Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login
About Deviant Artist Stella NotteFemale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 8 Years
Needs Core Membership
Statistics 25 Deviations 1,707 Comments 6,201 Pageviews
×

Newest Deviations

Literature
a grain against the universe
I like the way the word, "threat," sounds in my throat.
It sounds like a big rope or maybe a cord about to break or some heartstrings about to snap inside me, my throat, like the letters rhythmically thumping in my chest, like boom-boom-boom. Ka-boom. Heartstrings snapping in my voice box, a silent, small little sliver of a whisper, saying little bits of danger and mystery and hinting darkness and hope being smashed up and ground up.
A threat. Lumpy in my throat, down my chest, sink to my stomach, sink. Just the word, though.
Threats are nothing in real life. They're empty and false and just stupid things to try to make you do something that you pretend you don't want to do but you really want to, even though it's horrible and evil and something no one would accept. Or maybe you don't want to do it, but you're falling for it, because you don't know how to resist and you're scared you'll just sink, and die, and be gone, and no one will remember you. No one will care. You're going to fad
:iconStellaNotte:StellaNotte
:iconstellanotte:StellaNotte 7 29
Literature
a lot like spots on my fur
it's a lot like falling asleep on a bus
or having cracked lips when you cry
maybe like white shoelaces that aren't white anymore
or my fucked up doodles about death.
it's like how i pretend to understand things when i don't
and tell people i want to say whatever i want because that's what they want to hear
and maybe like quiet midsummer nights
and a bag of different colored stones
like how i used to think words meant things
like how my favorite toy has a stupid ketchup stain
or how its song died after i pressed the button too much.
a little bit like yellow lined paper waiting for pens
and hopeless romantics who met their prince charming
like that really ugly passport photo you're never going to use anyway
or your old graduation gown.
or that leopard-print pencilcase you almost traded away
and then cried for
a lot like thin curtains making your room all fuzzy and golden
and how you painted your toenails seashell pink
like gibberish i'm speaking because this just doesn't make sense
a lot
:iconStellaNotte:StellaNotte
:iconstellanotte:StellaNotte 1 15
Literature
celebrate today.
pieces of sweet sky pressed against the roof of my mouth
and dipped in black ink that paints our past
compressed into tiny tinsel dolls that repeat their history
why, it's just like before!
and she has different colored magnets on her fridge
she says it's her collection, a work of art
silver-tipped branches reaching for a drink of sky
welcome to the miracle.
and there you are, bare feet on dew-touched grass
blades sifting through your toes
and mountains in the distance trying not to fade
but the moon eats them whole.
it's like how a rainbow doesn't always form after storms
like how memories are kept alive by
sunspots peeking through the trees and run
like a deer.
since my thoughts here in this middle-of-nowhere are scribbles
like this far-away paradise
i thought maybe you would like
a taste of red and pink and yellow.
:iconStellaNotte:StellaNotte
:iconstellanotte:StellaNotte 5 22
Literature
island of mirages.
i. and you were a believer in things.
you told me make a wish upon a star,
you told me that eyelashes were for blowing,
and you told me so cracked ice was see-through.
maybe.
ii. sometimes i sit alone at night and let the moon eat the sky.
you would never understand that because you were a believer in things and i was a skeptic of things and i said wildflowers were for stepping on, not for picking.
you were too stubborn to hear the ugly truths and i was too stupid to see the sweeter ones.
iii. a flimsy tinman with one leg rides a looseleaf boat to his master's house and the paperdoll princess falls in love.
mere mirages of untruths.
iv. six strokes and a lotus is born,
is what you said about kanji and orange blossoms.
always pick the pretty words, you,
and let me choose out the rotten ones that say
flowers are flowers are flowers wilted and
language is nothing but human invention.
cloud-watching and daydreaming- good enough for me.
v. everything is overrated.
you are overrated.
a wish
:iconStellaNotte:StellaNotte
:iconstellanotte:StellaNotte 4 4
Literature
eleven things to say.
eleven.
I don't know where to start with you.
My life at that point was a blur, a quick flash of drama where everyone seemed to hate me, loathe me, fear me. (Except for you, that is.)
Maybe you pitied me or maybe your mom made you talk to me or maybe you really liked me after all.
Where are you now, what have you achieved now, who do you embody now?
I haven't talked to you in years and maybe you don't remember me. (And maybe you do.)
I don't know.
ten.
I pretend not to understand you because I'm scared of the truth.
Your scrap of truth, a tiny, measly little thing flung in my face, was something I wanted to avoid at all costs, but that caused me more pain in the end. Your small grimy stringlet of truth that weighed me down everyday.
And let me say I'm sorry.
I am a selfish little bastard. I made you think things that were not lies but not truths either. Little in-betweens, like you and me.
Except you were a little off, I remember.
nine.
I regret a lot of things, bu
:iconStellaNotte:StellaNotte
:iconstellanotte:StellaNotte 5 7
Literature
the tree in brooklyn.
i. I don't like arithmatic, she said.
Numbers that are always sure they're in the right place. Numbers that are always sure they'll know what to do.
ii. His crystallic eyes scanned her face for reassurance.
Fibonacci's lost thereom, he said. A mathematician.
Sister, do you know what he and I believed?

How nature is numbers and numbers are nature.
iii. The tree in Brooklyn, he told her, is math.
as a sapling he had one branch,
and one branch only,
one branch to reach for the sky and the sun and its glory.
Then he had three. Then five. Then eight, thirteen, twenty-one... fifty-five.
Fibbonaci's numbers. Infused with God.
iv. There's never a right answer, she said.
There's no right and wrong in Nature, no right and wrong in the Earth.
Only numbers do that.
Let them share the same fate, she said.
Let me pick my own path.
v. Let me choose what m i s t a k e s to make.
Let me choose what r e g r e t s to create.
Let me choose what I will b e , she said.
:iconStellaNotte:StellaNotte
:iconstellanotte:StellaNotte 0 4
Literature
landing in 3... 2... 1.
i. you told me you would fall off the face of earth.
you liked the moon. you told me it was the passage to the great milky way.
you told me the stars were the stepping stones over the water that was the night sky.
comets, the igniting fuels that brought you around the world.
ii. sometimes i want to break free from where i am and fly away. i am a bird.
but birds can't fly away from the earth they are suspended to.
for those who cannot out, the birds.
we are stuck.
iii. i tell myself i am a civilized human being but this is a lie.
i know that i am not a part of society but
i am the hole in my heart that grows hate
the piece of my soul that cries defeat.
i hang deferred at the thought of my crushed dreams and the cruel ones.
iv. we always hope for a perfect life, to stay innocent forevermore.
i want to penetrate the bindings that hold me from escaping
but even out there,
there are always black holes.
like everywhere else.
we can never escape.
v. you are not strong like me and you are not
:iconStellaNotte:StellaNotte
:iconstellanotte:StellaNotte 1 6
specks of stardust. :iconstellanotte:StellaNotte 1 5
Literature
lamenting lullabies.
i. Silver films of stardust scope his azure eyes.
He gazes fixedly upon the ripples of silk that is water
and unwillingly sees the reflection of a desolate child
shunned from society and deserted by family.
ii. He liked to burn ladybugs with rose-colored glasses.
No one knew why he enjoyed scorching them in
the sun when summer was in bloom but maybe he
wanted to see someone else suffer for a change.
iii. Many people said he was a martyr of words.
Daggers of pride hate prejudice went both ways
because when they tormented him he would only
try to punish them back.
iv. Destroyed innocence could not be evoked in him.
His piercing glare was hard and steely without a
hint of compassion because they had driven it out
of him and all that was left was gone too.
v. He was charcoal ink at the gates of Heaven.
I asked him why he had no friends and
he told me he didn't need anyone anymore
and I knew he was wrong.
:iconStellaNotte:StellaNotte
:iconstellanotte:StellaNotte 3 5
Literature
writer's obsession with love
You made me believe you loved me.
Forever captivated by your voice,
You told me all we needed was
each other.
You said, it don't matter,
it's just us two,
it's just us two,
we won't be torn apart.

And I believed you.
Under your misty gaze,
You told me all we needed was
each other.
You said, it don't matter,
let them steal,
let them steal,
we won't be torn apart.

Why did I believe you?
Held by your caressing arms,
You told me all we needed was
each other.
You said, it don't matter,
ignore their words,
ignore their words,
we won't be torn apart.

How I still want to believe.
Why live life from dream to dream,
you said.
And dread the day when dreaming ends?
you said.
One day I'll fly away, fly fly away.
you said.
And you did.
Fly away, fly fly away
from me.
And end my obsession
with love.
:iconStellaNotte:StellaNotte
:iconstellanotte:StellaNotte 2 16
Literature
tkts: farie
Another day on the bus, glass bottles rolling and rolling as the wheels bump up. Through the dirt stained window, a fight. Through the smelly back door, graffiti. Everywhere, crime and injustice, surrounding the world like cockroaches.
     
Flick on the news, more murder, more rape, more racism. How to escape this bulldozer? How to run away to a land, a peaceful land like the children all say. The city of technology, never-ending crime, and greed. So large and empty and gray.
What happened to the farie who said, Look, who said, Look up to the blue blue sky and eat the clouds. Who said, Forget Manhatten and watch a rose bloom at sunrise. Who said, If you get lost, who said, If you get lost in noise, can you come back? Can you come back to see the birds bath? Can you come back to see the chrysalis open? Can you come back? Can you come back to kiss the stars?
:iconStellaNotte:StellaNotte
:iconstellanotte:StellaNotte 0 1
Literature
tkts: yin and yang
In my chinese culture, we believe in differences to become same and in harmony. Air and land. Light and darkness. Sun, moon. Yin and Yang. They represent masculinity and feminiity, like my parents.
     
My mother, social and young, and my father, quiet and wise. Though different, they are same. Two halves linked into one, one who understands and breathes with the gods. Their spirits not holding hands but holding hearts, their souls not affectionate but loving.
    
Yin and Yang represent life, through hard times, there will be good times. Yin and Yang represent culture, each race different but same. Yin and Yang is music, in perfect beat, rhythm, harmony. Sweet music to my ears. My parents, Yin and Yang.
    
But is it possible? For love and hate? To be in harmony? The world does not seem to be in harmony, the gold scale tipping, tipping. Our world on a platter, which was once brand new but now broken. Could love and hat
:iconStellaNotte:StellaNotte
:iconstellanotte:StellaNotte 0 1
Literature
tkts: rapunzel
My hair is always all over the place. Sticking up, coarse, stray hairs. All over the place like a sad dog's heart.
     
If I could change my hairstyle, I would make it long, long, long, and straight, not unruly. I'd have bangs up to my eyelids to clip up or leave down. I could leave my hair down like Rapunzel. Braided like a schoolgirl. A pony's tail. A bun like Mama's. Curled like a model's.
     
I'd be able to wear my hair any way. To express myself as who I am physically. Make a statement. I could be creative. Mess up my hair and fix it.
     
I can be anyone I want to be. A princess, a schoolgirl, a stallion running free in the wind, a mother, a model. I am anyone I choose to be.
:iconStellaNotte:StellaNotte
:iconstellanotte:StellaNotte 0 0
Literature
tkts: a spirit's hope
My house is right here in Brooklyn with five big rooms, but my home is in my heart.
     
My home is not measured by the furniture's quality or the size. My home is cozy, snug like a baby cub in a den wrapped by his mama. My home is golden, like the smiling sun.
     
Each itty-bitty gritty corner of my home is filled, filled to the top like water in your cup so high you have to drink it before it drops, filled, filled like a soul's whisper and a spirit's hope.
     
My home, my cozy golden home, in my heart, my heart longing for love. My home is everything. My home is family. My home is comfort. My home is happiness.
     
My home is where I live. Where I sleep and eat and laugh and cry. I live in my heart.
:iconStellaNotte:StellaNotte
:iconstellanotte:StellaNotte 1 4
Literature
tkts: dancer's poise
My name is a river. It is gentle, beautiful, graceful. Like a river, I have a pure aqua and rush, rush, rush down like a tumbling waterfall. I have fish, plenty to share, plenty to eat. I am deep and deep and deep, not shallow, but with depth.
     
I am a river. I flow like a river, my feet pointed, poised in a dancer's pose. I flow down, my heart beating, my aqua moving. My soul is screaming with excitement, like the roar of the splashing freshwater. I flow because I am gentle and beautiful and graceful. I flow because when I close my eyes, I can hear the music of the blooming lotuses and singing bees. I flow because when there is hate, no, there is no hate, only love, love, love.
     
I flow because I am one with nature.
:iconStellaNotte:StellaNotte
:iconstellanotte:StellaNotte 0 0
Literature
to kiss the stars: dedication
for every little star
                 
                 who has lit up a dark night
             
             who has granted a wish
          
          who has smiled on the twinkle life below
                             
                                Shine away!
    
:iconStellaNotte:StellaNotte
:iconstellanotte:StellaNotte 0 0

Activity


Journal

No journal entries yet.

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconcorvidae65:
Corvidae65 Featured By Owner Feb 22, 2012
I've featured your work in my journal--->[link]

Have a great week! :iconwoohooplz:
Reply
:iconsmilewithlove:
smilewithlove Featured By Owner Jan 11, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
gosh i miss you and your writing :heart:
Reply
:iconagelessvampire17:
AgelessVampire17 Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2010  Hobbyist Writer
Where did you go?
Reply
:iconraineeluv:
RaineeLuv Featured By Owner Jul 29, 2010
I miss you. :heart:
Reply
:iconhugqueen:
HugQueen Featured By Owner Jan 2, 2010   Writer
:heart: I still miss you.

:huggle:
Reply
:iconsabre-at-echo:
sabre-at-echo Featured By Owner Dec 29, 2009
your poetry is beautiful and i don't know what else to say. <3
Reply
:iconnonnihil:
nonnihil Featured By Owner Dec 23, 2009  Professional Digital Artist
Hey there! :wave: I just wanted to stop by and wish you Happy Holidays! May the season bring you great cheer and brightness within your heart as well as others!

:bulletgreen::bulletred:Merry Christmas and a Happy New year!:bulletred::bulletgreen:
-John
:santa:
Reply
:iconanswersonpostcards:
answersonpostcards Featured By Owner Dec 18, 2009   Writer
Sorry for the incredibly late response but thank you for the favourite!
Reply
:iconagelessvampire17:
AgelessVampire17 Featured By Owner Dec 14, 2009  Hobbyist Writer
Hey girly
Reply
:iconfatedartist:
fatedartist Featured By Owner Dec 8, 2009
[link]

:) Sorry it took soooo long. But at least I colored it, yes? :D

By the way, did you not do NaNoWriMo? XP... I would have liked to see what you came up with...
Reply
Add a Comment: