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About Deviant Andrew HusseyMale/Canada Recent Activity
Deviant for 12 Years
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I'd asked for moments of solidarity,
Some small Elysium amidst the igneous
Palisades I'd erected here.
The place between where I sing
And pacify the carnivores I bred.
It wasn't until well after feeding time
That I realized the walls had become flaccid.
Their contents facile, bereft of the meaning
I'd bequeathed on them.
And in that oppressive emptiness
All color unified, became manifest,
And turned all within me to stone.
Be it a rock or a grain of sand,
In water they sink alike.
:iconzarathustras-crown:Zarathustras-Crown 2 0
I'd constructed a secret majesty
From the heavy-handed heartbeat
I could hear through the phone line.
Smothered my spleen to make way
For an inviolate heart, and a corroborated
Eye in the hope that the malignant spots
Therein weren't noticeable.
When it is all completed, this segregation,
Bottom feeding comes round to satiate
Everyone again, an anti-leech fomenting
A bubbling putrescence I'd believed
Nothing short of sacrosanct.
I should be used to the blood by now,
The scavenging and tattered minds.
The illusion of mutual inclusivity,
Love and trust, honesty and steadfastness.
The majesty of mountaintops,
And of the world below
Silent as the backbone
Of night.
:iconzarathustras-crown:Zarathustras-Crown 0 0
The chthonic in her drew her to
Higher flying, calling the hearth on
Steeper and dropping it, ashen
Into tremulous soliloquies
And bitter saline denial.
In fear of the mirrors she sees in me
She closes herself in a quilt of
Obsequiousness, prays to Morpheus
And at last enraptures Nix
And goes home into her night,
The emptiness in him opens
His viscera, co-opts the center
Of his truth, because, like I,
He is grasping at shadows.
I know his wordless panic,
The wells he has dug,
And the years he has known
Nothing but clay, and ichor,
Chasing and weeping.
The scent of too
Few memories,
And the acidic burn of
Too many…
Then the angel behind a chord,
Who I tried too hard to grasp for,
And in so doing became entangled.
I tripped and hurt her, I begged her
Pardon but she had already left,
She painted me narcissus,
A fire she couldn't quench.
I cried out that I was only a human,
That the fire that had been kindling
Had been us, together, and I believed
:iconzarathustras-crown:Zarathustras-Crown 0 0
I don't think they understand how,
Through these words I pay my pittance to Charon.
How, in embracing the phosphorescence
Of lonely nights, alone, watching the
Figures the smoke from my
Cigarette makes, I hope to cross
Over.  To at least dull the encroachment
Of the dark there with soft skin, tears,
And the annihilation of myself.
I melded these words, tractable as tin
For the few who are born posthumously,
For the dynamite, and the rage of center stage
Don't fall down
Don't fall down…
Don't become me.
:iconzarathustras-crown:Zarathustras-Crown 3 4
I'd seen the desert sand swallow
The forest we had contrived here,
Encrust the green throng in rust
Flavored torrents, a silicate ash
That muted the trees struggling
Against one another for sunlight.
There was a murmuring in the expanse
Created there, an inherent whisper that simply
Belonged in that place, faint, and still near
like a child laughing
Through frosted glass.
Decrepit, sour, and still divine.
I had reached for something to hold onto
when my home had fragmented to sand,
and it was when I'd closed my hand that I
remembered, I'd never had a home
to begin with.
:iconzarathustras-crown:Zarathustras-Crown 0 0
Traduttore, Traditore
We had always put our faith in the
Contingency we'd built in each others
Eyes.  The chance that, in one another
We could create a luminous dance beyond
The places that had been created for us.
The steps you'd taught me were clumsy
For me at first, a meticulously created
Falling down.   Your eyes turned the world
Golden, and in that I had hoped my words
But when my mouth opened, and I tried
To bring you into the fold, I had forgotten,
traduttore, traditore.
My silence was ever shield for the certainty
That I would show people the nightmare
I've known for years.
I didn't show it to you out of malice,
I showed it to you, so that you could
See me as I am.
I'd presumed love a gift, but ever has it been
The endowment of a curse, and a terror
I pass along to the ones I wish gold.
:iconzarathustras-crown:Zarathustras-Crown 0 0
Molten Phosphorescence
In the dream, it was in a room of
molten air, a phosphorescent bacchii
murmur still holding sway over my
I'd seen freedom in the center,
a crescent that shied from
the alabaster in my eyes.
A quarter-moon through whom
I'd already convicted
I know now that this is my home,
I know that I can look but never touch.
I know they will all become moths,
and I'll watch with feline clarity
while they end the magic I wove
for them.
I know...
And I'll never be allowed to forget.
:iconzarathustras-crown:Zarathustras-Crown 0 0
It was in a dream I'd
Seen you first, swaying
In a flaccid breeze and calling
Yourself a God.
Drawing muted stick figures
In the sand with the rainbow play
Of your feet.  Beings you brought
To life with the color you'd
Lain out before you.
It was then that you smiled,
Called down a luminous darkness
I could see, but could never
See through.
It hadn't been a dream at all,
In your dance you had lovingly,
Carefully and meticulously woven
A nightmare skein I'm still
Unable to wake from
Please let it be morning,
I want to wake up now.
:iconzarathustras-crown:Zarathustras-Crown 0 2
These coruscated roadways
Drove us to a final conniption,
A grandiose facilitation of
The excess you've built of me.
Your world of acquittal
Took me to a phantom chasm,
A place in which I can turn
To the fractured pearl, alabaster of
Your smile or where I can leap eternally
Into an ending that doesn't end,
an ending your gluttony afforded us
Eat, drink, and be merry,
For tomorrow you won't die.
:iconzarathustras-crown:Zarathustras-Crown 4 10
A Moment
All the years I'd spent, the filtered
Water, the crystalline dust of sour
Smelling binders.
Tired hands and the feeling of grime
Under the heart.  The hatred, the
Burning, the pain in my gut that makes me
Double up.
The warm surge of immortality, normality
For a brief moment, I take a drag from
A cigarette I had all but forgotten,
It's long ash a blistered cylinder of the
Time I've lost here
And in the aftermath of the warmth,
A recurring thought brings me to tears,
I do it to myself with the dream that I
Can forget that I ever did it at all.
:iconzarathustras-crown:Zarathustras-Crown 3 3
The Skein
We have drawn this skein from nothing,
Burdened hallmark of the skill you'd seen
Crawl under your skin and extol the power
Of absolution, of excuse.
I was never able to harmonize the dreaming
You gave me, the gyroscope you made of a
Cracked smile, a shimmering heartbeat, a tear
The processional wobble that makes us chaos,
That forces us into a pool of anti-control.
One day, in the aftermath, what you saw
Will wash over you like a cotton sunset.
You'll see the moment as if for the first time,
The pain, the blood, the slick wet tears,
You'll remember,
And you'll understand it was the only thing
That was ever real at all
:iconzarathustras-crown:Zarathustras-Crown 0 4
The chthonic papyrus of your lips,
stretched into a shape that brought
angles and an end to ouroboros.
The murmuring you made
was a harvest incarnate,
a malign cutting
to feed the livestock.
I held what you yielded as sacred, because I had to,
because the alternative, it seemed,
was subsistence on air and vitriol alone.
It wasn't until later that I realized,
air and vitriol were all you ever offered
In the first place.
:iconzarathustras-crown:Zarathustras-Crown 3 10
There was a seabed whenever
I dreamed of you; a pallid, evanescent
Clarion call you'd brought together
To keep yourself alive.
You surrounded yourself with water
For fear of the searing you could feel
On the far shore.  So it was to the sea
You fled, to the waters whereon you
Became a crustacean, a shield borne of
The miraculous penultimate
Sacrilege of banality.
Yet, still you watch the eastern shore,
And the fire you left there.
You don't have the strength to
Make it back now, and the fire is gold now…
And, it's all you can do to keep from crying.
:iconzarathustras-crown:Zarathustras-Crown 2 14
The Dionysian shimmer
in the east makes a hearth
of me.
A distant concavity that
christens spirits not yet
Oh, to lay a hand on your brow,
sanction and harvest any crease therein.
Call home thickets of night,
and make you see the leper
I was, and can be.
...and in the twilight of an
autumnal equinox, it's dreams
heralded truth.
Please, let there be truth.
:iconzarathustras-crown:Zarathustras-Crown 2 6
The moonlight is an empire,
a gleaming, nocturnal meridian
of melancholy.
In my lucid dreams
you glowed in a crimson delirium,
the red sanctuary of your own
freedom from self.
I was never angry,
only demolished by
your malcontent,
and betrayal.
:iconzarathustras-crown:Zarathustras-Crown 1 8
There's no more lamentations
I can write, my head is of cotton,
turgid twilight glimpses in silver hues
and eldritch strongholds.
I've erred, and the candor was
laden in levity.  Believing in love
as the way when, in you all the people digest
morsels and become who you want to be.
It always exceeds expectation,
countless times and it still numbs
me with it's terror
:iconzarathustras-crown:Zarathustras-Crown 0 6

Random Favourites

At times I've seen you as blue-black
liquid scouring  moss-green rocks, or
the cold shock of April's glaze clinging
to windowpanes, but you are the sweat
of a raven spilling over a fresh-tilled field.
I feel you soaring, circling, hear the scrape
of your wet wings raking across my lips,
taste the metal rasp of  laughter and pray
you will land, if only for an instant,
upon my outstretched  limb.
:iconsssorry:Sssorry 179 74
She's tying
With her
Where she thinks
She is,
I just
The spout
Of time
And injured
She is
:iconpiscesandthediamonds:Piscesandthediamonds 6 30
what i would say to your face
love, there’s proof of it
felt in murmurs we all know:
the electric echoes of tellurian pedicles
mining for the perfect blend of pulp
and theater,
and thirsty root synapses  
casting Babels out of vagaries
recycled, filtered, mangled,
or whatever on Earth or Hades
it takes to burn that smile for you;
and you wear it with such a spurious pride,
especially mordant
in light of
your inhaling an unknown cosmos
hiding chaos
in the mash
and into you and me and every one of us
-just -
waiting for the crashing of the planet-moon  
that wafts above you, too ghostly and unreal
or the hand on your elbow from a child
too lite to ripple your nerves like knowing
or a kiss from a face that puzzles in darkness
too warm to survive another night of this,
and waiting, long, for the drip that soothes
the sleeping fear of this wakeless lot,
and waiting for the violent thrust
that knocks down your copper stills;
and proof is lost,
and love is real.
:iconspoems:spoems 19 34
hope-chest arteries.
i collect books and reptiles,
glasses stained blue and
reasons to love him,
but i could never have too many of those.
and i breathe deep when he hugs me
like i'm trying to memorize
the way he smells,
like my childhood,
like soap and cotton and
something nearly indescribable.
and while i might have forgotten
to cherish my childhood,
i know i cherish him.
:iconmarieholly:MarieHolly 21 13
The Parade
I haven't seen
in so long.
I remember you
All shell
And gutted;
Pearl ice-cream
In your
You used to
Squeeze the milk
Out of bones and cacti;
Wonder about how
It got there.
Like ether,
While the others
Watched you stare
At white walls.
I must have
A forgetful potion;
Watched too many
Stick their steeples
Inside of green emeralds.
I don't know when
You left
Or where you've been
Transported to
But I'm pretty sure
I felt you
:iconpiscesandthediamonds:Piscesandthediamonds 12 27
The Glass Fountain
We're tree-stuck:
Starry albino nests,
Wombing fictitious maps
Like pressed flowers;
Everything as it is.
We stare on like
Horizon-reel meadows;
Witnesses to the
Quartz whistle
Of floating anthelia
And with buoying
Cherub blossoms
In our breath
Knocking about like
Icicle chandelier chatter –
We open like keys,
Our convincing human-jackets
Left at the door;
With no gauge to hold
A world
Of open cages –
Of disengagements
From the aching minim
The thirsty thews
Now widely flung, we forsake
And scatter the pylons –
The buoys mist to memory-space;
In its place, a bobbing
Anchorless wind-sailer bliss
Without a rocky coast
To crush our cushion star
Animus against.
Can't we just spume here, forever
Lay about in sweet absentia,
A fruitskin filled with perlustration
An ice tongue
Stretched wide like a dreamcatcher
Soaking in hidden suns that flower
Like songs in the breast
Of an astral meadowlark?
And this, our strange elocation,
We find to be no more
Than a trick o
:iconpiscesandthediamonds:Piscesandthediamonds 11 21
when you and i were alive
we used to write eachother letters
in envelopes of read-me-red
and save-me-blue and love-me-yellow,
each one of them encasing the language of Understanding.
i'd kept the ones you'd written me
in a crimson box and
i'd liked to think, then,
that i could feel your warmth emanating from
the thin recycled paper,
cutting through the air each time
i opened the lid
the tired hinges creaking,
protesting as if they knew
as i did
that each time i opened the box and
exposed it to the harsh elements of the world
you would slip out
and eventually i'd be left with paper
and nothing else.
and the night we died i dropped
one letter in the ocean, buried one in
the desert sand, placed one in
the outstretched hand of a beggar on the street
because your words had always warmed me more
than things like food, shelter
or water ever could.
you gathered mine in a cluster and set them on fire,
held my hand as we stood back and watched
and the crackling-cackling of the flames stretched a
:iconmarieholly:MarieHolly 25 15
at the bus stop
October tossed a faded rag
like the brown-blue,
weeping threads of jean hems
over our atmosphere
when I saw you:
folded on the bus bench,
a chrysalis of chipped nail polish
curled around your face.
Your husks of hands
fell to your lap and
your eyelashes fluttered,
breaking out as if butterflies
but there was only the sound and shape
of trickling city gutters between them.
My pockets were empty, so
I wish I could have pulled
the sky down
and offered it to you
like one of those gentlemen
you've never believed in.
But instead I watched
helpless, twisting, drowning
worms swirl to the edge of your toes
as their ghosts burrowed into your eyes.
:iconanelle:anelle 7 8
something is scratching... by Vagalume something is scratching... :iconvagalume:Vagalume 1,010 146
Atrophy of Alloy
How pure we were, when born from ore:
simple and untainted, a metal of one shade,
stainless and whole.
But now I am a makeshift alloy,
stronger perhaps for being made complex,
but having lost all shine.
And stronger only in some ways;
for my parts are of differing qualities.
I have been left in peace, and so I rust at varying speeds,
my heart tarnishing and arms thinning
while my legs march on unaware.
I have been too long undisturbed, and thus decay:
I am beyond upkeep by oil.
I creak with the desire for mallet and anvil,
for constructive demolition.
I implore the ancient Smith who set us forth from our molds-
bring coal and bellows,
and fire.
Ignite the forge's noble rage,
and let fly the screaming, rapturous agony of the hammer!
Chip away the impure flakes,
let the malformations rejoin the whole in molten baptism.
I do not ask to be made simple again,
let me only be more firmly joined.
:iconformlessforce:Formlessforce 4 17
The Law of Seasons
Of the four, I know Autumn deepest-
for I, like the leaf,
lose color and fall when my season comes,
in a cycle as old as rhythm;
old as rhythm and repetition.
Undulation is a law, I am reassured,
unbreakable as gravity.
(As though gravity were less hateful!)
The mightiest wave has the lowest trough,
and the greatest height the steepest fall, and
my greatest victories over Egypt
always end with forty years of desolate wandering.
Is progress then a lie?
Is there any real change, or
do we pattern ourselves after our Sun, our Moon, our Earth,
traveling vast distances, to at the climax of some epic journey
end right where we'd begun?
Our waxing becomes waning the moment it passes its fullest.
Tell me it is false!
Prove me wrong! Prove me wrong!
Prove me wrong, please...
Show me a man who has found success stable,
show me a stairway that only leads upward.
(Just as likely you could show me a summer which never grows cold!)
Show me a leaf that does not become a dried skeleton lying on th
:iconformlessforce:Formlessforce 26 52
Never again
It was the last day on Earth/ and I spent all that I was worth/ on analgesics and fireworks/ so I could conjure/ a vision of your face; via the consensus of embers and neon against the deep, blackbones of space -
The only thing that can be taught/ here, on the last day of Earth/ is that Valentine teaches tautology/ and that all I am is but minus a million/ inside a shade of vermillion and always a hundred hearts too short.
You are the end of me, on this last day on Earth -
:iconpiscesandthediamonds:Piscesandthediamonds 11 34
It's the
Same voice
In every
" I'm
With mirrors
In my heart ".
It floats
In seahorse
And cool-lavender –
There is no
For this realm,
No instrument
To loom
This design.
I monopolise
The mushrooming
The specks
Of your
:iconpiscesandthediamonds:Piscesandthediamonds 9 33

the crocodile ridges of his spine
were vertebrae Braille that read:  

if        you
one           day
catch you
before you

and I, being blind, ran.  
:iconanelle:anelle 7 15
Cthulhu Rising by jasonjuta Cthulhu Rising :iconjasonjuta:jasonjuta 3,201 566
Souls: high kites with holes
souls are high kites with holes, the sky is like a crystal ball
Blue sky harrow:
How lost for adjectives
Are we
To break our fast up there
Sugar, tea, and birdsong?
Of course, kites, souls
Curiosities, wind being free
While we, ground strung Gullivers
Flat beneath the
Colossal eye
We're watchers
Of the wolcen burnspot
Pupil paling
West, always
What do I call myself?
My sex deliquesced
An epicene, I'm a lover of honey bees
And toadstools
With plume
For tongue,
A curling fern:
We slip around like
Chartreuse chimera
In Lilliput ponds.
We dive in as
The tadpoles stop
To blend
At the empty
Of an underwater statue-
Arms like levers:
Blackening the coats
And peeling back
Crystal tortoise-shells;
Stripping time of
Itself –
We see the sky
Where it is skyless;
It remains an opal;
Patternless and
A sunken
In the bowl
Of your
:iconpiscesandthediamonds:Piscesandthediamonds 157 74


You've got a great piece here, this isn't about length but rather the conciseness in which you convey the idea. Simple nursery rhymes a...


Journal History

Microphones in the Trees

Journal Entry: Wed Aug 3, 2011, 7:56 AM

  • Listening to: Vienna Teng
  • Watching: Tokyo Gore Police
  • Playing: Assassins Creed: Brotherhood
  • Drinking: Milk


Andrew Hussey
Current Residence: Brantford ON, Canada
Favourite genre of music: Any really, I'm not into pop at all, but anything I think defines (or redefines) it's genr
Favourite style of art: Poetry, and Music
Operating System: Windows Vista
MP3 player of choice: Media Player usually
Favourite cartoon character: Lain or L from Death Note
Personal Quote: We are all luminous beings eclipsed by our humanity


Add a Comment:
pari-a Featured By Owner Aug 7, 2011  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the fave!
Zarathustras-Crown Featured By Owner Aug 7, 2011
Anytime...that's a hell of a piece...very nice...
bowie-loon123 Featured By Owner Aug 7, 2011  Student Writer
Thank you for joining :iconthewrittenrevolution:, we’re delighted to have you with us. Welcome to the revolution. :salute:

We’re quite a busy group. :aww: We just wrote a brand new article to let everyone know how the group is progressing. We also regularly post prompts and six word challenges for our members to try. And feel free to get involved in our contest! So check them out! :la: Also feel free to add us on Facebook and Twitter: @WrittenRevolt. :dance:
Ras-Barry Featured By Owner Jul 13, 2011
You´re welcome! Your gallery is really fascinating- I like it!^^
Zarathustras-Crown Featured By Owner Jul 13, 2011
Thank-you :) I do try...though it's been forever since I've posted...I'm glad you enjoy.
Sneeuw-Wolfskers Featured By Owner May 23, 2010
Somehow I feel like I haven't heard much from you in a while, by way of poetry or journal entries. What's up?
Zarathustras-Crown Featured By Owner Dec 21, 2010
You haven't, basically I'v just been eaten up by "real life" for a time...I apologize for just dropping off like that...I'll be back at the least relatively regularly now...I have a LOT of stuff to go through in my inbox :)
Sneeuw-Wolfskers Featured By Owner Dec 22, 2010
Oh, okay. It's good to see you back.
spoems Featured By Owner Dec 29, 2009   Writer
thank you for the fav and wonderful comments. :)
Zarathustras-Crown Featured By Owner Jan 3, 2010
Anytime :) I still have to go through a bit more thoroughly, now that the season's done maybe I'll have some time :)
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