Autumn TangoВновь осень настала, прогнав со двораAutumn Tango2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Любимое мной, долгожданное лето.
От ветра подёрнулось пламя костра
И всё, что надеждами было согрето.
Нещадная осень, ты губишь меч
White RabbitI guess you could call me a white rabbit of sorts.White Rabbit3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A red herring,
A trail gone cold,
Or a bright light
Leading unsuspecting victims away from the safety of shore.
They will drown.
[but then again, I am too]
I'll take you to a world you would wish you hadn't seen
And you'd be begging to pluck out your own eyes
Clawing at the empty sockets like a mad man trying to rid himself of a dark sin.
[Painting a pretty picture in your mind already, aren't I?]
You followed me down this twisted hole.
I warned you that those who play with fire
I can find my way around in the darkness down here,
But you will never adjust to the nothingness
Because with it,
You can not accept the truth without realizing the mistakes you have made,
[And no one ever wants to admit they aren't perfect.]
So why can't you just stay up there
With others so much like yourself in the light -
What is so intriguing about the mysteries of the night?
MoonburntCarelessly,Moonburnt2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she sleeps with the window opened
and the nighttime's sun,
that isn't quite a star,
paints her face and neck
with a strange,
and deposits a burning desire
to absorb it all.
Introductory DeathIntroductory Death3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
In the dark and cryptic year of 1190, a middle-aged man suited in chain-mail and armor gracefully paced back and forth on a rotted wooden stage. Behind him were a series of beaten men and women tethered to wooden poles by their broken necks. The man pacing on the platform, a Templar responsible for their deaths, barked something in a foreign language and pointed to the limp bodies behind him; his audience immediately responded in a savage gleeful roar. This lively, public event was all being analyzed by a dark ominous figure lurking in a bell tower not far from the scene. He took a slow step forward into a weak ray of light that revealed him to be a young hooded man dressed in a long elegant white robe decorated by strategically-placed weapons, loyal and ready for use. The giant weather-beaten bell behind him rung forth. It was noon. It was time. The bell rung back and he was gone.
He now stood at the base of the massive stone tower. Having the pre-planned moves in mind, he immediately
The BalloonShe hated him so much that she wanted to love him. She wanted to love him more than anything in her life. She wanted to wrap him up in her arms and promise to keep him forever.The Balloon2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
But they tell her to leave him. "We know his type," they say. "The minute you begin to care about him, he leaves you forever and you'll be left to pick up the pieces."
She knows that they're right. She holds him by a string while he's miles above her. She loathes him, but her heart races every time she thinks of letting go of the string. She closes her eyes and the minute she opens them, she has to frantically reach for him.
Purple shadows grow beneath her eyes and blisters form where she has him tied at her wrist.
"Let him go," they whisper as they try to loosen him from her arm.
She shuffles, sleepy-eyed through the park, dragging him along behind her. A woman runs up behind her and points to the string.
"He is absolutely lovely. You're very lucky to have him miss," the woman says.
She begins to remove him fro
this ain't a movie.I stare through the window atthis ain't a movie.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
weak tree branches
being whipped by rain and
trying to 'understand' the
AskTheArtist InterviewInterview with *JonasDeRo 11/11/12AskTheArtist Interview1 year ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
<thefluffyshrimp> Welcome to ASKtheARTIST. My name is ~thefluffyshrimp and today I have the great privilege to interview *JonasDeRo, a very talented artist and creator of many well-known works on deviantART.
<thefluffyshrimp> Thank you for presenting us with this opportunity to interview you, JonasDeRo.
<JonasDeRo> Hello all, the pleasure is all mine!
<thefluffyshrimp> ~Fisharto asks "Without sharing too much of your ways to making environments how do you come up with ideas for painting?"
<JonasDeRo> Hello Fisharto, good question!
<JonasDeRo> I would say my main source of inspiration is traveling. I love painting but I love to travel even more; seeing cities, towns, nature really inspires me in the first
Nazariteguide me to the pillarsNazarite3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
that I might
in one last act of sanity
pull down the artifice
of the idol worshippers
and pass, with some dignity,
into the questionable histories.
when all is said and done
and shed and won, the truth
is that I will die alone
in the presence of my enemies
and be eulogized by those
who deserted me in life
as an inconvenient passion.
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.
University (Almost) HaikuGoing to universityUniversity (Almost) Haiku1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
to get my degree
BombsIBombs3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Running through my veins,
Like marathons, it rolls
Down my spine
Up again along that line
Heading towards the crook of my neck
I got to make sure
That I'm all set and checked
Like the bomb I am.
Because this heart
Is just too big
And this soul
Is too large
For this small,
Body to take.
Take them down
Take them all down
Because this world spins too fast
And I can't make it last.
It's too loud for you guys to take
The ringing in your ear might make it break.
It's just fascinating!
Thousands of pieces fly
Making their places in the earth, wind, waters, and sky.
My words are that powerful
I will reach you with my lines
I don't need any other sign
Before I blaze
Ten years old
Nine years to come
Eight years gone
Seven years lost
Six years remembered
Five years forget
Four years gone
Three years my return.
Two years done.
There is always one more year to go.
The Nature of ScarsToday, a little girl came up to me.The Nature of Scars4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She pointed at my arm and said,
How did you get that scar?
I told her, Someone gave it to me.
They grabbed me, clawed me, let me go,
and now there is a scar.
For all to notice,
for everyone to see.
Such is the nature of outside scars.
I sometimes wish people could see my heart.
Then they would point at it and say,
How did you get that scar?
I would tell them, someone gave it to me.
He took it, played with it, then left it alone,
and now there is a scar.
Very hard to notice,
that only I can see.
Such is the nature of inside scars.
Eyes of BrownI thought they would be brownEyes of Brown4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Hues of autumn leaves whirling in fiery golden amber
Melting like maple honey upon carnal petals of deep roses veiled in musk
As I sought to emerge from my wanderings and entice snow to be benignly chain my gaze
They were not a palette of warmth
But rather a wash of pale light
Of sea foam and spring buds and winter fog
Of morning mist and infant feathers and dew-kissed grass
Of a gaze so entrancing, yet so trapped within the locket of temptation
Words would flutter from the cage of conscience
Divided from where the heart quivered
Lost within the transient kingdom of gentle hues
But, perhaps of flames that threatened to bestow birth to a clandestine passion
The gaze is turned away, a treasure for no key but one
A fleeting amour that hopes to evanesce into sea foam
And nothing more than an ashen feather
To mark behind a youthful delirium.
life's struggleyou started a journey,life's struggle3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with a guy you held near.
no more being lonely,
nothing left to fear.
It ended all too soon
you feel pain and regret.
your thoughts won't attune,
still trying to forget.
your heart ripped apart,
the cracks begin to show,
but it's a new start,
I'll tell you now:
Ne pleurons pas de la galère de la vie.
C'est un voyage qu'on doit entreprendre.
N'oubliez pas que vous n'êtes pas seul.
SHADOW SISTERForgotten are my fear and frozen passivity,SHADOW SISTER3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
your stare is my shadow, your silence my
source of self-creation, I feel your dark
divinity catching me when I fall from the
secret suffering I abhor, drawing me up again
from the black hole of my mortal depression,
your image is the mirror to my inner goddess
I must reclaim, and when I do I will stretch
myself upon the dark wings of Night and read
the scroll of Stars, I will drink your blood
that flows hot and thick between my passion-
parted lips, for it is your life that is the
fluid course of healing, a world of wisdom
and feeling I must explore, and as I learn
to stand up from the frozen fragments of Fear
that once left me barren-a rootless island
seeking to anchor myself to Creativity's Sea
-at last I can look you straight in the eye,
naked as every liberated raven that flies
toward the Midnight Sun-so will I be, your
liberation is my libation, and as I dig myself
up from my undead burial, I am not afraid of
the Darkness, it is my Coura
Just another lifeBorn like most,Just another life3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
an average boy,
nothing to boast,
still alot of joy.
an age to play,
no one seems dull,
thoughts aren't grey
but very colorful.
You show me my place,
a threat with broken glass,
you'd cut my face
in front of this mass.
nerves shutting down,
starting to go insane.
Closing darkness, prepare to drown.
I close my mouth first,
then my eyes and ears.
You're definitely the worst
of all my fears.
On this theatre of life,
I'm playing mime,
closing myself from others.
Can't help myself this time.
Trusting people another day,
my heart bruised, left unspoken.
Am I afraid to say
It's already broken?
Keeping another secret,
locked in my mind.
Someone will regret
of not being kind.
These symbols I write,
can't pronounce or read.
Giving me strength to fight
and that's what I need.
Heaven is Other Roko INA part 2Heaven is Other Roko INA part 22 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The chalk ticked repeatedly as the master wrote on the board. The master, a heavyset brok, was quite old, though not to say feeble. He was a hundred and ten still fit compared, even compared to some of the young students who were just now growing out of their teens, and had grown up on a sedentary lifestyle. Even the room was mostly spared from the summer heat, though the magic was only temporary and the number of warm bodies pushed that temperature back up.
"You have to forget all you know about distribution and logistics," he said, "what we reserve for a national scale, they imparted to every individual in every culture, save for the occasional small, isolated village. The basis for this system is what, Sharikola?" he said, without turning away from the board.
Shari froze, halfway through the curtain that divided the room from the outside. The other adolescents snickered, all of them sitting of laying on cushions that filled the room, either on the bench lining its perimeter or simpl
Porch Swingi. It's December,Porch Swing1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
the warm part of winter
snow is a blanket
and the fireplace crackles.
We eye the elephant-package
covered in crumpled birthday paper.
The paper flies
beneath it we gasp,
and the boys and girls
smile and take our picture.
ii. We're safe
from the April showers
beneath the roof of our porch.
We swing back and forth
for the first time.
I place my head
in the crevice
between your shoulder
and your neck.
We talk for two hours
about the azaleas.
iii. Our daughter's
runs through the sprinkler
watering the dry August grass.
She sits in the middle
on our cheeks
iv. You were the one
who wanted the apple trees.
We eat Honeygolds,
though we ought to wait
You stand up
to get another one,
from the lowest branch.
I stay on the porch
and pick at the peeling paint
on the arm of the swing.
v. By February,
has gone and passed,
and I didn't get
Recipe: Deadly Chocolate Tea SconesDeadly Chocolate Tea SconesRecipe: Deadly Chocolate Tea Scones2 years ago in Editorial More Like This
Yes, chocolate. This is, of course, pure irony. Chocolate actually helps prevent heart disease, although people do die from chocolate (with allergies, obesity, etc.) However, in moderation, as these scones have, chocolate is a delightful supply of antioxidants, and well, isn't that just fantastic?
--From my own Asylum to yours,
Hell.I never believed in Hell,Hell.3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Until you came along.
You launched a dark demon down my spine,
leaving me breathless
as your breath is on my skin.
I linger for your cold touch
as your bruises cover your skin
like trophies of failures.
My veins feel hot,
too hot as my heart beats under my aching chest
as your gaze makes me feel like collapsing.
You've always made me feel weak.
I will come for teaI will come for tea, as promised,I will come for tea6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
to make certain you are well, in your exile,
hiding out from the complexities and vexities
that got in the way of who you wanted to be.
I will bring a small, lacquered box,
which I will take with me when I go,
leaving behind the gift of this year's visit, always there,
but never the same and something of a mystery.
I will come for tea, as promised,
and you will show me your garden, a source of pride
and life and the colours you draw upon to paint
and write and give us sight into the world you rule.
I will walk the cliffs with you, the sea crashing
with practiced rhythms that we will have to adapt to
if we are to speak with anything more than eyes
and the occasional touch to shoulder or wrist.
I will come for tea, as promised,
never making the offer I once made, for you know
it is still there, like a floorboard that creaks when stepped on
and never needs to be spoken of, unless you want to say "yes".
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.
Why?The night falls, bringing with it a cold darkness,Why?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A secret darkness, one that only she can see,
Darkness so cold, she burns herself upon touching it,
It is a darkness that seems to suck the very life out of her.
The stars twinkle above,
Glowing with lovely light,
But she won't dream of them,
No, not tonight.
The shadows tighten their grip on her,
Suffocating her with tentacles of terror,
Drowning her in a sea of pain,
And yet, no one sees.
She screams at the top of her voice,
But it'll be the same like last time, won't it?
The pain won't stop until she is broken,
Broken like a rag doll never to be repaired.
There is only pain going through her body,
It sears itself into her mind,
Leaving a bloody imprint,
And stealing her innocence.
Her dreams of candies and ponies are shattered,
Her drawings of happy families ripped to shreds,
Her quick scrawls become stained with red,
Stained, with the red of bloody suffering.
Why? She wonders,
Why does this always happen?
Is it because she is a bad
Advice from Master ShaoAdvice from Master Shao2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
As the Spinda moves
So the grass on the hill flows
A beautiful dance
As the Swablu sings
So does the wind in the trees
A beautiful song
As the Lunatone
Rises in the evening sky
The moon does also
Breath as the breeze does
Allow the wind to carry
Your spirit away
The world always moves
Regardless of what you do
You must also move
Sing like the Swablu
Rise just as the Lunatone
Dance like the Spinda
Stop to enjoy life
Or it will move without you
And you will be lost