m-n-totoro

Robyn

9 Watchers39 Deviations

3.7K

Pageviews

Latest Deviations

See all

Beck, Hutchinson, you, and me. by m-n-totoro, literature

Literature

Beck, Hutchinson, you, and me.

I'm enshrined and enlivened by the creeping, roving routes embedded below each step on this path so well travelled, so well known, so well loved. Burrowing, injecting my whole self through the eyes of a needlepoint tapestry, crosshatched and Repaired, praised and despaired, fit to burst at its seams and exhale in one great sigh That flock of dusky, throaty starlings, all trying to whistle their escape from the rat-hole race, Into their nests or the grey jungle, staving off desires. And I'll try to strum or scream or scrawl their notes with the same fire and pluck as they despair for their plight, but as I can Swoop past and mock their c

Stratus-sphere. by m-n-totoro, literature

Literature

Stratus-sphere.

My head is in the clouds, And it's raining all the while. It's raining hopes and raining dreams, Crowding down in single file. But as the sky keeps falling, It cries shrill and sparks my tears. More human than it professes, Empathises with my mirage fears. Whistling sunshine away, Breaks for brighter skies. Breathes and lets the wind whip wild, Shows the world things through my eyes. And though the night is tender, With the gale singing sweet, It blusters berating billows, And leaves mock around my feet. Affinity, infinity, another in the sky, Weaves through every sigh released, Knows my mind, clears the smog, Is my esc

Last. by m-n-totoro, literature

Storm by m-n-totoro, literature

Literature

Storm

Before the break of a storm, Shut up, waiting for The wake of a storm, Without tin can clatter, But sparks and knives And lightning forks of suspense, The streams of clouds become Reams of whitewash, Masking beams of day, creating A twilight too soon, with a Cut-out in brief, which favours The flower, the thought and the leaf, But which snatches and blights the Prospect of gleams, as huddling droplets, Conspire in teams, to hold out much longer And dampen the dreams, forming a Blind spot, before they burst at the seams, In the blink of a storm. Then a pitter, a patter, as The opal screen shatters and Pitches a shower

Ten nineteen to Horsham. by m-n-totoro, literature

Literature

Ten nineteen to Horsham.

Jaded and pruned to a core by fatigue, Pitted in a complex network or shades, A competition to make Darwin wince, With a recollection for the fittest, Who now just want to get home, Or who now just want to escape From sitting in a cloud stirring jungle; But who now wair in a mutual bullet, Magic to cure all ills, a platform for shared silence. Resplendent in another barrel,each Pleased with their compartmentalised journey Towards some structure, some order, or Lack of, which makes a home beyond this Too clear greenhouse, where summer's Fragility withers and loses all hope, as It is swarmed upon by a buzz, a Wave, a blot up

Lonely Ladybugs' Picnic. by m-n-totoro, literature

Literature

Lonely Ladybugs' Picnic.

Dot to dots misplaced, skip a generation Ladybird spots bring a new revelation That every year is the same every hurdle Is cyclic, bringing another push towards Unreachable goals, where the distance gained Is only track left to circle again, once The house catches fire, once the childhood's gone, Once the whimsy and giggles, the games and jaunts, Flit past in a season, leaves taunts, age-old haunts, The things which the darkness should swallow up Tight, rope to a moment consumed in the velvet red, But which instead chooses tempests contained in those Voids, to suck in the prides and the loves and the Gains, and leave smudges o

Jumping the Shark by m-n-totoro, literature

Literature

Jumping the Shark

Crests of waves, turning indistinguishably as one peak becomes Another peak, becomes a constant trough, a dip in the figures, A loss of sight, will, origin and end, as one trough, becomes Another trough, becomes a lower level in the episodic cycle, Which was once the height of popularity, the epitome of cool, the goal to Strive for, so that you could be elevated by it, stand atop it, sit on it, But now you're tethered between the last remnants of your patience, an all too tight rope which barely keeps you standing, which hangs loose teasingly, Lightly, balances you on the brink of this moment, slipping through washes Of plot lines

See All

Featured Gallery

See all

The clockwork manequin by m-n-totoro, literature

Literature

The clockwork manequin

seams shred my soul like clockwork every hour...tick tock...tock tock stuck in my own sewn thresholds every day...stop. lock. grasp. lock Feeling like a puppet on a rope now strong rope, shortening strings pulling me back holding me back there where i never wanted to stay so long... ...adieu from this judgement day every day-apocolypse. each and every day come the mind games in the voices play snakes and ladders rolling dice upon my fate-stuck heart switch on the light, bulb shatters in shards of broken memories, tatters of fabric, stitched into a learnt pattern stitched in like a binding vein, clings grabs,stretches for l

untitled by m-n-totoro, literature

Literature

untitled

sun aches through a creaking windowpane stretches subtle, comfort, day warms your thoughts into memories now shines the light into grey. your eyes labour at the opening sight your face radiates by the sky. it listens, persuades, convinces you, that life would hold you no lie. skin crawls and thinks-the nightmare shakes body from mind, from life carries the stranger on shoulders born out of trouble and strife but divine light crashes in, hero traps your drift in glass. smashes the fragile insecure pod leaving you free to pass. and struggle, in chasms of mind, but belief scattered in soul that this warmth holding

the lost soul by m-n-totoro, literature

Literature

the lost soul

anon, the face at the window, staring in hopelessness, dread wishing for the salvation it lacks making my heart one of lead racing through forest deep, wide the slash in the open night air makes me see clearly in hue shows how this world could be fair to take the time to listen alone to see birds which swirl in trees to watch the world passing by to catch the wish on a breeze swallowed up by glory, and then consumed by the hate, and the sin anon is the face at the window, anon is the one who looks in faceless be the enemy's gaze to reflect everything that we've done nothing distracts the absorption or stops the stare an

on being naive... by m-n-totoro, literature

Literature

on being naive...

The final straw, at the end of my tether I was steely cold, knocked by a feather. My legs seemed faltering, crushed, My blanket seemed hollow in warmth Yet another set-up failed to trap innocence. Feeling like a raindrop on a window's glass which children race to see who will win But I'm that raindrop which never seems to trickle to the end Black phantom circles m

Heartbeat by m-n-totoro, literature

Literature

Heartbeat

Im running. But my head is still. Im running. But I've never had this will. I'll get there. If youre standing on guard on not I'll get there. Though you may wish to get of me shot. I keep going. In blind sighted knowledge. I keep running. Beg, steal, borrow some courage. 'Cos I'll see you. Run into your wide spread arms. But if I see you Will I fall foul of your charms? I fall backwards.

Work in progress by m-n-totoro, literature

Literature

Work in progress

Running. Heart beat. Foot beat. Crying. Tears run. Wind swept. Feet pounding. Thumping. Shaking. Throat blocked. Breath hard. Lost. And knowing that they're watching But that they're not seeing. Knowing that if I'm screaming They're not hearing, I'm fleeing. Pummells faster. Colder. Closer. Streamed face. Mind. Soul. Dripping. Washing. Toppling. Hearing bluster. Leaves. Wind. And feeling that it's failing But there's nothing to do Feeling I'm falling down They're just looking on through Waiting. Wishing. Wondering. Stopping. Calming. Breathing. Hillside. Green path. Calm. Skyward. Homeward. Outward. But then seeing the lig

Autumn by m-n-totoro, literature

Literature

Autumn

Autumn Swaddled up against the cold Battling with winds of old Shifting seasons, shifting light Heart beats faster-fight or flight Shattered prism still scatters colour, Sunset growing ever duller, Broken time frame, broken mind, Fumbling fingers, wandering blind But daylight comes as due refrain, and blurs romantic wax and wane. Blue waves break, blue laps shore, Human pleasure, nature's chore. Leaves fall crisp on crackling ground, Be still...quiet echo...lost sound... Birds swoop, birds sing enchated verse Sudden chorus, no rehearse.

Untitled. by m-n-totoro, literature

Literature

Untitled.

Eye. Window to a soul. Prism of humanity. Of you. Breaks life into spectrum, of colours, patterns, moods; then makes them one again. Blurred into pure, blind thought, made clear in their disruption. I. Window to a self. Pillar of identity. Of you. Unified in a letter stood, domineering, defiant, drawn with a chalk of an innocence- an absolute & sketchy resolution that justifies existence in code.

Jumping. by m-n-totoro, literature

Literature

Jumping.

Required. One girl, one boy. Both lost to themselves, neither typical, both good swimmers. One seaside cliff. Inexplicably carpeted with grass, daring to be out of line. One ocean. So dense and blue it looks ebony, starred with forgotten waves. Daisies. In chains, in curls, some void of petals; daring to approach Autumn. Pigments of white. Piled into two mounds of deconstruction, counted, named, unlabelled. A golden tree. Rapidly becoming crisp yet cold, one more indefinite turn of the months. The girl sits, knees huddled to her chin. As small as she can be, as small as she feels. Thinking, hoping, never knowing. Counting the

Pilot. by m-n-totoro, literature

Literature

Pilot.

Pilot. This is how it begins. A friend, not standing on the station. The smoke billowing in great clouds, leaving his silhouette almost vacant in the space where he had meant to be. It’s icy cold, and begins to rain down, soaking my coat, my hat brim, my shoes. The curl of red hair in the window, just above my eyesight, the eyes floating mystically below it, smiling indirectly and openly to the world. She speaks, but to a figure vertically across, and not to my sighing mouth on the platform. She laughs, and it seems like the melody could float on forever in the carriage, distant and elevated. The notes of her narration and her gossip ne

Watchers 9

Leon-Katellakis

Choopy-choo

TBLv2

jules247

hearts-into-fire

PhQnix

Andre47

DudeMeister44

chrispykreme

Watching 7

Choopy-choo

TBLv2

PhQnix

Andre47

DudeMeister44

ThePeeves

chrispykreme

Collection

Favourites

See all

Here's To You, Mrs. T by PhQnix, literature

Literature

Here's To You, Mrs. T

I’ve done responsibility and I am through with it  Community’s a wash out and patriotism’s bullshit  My civic duties never got me laid  And volunteering never got me paid Some man with broad white grin and sitcky-out ears,  Tousled hair, coifed and greying before his years,  Promised me a new, cooler Britain if I just forked over  Two hours of my time to tidy up, help old ladies and generally bend over Backwards for those who I don’t know and I don’t see  ‘cos apparently we’re “com-you-ni-tee”  And that’s somehow similar to “fa-mi-

About m-n-totoro

See all

United Kingdom
Deviant for 16 years
She / Her

Badges

My Bio

Current Residence: London, England
Favourite genre of music: indie
Favourite style of art: pop art
MP3 player of choice: i-pod
Shell of choice: shell...shock? Im dazed at the moment
Wallpaper of choice: my actual wallpaper is brown
Skin of choice: my skin!
Favourite cartoon character: totoro as my screename suggests
Personal Quote: "you said what!?"

Favourite Visual Artist

Roy Liechtenstein

Favourite Movies

Breakfast At Tiffany's.

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Arcade Fire

Favourite Writers

Simon Armitage

Favourite Games

I'll say "left shoe", just to be annoying.

Favourite Gaming Platform

hmm theres too many

Tools of the Trade

a trowel? erm...chopsticks?

Other Interests

anime-mostly studio ghibli, music, language, and talking too much

Posts

See all

m-n-totoro

May 4, 2008

Urgh

0 min read

So sleepy! I can't believe exams are coming around again...the first of which being Tuesday for me. Spanish speaking here I come! :( I'm scared...Is it just me, or does revision just never seem enough?

Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In

m-n-totoro

Sep 9, 2007

GCSE Results! (23/8/07)

0 min read

Maths                        A Science (double)        A* English Lit                  A* (in the top 5 in the country on AQA ! ) English Lang              A* RS                           A* Spanish                    A* French                     A* History                     A* Geography              A* and Alevels being taken-EngLit, History, Biology, Spanish