The VeilI look into the mirror and see a faceThe Veil2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It is not one I am familiar with, my heart races
Shadows and mist part and the reflection comes in paces
It is of a woman, but I am a man, she reaches out to me, her hand chases
After me as I run, but there is no escape, for I am hers, hands and hearts entwined in laces
WolfWherefore is thine spirit? Tis not to be found.Wolf2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
O'er on the field lit brightly by thine wandering moon.
Lupus howls, is heard twine thine world and ravages 'round.
Fools rush forward, ne'er seen only to be heard warily too soon.
HallowedHaunting arias and uplifting requiems fill the airHallowed1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
A love I feel that is awesome and true, the spirit of nature
Land, Air, Water, Fire, Void and Wood are the elements found here
Letting them into me to seek and find the perfect balance that sustains
On the wings of dusks breeze do I feel the elements rushing through my soul
Wedded bliss and rapturous kiss, I seal my fate with the cloak of Gaias' embrace
Exaltations and chantings found here, the love of all humanity held in my heart so dear
Deep in this night, upon the witching hour do I feel the sublime touch my heart with sheer power
VoiceVessel of life in a body defined, sexuality unrefined.Voice2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Of blood and flesh and lies I make myself efficiently maligned.
In years of truth and holes in memory fraught, I see a life unshined.
Carefully on waters rocky and turbulent I tread, to a sacred truth I must find.
Even late now in my life I stand my ground and rebuke all that has been to me assigned.
waiting forTheir skin is rain-colored, and lightly stained with pomegranate red to remind them of when the saints were called upon to slit their throats while the summertime sky was asleep,waiting for5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
(and they don't remember because they were busy lying through their teeth, hoping that it would count as flossing.)
There are three of them, three beautiful girls, suspended over the land in a balcony by a thundering ocean. Their eyelids have flaked away, and the older of the three girls mutters;
"Now we can see the world the way it is meant to be seen, with our eyes wide open."
and the other two reply simultaneously, less than excited;
"I'd rather see this world with my eyes wide shut."
They're all the death of the party, and they're all the life of the funeral. They're talent-less, too, and only have stories about the rips on their shoulders and the gashes on their heels,
(and they are the most gorgeous, and dazzling stories my ears have ever had the delight
ThirteenThisThirteen2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
nimble with words.
Mirror Portal with Candle Key Mirror Portal with Candle KeyMirror Portal with Candle Key 2 years ago in Settings More Like This
This is a large mirror, either free standing or mounted on a wall. The mirror is a magic portal that is activated only by a person holding a specific burning candle. The person holding the candle and any creature or person touching him or her will be able to walk through the portal. Only the one specific candle will activate the portal when lit and held. The portal leads to another identical mirror portal in another chamber. If either mirror is broken, the magic will no longer function. If the lit candle key is not within five feet of the mirror, the mirror portal is inert and will not function, seeming in every way to be an ordinary mirror. A detect magic will detect transmutation magic on the mirror even if it is not activated by the candle key. Another version of this mirror may require a PC to wear a specific type of robe while holding the candle key, or even chant a specific chant while wearing the robe
Tomorrow And Infinity"Scared?"Tomorrow And Infinity4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
serviceHe's everyone to me,service5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Anywhere I look he's staring back at me.
Once upon a time something not so amazing happened. I learned how to air guitar, and how to move my hips, and that the chorus on the TV isn't the whole song, no matter how many times I see the commercial.
I also learned that the words that I knew as a little kid aren't right, but sometimes being right is wrong and I'd rather look back on the words I came up with, than the ones that actually were.
About a year ago I figured out that Led Zeppelin was a play on words and not the name of a guy in the band, and this past few months I realized that the squiggles on the metal boxes outside on street corners spell the word alpha, and they weren't those mazes they used to give us in school that you'd solve with your pencil.
I'd hate to think that everyone is born with a reason.
I'd rather earn my reason than be born with it.
I found a world and lost it again, which seems to happen a lot. What else is there to find?
If I were Alice, I
Mana Berry VineMana Berry Vine1 year ago in Settings More Like This
Found here and there in Mist World, mana berry vines are long spiraling vines that grow mana berries. Many berries are blue glowing berries about the size of a blueberry. When consumed, a ripe mana berry will boost a spellcaster's spell power. One average sized mana berry vine will contain 2d6 ripe mana berries. Mana berry vines are very expensive and difficult to grow. At market a batch of six mana berries costs 25 gold pieces. High quality mana berries have higher potency but cost twice as much!
One mana berry = +1 caster level for 2d6 rounds.
One high quality mana berry = +1d4 caster levels for 2d6 rounds.
Mana berries can be stored in a small jar, bag or flask for up to a year before losing their potency.
The Perfect Youth Who Performs SlaughterThe Perfect Youth Who Performs SlaughterThe Perfect Youth Who Performs Slaughter1 year ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Praise to you,
But a thousand times to me
On every breath.
Such a free thing,
A small thing, a petty thing;
But when you have lungs of oak
Every breath is a new beginning.
There are hieroglyphs
On these vertebrae,
Spelling a name Isis hesitates on
In every dreamer's pause.
This is the holocaust you cannot deny,
For the rain will only fall
When I permit it.
Sirenum ScopuliOnce upon a time, I loved into life, but I fell in love with the swamp.Sirenum Scopuli5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I found her in the tak tak tak of the wind tugging on the weather door. I always wondered, under my blankets, whether it was footsteps or heartbeats.
It's both. Through the tak tak of the screen door, and thump of a fallen apple, she crept so deliciously over my ears, nose, lips. Say it again, Love: "Crept so deliciously," because these are the sounds of the swamp. Through the shadows of the apple tree, she entered my eyes. She woke me with her touch, called me in the sounds of rain on leaves.
She taked around the storm door to plant blue kisses on my ears. Your imagination would paint her green or brown, but she all day collects the blue sky in her moss-nets and colors her eyes and skin and hair at night so that she can steal into what is not hers and claim it.
"Come with me." Cicadas and bullfrogs. Finger-tendrils around my hands, dead grass tugging at my bare legs, and cautionary root
080. WordsWords fly over my head, missing my mind. But why? Why am I unable to understand them? The words are familiar but their meanings are lost on me. I am floating in an emptiness yet something is there with me, speaking to me, in words which mean nothing and everything. Words flying, lighting the darkness.080. Words5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"Her eyes are open?" One voice said, musical and bright, a mellow blue-purple.
"Don't worry the drug still dulls her senses." A gruff voice, red and yellows, grating across the grey.
"Is this wise?" softer, the bright colours duller.
"It is worth it." A darker red, less yellow.
"But does that make it wise?" faded colours, soft.
"Stop your whining!" Darts of yellow piercing the blood red.
I wondered what the words mean, and why they were so colourful, like flashing lights or splashes of coloured liquids. Nothing is clear and I have no feeling, everything is numb, I am black. I drift away for a moment.
"Three days? Is it supposed to be so long?" blue-purple but with streaks of grey.
Show and TellShow and TellShow and Tell9 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
The idea behind what constitutes 'telling' is probably the most often confused by critics who are new to poetry.
The general notion of it has been around for centuries in all types of literature, but the approach to it was tightened considerably in the 1920s by those of the Modernist school of thought – most notably TE Hulme, HD and Ezra Pound who adapted many tenets of the French school of Symbolism into Imagism.
This leaves us with the current poetic climate, which shuns the idea of a pseudo-poet narrator (as favoured in lyrical poetry – Shelley's Ode to the West Wind, for example) in favour of less intrusive accounts.
The guidelines that it encourages are pretty logical, and mostly just serve to crystallize a critical paradigm present long before it was given this name. It's simply a matter of narrative viewpoint.
If I say 'The man is sad' I am intruding upon the narrative with my own opinion.
If I say 'The man is crying' then the reader makes up their own mind
Submitting Prose: a GuideSo, you've written a piece of prose--be it a story, a guide, a review, or an essay. You've used your trusty word processing program (probably Microsoft Word or Open Office) and you've decided to submit it to deviantArt, whether its for the adulation you will receive, to share it with the world and get their comments, or to get constructive feedback, this guide is for you.Submitting Prose: a Guide4 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
You want your reader to take your work seriously; you need to also take it seriously. Edit your writing, check for simple errors, and try to make it look as professional as you can.
Use your program's spellcheck function.
Remember, it won't notice if you spell a word correctly but use the wrong form.For example:
There is usually a place. Their is a possessive pronoun. They're is a conjunction of two words: They are.
Usage: Over there is where they're hiding their cars.
Check your verbs.Verbs usually denote action, but not every verb is an action verb. What
The LinebreakThe LinebreakThe Linebreak9 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
A line has three points of strength: its beginning in correlation with the prior line's end, its end in correlation with the next line's beginning, and its strength as a separate unit in the narrative development.
The first two points are points of emphasis; the first word, or possibly phrase, is emphasised by its primary position. Likewise, the word or phrase at the end of the line receives emphasis. Both of these points in a line form a logical link: the ending of a line leads on to the beginning of the next, particularly if enjambed. This allows a twist in meaning to be achieved by the break. At this point things become a little vaguer, since both 'meaning' and subsequently 'twist' are difficult to pin down. The twist may come in a pun, a shift of narrative focus, a change in sonics, in voice, or simply something worth emphasising.
The third point is the strength of the line as a unit. A line should in its own way advance the narrative of a poem significantly an
The Sabbats and LinksIntro into the SabbatsThe Sabbats and Links6 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Not all Wiccans celebrate the Sabbats the same and not all Wiccans will believe the same details as other Wiccans when it comes to Sabbats, it largely depends on the practitioner and how they feel comfortable worshipping.
The Sabbats were used not only for spiritual growth and Deity closeness by the Pagans but also for harvest and planting celebrations and is used more as the changing of the seasons for Wiccans.
Wiccans enjoy working their rituals around the Sabbats to help increase the rites effectiveness and to help bond them closer to their dedication. Each Sabbat comes with a wealth of strengths to help Wiccans decide how best and when to practice.
Wiccans also do very much what the Pagans did back in the day when it comes to connecting with our Divine on those special times when nature and our souls are so well in tune. Pagans would use what was available to them at the time to decorate their altar because, unlike us, they didnt have very ma
The Poetic Mind as a MuscleThe Poetic Mind as a MuscleThe Poetic Mind as a Muscle2 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
As a poet at any given skill level, you might ponder different ways to advance your mastery of the craft. You might spend weeks dissecting famous and not so famous poets. You might read countless articles on poetic technique. You might just plow through any and every collection you can get your hands on, track all of the most well-know journals, follow all of the contemporaries. All of these things add up to a knowledgeable poet. However, does this necessarily make you a better poet?
No. The reason is that most of us equivocate poetic skill with divinely gifted talent. We often think of poetry as a latent ability that we merely possess or do not. This leads to certain diseases within the mind, whether it be the idea that our words are beyond reproach because they are "self expression," or we decide that words come out and that's all there is to it. Other times we are stricken by the undeniable flaws of our work, even t
AbstractionAbstractionAbstraction9 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Abstract, abstraction and so on are words thrown around all the time in poetry, and often without much solid – or at least congruent – meaning.
An abstraction is literally a 'taking-away' from something, a vaguer look at a solid concept. For example, we could say that 'animal' is an abstraction from 'cow', or that 'person' is an abstraction from 'telephone repairman'.
An abstraction may also be an abstract noun, though, such as 'love', 'peace', 'death', 'fortune', etc.
Or it may be an abstract verb, such as 'eat' or 'move' or 'take'. More concrete verbs might be 'chew', 'walk' and 'grab', or might entail phrases such as 'eat with cutlery', 'move on foot' or 'take in his hand'.
The logic is that the word is a non-specific generalisation based on an observed event or series of events. All you need to know is that an abstract word is like using a generic template. Saying 'it was love' calls upon well worked, common (trite) concepts of what 'love' means. It contains noth
PUMPKIN FAIRYPUMPKIN FAIRY5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Please read the edited version of the story published here: http://angiesdiary.com/stories/fantasy/pumpkin-fairy/
I left the old version with all the errors of writing, for the sake of the writers who will read this story.
I hope you will enjoy it.
Thank you so much!!
OLDER NON-EDITED VERSION
The pumpkin was strange. It gave him the creeps. It was as creepy as the shop he'd bought it from and the ugly woman who'd sold it to him. She was like the bad witches in fairy tales. He'd be happy to run out of the shop,but they were poor. They couldn't afford the beautiful pumpkins bought by other families. Mom was involved in witchcraft-at least that's what she pretended. She earned some money by telling fortunes,mainly by tarot cards. Sometimes she made love potions and cast spells.
They had to buy a pumpkin, she told him. A witch's house had to be decorated with a pumpkin for Halloween.
But the woman in the shop was nothing like Mom. And the pumpkin was terrifying.Coming to think of it, it wo
TransformacionEra de noche en aquel bosque de árboles milenarios. No había nubes en el cielo estrellado y una intensa luna media emitía su luz blanca por todo el lugar haciendo que estuviera mágicamente iluminado. El viento discurría por las copas de los árboles y movía sus ramas de forma tranquila. En ese mismo lugar, se encontraba una manada de licántropos. Estas criaturas vivían separados del mundo humano, pero algunas veces sus gentes se mezclaban con las personas normales para asegurarse que los humanos nunca conocerían su existencia a menos, claro está, que ellos decidieran mostrarse. Nuestra atención se dirige hacia una parte del territorio de esa manada, donde al parecer las cosas estaban un poco alteradas.Transformacion5 years ago in Spiritual & Occult More Like This
-Estaos quietos. Mira que estáis alborotados. -Dijo una hembra a los cachorros que tenía a su alrededor.
-No queremos irnos a dormir. -Decía uno de ellos mirando a la loba que les cuidaba.- Queremos esperar a Pap