Poet-Void

Rylie Spring

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Leland by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

Leland

Leland by R. Spring Now you lay me Down to weep; Tired man who’s hands could never keep. The bones are showing through to you; The message is clear while death is true. Your sacred dance is making me sick; I can’t see now that the air is thick, But you see me and your eyes are blood; Your weight bursts on me like a flood And my clean hands are dashed in mud. He comes in the night and you didn’t know Now go to sleep, baby, you’re white as snow I can see it in your eyes that you’re not there I see it in your soul and your sweat and your stare Daddy’s little angel floats away, and there you sit, you pray and

LOVE POEM by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

LOVE POEM

LOVE POEM R. SPRING I am in between love Stuck in the teeth of love You’ll have to bequeath me your love I have none for myself. I remember loves past I know love’s trend But love in the future? Now may be love’s end. I am wary and tired And love lets me go Faith has expired; The sun’s setting low. I will burn my off my skin Like my sweet Saint Tan in the new light where darkness had been I am in between love Stuck in the teeth of love You can lend me your love But I’ve got my own. --R. Spring

Fuck White Boys Pt. I by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

Fuck White Boys Pt. I

Fuck White Boys Pt. I R. Spring Fuck your paranoia I don’t need your paraphernalia fuck your paranoia you give me nausea I got paranoia I’ve got my own Lexapro in the evening Lexapro in the evening Drink it with water Take before sleeping Blood getting hotter I stay home-grown I got paranoia I’ve got my own Fuck your paranoia I don’t need your paranoia Fuck your paranoia I’ve got my own I love who I need I love who I want You swallow your greed Fuck your paranoia I owe you shit Fuck your paranoia I’ve got plenty of it Don’t look with your fingers Dot you ever touch No odor lingers I am not a crut

Untitled by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

Untitled

NO r. spring i don’t know what to choose i don’t know what to pick either way i know i’ll lose and wind up very sick. who should i believe when i am only me what tricks are up their sleeves? they know i cannot see. i want to keep my head high but i’ve been really down there are no more blue skies and i kind of want to drown. everyone is mad at me i’m trying to fix the error but i’m mad, too, you see cause i can’t escape my terror. i’m trying to stand up straight but i want to lie down on the ground what kind of future awaits if i give up without a sound?

American Media Sells Rape Culture Essay by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

American Media Sells Rape Culture Essay

ESSAY American Media Sells Rape Culture There is a warped perception of women and sex in America due to inaccurate and fantastical portrayals of female sexuality in the media—media being one of the most influential forms of marketing and entertainment in the country. “Sex sells” is a popular saying in the media industry, and it proves to be true in film. The way women are represented in media is almost solely as sex symbols—female characters in movies are created to be undeveloped, emotionless ‘sex kittens’ who seem to beg for sex in every scene, and this effects the way both

Dream of a Shirt by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

Dream of a Shirt

drunk writing of a dream of a shirt by r. spring in my dream last night i remember the distinct feel of button up shirt cloth on my cheek. (it was the pillow fabric of course) and it was warm with a heart’s beat that i know of personally. it was a dance with this warmth and safety to a little sanjuanitos song that was previously stuck in my head. i tried to recreate this dream when i woke up but i had 10 minutes left to sleep and it was just too hard to feel the warmth again on my pillow where, then, it was cold and damp with sleep. there were lights on strings and dirt floors and the sky was black and i wasn’t afraid of i

Two Little Headstones on a Hill With Hummingbirds by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

Two Little Headstones on a Hill With Hummingbirds

by r. spring There are two little headstones on a hill, Two pale marbles sitting sweetly still, Among low, swinging, perfumed plum trees, Among the gentle humming of the bees. Beneath tall, yellow chrysanthemums That beg the stones to come dance with them; Encased with lilies and droplets of dew, And are huddled close together, too. Above the grass so green and soft; The butterflies shy about aloft— The sky, cyan, unfolds behind them, And each have bits of thread to bind them. This morning came the hummingbirds To echo back their emerald words— To tie blue ribbons around each grave; To beckon the breeze’s petaled waves.

I Know You by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

I Know You

Not so serious Not so fast A little bit A lot I knew a certain smile when I saw it I saw it standing in the doorway I figured you would come I say words in nylon darkness But it's more than words, I know I'm not so serious Of you catch me unafraid I'm not so fast, just curious I awaken in this shade No more vacancy The only way I know how Of course, of course it should be known I love you and this means yes.

Give Up A Hope by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

Give Up A Hope

"give up a hope" R. Spring give up a hope just one today you wanted your family with you you wanted to be at peace and pray you wanted to show off your heritage but destruction paved the way family is the hope i’ll give up today. give up a hope just think of another one you wanted to make ends meet you wanted more time in the sun a little more time of day but nothing will ever get done time is the hope i’ll give up today. give up a hope how about a few more? you wanted success you wanted praise galore but your family left you and your heart is sore success is the hope i’ll give up today. give up a hope there are more, yo

Crylie by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

Crylie

Crylie r. spring i can never be bjork i am a Heian princess i am invisible me i am loved hidden and despised crazed and conceited alone in his arms singing without sound i can never be bjork i am a water droplet on a paintbrush no more water colors diluted distilled too many tears the legacy of Crylie i love him i love him there’s no more after that i can never be bjork i am a Heian princess

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Leland by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

Leland

LOVE POEM by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

LOVE POEM

Fuck White Boys Pt. I by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

Fuck White Boys Pt. I

Untitled by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

Untitled

American Media Sells Rape Culture Essay by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

American Media Sells Rape Culture Essay

Dream of a Shirt by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

Dream of a Shirt

Two Little Headstones on a Hill With Hummingbirds by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

Two Little Headstones on a Hill With Hummingbirds

I Know You by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

I Know You

Give Up A Hope by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

Give Up A Hope

Crylie by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

Crylie

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An Old Woman Dying Young by Poet-Void, literature

Literature

An Old Woman Dying Young

"An Old Woman Dying Young" R. Spring to burn out like a star who has plunged into excess smoked away talent taken on the wrinkles of loneliness and death to wash out, like cheap ink from cloth a gaudy, grotesque, joke of a color from birth a disfigured image of a young girl a numb feeling where laughter was to plummet from the bridge between anger and fear forever forgotten after burial ever until then hateful and sick ever until then cold in every situation ever until then dead before death she who forgot girlhood so young she who never has known a father’s caress she who never has achieved a place in Heaven she who never has escaped

An Old Woman Dying Young

Poet-Void

About Poet-Void

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Artist

Mar 17, 1994
United States
Deviant for 13 years
She / Her

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My Bio

I'm Not Ever Serious.

Proud Irish and Mexican.
Trotskyist-Marxist.

If you'd like to view my cartoons, please visit

:)

Like: Monty Python, Dylan Thomas, Frida Kahlo, Hilda Doolittle, Sylvia Plath, Disco, Star Trek, Edgar Allen Poe, Keats, Carl Sandburg, Dorothy Parker, Allan Ginsberg, Bob Dylan, e.e. cummings, Lon Chaney, ABBA, The Bee Gees.

Dislike: Racism, Sexism, Bigotry, Unkind people, Apathy, Snobbery, Avocados.

Current Residence: Downtown Fullerton
Favourite genre of music: Disco, Folk, Opera, Classic Rock
Favourite photographer: Annie Leibovitz
Favourite style of art: Surrealism
Shell of choice: The Magic Conch
Personal Quote: Your Satisfaction Is Your Success.

Favourite Visual Artist

Frida Kahlo and Vincent Van Gogh

Favourite Movies

Amelie, Amadeus, Harold and Maude, Life of Brian, Indiana Jones, Eraserhead, Cabinet of Dr. Caligari

Favourite TV Shows

Game of Thrones, The Office, Parks and Recreation, Star Trek, Pushing Daisies, Peep Show, Monty Python's Flying Circus

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Roy Orbison, Tom Waits, The Bee Gees, Yoko Ono, Ringo Starr, Lila Downs, The Pogues, The Waterboys

Favourite Books

Just Kids, Memoirs of a Geisha, The Hobbit, Lord of the Rings Trilogy, Like A Velvet Glove Cast In Iron,

Favourite Writers

Oscar Wilde, Dylan Thomas and Hilda Doolittle

Favourite Games

The Sims 1-2-3, Lord of the Rings Online, Team Fortress 2, Fallout: New Vegas, Amnesia, Gauntlet NES

Favourite Gaming Platform

Sega

Other Interests

Music, Disco, Photoshop/GIMP, Poetry, Ballad Writing

Posts

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Poet-Void

Sep 24, 2012

Very Happy

0 min read

And it isn't that I feel completely hateful of myself anymore, but I do feel like my mopey attitude makes me into someone who will drive away the one I care about. I try to stop, but it feels so good to have someone on my side all the time that I just have to tell him everything. And while he sits and listens and holds me and helps me greatly, I feel like I should stop it now because enough is enough. I have so many good things thanks to him and his family, that the distresses of my inner self are petty and pointless to complain about now. I want to move on with him and talk about everything I love about him. I love everything he is.

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Poet-Void

Aug 31, 2012

Autumn is coming

0 min read

Started community college after dropping out of high school. Something that pushed me into a point where my emotions hadn't quite loaded yet. For a time I was numb. I'm doing better. Who knows if the dramatics will continue. I sense an explosion. I hope it comes after the holidays. Almost a year with my boyfriend. Art history major; gonna be a gallery curator with a PhD in museum sciences under my belt. Working on my head. It's been sickly, but I'm not in a desolate place anymore.

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Poet-Void

Dec 12, 2011

New File

0 min read

I am creating a new file for my essays. I want to become better at essay writing, and will, from this point on, share my essays here with you. I used to be pretty good at writing them--however, with Benchmarks in school, I've been doubting myself. I'm recovering from my Essay Rut Blues.