54 Recent Deviations
Featured: A Little More
Affinity - PoemSitting seated in the silence
Downcast - yet my heart rose
When a quiet figure stood beside me
After in the room he strode
His appearance was unusual
Not in a way one could describe
Perhaps it was in the way he moved
Or that distant look held in his eyes
Suddenly he caught me staring
And he smiled pleasantly
I turned away, moments too late
To hide the color in my cheeks
His voice was warm - sweet to the ear
And he asked me for my name
But for all the stumblings of my tongue
I had such trouble telling him
His gentle smile gave way to grin
And with a tender sort of air
He gestured to the seat across
And asked me if he could sit there
The permission shyly granted him
He filled the empty space
All at once - in that chair
Then slowly, softly into my heart
Until he was the only one in there
I'm always enchanted at the remembrance
Of this precious memory - held so dear
It never fades, yet it is romanticized
A little more with each passing year...
Yet that is not to say that I recall things mo
Never Fades - PoemStruck still
Dark - cast out by light
A fire burns
And shadows fall
When will you return?
Oh, where have you gone?
Ablaze in the midst of midnight air
Yet the wind blows cold
When you aren't here
I set the flame upon the wick
And as I look out
My lamp is lit
Like a habit I hopelessly pretend
This is the day you'll be back again
The warmth I spark dies with each passing day...
But your memory... No... That never fades
Once - PoemOnce I made a wish
That I could hold you for all time...
Once I made a wish
That I'd be yours and you'd be mine...
But like a flame that burns away
'Til it has nothing more to give
Put out by the dampness in the air
Before it had even kindled its last twig...
The hope that I once had
That I'd be yours and you'd be mine...
Met with the coldness of cruel fate...
And is now a memory... Lost to time
Say it First - PoemActions adversarial
By unconscious patterns 'justified'
More goes on beneath the surface
Than can be perceived by the eye
Like children adults bicker
'They started it!'
'Well, they did worse!'
Always looking to magnify... the other person's faults
But why point to another's errors, when you have also made you own?
The size or number of them, matters not - you were still wrong
Do you really think that pointing fingers will cause them to pause and reflect?
Tell me, has it ever actually worked when someone else - to you - did that?
By choosing to make them the enemy
You just push them farther away...
For so many years you've loved them
Yet you've forgotten it in your rage...
Trade your shouting in for silence
Your accusations for... 'I'm sorry'
Be honest, and consider first your own part in this story...
Just swallow up your pride...
Swallow up... your pain...
Cruel words aren't justified
Just 'cause they're saying the same things
Even GroundOn separate uneven ground
You stay aloft so sure
Your judgement is sound
Did your heart stir?
In your shade I stay
Outshone by your right
To your own way
Much to your delight
Oh honey don't you see
There is more to this
There is more to me
How could you miss?
How unbalanced the scales
Were tipped to your favor
To continue means to fail
On this I cannot waver
Is it not much better
To see me as the same
And tastes that much sweeter
To stand on even plane
Together as equals my dear
Is the true way to grow
I will always be near
As entwined vines we grow
And bloom into something
Beautiful, bright, and new
With all our love to bring
With hearts so true
Love and EqualityLove and equality go hand in hand,
(Like the ocean's waters and the soft beach sand.)
To understand either you have to understand the other,
(You must understand them as if they're a brother.)
And while love is confusing and equality is rare,
(There is always a little bit somewhere.)
Just keep on searching, keep on believing,
(For your hidden hatred is slowly leaving.)
A word too far.I am one yet I am many. A concept hard to grasp? Not if you know who I am.
Let me introduce myself. I am ‘A’ and it isn’t short for Arthur, Arnold, Alice or Amy or any of the other cumbersome names that humans carry. How I pity them. My name is one letter and I am that letter. Admittedly, I am used in millions of words and then I become part of those words, yet I still retain my separate identity.
The world I live in has 25 other letters, all with the same attributes. We are proud of who we are and for the most part, content, and yet I have this urge to explore, to go beyond even the seemingly boundless limits of the words I inhabit.
It is true that sometimes I venture into the world of numbers and used in something called algebra, also equations and formulas but I have had a certain amount of altercations with these ‘beings’. They are supercilious beyond imagination and flaunt their power most disturbingly. It is laughable really
Eye of the Wolf Chapter 4Chapter 4
"Sunset By the Lake"
By the time that I had finished showing Will around my cottage, we headed down to the lake where all of my pets were buried and where I would come down and at least think of my future life. This was the place where I had my most deepest thoughts, the place where I found sanctuary where my cottage or my father's mansion would not. The lake was very beautiful especially at sunset.
"This is where I used to come to bury my pets," I explained to Will as we sat on the beach. "And this is where I realized...that one day I would die. I would not only join them, but my mother and my little brother. This is my sanctuary, Will, the place where I would go for my solice and where I can think of my own thoughts and dreams. Standing right here, on this spot, I realized... that one day I would be over the rainbow."
At that moment, Will looked down at the ground before looking back up towards me with a look of worry in his eyes, almost as if he needed to tell me something
Eye of the Wolf Chapter 3Chapter 3
"A Tense Luncheon"
While I had my peanut butter and jelly sandwich lunch with Will, the rest of my family were in the mansion where my father was wondering why I decided not to join them for their lunch. It turns out that my father and I were never really on good terms since my mother died when I was 12. Although he seemed to try, I have never really given him a chance, probably because I thought he valued his business and my other siblings over me.
"I don't understand it," he said to Henry and Caroline as they had lunch. "I just cannot seem to get through to your sister. All I want is for her to spend time with all of us."
"Perhaps maybe Laura doesn't want to forgive you just yet," replied Caroline, cutting into her meat. "All that she did was for attention, but it wasn't kind of the attention that you thought she would give you."
The rest of my family fell silent at the thought. But, Caroline was right. All I ever wanted was attention. I am the oldest in my family after all
Eye of the Wolf Chapter 2Chapter 2
"Getting to Know Each Other"
My meeting with Will Randall was eager at first, but then as I laid asleep in my bed that night, I could not but wonder about something. When Will was present, Fleeting Ways would go crazy meaning that Will had an animal instinct about him. There was much more to him than met the eye and I knew that had he not been married, perhaps he could have been the right one for me. But, then again, dating a married man who is also one of my father's employees would not be right. If we were going to be together, it would be just as friends and nothing more.
The next morning, I got up and headed over to the barn so I could get Fleeting Ways out for a walk around the corral. Fleeting Ways was like my only friend aside from all the other people that I knew. As I got him ready, I'd figure to have a small conversation with him in regards to what had happened the night before.
"You know something, Fleeting," I said as I got him ready. "There is something strange a
Dimly LitI've never noticed how nice her Monroe curls were until I looked around the room, it made the
lamps bright, and the walls elegant; beneath the moons gaze, through the torn faded velvet drapes,
giving us enough concealment. Her rapid movements could match the palpitations of her heart, though,
the expression shown once she turned around didn't reflect as well.
She walked backwards until she felt the bed, while pressing down the side of her stomach she softly
laid atop of the bed and wrapped herself beneath the sheets, her skin blending into the bleached
cotton. Her body on its side and her legs crescent, she removes her hand and looks. I guess she
couldn't tell if the red spots on her polka dot shirt were by design, or hers. I saw her eyes start
to dry out while she saw the blood rolling down each finger.
I stumbled my way to the side of the bed, just as she would've. I try to sympathize and so I lean
close to her face and gently turn it, so I could look into her faded stare. Only th
Overlook(ed)A lot of people seemed to think that when you hacked a security camera, it sparked, or shuddered, or suddenly lost motor control and just stared at the ground. Reality was a lot more mundane: the cameras behaved exactly like they always did, just without transmitting anything. The information flow was intercepted and overlaid with a loop of stock video made to look like the camera’s normal feed; ideally, at the other end of the line, whoever or whatever was watching would never notice the tampering. In and out, let no one know – that was Tayl’s modus operandi, even when he wasn’t on the job. The cameras continued their silent watch, and he crept past unseen.
“I’m not sure why I keep coming back here… what I’m trying to prove, or what questions I’m trying to answer. I guess it’s just easier to think up here, even if the smog makes it hard to breathe. It’s like a map, kinda, like something you’d see on the web, just
Mind of a serial killer
No matter where I'm going to,who I meet,that doesn't change anything. Nothing can't compete with my mentality. I know that some people would consider it sick,but that's just who I am. Perhaps I lost my mind long time ago.
I just can't replace the rush of blood leaking from the victim's body with no other feeling. Seeing the lifeless look on their pale faces after I vandalized and mutilated their body is almost orgasmic to me. My mind is constantly drifting,always planing ahead.
Where do I go? Who will be next? Why does it even matter?
All people are basically the same,I'm making the world a better place.
This way I don't let anyone screw me over,not even let them think of it.
Dying is a natural process,and you are lucky if you find me before you die. Instead of dying the boring,natural death I make it interesting.
The horrified screams give me so much pleasure,and it's melody echoes in my mind as I chop them up,piece by piece. This is wh
The Three Gardens - Short StoryOnce there was a lovely green meadow, and it lay beneath a beautiful summer sky. Wildflowers grew in abundance, and speckled the countryside with many wonderful colors. Here, not too far apart from one another, were three cottages - each with their own lovely fenced in garden, all of which were upkept by the corresponding cottage resident.
The people who lived in these cottages were three retired elderly gentleman; Albert, Bill, and Wilbur. The men loved it in the meadow very much, and took great pleasure in tending to their own unique gardens. One day however, a fourth, somewhat unhappy man, came to rent a cabin in a nearby forest on vacation, and every day he would pass through the meadow and by the other gentlemen's cottages on his afternoon walk - just around the time that they were tending to their gardens.
Now, if there was one thing the unhappy man despised, it was to see anything being done wrong, and it was on his very first walk that he was passing outside of Albert's fence a
For You - PoemI tirelessly seek the unreachable
Exhausted - I begin to fade away
Yet giving in would be unspeakable
So I persist in doing as they say
The world has such a strange idea of success
Just what it is and everything it means
They push and shove to prove who is the best
They aren't contented with the simple things
Just when did sensitivity become weakness?
When did a scruple mean: unflexible?
Stay strong, push on! You really need this!
But at this cost; I'm suddenly not so sure...
Feeling your hand in my hand
Hearing a sweet trill in the air
A softness aglow
Warmth within - I am home
And letting go is how I get there
Though some may claw and kick
And choose to beat each other down
At least we know what living really is
And see the beauty all around
With the crackling of leaves
We race on through to the sky
The sun descends unto deep
And I get lost in the stars in your eyes
In passing moments I'll abide by the chaos
And I'll do what's right to do...
But I just hope you really k
Your TouchAs I feel your touch,
Your sweet breath under mine,
The love evolves with us,
We share what time will allow,
For moments that we share
will be in our minds forever,
And as I look at you,
I feel that these moments are precious,
So hold me & love me,
For love is not to be wasted,
And love for us is to be meant
How Precious You Are - PoemIn time we may start to accept things in passive
And begin to take everyday miracles for granted
The emotion, the thrill, the surprise...
Until at last their full fading causes passion to die
Yet with the knowledge that I possess human frailty
It is my fondest wish to prevent this reality
I pray I never lose sight of your beauty for flaws
And that I endeavor, to ever, love you just as you are
I aspire to see you every day with new eyes
That I may yet again feel my heart leap with joyful surprise;
That someone as wondrous as you, and so lovely
With every choice you could choose, you decided to love me
I want that thought to be ever forefront in my heart...
So that I may never forget... just how precious you are
Without Losing Everything - Song LyricsI didn't mean to love you
When we had always been at odds
I had always thought that when I found the one
They would be a person like I was
But now I find my heart has changed
Along with all that I find I most value
And everything seems so new and strange
But it's in a way that all too wonderful
I didn't mean any of this
Oh no it wasn't in the plan
But now everything for which I wished
Compared to you, they mean nothing
And all those so-called glorious goals
I find I don't want them anymore
Am I crazy? Am I fool?
For now it seems, all I need is you
Although at first I sought something to catch
I find that now I am the one whose trapped
In something I can't end
That which was most important
I thought I knew it all before
And each moment I was scheming
Trying to take just a bit more
For when I saw you, at first, I had thought
Only of that which I could gain
But for all the things my lies have brought me
Happiness wasn't one of theeeeeem
I don't des
He (Part Four)They are ready to go out into the world,
And so He lets them leave the bookshelf.
She is dead, and Her loving father as well.
No more creation from either.
But He will never abandon the pen and page.
He is medicated for depression
And in therapy for post traumatic stress disorder,
But he will live. Determination pulses through his body,
Keeping him motivated, inspired and creative.
He writes, not novels but poems,
Poems to share with the world, giving hope to the hopeless.
He is like you or I, simply a writer, a reader,
Battling the days, to remain happy.
Happiness that is hard to achieve, but he doesn't care. He'll be happy.
Next time He picks up that pen and sits in front of that page
He'll be writing for Her and Her Father.
The lost ones, somewhere above him,
Or perhaps below him, as they might deserve.
His pain is motivation, waiting at the mahogany desk.
Beware the perfect he tells everyone he meets. He is honest and kind,
Doing no harm to those who deserve no harm.
He is losing h
He (Part Three)She's gone, missing in the world of her imagination.
Creativity is flowing through her, exiting at the tip of the pen,
Leaking out onto the once blank pages.
She writes constantly, addicted to the scratching the point makes
Whenever dragged across the paper, bleeding ink upon it.
She doesn't go outside anymore-
Her boyfriend shops for food so she doesn't starve,
But not like it does much anyway.
Her writing consumes her life now,
She hardly sleeps or eats, and cooks never.
She has inherited the mahogany desk He once wrote at,
And sits there for hours doing absolutely nothing.
His death has left her depressed,
And she desires to do nothing but write,
Or simply think.
Her boyfriend buys her chocolates and flowers,
But she doesn't notice. She gets consumed in her writing,
And despite ignoring him, her boyfriend stays with her.
He stays because he loves her, and needs her by his side.
In society's eye, they're freaks.
She grows pale as she loses sleep and sunlight-
Now the only light she s
He (Part Two)Three days after He passed through the gates of heaven
The police arrived to investigate his disappearance
From the social world.
They find the man, head on the desk,
Carved carefully from mahogany,
With papers scattered about the darkened wood.
The power went out the day before,
For He never let the light leave.
A note, scribbled on the back of a book
Told whoever found him to give the pages
So She could take care of Them,
And finish Their story.
He knew he was having a heart attack
And managed to write down the four words
"Give it to Her"
Just as the pain emerged from his chest.
Now She has taken on the life He lived,
Writing day and night,
For hours at a time,
Just to entertain the crumbling society outside
Of the pages She wrote on.
He watches over Her,
Proud, for She has finished His adventure,
And given Them the ending They deserved.
But she has not truly ended Their story,
Because she left out the period
HeA figure in the dark,
Dragging the pen across the page,
Putting the mind on paper,
Nothing to light his path,
Other than a lamp,
Dimly illuminating the
With a bottle of ink,
Sitting in the corner.
Pieces of crumpled paper
Lie all over the carpeted floor,
Making each step crunch,
As if walking on snow.
For hours every night,
The man, simply referred to as He,
Does nothing but write,
Seemingly wasting his life
While giving it to others.
He refuses to put down the pen,
To abandon the pages,
Until They are ready,
Ready to enter the world,
As They soon will be,
For He prepares Them for what will come,
Hatred and love,
Torture and bliss,
Because not everyone appreciates life
For what it is.
He, although, is willing to let himself
Go insane in the dim light of the lamp
While he leads Them on an adventure,
An adventure he dreamt about as a child,
An adventure he dreams about to this day.
But everything comes to an end.
He was never able to finish writing the pages,
Ode to LifeI have come to learn that I have to ignore some things.
The constant pain in my chest,
The occasional blood in the phlegm that tries to
The tumor slowly growing on my left wrist.
I'm not able to do anything about those.
So, rather than let my migraines stop my day,
Before I can deny food simply because it has
I do something.
I put on my helmet,
And let the wind rush past me as I go down the rocky street on which I live,
And I enjoy what I have.
If you order the wrong thing at Starbucks,
You don't just throw it away, do you?
Sure, it's not what you wanted,
But you still enjoy it.
I didn't ask for a life of abuse
And multiplying medical complications,
But I also didn't ask for my little brother,
Or my best friends.
Sure, I could die at any moment,
But my boyfriend could also call me at any moment.
The moral is,
I'm going to enjoy my life
Despite the bad.
I suggest you do, too.
Sock Thieves 2“Come on, Maria, we’re going to be late!” Chad laughed, taking his fiancé by the hand and twirling her around the room. The late afternoon sunlight caught her hair like a golden halo, and when she smiled, it was like the world was turning beneath them, and they were dancing in the center.
“Alright, alright!” Maria sang back with that voice he’d fallen in love with. “We’ve got 20 minutes before our reservation – we’ll be fine!”
The couple swept out the door, fingers laced together and hearts as one, and all was silent.
“Gooooood, just hang me, eh?” came a scratchy voice from the pantry. “Oi, you seen the two of ‘em, all looovey dooovey, I swear on me life...”
The wooden door’s knob turned from within; it creaked on its hinges as a curious quartet pushed it open. One large eye glanced about from each cyclome’s head; one large foot went pat, pat, pat as the
PMD: Volcanic Rush (Ch. 4)Disclaimer- I don't own Pokémon. Enjoy.
Treecko woke up in an unfamiliar room. Team Volcanic Rush entered the room to check on this strange Treeko. "Are you ok?" Mudkip asked. "UH? Umm... I think so." Treecko said. He then realized that he was talking to Pokémon and could understand them. The strange Treecko looked at itself. "I'm- I'm a Treecko!?" the Treecko said in shock. "Don't tell me that you were once human too." Charmander said dully. "H-how do you know that?" Treecko asked amazed at the Charmander. "I can answer some of your questions later. I'm Charmander, and these are my team mates: Mudkip, Electrike, and Bagon. We are an exploration team named Team Volcanic Rush." Charmander informed Treecko. "Do you have a name?" Electrike asked eagerly. "Troy." Troy the Treecko answered. "Nice to meet you Troy." Bagon said before adding, "We need to go outside. The others are waiting for us." Troy followed the team to the meeting room. There was a Sunflora, Lou
The Road to Redemption - PoemCruelly turned away
Almost affronted by your plea
Something between a vacant stare
And a glare of animosity
The road to redemption is fraught with doubt
Both from within, and yet still without
But they can't be blamed for their distrust
Considering the person that you were once
You willingly accept their vicious words
Believing that they are well-deserved
Ironic - that only now when you desire warmth
Does the coldness of their rejection truly hurt
Words die in your heart
That could not make it to your lips
Tears sting in your eyes
But do not have the time to drip
Their gazes averted
You are cast out; without even being moved...
Desperate to set things aright
Yet faced with not knowing how to...
How do you fix what can't be fixed?
How do you prove what can't be proved?
All that you have left is self
And the selfish things you chose to do
If only they could know your mind
If only they could see your soul!
If only you could turn back time
And repair everything that you once broke...
This Thing You Call ''Love''He wondered what she thought he was doing. It was a bit of a foolish question – she probably wasn’t thinking about him at all. Frankly, it was unlikely that Manilla Lovedirge IV spared any thought for anything but her own affairs, those petty, decadent disputes amongst the Glowing City’s skyscrapers and spotlights that defined the futures of millions less fortunate than her.
A wry smile twisted its way onto Tayl’s face at the thought of how trivial their lives must truly be. He’d lived on the darkened, grimy streets for most of his days, and spent more than a night or two creeping through the crystalline halls of the hyper-elite’s 22nd century palaces. Perhaps he didn’t know what it was like to live a real life – perhaps he’d never had a real friend, or slept in the same place more than two nights in a row. That being said, it didn’t take a genius to realize which life was more fulfilling, and he certainly didn’t think i
You look familiar. You are caught in a triangle of doubt.
Everywhere you look there is a faint blue umbrance that swells and falls.
As though you were flailing in the disorientation of funhouse mirrors.
You feel your pulse through your skin and your pores fill with excitement.
Reflective windows are just what you're staring at.
Staring back into you.
Staring straight into you.
You look familiar.
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