PursuingTheCerberus

Write Until the End

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Pursuing the Cerberus by PursuingTheCerberus, literature

Literature

Pursuing the Cerberus

Pursuing The Cerberus [1994.] A shipwreck of fifteen. My mind spinning naked, rebellious wonders, clinging needfully to tattered fringes of teenage wasteland— a hologram only vital for the young. Innocent soul, wet ears, burrowed in books or dancing with ghosts privately upon paper during secret evenings fueled by an inescapable craving— CREATION. Just beginning a descent into the simulacrum of egg shell juvenilia, the inception of worlds where a young boy finally felt empowered, not shy, awkward, scared or taunted. Skewed by school, my puerile cortex still believed poetry a dusty beast only the most golden

Sleeping Children Are Still Flying by PursuingTheCerberus, literature

Literature

Sleeping Children Are Still Flying

Sleeping Children Are Still Flying red wagons pulled by snow owls like a chariot across the sun, through clouds, climbing ladders to a moon of Swiss cheese where dark craters are filled with raspberry and cherry shaved ice, hanging like stalactites above root beer sundae ponds. Forts constructed with dining room chairs, pillows, sheets are protected by a moat of lava, and nineteen catapult's to keep dragons at bay. The backyard is an ever-changing landscape, sometimes desert, sometimes forest, or ball field, and all the surrounding trees contain robotic ravens with fully functioning laser firing eyeballs to keep the bad people out-- It

Curse the Drowned Wrecks by PursuingTheCerberus, literature

Literature

Curse the Drowned Wrecks

Style is now a drowned wreck. Its been cheapened by soft, safe people who cannot write with a heart forged in lava, When they never fell into the volcano and lived to tell about it. ============================ COPYRIGHT 2014, William Barker All my work has copyrights with the Library of Congress. No usage without my permission regardless of circumstance.

A Scarecrow, Unlabeled by PursuingTheCerberus, literature

Literature

A Scarecrow, Unlabeled

Bukowski at his typewriter, a Royal or Underwood, dim room, smoke dancing around the dust-encrusted bulb like wispy serpents. Phone off the hook, the punch of keys, some frantic Morse code in the night only writer's see as symphonic. It's dead summer, an oscillating fan and open window fight the Los Angeles humidity. Our poet is shirtless, wearing only shorts, the stink of the city deep in his bones by now. A wine glass, half-filled with Pinot Noir, sits next to a small red radio, where Debussy ejaculates through the speaker. Nearby, a wastebasket overflows with empty beer, wine and whiskey bottles. Outside, dogs bark, couples q

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Pursuing the Cerberus by PursuingTheCerberus, literature

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Pursuing the Cerberus

Sleeping Children Are Still Flying by PursuingTheCerberus, literature

Literature

Sleeping Children Are Still Flying

By the Nape by PursuingTheCerberus, literature

Literature

By the Nape

The world is quiet at this earliest of hours. My cat lounges atop the writing desk pushing a pen around until it falls to the ground. Having no concept of time, she is awake only because I am. Difficult to fathom an existence of such profundity and freedom, but for the length of a poem, an indulgent duration where I see the universe through a detailed lens, like a horologist hunched over an antique watch. ============================ COPYRIGHT 2014, William Barker All my work has copyrights with the Library of Congress. No usage without my permission regardless of circumstance.

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The White Months by PursuingTheCerberus, literature

Literature

The White Months

Pensile sickles like phantom fingers along gutters Lengthy, crystalline, and gnarled Yearning to touch the nude trees below— Still lamenting their leaflessness The eye is guided towards the ground A stone womb for the white months Revealing nothing of its precious contents— Seeds, minerals, sleepy worms and clay Silent struggles through the long dark Hooded and layered or warmth of nests Awaiting the arrival of a sacred thawing Granting freedom from blue emptiness ============================ COPYRIGHT 2014, William Barker All my work has copyrights with the Library of Congress. No usage without my permission regardless of cir

Star Swallower by PursuingTheCerberus, literature

Literature

Star Swallower

She's an enigma. her head, a stadium drowning with applause. yet its seats are empty like the notebooks where armies of words should be marching. instead she dismantles clocks thinking she can play with time. behind the mountains lurks a darker reasoning a twisted labyrinth of rationalizations hidden from the suns brilliance. Years alone beneath the bleached fluorescent reading those already dancing in the moonlight. she is living a literary half-life through them hiding from the symmetry of the writer. licking salty rocks of excuses. saving her secrets for posthumous excavation. decades of productivity left for moths to chew. you're throw

My Father, the Drunkard by PursuingTheCerberus, literature

Literature

My Father, the Drunkard

Impossible to comprehend Why you clasped its clawed hand Disappearing into its wasteland Leaving a wife and two boys behind You missed chunks of our childhood Drowning yourself in polluted waters The sickness runs In the family blood Before five you were a father We'd take trips to the park Skipping stones, collecting rocks, And imagining ourselves Trapped on a desert isle or panning for gold Like a couple of prospectors. I'd help you with Around the house projects, we'd garden and tinker I'd show you my imaginings (a writer even way back then) As the sun began its dip and evening dripped Like dark roast coffee You morphed into

The Pale Bell by PursuingTheCerberus, literature

Literature

The Pale Bell

This house— Recently widowed and sorrowful— Is empty without her The walls wail, piercing the forever quiet No more shuffling about No more barking No more flicking of a pink tongue along fur No more clanking of collar and tags Nothing but deadly silence Though this is my childhood dwelling I feel as though it is unfamiliar, lifeless Scorched by missing fragments The walls wail Chipping and peeling Pieces of plaster plummeting Into the magma flow of the old red rug Furniture becoming brittle and wobbly Milk curdling in the carton Fruits and vegetables spoiling in the bins Everything Has gone to hell Leaving only The lamen

House Painter's Poem by PursuingTheCerberus, literature

Literature

House Painter's Poem

A spider's brittle body still clinging to a garage rafter Even in death gravity cannot touch her My breath, a wayward wind, saving the ant from a sticky sea The sickly sweet latex an alluring death armor Inch worms observe brushstrokes over my shoulder From their delicate strings they hang like marionettes A wasp chews wood to pulp laboriously shaping, sculpting Its paper fortress dangling like the weights on a cuckoo clock A caterpillar moves leisurely across the mulch With absolutely no idea how grand it will become ============================ COPYRIGHT 2014, William Barker All my work has copyrights with the Library of Congres

Shrinking Behind the Towers by PursuingTheCerberus, literature

Literature

Shrinking Behind the Towers

Evoking thought Anchoring my view Of worlds Piled high with only dust as their armor Silently they sit awaiting my return to them Much like my cat lying in the cubed sunlight Near the living room window clawing at a stuffed mouse I've labored lovingly for hours and days and weeks Helplessly, the years have gone over the falls in an old barrel Smashing against moss covered rocks beneath faint rainbows Watching towers of glory reach for the sun These everlasting extensions of the human spirit Penned in seclusion, like frail Emily in long hand Hoping one day to escape her terrible sadness Watching towers of glory reach for the moon Express

My Father, the Cold Turkey by PursuingTheCerberus, literature

Literature

My Father, the Cold Turkey

Cold as a Civil War-Era canon, as Shackleton's 114-year-old whiskey Cold as Icelandic glaciers, as leftover Thanksgiving turkey I have my father back He beat the beast with bare knucks Knocking back hurdles instead of brews Traveling along the road of lost time Surmounting obstacles he had assembled When demons began encircling him With their sweet, dark offerings A young man attending Jacksonville University Where he created pyramids with the empty cans Partying with fraternity brothers; Listening to Tull, Hendrix and Santana His degree eventually plopping him In New York City wearing a business suit As stresses grew My mother's

The Most Beautiful Shipwreck by PursuingTheCerberus, literature

Literature

The Most Beautiful Shipwreck

The wreckage of a ship scattered For miles beneath elder waters My broken body distorted By mounds of sand and silence You, dearest swimming nearby heard My song, understood that the world Had a need. That I had a need You gave me tender slices of patience Knowing I would be discovered Reborn from a watery grave Alone you succored my sadness Caressed these broken parts Salvaging from the wreckage What is sacred, what is loved Forever grateful for the breath of life For the offerings of adequate time To deconstruct labyrinthine structures With spools of words Guiding me to safety like lighthouses of old You handed me the sword of

Mother of the Forest by PursuingTheCerberus, literature

Literature

Mother of the Forest

You reigned In a remote mountainous region Deep in the unexplored American west A wondrous Queen Guarding the North Grove— Your grove for over two-thousand years! Tender matriarch Three hundred foot colossus With love in your bark and stout heartwood Rumors of solid gold mountains, Along with many other outlandish legends Brought the curious to your western woods Among them, a businessman named George Gale Seeking to prove claims of giant trees as truth When he saw you, he named you Mother When he saw you, your beauty was second To the opportunity he saw in you For his own fame and fortune Twenty-five days you battled The barbarit

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Lit of the Week 137! by EliteLiterature, journal

Lit of the Week 137!

Jan 11, 2015

Pursuing the Cerberus PursuingTheCerberus (https://www.deviantart.com/pursuingthecerberus) :thumb489695552: Bukowski / took me down / the path of daggers i want bangingonkeyboards (https://www.deviantart.com/bangingonkeyboards) :thumb490035304: i want your car, you and me and highways. i want the night pressed against us and the air thick with sufjan stevens and your voice. Pressure CDing93 (https://www.deviantart.com/cding93) :thumb491159626: Scraping by, / Chest dressed in / Glistening red satin Have something to suggest for Lit of the Week? Drop either LionesseRampant (https://www.deviantart.com/lionesserampant) or me a note, or leave a comment here!

two minutes at the bottom of the ocean by insomniaplague, literature

Literature

two minutes at the bottom of the ocean

i open my eyes and the room is underwater a refraction of light-- a trout tail flicked & then the sediment settles like dysentery, this narcoleptic soul to pulse, spin into a paralysis of the no-- this is the pressure that creaks in my bones: this is the space between my mouth and my mind & the few centimeters between my ears are pulsing with the things I cannot get to my hands but my head is not a fucking ocean: it's a flaw in chemistry

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A Scarecrow, Unlabeled by PursuingTheCerberus, literature

Literature

A Scarecrow, Unlabeled

PursuingTheCerberus

Deviation Spotlight

Star Swallower by PursuingTheCerberus, literature

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Star Swallower

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About PursuingTheCerberus

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Artist // Professional // Literature

Nov 14
United States
Deviant for 13 years
He / Him

Badges

Delicious Cake: My, that's a delicious cake (1)

My Bio

Writers I adore:
Charles Bukowski, Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, Michael McClure, Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, John Berryman, Harte Crane, Arthur Rimbaud, Rainer Maria Rilke, Walt Whitman, Charles Baudelaire, John Berryman, F.Scott Fitzgerald, Galway Kinnel, Elizabeth Bishop, T.S. Elliot, EE Cummings, Emily Dickinson, Billy Collins, Tony Hoagland, Buddy Wakefield, Andrea Gibson, Anis Mojgani, AR Ammons, JK Rowling, Robert Jordan, Guy Gavriel Kay, Stephen R. Donaldson, JRR Tolkien, CS Lewis, HP Lovecraft, Robert E. Howard

Favourite Movies

Kill Bill, Insidious, Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, Planet Terror, Death Proof, Inglorious Bastards, Inception, Goonies, Lost Boys, Boondock Saints,

Favourite TV Shows

Californication, Dexter, Spartacus, True Blood

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Coheed & Cambria, Opeth, Between the Buried and Me, AFI, Dream Theater, Porcupine Tree, Circa Survive, The Dear Hunter, Mastodon, Tesseract, Protest the Hero, Haken, Leprous, Isis, King Crimson, ELP, The Mars Volta, Periphery, Pink Floyd, Rush

Favourite Books

Last Night of the Earth Poems by Charles Bukowski, Love is a Dog From Hell by Charles Bukowski, The Dark Tower series by Stephen King

Favourite Writers

Charles Bukowski, Anne Sexton, Sylvia Plath, Arthur Rimbaud, Jim Morrison, Charles Baudelaire, Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz, Galway Kinnel, EE Cummings, TS Elliot, Edgar Allen Poe, HP Lovecraft, Robert E. Howard

Favourite Games

Guitar Hero, Rock Band, Resident Evil 4 & 5, Bioshock, Uncharted 1, 2, 3

Favourite Gaming Platform

Playstation

Tools of the Trade

Keyboard, Notebook, Pen, Fingertips

Other Interests

COFFEE, Skeleton Keys, Dragonflies, Autumn, Lighthouses, Castles, abandoned places, broken things

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PursuingTheCerberus

Mar 12, 2015

New Book of Poems on Amazon!

0 min read

Hey there all my friends, writers, poets, and fans. I'm busy raising a toddler, but I'm still writing nearly every day! Very sorry that I haven't been present in the community much over the last 18 months, but raising a brand new human being will do that to you!! I would appreciate it tremendously if you would head on over to Amazon and check out my new book of poetry: Sleeping Children Are Still Flying.  Here is the link: http://www.amazon.com/Sleeping-Children-Are-Still-Flying/dp/1507680112/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1426182551&sr=1-1&keywords=sleeping+children+are+still+flying Any support you guys can throw my way i

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PursuingTheCerberus

Oct 29, 2014

I Got Lit of the Week!

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I just wanted to thank everyone over at EliteLiterature (https://www.deviantart.com/eliteliterature) for giving my poem: Shakespeare & The Goodwill Store, lit of the week this week!! It's been a very rough week and this truly is an honor to receive.   It definitely brightened my day because I know the absolutely astounding work that is featured/submitted over there on a daily basis. So THANK YOU, again!!!!! This is my second time being featured (the first was for: Birdmen a month or two ago (?) but the first time being featured with a BRAND NEW POEM from my upcoming book. Really happy everyone is liking it so much, I'm real proud of it.

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PursuingTheCerberus

Sep 28, 2014

New Poetry Book and Huge Life Changes

0 min read

Hello there friends & followers here on dA Hope everyone is doing well and being productive in their respective creative arts. The last year I have been mostly absent from here and that is because I now have a beautiful baby boy named Gavin Jude! The last thirteen months have been some of the most beautiful and most trying of my life, but I wouldn't take a single moment of it back.  The highs have certainly outweighed the lows.  As you can imagine, my internet time is limited and though I still write every day, I've found it impossible to keep up with deviations/journals/commenting or even updating my own deviations/page.  I've missed d

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Profile Comments 370

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Sammur-amat

Nov 14, 2014

Happy birthday, dear sir. May this year hold unlimited opportunities and unforgettable moments of happiness for you and your loved ones! Cheers!

PursuingTheCerberus

Nov 14, 2014

THANK YOU!

Sammur-amat

Nov 17, 2014

you are most welcome!

Jade-Pandora

Nov 14, 2014

William! Many happy returns of the day, YOUR very special day --

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

I hope it's your bestest EVER!

thank you, Jade!!!!

Hello, thanks for the faves

PursuingTheCerberus

Nov 10, 2014

my pleasure!! I've always been obsessed with collage art, since I was a child when I used to make collages out of food imagery from coupons, etc.

I have a secret stash of material (piles and piles) and I hope one day to try my hand at the form! Between my 14 month old, being self-employed and writing full-time, I just don't have the time and I think dabbling is disrespectful to the form.

Anyway....really love what you're doing! Do you do collage commissions by any chance? I'm a published poet and I always need cover art for future books.

Drop me a note if you want, regarding the commissions.