Sonnateer

Emma

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Lifting the Latch by Sonnateer, literature

Literature

Lifting the Latch

What shadows did you watch, intertwining with your dreams, coupling like ancient snakes to make the voice of the Lord? Did you wonder at their feeling, as they grabbed your trembling child's hand to pull you towards dark visions that lurk behind closet doors only a trustworthy prophet can enter? You dream of sweat and fingerprints, the whispers of a body exiled from God refusing to fade no how many times you open your eyes. They linger, immaterial and unrealized like the proclamations of a mute priest. You watched the people you love grow blind and deaf and you cried out for your senses not to forsake you, but even in the br

Her Concave Chest by Sonnateer, literature

Literature

Her Concave Chest

They spun her out on stages like Arachne for all the gods to judge, crafting a corset from a single word. It shimmered in the harsh and shifty light, a verdict left up and down her body. Her ribs, unused to the weight, extinguished what little breathing room they left her. The man she loved, repulsed by the black lines the light drew across her face shouted "May it break your back, I have no need for such a woman!" Her body closed in on her, a spider suffocating in an alien web. And she found she envied those who could spin their lives like glass or bright read thread between their finders without the weight of divine Judgmen

Apathy as Cancer by Sonnateer, literature

Literature

Apathy as Cancer

The flintlock fanaticism of violent grammaticism flowed in the quality of his breath like smoke, ash not worth the cheap change rate of the cigarettes like rolls of coins crammed down his throat. He was damned by blind men. Left torn and tearful by the raw awareness of groping in the dark. He knew the weight of the gutless, similar cripples who sold him cigarettes. The day he shot himself it rained. His brothers pained by such a cancerous farewell arranged the funeral, choking on childhood fears. They never again entered a room without a light.

Old Nightclubs by Sonnateer, literature

Literature

Old Nightclubs

I love how you feel like a Billie Holiday song, or a blues poem crammed affectionately in my back pocket with a half- life in cigarettes. There is a science to our forgetfulness, maybe it was the smoke that made you vanish, or the gin, or maybe it was when I surpassed the proper amount of yearning. Walking home that night, heavy with empty glasses and last requests, I hummed an old jazz tune and surrendered to it.

Mockingbird Juries by Sonnateer, literature

Blood and Treasure by Sonnateer, literature

Literature

Blood and Treasure

I was the calf, slaughtered when the prodigal son returned home, his bastard smirk bright as he bathed in the blood of my mothers. I waited for him, his bride with a price on my haunches. He came to me, his sense dulled and debased by wines of forgiveness, his smile as a demon's who has found redemption sour. And he will lean me back and slaughter me again and again for each of his sins. Does he recall my price? Of course, to him I am a whore or piece of meat with too much fat, no never mind… I am paid for in blood and have no Father waiting for me. So I will watch the pure son's eyes, as I am taken beneath his bro

This Body's Good Friday by Sonnateer, literature

Literature

This Body's Good Friday

Was it the mechanics of the act that made you incomprehensible, like when I tried to slip you from these bonds and slide you from your clothes? No, it was rather when you smiled at the thought of eternity and reasoned if a poem was a year, then that would explain my old aversion to casual couplings and coarse conversations. Why then did you not just drag me naked through the streets and have God gaze at His heretic, Hellish, cowardly and impotent? You left me on my mountain where the eagle devours not my liver, but my loins, and longing for such feeling might restore them. Yes, you will see me rise whole and able

To Lay to Quiet Rest by Sonnateer, literature

Literature

To Lay to Quiet Rest

The day dawned in past tense hymns resounding across the sea like sinking stones. It dawned in the white dress She wore as the waves folded in pilgrimage upon her once bright brow. It dawned two days from Heaven when each testament of her was cast in stone, cast into the ocean and there was no Christ to kiss the waves with the soles of his feet and retrieve them. It dawned the day she whispered "At least we have poets." The day dawned on heresies they threw like stones so even the waves could not wash away the bruises. Was it Christ walking, on the water, dark as an empty tomb that caused that day to dawn? No she neve

On Hymns by Sonnateer, literature

Literature

On Hymns

These delicate trepidations must be worth preserving for your tights and plaid skirt are unnerving me to the highest degree of ecstasy and stuttering is an art like cataloguing song-lyrics. We are smoked-out bad decisions and head-long collisions with spirituality in snapped guitar strings. I collided with your tights and plaid skirt while tasting God in the ancient vocal harmonies of a second-hand record store, leaving me too disoriented to say more than "Would you like to dance?"

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Lifting the Latch by Sonnateer, literature

Literature

Lifting the Latch

Her Concave Chest by Sonnateer, literature

Literature

Her Concave Chest

Apathy as Cancer by Sonnateer, literature

Literature

Apathy as Cancer

Old Nightclubs by Sonnateer, literature

Literature

Old Nightclubs

Mockingbird Juries by Sonnateer, literature

Blood and Treasure by Sonnateer, literature

Literature

Blood and Treasure

This Body's Good Friday by Sonnateer, literature

Literature

This Body's Good Friday

To Lay to Quiet Rest by Sonnateer, literature

Literature

To Lay to Quiet Rest

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About Sonnateer

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Artist

Sep 5
United States
Deviant for 13 years
sonnateers365.tumblr.com/
She / Her

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My Bio

Current Residence: B-More
Favourite style of art: Poetry, it's not a style but still

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Bruce Springsteen, Broken Records, Heavens, The World/Inferno Friendship Society

Other Interests

Anything Lit related

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Sonnateer

May 21, 2012

Coming Back (sort of)

0 min read

Hey all so I know I haven't posted anything on here in months and months but I think I'm going to start posting poems on here again. Now I doubt I'm going to post that frequently, but I do want to start using DA for submitting stuff again. I am primarily using this account to browse art however, so I'm definitely willing to give anyone feedback who wants it. Sorry for internet dying.

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Sonnateer

Aug 24, 2011

Hello!

0 min read

So I recently was awarded a daily deviation (which I was incredibly honoured by) and I just wanted to say hello to any new watchers. I appreciate music and poetry recommendations. Also thank you all!

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Sonnateer

Jun 4, 2011

An Old Book

0 min read

It is now officially summer and, as an IB senior next year, this means that I must begin work on my Extended Essay. The EE is a ten page research paper on basically whatever we want. I decided to do mine on Virginia Woolf and her portrayal of the "Modern Woman". I decided to analyze the texts Mrs. Dalloway, Orlando (which is one of my two all time favorite books) and A Room of One's Own. Anyway I thought it would be wise to read the books in chronological order, mhich meant Mrs. Dalloway would be my first text. I've never read the book but was fairly certain we had a copy in my house. Unable to find it in our library I went to my parents' be