new invention of internal affairs. It’s called a depressant, and it comes in pills. It helps taking on certain names. Its effects do wear off after a while, I’m told. I’m not yet sure it is true, however. Giving you the name has already helped a bit, but I’ll just have to see if I can forget their taste anytime soon.”
Literature
Neologism
There is a moment, tired and quiet,
that lingers in the inside of a person
drawing symbols on the inner walls
in fingerpaints and blunted charcoal.
People ask for things, in passion
in passing fancy, in desperate need...
people ask, and they ask, and ask
loud and bleating sacrificial lambs.
Why must it be for passing joy, floating
through the air like prancing butterflies
from marigold to globemallow and lilac -
fleeting things no sooner saw then gone
There are symbols I've been reading
symbols that tell a story of things
more than marigolds and nectar -
symbols to connect impossibilities.
It is a quiet jargon of signs, of a
Literature
forget
forget love.
the ways of being the molecular lightning
the sheerness of the universe.
the hand-prints
left everywhere.
forget love--
the pure stunts of the body
somewhere above the invisible stunts of ourselves.
forget winter
& everywhere else love is possible.
its weightlessness
its cloudy material
Literature
loveisamentalillness
You say it is my fault for forcing
you to imprint scars into my flesh
and bones but I can't bring
myself to care.
You tell me I am beautiful,
I release a breath of relief as
I count my rib cage one by one,
swirls of dark purple yellow black
blue red on my thighs, my once
light chocolate skin fading away
to pale.
You demand I do not see him 'cause
then I will leave you and I do not try to
reassure you 'cause deep down
in my gut, I wonder if you are right.
(I miss him and his soft touches-
I did not believe him when he yelled out
I was falling straight into hell but
I know I should have-I could have been
flying to
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
[perhaps not entirely what you'd expect it to be. 
]
+
Featured by DLD (Daily Literature Deviations).
Thanks, guys.
+
Having received a kind invitation recently I decided to give membership a try and joined The Written Revolution, a dA group whose icon you see above this paragraph. I wonder what they think of the 'humour' in this piece.
]+
Featured by DLD (Daily Literature Deviations).
Thanks, guys.
+
Having received a kind invitation recently I decided to give membership a try and joined The Written Revolution, a dA group whose icon you see above this paragraph. I wonder what they think of the 'humour' in this piece.
© 2007 - 2024 gaborcsigas
Comments25
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Overall
Vision Originality Technique Impact<img class="avatar" src="a.deviantart.net/avatars/t/h/t…" alt="
" title="thewrittenrevolution"/>As I was the one to invite you, it's a pleasure to critique on this.
First off, I must admit that when I read that the angel's halo was purple I was sort of taken aback. It was unusual, but it made me think of a "sad angel", also because of the "autumn" word associated with it. And it seemed to fit with the angel itself, if it makes sense. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="15" height="15" alt="
" title=" (Smile) - "/>It also surprised me when the second angel says "You're welcome", before the one actually thanks. Not because usually you should wait for someone to thank you before saying it, but because I couldn't understand what the first angel should be thanking for...
However, after reading the entire prose, I started to think it probably thanks the other one because it can give the second angel the name... and so be freed from it. Have I guessed right? I'm curious.
Then, the ending really made me smile. In a sort of ironic and bitter way, but I smiled nonetheless. It was a very weird, intriguing prose to read.
My interpretation of it seems to tell me that the piece is about... "categories" in which we tend to put people. We pass to each other "names", which are nothing more than titles given by others to try and briefly describe us. Again, I am probably wrong. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/n/n…" width="15" height="15" alt="
" title="Noes! - "/> But I try, hehe.As for the humour, I think that the one of the pills gave it away as a slightly ironic piece... by the way, that really was clever.
In conclusion, cunning and unusual prose. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/c/c…" width="20" height="20" alt="
" title="Clap - "/>=HtBlack