Miseria-Cantare

music of the night

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On Waitressing by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Literature

On Waitressing

Appreciate what you can. That man drinking the blonde ale— I appreciate the vernacular of his mohawk. The diner will turn into a wild boar tearing into tougher hide, ignorant of the true size of his stomach. Is it the size of a tack or the size of a grenade or the size of a cannon? Separate, or his spoiled tusks will find you. And only spit in most food. Balance is key. Whenever possible, jettison past the heat-stroke into the walk-in cooler and put a palm to your ice-chest to ensure your heart still beats. My brother went to culin

All Is Queer by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Literature

All Is Queer

The shapeshifter of my love-mind surrenders to contrition, white noise frequency of baby making echoes potential not pursued as I search for a path through which my faith can goad permission. The marriage contract will hiss and trickle through the judge's inquisition, as he strokes his whiskered face and waits to conclude if my love-mind will shapeshift back into contrition. So I'm supposed to scream "Let me people go!" with the new New York mission? My noxious vanity and homo piety pleasure themselves then feud as I search for a path through which my faith can goad permission. And as I straddle the crevasse of rampant indecision th

Old Fashioned by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Literature

Old Fashioned

Under sugar waves, resisting jeers and off-putting stares from men in corners, I hid under simple syrup and cannot recall now each drink. This morning I wrestle the reins of greater pain than nausea pangs, resurrecting my bile and my love. You still look like you're sweet. You still look like you smell sweet, maraschino cherry juice— jellied, candied. And I am dark fruit, dark fruit like the archaic building block of sinister persuasion. Last night over the loud bass, I confessed: I want to listen to only piano songs, solely sorrowful sonatas that breathe air onto pain. I want to live in a house made mostly of glass,

Why I Didn't Give Daniel Head by Miseria-Cantare, literature

We Are Veterans by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Literature

We Are Veterans

The papyrus sheets on the army cot, moving under the armless man I once called home, sand away my sophistries (platitudes) delivered about rebirth and the films I watched while you were away, frolicking through fields blossomed of viscera and entrails. I called them dandelions. You called them weeds and blew at them with the artillery of your tongue until they were in pieces. I know some must stay in you, caught in your throat when you cry. Ask me what I know about the war. I know their faces were like the china dolls in the window across the way from our apartment, pink lips painted on porcelain skin that stand out to you every day

Lady-Parts, Lady, Leisure by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Literature

Lady-Parts, Lady, Leisure

1. My Lady-Parts Deliver me to space. In the black hole confines I will compress you to nothing and swallow what air is not there and crave dissipation as if it were a human right, to explode into something so infinitesimal it is almost nothingness infinite. Between my legs is a finite being. Some famous artists have portrayed it as an erotic flower. I walk past the counter of deli meat and debate this. It sits there between my legs with the little nub of an eye, Cyclops sex staring at me, daring me to look away, as I lay naked, curled in a ball. It will not blink or wink, it is paralyzed, the one eye. "What?" I finally ask.

Fidelity by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Literature

Fidelity

Bound and flattened to the precipice, I walk her peak like a grifter without partner; or a troubadour. All that awaits me below is death. This is the top of things, and this, the gripping of my heel, and then the splay of my five toes, two feet, is my utmost for her highest. I stay planted. Gloriously. There may be an ocean below, or volcanic ash, or the blanch of Midwestern flatness, flatlands— but I don't look. I have no reason to look. If I lay close enough, the biting cold of the wind never reaches my ribs.

Less Girl by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Literature

Less Girl

No knowledge of tying a necktie. guess I'm a girl again tonight half moon, your new septum ring a doll-face massacre hey, that looks good on you… come in nothing; undress from nothing when you leave make me somehow more naked by knowing you know nothing else. - - I found you not uglier than me at all that's when I knew like knows like, liking pretty girls like before you, this night was hostageless I unclothe the room from summer try to find some sharpness like autumn-colored legs tied around the neck like a necktie less of a girl again tonight. - - Your bony knees something subtle, the graze of a single h

Eulogy by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Literature

Eulogy

The dream-catchers are handmade but each bear the same mark of boredom. On the reservation, the dirt is red and separated from the turquoise on sale. The tops of the mountains have been scraped off like whipped cream from pudding cups of beautiful alien rock. "Plateau," my mother says. I am not sure if it is a name or a command. The lightning storms are brighter in the desert. I sit perched on the horizon, the edge of one loss to another— given up my love, all my bottled water. The mountains carry their own babies in the muddy puddles, against the wind they huddle, but their semi-circle somehow is just one great smile.

Love Poem by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Literature

Love Poem

Segregated was the silent heart, separated into two parts, timid and yearning, back in February, like I sanctioned others' bodies for baby making. Yet birthed in your smile firmly set in the lines of your lips, the birthing hips of challenge and harmony blended into existence, the way your face swam into view at the bar. Smile liquid and ever-changing behind the warped glass of the beer glass, your beauty beat against me like waves of Maker's Mark and I drank around you. But felt safe. I would begin to learn that your taste was sharp. But you and I, we like adventure in our mouths. Your taste was a bang big enough for me to

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On Waitressing by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Literature

On Waitressing

All Is Queer by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Literature

All Is Queer

Old Fashioned by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Literature

Old Fashioned

Why I Didn't Give Daniel Head by Miseria-Cantare, literature

We Are Veterans by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Literature

We Are Veterans

Lady-Parts, Lady, Leisure by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Literature

Lady-Parts, Lady, Leisure

Fidelity by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Literature

Fidelity

Less Girl by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Literature

Less Girl

Eulogy by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Literature

Eulogy

Love Poem by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Literature

Love Poem

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the moments after by lotuskid, literature

Literature

the moments after

tonight i made a frozen pizza in the microwave and it cooked in a weird way the center took too long to reach the right temperature so by the end of the prescribed cooking time the cheese on the outside had run down to the microwave tray and begun bubbling almost burning and i thought well shit there goes some of the pizza i worked so hard to prepare but then i thought i should wipe it up quick with a paper towel so it doesn't stick and ruin the microwave in the process leaving me with two losses i ended up wiping it up so quickly that the cheese was still warm and delicious and it made me think of the days that meet us with

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Eulogy by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Literature

Eulogy

Miseria-Cantare

Deviation Spotlight

Fucking Beautiful by Miseria-Cantare, literature

Fucking Beautiful

Miseria-Cantare

Deviation Spotlight

Pounce by Miseria-Cantare, visual art

Pounce

Miseria-Cantare

About Miseria-Cantare

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Sep 27
United States
Deviant for 20 years
She / Her

Badges

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

My Bio

Current Residence: Atlanta/New Orleans
Favourite genre of music: rock
Favourite photographer: Jan Saudek
Wallpaper of choice: Kristen Stewart, because I am hopelessly in love with her
Favourite cartoon character: Holden from Arcana
Personal Quote: We take what life gives us and we run with it, unless you're me--I dance with it.

Favourite Movies

Interview with the Vampire, Spirited Away

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

AFI

Favourite Writers

Charles Bukowski, John Donne, Sylvia Plath, and me ;p

Tools of the Trade

wit. oh yes, and the fact that i'm pretty.

Other Interests

Poetry, Photography, Dance, Vampires, AFI

Posts

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Miseria-Cantare

Nov 7, 2011

Return to dA!!!

0 min read

Hello loves, I've been a bit absent I know. I've been working a lot with ensemble theatre, as well as trying to create some of my own performance art. However, for the time being, all of my ponderings on paper at least start in the form of poetry. I am going to start posting again, and I hope very much some of you are still around to read it. I'll post poetry, as well as performances in progress.  With my poetry comes a whole new style I am exploring, as well as some touches of familiarity. I hope to be posting with great frequency. I've posted a poem just now from the end of the summer called "On Waitressing" that I would love your though

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Miseria-Cantare

Jan 5, 2011

The Real Deal: Matthea Harvey + 30k pageviews!

0 min read

Hello all. Just writing a little update in my life in the writing community outside of dA. Two weeks ago I had the great pleasure of reading at a beautiful hotel in New Orleans called The Columns after the incredibly original and talented Matthea Harvey. I read for a great organization called 1718, which is run by students of Tulane and Loyola universities. If you don't know Matthea Harvey, I stole the blurb about her from 1718's facebook: Matthea Harvey is the author of Sad Little Breathing Machine (Graywolf, 2004) and Pity the Bathtub Its Forced Embrace of the Human Form (Alice James Books, 2000). Her third book of poems, Modern Life (Gra

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Miseria-Cantare

Nov 10, 2010

DD and DLD!

0 min read

Hello all, all being those people that still come visit my page from time to time. I know I don't post as frequently as I used to, to ensure the quality of my work, so I appreciate those of you who have stuck around, and any newcomers as well! Some very exciting things have been happening for me in the dA community. On October 21st, after being part of this community for 6 years, I finally got my first daily deviation, something I have greatly wanted for some time now. It was for one of my favorite works, "Mail." If you haven't read it, do me a kindness and please check it out: http://fav.me/d2jchou . Also, on Nove