LaBruyere

Lit chick. Poet. Grad Student.

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Fire and Ice by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

Fire and Ice

I feel you as a wave of deepest pain And you and I crash forcefully on shores Of midnight islands; sometimes summer rain And other times the icy tide takes o’er. The heat pounds down in fire and boiling blood Touching mountains, towers, rivers full. The ice then hisses in, a frigid flood, And I’m as tough as stone and cold and dull. I feel you in the night and long for waves Crashing, warm, with starlight skies above To break through stone to find what my heart craves Though lips cannot confess or profess love. I feel you while I long for freedom yet; And you fall through the ice of cold regret.

It Feels Like it Will Never End by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

It Feels Like it Will Never End

Where goes the pain that flows in rivers full Of anguish down the mountainside of flesh Carrying the crushed and broken hulls Of ships that sailed once between the breasts? The pain, the blackest soot of washed out fires Muddies rivers deep, so much flows out. Is the water black or red? Inquire If you should dare, if you would bring about The wrath and tangled torment of the heart Whence flow the rivers. It knows not indeed Which color carves the mountainside apart Nor which is deepest; both course fast and bleed. Now shall the river flow with blood or tears? One offers death, the other, anguished years.

Light of Stars by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

Light of Stars

The light of stars is burning high above; So faint, they shimmer far beyond my reach. I cannot fathom universal love No not like this; not as I here beseech The love abiding far beyond them hear My plea for hope in darkness that persists. The void between us stretches. Love, come near And take the cold and aching in my fists. Turn it into life, to flesh and bone, Take my heart and split it with the light Of glory that comes to me, here, alone Beneath the stars in silent, waiting night. The fear that crowds out radiance must flee Before the light that waits in hope for me.

All My Paths by LaBruyere, literature

Expectations by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

Expectations

My expectations conquer caution thus: They breed the “musts” and “should have beens” and I Can feel “perfection” overtaking trust. My day too often starts out on a lie And by the end I feel beat down and tired, Unable to feel joy in every day And in the little triumphs strewn throughout. I wish I could with fervor drive away The oft increasing fear and growing doubt And leave aside my expectations. This Is my dilemma: how do I do well And follow to the letter all my lists Of perfect, pretty everything? it’s hell To be a slave to what I think is me And never let my imperfections be.

Love and Light by LaBruyere, literature

My Stardust by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

My Stardust

My eyes have seen the glory of the stars Shining in the corners of your smile. They see the growing solar flare you are That I have longed to cradle for awhile. A supernova, fire in your veins Compacted into star stuff two feet tall And glorious as nebulae. I gained A speck within the universe, is all But you, to me, are galaxies of light And love of you could fill the sun and more. My moon and stars, my harbor in the night, I wait for all the wonder that's in store. Your story will be sunbeams in the skies, I know; I see the stardust in your eyes.

The Weight of Reliance by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

The Weight of Reliance

I took the hope you offered, clenched in fists Still dried with blood and tears and without trust. No matter how I walked, each step was risk Without the father I had reckoned just. Forward and still forward into night So irretrievably the past pressed in; My heart I'd hid in shadows from your sight Began to beat in double time. Begin The work you started, over; carry me As I have carried love and joy and lost-- But do not lose me, do not lose her: we Are cradled in a promise, crushed and tossed Forever in the hands of neutral will And I am begging love will win out still.

There is No Flaw in You by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

There is No Flaw in You

As an apple tree Or a young stag Is my lover. Finest and loveliest; Warrior and king. In the night I sought him On my bed I longed for him Until my desire roused me to walk the city But I found him not. In the watches of the night we have met And his arms embraced me. But our time is not yet come, and I adjure you Daughters of Jerusalem Do not awaken love Until it so desires. I have captivated him With mere glances. Like a garden locked Or a fountain sealed Am I to him. Do not arouse love Until it so desires.

Smoke and Ash by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

Smoke and Ash

The ash had fallen round about the mountain and she waits Her remnants covered fields of green with black and dusty night. After her eruption came a quiet death, a state Of cold and distant solitude and some quaked at the sight. But come the morning light, the fire Has faded to a glow; her ire Dwindles to a gentle wind Of hope and peace come round again. So slowly do the molten trails that reach for miles create The greenest grass and brightest flowers as time sets things aright. Below the earth her belly fills with life, and fire gestates But in the meantime comes the hope of life and growth and light. The vulcan landscape, built yet higher

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Fire and Ice by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

Fire and Ice

It Feels Like it Will Never End by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

It Feels Like it Will Never End

Light of Stars by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

Light of Stars

All My Paths by LaBruyere, literature

Expectations by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

Expectations

Love and Light by LaBruyere, literature

My Stardust by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

My Stardust

The Weight of Reliance by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

The Weight of Reliance

There is No Flaw in You by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

There is No Flaw in You

Smoke and Ash by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

Smoke and Ash

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Flesh and Stone by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

Flesh and Stone

I wish I had a heart that's after yours. I wish I was more patient, soft, and kind. I wish my spirit walked in step, forbore The harshest suffering with peace of mind. But the process is painstaking slow Than ever it has been in me so far. I don't know why my spirit won't let go Or yield to to be with you where you are. And yet I know you do not hurry this And let it take its time, as roots dig down To where the heart is dark, and heaven's kiss Reaches out to where the spirit drowns. This sin-stained heart in me recoils and fights Even while it longs to live in light.

Anastasia by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

Anastasia

The darkness in the morning first holds out As fierce as night in triumph holds my soul Hostage. I love stars for all their light Hope comes in dawn to fill the darkest holes And hollows in the universe. The morn Shakes firmly out the tendrils of the night And I am no less cleared of darkened mood Than if my eyes were stars with paling light Now lit with ember warmth and turned on high. I leave my shaded, starlit bed and rise Alive with hope as time brings forth the day And dawn and joy both greet my tired eyes.

NaPo XXX. You Know My Name by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

NaPo XXX. You Know My Name

The universe is full of matter. Black And formless and without substantial being. Years exist between the stuff of stars And time and consciousness have little meaning. Warmth and light exists each million years As light, compelled to travel, pierces space With nothing in between but unknown stuff And here a little planet holds its place. And on it matter takes the form of beings And in it hearts are made of tissue, strung Between the bones and blood of sudden life Alive and full of something. Mind is hung Upon the soul imparted with a need To know you and to fall within your aim. This matter with a mind exists in space, And in all the un

NaPo XXIII. Magnum Opus by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

NaPo XXIII. Magnum Opus

I will not reach my best before I die. Perhaps upon my passing, I'll confer A greater worth to all my pen supplied And maybe one or two will be preferred By readers who come after. But not yet-- Oh no, I've miles to go before I sleep. Four hundred fifty years, and they'll forget I ever lived, for poems may not keep. But maybe one will turn up on a page Folded in a journal, faded ink And read by my descendants in an age When such archaic words will make them think. I'll raise a glass of tea to that and pray That future daughters give their best this way.

NaPo XXVII. Philosophe by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

NaPo XXVII. Philosophe

The love of wisdom is no love per se. It acts like dusty, passionless old tomes And gives no warmth of moonlit nights to they Who bade fair wisdom call their hearts her home. For rather, philosophe, you dwell on ink And put to death vitality and comb The nits of truth from scalps of those who think. Cry havoc, thou pursuers of the taint Which mars the minds of those who boldly drink Of correspondent truth, proceed to paint The world in terms of logic paired with faith. Go label such impassioned fools as saints And take up ways of life which glow on paper Ye named as wisdom's lovers while ye hate her.

NaPo II. Armchairs in my Brain by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

NaPo II. Armchairs in my Brain

Come heavily into my midst and in this sterile mind Come sort the folds and pocketbooks of all I left behind. It's all just so and sharp and cold and filled with corners. Here: Come douse the stacks of hardened facts and set fire to my fear. The stodgy thoughts with pipes and beards which habitate my brain May take their armchair theories and refrain to come again. Cast fertile dirt o'er all the tomes which talk themselves to death And let the wisdom bloom again which gives the spirit breath. How heartily the bellows blow their tiny candle flames Into a fire of nonsense which then stifles and defames. So sort away the good of words which ha

Composed in Burning Purpose by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

Composed in Burning Purpose

One sonnet from the hands that raise, alive One syllable, one word, one turn of phrase Like rolling waves, the moments, they arrive-- Like light and life crescendoed on for days. So strike, composer, notes, and wave your hand Through music in the air. And raise your eyes You dancers on the stage-- now take a stand-- The lights, the orchestra, the thunder dies. For this is all you ever fully loved-- This moment full of life that no one knows. Oh yes, they see and hear and read enough But you, alone, give birth in painless throes To glory wrought in burning purpose. Give Your everything to that for which you live.

5. Emptiness of Space by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

5. Emptiness of Space

If you, who are the emptiness of space Fill all that is and was and will yet be, And to beholders have a nameless face, And see the future as a memory, Why then do you watch sparrows' darting flight, Or give a name to roses and to stars? It seems one such as you, who fills the night Would need no lowly souls, yet here we are. You know the name of all my moods and fears And all the inner longings of my heart. You know the number of my hairs and years And give thought for the whole and all the parts. Such staggering minutiae fill your hand, While galaxies are all yours to command.

8. Beside Quiet Waters by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

8. Beside Quiet Waters

This grace flows down to us out of your hand, Proffered for the pilgrim's shortened rest In fields of fescue, bent with dew. Such land As makes the weary soul to feel refreshed. Your grace grants rest beside the flowing streams, And pools where all is quiet cleanse the grime. The gates of Heaven tickle at our dreams, And peace has brought a roadblock for a time. Stillness of the soul in vales long dead And banquets with such men as cause great fear Are meant for those who trust and rest their heads Giving love a chance to draw them near. Patience taught all our tired souls have learned, And we are blessed beyond what we have earned.

Merely Stars by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

Merely Stars

All that we thought was lost is merely stars, Burning brighter still than moon or sun; But far, so far we cannot call them ours, Waiting out of reach and never won. This twilight drives an arrow through my soul, Clinging to the dust at end of day. Never to regain what bounty stole, Driving all we ever were away. You will always be my summer weather, Warm and pure in ways I'll never know. Gently in the blades of grass and heather, 'Twas you who held my hand and wouldn't go. How far we've come and oh, how far apart-- So bright must burn the stars that light our hearts.

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DFC XXVIII. Diebhidhe: Dawn to Dust by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

DFC XXVIII. Diebhidhe: Dawn to Dust

Yes I fight you--yes for us A raging love's rightful lust New becoming day by day, Loving woes and wants away. Yes, I trust you--yes to you Hold my heart, marked whole and new, Full of darkness, feigned delight Reigns the noiseless rule of night. When I love, what have I left? You have brought me all your best. This shall carry, shorn and cruel Married, mournful, forlorn, a fool. All I am in pockets pressed All our poor souls once possessed Each to other, eager, thrust Beseech thee, lover, dawn to dust.

tempus edax rerum by Blacksand459, literature

Literature

tempus edax rerum

like a mirage in the heat the marmalade moon hangs low against the mind silent as we, but crazed, crazed as the flame this was the resurrection in the desert I have no culture; hands lie with religion; laugh in the troughs between the waves whitecaps; here in this room, desiring you as a foreign sail threadbare against the sun on the long shore, lit by the moon I'd be substantial yet hidden pouring a Scotch to live in a name as raiment, as songs of the harp-player and nobody buys- that's the way they are an ancient bankrupt master of this house brandishing the sword far now from all the bannered ways who has no aim but to

sanctus bell by Blacksand459, literature

Psalm 63 by Parsat, literature

Literature

Psalm 63

I seek you earnestly, I thirst and burn With longing just to see you glorious fame; Your love better than life, I live and yearn To praise you with my soul and bless your name. I stay up late, and ponder through the night, Beneath the darkest shadow of your wings; My soul hides from the cruelty of might, From the ruin vindication brings. Rejoice, rejoice with all your loudest voice!

Every Single Path by Parsat, literature

Literature

Every Single Path

His paths are lovingkindness, they are truth; Each winding road, not merely those I choose As I approach the waning of my youth. Not dwelling on all that I have to lose, I look and see what covenants have bound This life together, made it sound and whole. I think of testimonies: surer ground To walk and make the value of the toll. Oh how they keep me in my wanderings deep!

Levels of Grief by Parsat, literature

Literature

Levels of Grief

We all began where Psalms of lament must: Within the confines of a cavernous grief, In utter darkness, pain as coarse as dust. My soul there waited for the Lord’s relief, His hand to lift, His face to shine with favor. And when He came I could not help but sing With joy that only pain could help me savor, With gratitude for His delivering. But those who walked before me lagged behind, The darkness hid their morass underneath; Now years have passed, but still their mired minds Have yet to move those weary, grieving feet. I’d hoped by now the whole Psalm they’d rehearse, But they have yet to pass the second verse.

Light of Stars by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

Light of Stars

Life Tanka by LaBruyere, literature

Another Octacula Approaches by ProjectDFC, journal

Another Octacula Approaches

Sep 28, 2017

:thumb560853915: :thumb560853915: :thumb560853915: Stamp made by the formidable and fierce HugQueen (https://www.deviantart.com/hugqueen) - go give love! Welcome To the Third, Annual Welcome to the third year of Octacula! In honour of October and all it cree-eights, Octacula shall reign throughout the entirety of the month. Whether it's the tenth month or the eighth (Oct as in eight baby). Octacula features eight forms divided into two groups. The first group consists of: :ninjabattle::matrixfight: Form-idable Foes :matrixfight::ninjabattle: Chant Royal: The Chainsaw Wielding Psychopath The Chant Royal is a murderous French form, invented by Christine de Pizan and C

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4.27: Sophia by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

4.27: Sophia

Why is it all my weary days are spent In turning cowslips into rays of sun And floating over blades of grass, unbent And drawing four conclusions out of one? No mercy hath the stone and wooden fence All rimmed with perfect glass which holds the sound Of freedom outside. Dominating sense Will pin imagination to the ground. Forbear. The time will come when wind and rain Will wash away the mud and dust of youth. To cling to hope which calls aloud again Is to rely on dust to hasten truth. I turn my days of sunlight scattered over And know the truth comes soon to wisdom's lover.

4.27: Sophia

LaBruyere

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I Have Loved the Stars Too Fondly by LaBruyere, literature

Literature

I Have Loved the Stars Too Fondly

These vast expanses broader than the skies And deeper than the ocean, just as blue Are unobtainable from where the view Is struck by light and hidden from my eyes. Oh marvels of the farthest-reaching space, Oh nebulae, oh planets, ancient stars, Already naked eyes have fought such wars To glimpse beyond the darkness to your face. And light which grows with centuries has bled Still higher in the night and drowned you out. My city home has left my eyes in doubt That worlds of breathless beauty I have read Exist, nor are they found where'er I look: All space confined in pages of a book.

I Have Loved the Stars Too Fondly

LaBruyere

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About LaBruyere

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Artist // Hobbyist

United States
Deviant for 17 years
downfromparnassus.wordpress.com/
She / Her

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I've seen it: It's Coming -- Stay Tuned!

My Bio

Perpetual student. Lover of fixed form poetry. Apprentice theologian and philosopher.

Favourite Writers

Georgette Heyer, Tolkein, C.S Lewis, Jane Austen

Tools of the Trade

Sketchbook, pencil, Wacom Graphire, PS7, prismacolors, random paper.

Other Interests

Reading, French, internet, sketching, writing, web design, and so forth.

Posts

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LaBruyere

Apr 1, 2018

Who else is doing NaPoWriMo this year?

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LaBruyere

May 8, 2017

Little Bean is here

0 min read

Hello all. Thought I'd have more time and energy to write at the end of the year, but I knew I wouldn't get to NaPoWriMo since my baby girl was due in April. In fact she came a bit early on the 9th, so she's a month tomorrow. Definitely don't have time for writing now! Haha. Maybe as she gets older and I can put her down without her screaming, but then she'll be crawling and I'll be chasing her. So who knows! Haha. Love you all and appreciate your support of me and my work. My baby girl is a precious gift and honestly she's the most beautiful artwork I've ever made. :) Peace and lattes, Bru

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LaBruyere

Oct 21, 2016

Hope After the Storm

0 min read

Some of you know what happened to me this summer simply by reading the two poems that expressed the suffering I was going through as a result. After those two, I couldn't write about it anymore and haven't been on dA in months. There are thousands of items in my inbox and I doubt I'll catch up on them. But thank you to those who have continued to stop by and found inspiration in my work. I wanted to let you all know that my husband and I have been blessed with a profound gift: our rainbow baby, we hope and pray, is due in April of next year, and so far this pregnancy has gone well. It's possible I will resume writing soon. I hope to become