InvisibleTeacup

Leah Noble

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Green Tweed by InvisibleTeacup, literature

Literature

Green Tweed

Her hair was perfect. It was formed into waves, stiff and unmoving, evenly spaced along her temples and pinned back over her ears like muffs. It was cut short along her neck so it held her head like a bronze helmet, glinting in the light of the vintage lamps that surrounded her. Beneath her hair she was pale and soft, with soft shoulders and soft eyes that hung heavy from her brow. Her lips were flat and colorless, blending into her cheeks and chin, and her short, narrow neck melted into her chest like wax. She wore a light silk dress, which clung to her breasts and swirled about her knees with every shift of pose. She stood l

Stench by InvisibleTeacup, literature

Literature

Stench

Things always smelled different on shift. It was like all the odors of the city were suddenly having a cocktail party in your sinuses and deodorant wasn't invited. Officer Lark waited patiently sniffing the air while Stevens added to the pungent stank of a dumpster. "Nothin' like markin territory, eh? Eh?" Shit. He was in one of his Canadian moods. "Stop playin' with yourself and zip, will ya? You know we're supposed to be chasing that guy." Stevens looked cynically over at the man who was at the moment trying to run up a wall farther down the alley. The one thing you can count on in the city is two things: You'll never need a toilet

Change of Tide by InvisibleTeacup, literature

Literature

Change of Tide

I don't know where the wind went. There are footprint on the sand, each hollow folding over the mother of pearl mist. I stopped feeling my toes long ago. I think they have drifted off with the fishes. Maybe my feet will find them again someday. For now, I will walk, stumbling of course, along the drifting edge. My toeless gait leaves no marks, but beside me, in the soft gray tissue of my mind your footprints keep appearing deep and empty. I knew, once how to find laughter in the salty waves. Now all I know is that the water is washing the mist away. The mist that holds the last evidence of you. If the wind were here

Drift by InvisibleTeacup, literature

feather by InvisibleTeacup, literature

Born from You by InvisibleTeacup, literature

Literature

Born from You

At the end of the parade, after all the stain-faced boys had left on fathers shoulders, you crouched in the ashes of confetti and coaxed me into existence, etching my headstone with your words. Together we ran bare, footing our way through ages. A midnight romp through the thorns Together we bled. You were my anchor, holding me tight to yellowing shore as I stood on rocking decks, looking for the changing tide. Still I stand at prow, the wind whipping against me. It molts my confetti skin until once more I sit, legs spread wide, littering the floor with my tiny pink hearts as you rise, salt heavy, through the waves.

Waterfall by InvisibleTeacup, literature

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Twilight Flight by InvisibleTeacup, literature

Decay by InvisibleTeacup, literature

Literature

Decay

Dirt mars the gold-leafed porcelain of that treasured face lost in autumns shade, tarnished by early frost and thoughts left to rest. The painted smile rusts, hidden among turning leaves, while cold cheeks echo the blushing sun penetrating shallow pools, and tiling the floor in stained light. Haloes of twilight descend between the bare branches, softening the glade in the ageless stare of fading blue eyes.

Goodnight Sun by InvisibleTeacup, literature

Literature

Goodnight Sun

In haze this fading world will rest And fortunes will unfold The light is changing in the west The clouds have seen from daybreak's crest The crying of the old In haze this fading world will rest Through storm the white tailed doves will nest For stories have been told The light is changing in the west The long goodbyes said to the best Forgotten in the cold In haze this fading world will rest The echoed song from bleeding breast Which turns the sky to gold The light is changing in the west By feuding stars this land is blessed In twilight's tightened hold In haze this fading world will rest The light is changing in the west

Bioluminescence by InvisibleTeacup, literature

Literature

Bioluminescence

My feet hit the ground, a soft tattoo matching the cadence of my heart as I walk towards the water. The gray sky slinks over the sand, curling around my ankles, whispering of rotten flesh and seaweed. Down where the water sweeps the shore, feet buried in the grains that melt and suck at my toes, the birds, peppered on the incessant white, mar the smooth frame of drying beach with cross-clawed calligraphy, the lure of fish gone with the sun. Under the internal light of the moon that glints off the windless wakes, tentacles of kelp wrap around my thighs and push against my back as I step into the expanse, cool liquid minglin

Wreckage by InvisibleTeacup, literature

Literature

Wreckage

at the bottom of the broken staircase, whose last fraying planks descend into the tide, wrapped and ripped by the tangles of dead seaweed that hug the filament to the eroding rocks, a picket fence, molted gray, woven with speckled fish and glass bottles, guards the rippled earth where the cliff fell away. Hidden in the rubble beneath the splintered boards, congealed lives dissolve in the dank: a broken-laced shoe houses urchins as bruised ink bleeds through pieced canvas threaded with punk black spines. Crabs descend on cloth, lace trim melting to foam buttons beaded among the barnacles, carried to the currents end. Wind ec

Cloud Watching by InvisibleTeacup, literature

Literature

Cloud Watching

As I lie on the balding grass, with the thick blue sky pressing on my chest and shoulders, I am not surprised to turn and see God lying next to me, staring sleepy eyed at the clouds as dragon flies rest on his plump belly. "What do you see?" he asks me, His voice shaking through the grass, causing it to tickle the backs of my legs and arms as I hear the ants laughing beneath me. I look back at the air, the particles drifting aside to clear my view and I see, with perfect clarity every planet that has ever existed, and as I watch them roll lopsided, I realize that it is their oceans and seas, dotted with whales and fish an

Waiting at the Station by InvisibleTeacup, literature

Literature

Waiting at the Station

The train came late today 13 minutes, by the clock above the abandoned school. Never before had the building passed by my eye, gray sky caress, dissolving onto dank rooftops. Now I face the decay. Twisted vines grope the plaster and slowly pick the walls apart. The broken windows gape in the sour morning light, thirsty to cleanse the dusty halls. Moldy textbook nests hang crooked on the sills. Twain among the twine, the poetry of pigeons. Old men pass, faded white wash cheeks and inward eyes. Limbs bound, veiled with shallow veins. Stooped and bowed misers of life, clutch the timber, seized by the brief convulsi

Walk Poem by InvisibleTeacup, literature

Literature

Walk Poem

At these fingers, exploding from the earth in yearning strength, my feet stop moving. Branches, like roots in the air, protect my wondered face. Are we all dead, waiting to be born into the ground among the limbs of dirt? This world, where the light posts scare the trees with sour light, is this the world we chose? I see the trees bleeding this yellowing poison, and I rejoice in their graceful surrender to purgatory. One must die to be reborn. I inhale their slow demise. The gutter at my feet, paved with leaves, undulates its mocking reflection at the naked limbs above. A warm man heavy with coins and health pas

Bonfire by InvisibleTeacup, literature

Fantasy by InvisibleTeacup, literature

Literature

Fantasy

Cigarettes mingle mint as waterfall harmonies crash down in intoxicating idioms inside my mind The dream is real Feel this scent scat cat I feel the groove Move the music inside Swing your arms pump your rump in rhythm with your lubricated senses I see no need to free these moments of sunset smiles Feminine wiles entice Capture this song Before long you will know my freaky funk the junk in my trunk clicks and clangs in the crazy grind No sense in waiting anticipating this undulating freedom Inhale your existence resistance to this persistence is suicide Ride this tide I need the flow Show our humanity indu

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Cloud Watching by InvisibleTeacup, literature

Literature

Cloud Watching

InvisibleTeacup

About InvisibleTeacup

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Artist // Literature

United States
Deviant for 18 years
She / Her

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My Bio

Current Residence: Davis, CA
Favourite genre of music: Happy music
Favourite photographer: hmmm, tough question..... yo no se
Favourite style of art: all of it?
MP3 player of choice: iPod nano
Wallpaper of choice: various van gogh paintings
Favourite cartoon character: Stewie, from family guy
Personal Quote: Insanity is in the eye of the beholder

Favourite Visual Artist

Van Gogh, Dali, Picasso, ya know, all those really really famous guys...

Favourite Movies

Kiss kiss bang bang/V for Vendetta

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Manu Chao

Favourite Writers

Billy Collins, Theodore Roethke, Terry Pratchett, George R.R. Martin, T.C. Boyle, Marabinac...

Tools of the Trade

anything that inspires me and various scraps of paper

Other Interests

Writing, art, skipping, eating, so on and so forth

Posts

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InvisibleTeacup

Aug 2, 2006

Devious Journal Entry

0 min read

slowly making a new me.

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InvisibleTeacup

Jul 30, 2006

more random blathering

0 min read

i remember when i used to fumble words furious at their feeling about one of the only 2 who will read this hello boy, this is not abot you although it could have been months ago during the only time i did not give in to peer pressure remind me to always listen to small jewish girls thinking for myself doesnt seem to work not that i regret trying back to reality or more accuratly, the present alone on my couch remembering the folds of my bed that felt so much like his arms i could feel my pillow breathing my subconscience is cruel littering the night with the empty bottle of my emotions AAAHHHHH emo ending!! someone

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InvisibleTeacup

Jul 18, 2006

no ones gonna read it anyway

0 min read

it was winter the last time just whispering of spring i didnt know then that i would regret forgetting that moment only now have i felt the time late summer hot and dead and hopefull boiling with lazy oppertunities come leaf turning i'll be on the roots reading the script in the dirt digging for that moment so long ago .....ok, so that was really bad, but whatevs, like i said no one will read it. so basically im talking to myself. greeeaaaat.

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Profile Comments 8

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TerribleToadQueen

Oct 31, 2007

Love the ID! Grim was a great game!

thank you for the

Thank you for the

thank you for the

thank you for the

somebody told me that they heard that Robert was a child molester. I said, Noooo, he used to be the Bag Guy, and now he's this. He lives above El Palomar, and that's that. Yeesh.

Stupid people who judge wrong.

God, I love Santa Cruz.

MarabinaC

Mar 27, 2006

all my stories are on my laptop and i'm at home, wench!

and bring me that ale!