~Paul-Cooper

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About Me Deviant Artist Member Paul-Cooper22/Male/United Kingdom

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The Comet

May 2, 2010, 5:58:39 AM by ~Paul-Cooper
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

We stood shivering, my Dad and I, shrunk
under enormous arctic air, watching
the source of all tears spin silk into the stars.

Homeward bound, this mote-borne traveller;
pilgrim after warmth and light, a shattered vase
with nothing to end its fall, spilling glass dust
into a darkness larger than the fever-dreams of God.

Four thousand years ago, it lit the night
and saw the Akkadians scattered like dolls,
a forest of flags tattered in the chalk of moonlight;
urus turning the pages of the ocean;
the hundred-year pharaoh narrowing
rheumatic eyes at the first clear gleam of bronze.

Separate ways.
You fall back into those millennia of night;
our planet turns, tilts us into darkness and dust.

9 Comments

Newest Deviations

The Green Zone at Midnight Like human teeth, the boots crunch –
the throat-clear truck revving
to ship the soldiers completely elsewhere;

beyond the stucco sheet concrete
of the barricade, the dead heft
of ordnance – underwater sound
scattering stars like dark shoals.

Searchlights detonate in the hot gloom.
They spill through the cobwebs of wires
and lie white on the sand, in pieces.The Green Zone at Midnight by ~Paul-Cooper

9 Comments

Khales Static by ~Paul-Cooper

2 Comments

Dead Note I slipped and wrote a poem
soft as old playing cards –
the plastic snapped from the keyboard,
my finger pocking rubber like
a dead piano note; dust-breath.
Missing key, lone and ridiculous
as a Scrabble tile.

I slipped and wrote a poem
blunt as a hollowpoint.
The soft silt of flour on the keys,
globes of oil left jointed sinews –
spelling sharp advice from the sweating
chocolate block, the slim kitkat
of the spacebar.

I slipped and wrote a poem
dead as stardust.
The thrum of typing through the letter mist,
insect clouds of occasional undressed
punctuation, crowded like yet-to-be-formed
letters failing Dead Note by ~Paul-Cooper

6 Comments

The Comet We stood shivering, my Dad and I, shrunk
under enormous arctic air, watching
the source of all tears spin silk into the stars.

Homeward bound, this mote-borne traveller;
pilgrim after warmth and light, a shattered vase
with nothing to end its fall, spilling glass dust
into a darkness larger than the fever-dreams of God.

Four thousand years ago, it lit the night
and saw the Akkadians scattered like dolls,
a forest of flags tattered in the chalk of moonlight;
urus turning the pages of the ocean;
the hundred-year pharaoh narrowing
rheumatic eyes at the first clear gleam of bronze.

Separate ways.
You fall back into those millennia The Comet by ~Paul-Cooper

9 Comments

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Writers' Magazine

Thu Sep 23, 2010, 6:42 AM

Hey guys - I've spent the summer working at a writers' magazine in Cardiff. It's got a load of great advice on writing, literary competitions to enter, interviews with authors and industry reps, and guides to submitting to agents and publishers. Plus of course articles by me! About interesting things. You should check it out.