Child of WarChild of War10 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
This is not a tale of tragedy or a lamentation, nor is it a glorification of war or peace, or an accusation of criminal nations who encouraged this war. It is simply a diary -- my life as a child of war, both frightening and exciting, where life was suspended but life went on anyway. A life neither happier nor sadder than that of any other child on the planet, but more unusual perhaps, and sometimes astonishing in how normal it all was to me. Which is why I like to share this piece of writing: I feel it is a unique perspective on this kind of event, as I have strived to keep it void of post-rationalisation and political context to keep it, as purely as possible, an insight into how this was experienced by a kid's mind, and for that I put myself back into my mindset of the time to write it. This shows in the "voice".
I was born in Beirut on September 11th, 1979, in the basement/shelter of the clinic where my mother had gone to give birth. We immediately left for Mu
i want toi want you love mei want to12 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
i want to love you to
i want us to be together in everything we do
i want to fall asleep next to you
i want to wake to your sweet face
i want you to share with me your beauty and your grace
i want to be there when you smile and hold you when you cry
i want to give you all the anwsers when you ask me why
i want to be able to promise you that i will forever stay
But how can i promise you this when each minute i continue to push you further away?
A DayIt would take a dayA Day9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it would take a day
to love me
to hate me
to forget me
it would have taken a day
for you to have seen the pain
you had caused me
behind the bright smiles
that was within
the walls of me
it would have taken a day
Over my life
we had many days
but none real
because you never really saw
saw my life
you only saw you
what you needed
and what you wanted
and even when I told you
that he touched me
you still went
and married him
It would have taken a day
to know why
my razor was always bloody
to know why
I always cried
to know why
I wanted to die
to know why
I took the pills
It would have just taken one day
out of your life
then you would have known
what was happening
what was real
what was fantasy
and what was reality
from the lies
but you couldn't
as I lie in my grave
you still haven't
taken that day
to understand me
maybe because y
For a DanceSoft music filling the roomFor a Dance8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
People dancing all around
I feel your eyes on me
Your hand touches mine
Taking it we stand together
you lead me to the dance floor
Placing a hand upon my waist
Another in one of my hands
My opposite hand on your shoulder
Slowly our feet move to the sound
Soon we are moving around
Moving with the crowd
Soft sweet music playing all around
I look up and meet your gaze
Everything just disappears
Time just fading to nothing
You lean down a little and I move closer
We kiss and I get warm chills
I smile to you, you smile back
You spin me and pull me closer
I blush a deep red, you chuckle
The music fades to a faster beet
I still hold on to you
We move to the beet
Just like our hearts for one another
We are seduced by the feeling of love
I Dance in the RainI dance in the rainI Dance in the Rain8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Whether it's a drizzle or a downpour
It doesn't matter to me
The feeling of the raindrops
Trickling down my face
And across my body
It sends me shivers of pleasure
The pitter-patter of it falling
The rhythm of it against the pavement
Dropping, ever so steadily
It's like the beating of my heart
Its chilling sensation of coldness
Its capricious movement of droplets
It's all so pleasing
And all so wonderful to me
Then in a moment, the rain stops
An echoing silence follows
And I disappear, like snow before a sun's rays
But I will return because...
I dance in the rain
Whether it's a drizzle or a downpour
It doesn't matter to me
__. I'm sorry__. I'm sorry10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
By Tony Tran
I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when it was your 5th Birthday. I wasn't able to see the happiness striking across your face, the anticipation running through your veins at the point of opening your presents. The blissful joy of all your friends and family around you as they sang happy birthday, that day was a memory I never had the chance to remember.
I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you had your first day at school. It was like a new world for you filled with friendship, independence and above all, fun. I'll always regret not being there to pick you up after school and having you run into my arms at a thousand miles per hour, as though you hadn't seen me in years. Those days when you came home and started humming a harmonious song that you learnt, it was a tune I'd never hear.
I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you were eight years old and just learnt to ride your first bike. The breeze going through your hair as yo
Dear Writer's BlockDear Writer's Block7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
To the word stuck on the tip of my tongue,
To the aggravating frustration that rattles me to the core,
To the harsh smell of burning eraser,
To the crumpled papers that lay unneeded on the floor,
To the searing, red marks scrawled across my rough drafts,
To the luck thats as unreliable as men,
To the lingering aftertaste of strong, bitter coffee,
To the brilliant thoughts that elude me before the ink leaves my pen,
To the intimidation of an untainted, blank piece of paper,
To the exasperated sighs, hair-pulling and screams,
To the fastidious red pen that is never satisfied,
To the constant pondering that creates nightmares out of my dreams,
To the cruel game of tag between myself and the thesaurus,
To the epiphanies that have gone stale,
I must say that I despise you utterly and completely.
Writers block, you will not prevail!
Fulfillment through DepravityFulfillment through Depravity11 years ago in Horror More Like This
They call me crazy. I beg to differ. I'm sentenced to die only for their lack of understanding. So, here I sit day after day in this cold, lonely, dark jail-cell. Fed once daily, I'm slowly thinning away, still filled with the lust of my chosen delicacy and the hatred that was bred upon me. I don't know how long I've been here or how long I'll stay. No windows to the outside world are present to accompany me, only one diminutive hole near the top of the door shining in a small beam of light through from the prison corridor. I've grown somewhat accustomed to this new lifestyle of mine however bleak it may be in comparison to the stirring existence of my past.
I was born on August 13, 1974, putting me now at slightly over fifty years old. My mother unfortunately died during labor, leaving my single father to raise me alone. My unstable father was traumatized b
FateFate11 years ago in Scripts & Screenplays More Like This
A sunny day in the park. There is a single bench CENTRE stage. GOD is sitting on the LEFT side of the bench. He has long, white hair and a long, white beard, and is wearing a simple white robe. He is reading a newspaper. Enter PETER from the RIGHT. He is wearing black pants, leather shoes, a white shirt and a garish, comical tie. He is carrying a paper bag. PETER sits on the bench next to GOD, setting his bag next to him. He folds his hands and admires the weather.
PETER. Beautiful weather today.
GOD [focusing on his newspaper]. Mm-hm.
PETER. [Extending his hand] The name's Peter.
GOD [shaking PETER's hand]. God.
[GOD returns his attention to his newspaper.]
PETER. Um… God?
PETER. Not to be rude, but… your name is God?
GOD. I am God. Or at least I was God.
PETER. I… see.
GOD. You don't believe me.
PETER. Would you?
GOD. No. But it doesn't matter whether or not you believe in me.
My ability to DanceIf I ever lost my ability to dance, I would want to die.My ability to Dance8 years ago in Surrealism More Like This
Stick myself together again -
Re-enforce with glue and tape,
Patch up the shattered pieces... again.
Stitch and sew and mend...
But now the tape just isn't holding,
I'm an actress that can no longer perform.
My thoughts are a mess, I feel helpless -
My chest is dark, hollow, filled with the space that you stole.
That space would be the eternal love I had for you
The thing that was keeping me alive
My everything depended on you -
But now that I know it's a lie...
I feel like I've lost my ability to dance
g-rain evident-sYour subtle curvesg-rain evident-s8 years ago in Surrealism More Like This
a river's spills
until we reach
beach and banded
sands of brine deltas
near as nothing else
what dwells seaside
to real waves
this place we
me with a
If a Lion Could SpeakThe world churns this body,If a Lion Could Speak10 years ago in Open More Like This
has been my whitish ipecac,
like a big tongue in the gut,
has made me hurtle words.
I am a refinery, a plant that shits beauty.
Im tired and frightened, that is depression,
Ive said it before. Nothing is everything is love,
and no great love for the man'inventing.
Touch me off, go back to the aether,
monkey fist, half-hitch, noose.
Love is a sandpaper, it smooths corners,
it bevels edges, it makes dust of us,
finally we go back to the wind.
Every ribcage is a ladder with rungs
of bone. Im glad Im thin
so I can count how high I have to go.
On the hunt, the devil grass hurts
my eyes. Id rather sleep,
Id rather yawn my children into petted being.
The thousand frights between
my lips have made such games
of ivory shaking in the voice of earth.
Down at the r
Emerging Into BlueEmerging Into Blue10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She said with an almost sad smile
"Like you emerged from black
"And fell into blue."
"Blue is such an appropriate color for you.
"Like your eyes
"Deep and endless,
"Transient past this plane.
"Pushing past the boundaries of never and could have been
"Into endless realization of what is and can be
"To the border of human thought
"Have you passed us by and left us here alone?"
HIT ME RUNNINGDon't sell me funeral plotsHIT ME RUNNING11 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
on late night television
if the end is already in sight
am I supposed to pull the sheets up to my neck,
count to zero,
smile, and cease?
keep your pills, in all their pretty colors:
celebrex, propecia, allegra, lipitor, zanex, viagra
keep them for scrabble
keep your rogaine, your facelifts
keep your death insurance
keep your graveyard reservations
hit me running.
let me go down swinging
make it a sport:
give me a ten-minute head start
and an obstacle course.
place a beautiful girl on the far side of a mine field
and whisper, "she wants to kiss you"
target me on my feet
dodging doomsday's in slow-mo bullet time
let me duel the grim reaper in a poetry slam
but let me lay where i fall
let the buzzards and coyotes
pick apart my bones
don't stuff me and sew me up
waste my estate on alcohol for my wake
instead of wood for a coffin,
build me a funeral pyre
and set me ablaze like a pagan-warrior-king
ThoughtsThoughts13 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
In the months that I've spent on deviantART, I've met numerous people of all ages and from all walks of life, joined together as a community by a single entity: the love of and for art. It didn't matter whether one was into poetry, wallpapers, 3D abstract images, prose, indyart or freehand; what mattered was the love shared for works that spilled forth from heart, soul and mind.
Many times have I sat in front of my computer screen and cried for no other reason except for the fact that I was, clichéd as it may sound, moved to tears. Some works I understood more than others, and this was because deviantART not only allowed us to share our works: it let us interact, meet, greet and debate at large whatever the topics may be. The community that existed here was a step above others, because it was not based purely on interaction or art alone; both elements combined gave an even more honest view into an individual's soul and personality, and with that, knowing a person made their works conta
PathosPathos9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Words just don't say it well enough
When the grey clouds hang like dead dreams
In the cold winter sky
And everything seems that much darker
The silver lining of clouds refuses to shine
Even on the people who have been saved
The days when the smell of Winter's embrace
Seems to freeze your lungs
And that warmth in a kind stranger's gaze
Has frozen over and been snuffed out
When all the stars refuse to glow
And the snow corrects the straight lines of humanity
The bleakness chokes the life from our hearts
And your eyes want to know how deep these scars go
Straight through my soul
asea, tonightasea, tonight10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I'm at your door; can hear the brass and bass,
the snare drum, through the glass. It's jazz, tonight.
You let me in and suddenly I'm in
a room of profound poets, who sing their verse
through shining horns, sweet saxophone riffs.
The solos drift so richly, dance among smoke rings—
tonight, when everyone's somebody's cool cat.
There's a girl whose trumpet weeps when she woos its keys,
those wailing notes like Miles would have played.
And the long-haired bassist pains his face as he plucks
away at the tired shape the body makes,
he sways. And when the guitar's clean strings do sing,
it's melody carries a twang so sweet—it's jazz,
tonight. Tonight!— We can be alive, tonight.
And I'm in the corner, no horn in hand, not even
a cigarette for now. I'm just a shadow this evening,
no harmony for me. Just silent taps
of thumbs on thighs; of a breath before sirens sing.
Tonight, blue tunes knew the way through a smoky
sea—found me… Last I heard they were still awaiting