A long way from New OrleansNumber nine, the speedo needle roars of the engine underneath.A long way from New Orleans8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Yank the throttle, glimpse the horizon, I'll go there,
wherever I want to.
She stood at the roadside, now where did she go?
With me, of course, let's ride into the nothingness,
talk the tales of your tall dreams at the stops we make,
breakfast at noon and tap three times when you need to go.
Cause it's a long way from New Orleans, babe.
Hollywood, hell, I just like to ride,
'specially with a pretty girl at my back.
You told me of your dreams when we stopped for coffee that time,
I smiled politely, cause I barely knew your name then, Kate.
Back when you only had your coat, your sunglasses, your dreams...
You really were a dreamer.
We'd set off again, you claimed you loved the ride,
I claimed I loved the company,
and we'd ride till the sun went down.
Gradually the motel rooms became room,
beds became bed,
and we went from travellers,
Kate, I never forgot the first kiss we shared, over fast-food
A Lesson In Singing Where is it, exactly, that a man keeps his soul? What organ of the body serves such a precious function? Whenever I ask this, the answer that most will give me with confidence is that it is in the heart. Yet I have seen the heart rent open most literally, and I can assure you that it is no more than any other muscle in the body.A Lesson In Singing9 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Some have told me that the soul resides in the brain, for this is where our logic and thoughts come from. Yet I have also seen skulls split, seen for myself this grayish lump that is so vital to existence. Though this may be the living-place of our thoughts, the soul certainly does not reside there.
The more whimsically-inclined have given me more thoughtful answers. The soul is infused in our blood, for this is the medium which brings us life. The soul is in the lungs, for it is these which draw the air into us in order that the blood may give us life. But again, I have seen both of these, and they differ in no way from the other organs which
In Silent ReverieI dream you to be something different than you are,In Silent Reverie11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I see your heart in words, and they make my heart flutter.
For that moment, I don't rely on false intentions,
With this love, I give you my wings.
Will our hearts burn in Heaven, while were waiting down here?
Waiting, hoping, praying for peace and answers,
But listen as the wind blows, and the rain falls down,
I want to chase away your fears, give you hope, even…
Even if it's my own.
And amid all what's left of my heart, I'll try till the day I die,
To give you hope, hold your hand, let you… fly without an anchor,
Even if it's to fly away from me, my tears will be your freedom,
And I would shed them gladly, or die trying to see you free.
I need no thanks, or payback gratitude, because now my heart is whole,
Your change, to have a life without the prison, is my reward a hundred fold.
And all the soft voices, whispering sweet words of hope and deliverance,
Carry me through my dreams, to find you, and hold you close.
And even if it isn't
Heaven is CryingListen to the raindrops on my window.Heaven is Crying11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Heaven is crying.
Was it something I did?
Something I said?
Is there a way to make it right?
The air is chilled.
The warmth of God's love is gone
and the tears are slowing.
Do Angels cry themselves to sleep too?
This Cut Tonight...This Cut Tonight...10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
There is an illness
No one else can see
All my sanity,
I'm hearing voices
They never ever
They haunt me
Every single day
Telling me that I'm a freak,
Telling me I'm just a slut,
Telling me that I'm too weak,
Telling me I need to cut
Why must my life
Be such a threat?
This cut tonight,
The deepest yet
I'm tired of running
From my past
I take drugs to forget,
But they never last
I'm always high,
Yet I feel so low
No matter how hard I try,
I can never let go
I stay alone,
So I can hide
But it all keeps building
Making me crazy,
Driving me mad
I'm losing everything
I ever had
I've lost myself,
This isn't me
Ths cut tonight,
Will set me free
I can't see
Anything but red
Inside my head
Telling me I don't deserve you,
Saying that I ruined your life,
Telling me to do this for you,
Pushing me towards the knife
I wish I could've made you happy,
My love for you
Was always true
Instead I only made you hate me
This cut toni
How to Properly Use the ForumsHow to Properly Use the Forums10 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
It has come to my attention that many people, for whatever reason (a lack of brain cells and surplus of watching MTV perhaps), don't know how to correctly go about the deviantART forums. Whether the said deviant doesn't know about the forums beyond the Deviants Forum; couldn't tell you what the word "etiquette" means if it kicked them in the ass; or just cannot find that silly, little "Reply" link, there is always someone out there having trouble with the forums which will always result in a flame. As hilarious and entertaining the flames may be, it is something that could be easily be avoided. However, the deviant must be willing to learn if they are going to ever grow to become an accepted member of the forums. So, to help prevent this, I have put together an easy (unless you're that dense) guide to the forums.
1. Gather knowledge
This step is a must if you wish to avoid being flamed or just looking like a dumbass. By reading this guide, you've taken a first step in acquiring
Five Things - The DateFive Things - The Date11 years ago in Humor More Like This
There are five main things that can go wrong during a date:
First of all, he can be married, and, glancing at the table beside yours, he sees his wife eating a gigantic lobster with her lover. You must endure yells of "you were supposed to be at your mother's" and "I thought you were working late". You and the lover stare at each other in embarrassment, and try to make uninteresting chitchat about the colour of the tablecloths. Finally, you slip away, unnoticed, when your date whacks the lover in the face with the large poached lobster, seconds after he's realised the crustacean will be charged to his credit card.
Your date can turn out to be a Mafioso from a distant country, wearing a fake moustache (the Mafioso, not the distant country). All will go well till the soup is served and he loses it (the moustache) into his Crème de Leek au Pepper. You don't panic, because you knew it was fake all along, but he does, yelling out
Sophisticated LadySophisticated Lady12 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"...And when nobody is nigh, you cry.
-Billie Holiday, Sophisticated Lady
You cry in the shower, where the water hides the tears, where the walls offer support, where you can hold yourself and rock your naked body without anyone telling you to stop. You can be alone with yourself, hurt yourself if you want, cut your wrists, scald your skin and drown out the tears with the drumming of the water against your ears.
You cry in your bed, where the tears disappear into the softness of the pillow, where the covers wrap around you like arms, where you can imagine someone, anyone, lying behind you in the bed, holding you tight, where you can talk to yourself as much as you want and no one can tell you to stop. You can squeeze your eyes shut to try and stop the crying, and fall into a bothered sleep.
You cry in front of your computer, where the tears disappear into the keyboard, where people try to comfort you from half a world away, wher
The Songs of CassielOnce upon a timeThe Songs of Cassiel12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I did not move
I did not live
in Time (I did not live)
and four songs I made
and did not sing
in the absence of Time.
This I did not sing
What are you searching for,
in this empty field?
Your listeners are not here;
your muse is long since departed.
Only the unseen hear you now,
and the story I would have of you
you do not know.
How long will you sit in your solitary chair,
silently waiting for your time
II. Dances so sweetly
This I did not sing
In the East I followed you through my land,
the realm of roof-tops;
unable to speak,
I put my hand on your back
which I could not feel,
and hid my head in your shoulder
to hear what I could not feel:
the steady sea-roar of your blood
that lived, the sparks of your thoughts crackling
in Time for the last time.
And when you flew, briefly, as humans can,
I turned away -
but to whom did I cry out "No!"?
III. Taking the plunge
Of this I did not sing:
SometimesSometimesSometimes5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
go wrong, it will be
as if your lost, confused
and lonely you'll have
nowhere to turn.
you'll be treading water
as you try and climb out.
seem like they'll get better
don't be fooled as
it's just lies,
drowning in blue
it's a tiring thing to do.
of that I'm sure.
the world will keep spinning
though there will be more blue
and a lot of red too
LonelyI'm all aloneLonely11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
though you're all here.
with your happiness
that I can't match.
I know you
care for me,
care about me.
But I feel like
you don't see me.
And that makes
me not real.
Island of lonely
in a sea of happiness.
Maybe it's because
I won't open up
and let you in.
But it feels like
it's more than that.
its closing in.
I can't breathe.
Now I'm really alone.
I was ever there.
You don't recognize
Have I changed
You haven't changed
It seems like
Still outgoing, crazy,
the opposite of me.
But we used to
be good friends,
Or was I just
pass time with.
figured out how
boring I was,
I'm cold now.
I wish I cold
turn to stone.
And not cry.
in a long time.
But I do when I'm alone.
Nothing is forever
And I can't
seem to kill myself.
I'm too weak
of spirit and b
Monsters In The ClosetMonsters In The Closet11 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Raye wasn't afraid of the dark. The dark was afraid of her.
The price was always negotiable: twenty bars of chocolate, an especially nice sandwhich at lunch, a pink skipping rope.
For especially pathetic cases, she was even willing to go as low as a half finished bottle of blue nail polish. That was what had brought her to the sleep over at June's house. June was small, thin and scared of the monster in her closet. No one believed her. Her parents thought the bruises came from school, and the school thought the bruises came from her parents.
Raye came along with her sleeping bag and her pillow, and a game of Monopoly Junior. June's mother greeted her kindly, like she didn't know what Raye was here for.
The girls played quietly Monopoly in the living room till it was time for supper. They ate in silence.
"My, aren't you good natured, Raye." June's mother said.
"Thank you, m'am." Raye answe
Expressions of the RazorExpressions of the Razor9 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She presses down on the razor, the blade sinking through the smooth surface easier than she expected. As the razor pokes into flesh with a surprising pop, she gasps and pauses for a second. She did not expect the blade to break through so easily. She thought for sure that it would take a few tries, a few lame attempts to build up courage.
She closes her eyes for only a second. Then she pulls the razor downward, tearing the skin and exposing what is inside. The razor glides easily in the direction that she pulls it, slicing as if the surface were butter.
Pulling the razor away from the incision, she bites her bottom lip, squeezing it tight between her teeth. She does not know whether she should stop or keep going. How deep is deep enough? How big is big enough? How many marks are enough? How many slashes? Slices? Carves? Gashes?
Wiping her brow, she takes the razor and stares into the rusty metal peeking out of the rubber casing. In an instant, she allows anger to fill her veins and pum
Assisted AnorexiaAssisted Anorexia12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Sickening to my stomach that you could do this to me
The one man in my life to unconditionally love me
Sees my faults
While I was making progress you only criticized me more
So now I'll be getting you back, watch the emptiness consume me
A little friend named Cap Sole, helping me keep out the Devil's delicacies
Within the childproof bottle, which I so easily surpassed
I picked it off the shelf guiltily looking there and left
It passed through the scanner at the fix-everything store
Some redecorate their houses to try and escape the pain
Some fill their lives with sweets to make up for the sour
I needed a way to reshape my life, sculpt and tone
I have only lived to see seventeen summers and still need nourishment
Daddy dear isn't happy with my current form, he wants me to look better
What is this bragging rights?
I've heard of a culture in which men reward passerbys by allowing them to use their daughters and wives
If I look more like Victoria will it help you in life?
Well I hope this
Why SIWhy SI12 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
It is both control and vulnerability, twisted together so fiercely that even I do not know when one is present as opposed to the other, or when they both consume me.
I can be the aggressor, and hurt myself, but I can choose when to stop, I have control. I can be the victim, and be injured, but I can choose when to say no, I can make the pain end, I have control. I can be the healer, and bandage myself up, bandage the physical wounds that are but a symptom of the emotional wounds. I have control; I am not helpless at the hands of another.
It distracts me; it gives me something to do. When the pain inside consumes me, I cut, and it is released. I focus on the blade, on the blood, and I breathe. Cool, calm, collected. I pour my energy into the wound, healing it, bandaging it. I can make it all better, like I cannot do with the emotional wound. I am not helpless. I will not be victimized by another.
If I am a victim, it is on my time, on my terms. I do the hurting, and I do the healing. Wh
01-06 - Terapia Pt 101-06 - Terapia Pt 19 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
- O quê? Quem?
- Nada. Ninguém.
- É a tua resposta para tudo?
- Não. Apenas a essas perguntas.
- Onde é que estás?
- Onde não quero estar.
- Aonde queres estar?
- Aonde não estou.
- És impossível sabes?
- Infelizmente sou bastante possível... mais do que gostaria.
- E não é bom?
- O quê?
- Existir essa possibilidade. De ser.
- Quando tenho forças para isso.
- Mas precisas de forças para ser?
- Não. Apenas para viver. Verdadeiramente. E ainda não consegui.
- Não serão apenas os teus objectivos difíceis demais para serem atingidos?
- Talvez. A felicidade é sempre difícil de atingir.
- Talvez a tua felicidade seja difícil de atingir.
- A minha é impossível.
- Nada é impossível.
- Apenas a minha felicidade.
- Eu não percebo porque é que gosto de ti.
- Nem eu. Mas isso passa. Passa sempre.
- Como é que podes ter tanta certeza?
- É um
Christmas JoyChristmas Joy9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Same season every year
no christmas joy
Raised suicide rates
a holiday plagued by lonliness.
A time of obligation
pushing your limits
No true cheer
just a facade.
Time with the family
a story of played happiness.
We're only together
because it's tradition.
One day a year
surrounded by people who don't care.
Push aside our inhibitions
and join the world
during this annual celebration.
The Sawe of LoveThe Sawe of Love10 years ago in Ballad More Like This
The happy Sawe that cut the Hande
Has joined the merrie friendshyppe bande.
Serrated edge in crymson hue,
Thou sliceth deep, thou cutteth true.
To mayke a friend, 'tis ne'er too harde.
Just leave thy lymbbs about his yarde.
All knowe that love be far more faire
With quarts of bloode spillt everywhere.
Mayhap this route's too harde for you?
Then e'en a plastic Sawe shall do!
The River WitchThe River Witch11 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
She came into town once a week, every Wednesday around noon. She'd buy feed for her chickens in the winter, and apples and flour in the summer. When asked if she needed milk, she said the does gave it to her when she needed it. Her name was Ella, but everyone called her the river witch. She lived in a small hut near the river, and rumours said she swam naked in the cold water. When she did, good things happened. Sometimes, bad things did. It depended on her mood. Never on what people could ask her to do. Never, the town-folk said. No one believed that, they said.
Still it was strange that she would have money enough to buy things every week, outsiders would say. Well, the town-folk would answer, she does do some good weaving, and she sells the honey from the wild bees from around her place. And sometimes, they'd add quietly, she'd do services for people.
The outsider's name was Quincy, and he was a doctor, assigned to the six or seven small villages in the area. "But how,"
Aethereal BreathAethereal Breath12 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Tantalizing tendrils slink, and
slide; so sensuous.
Wicked warmth winding its way
around soft skin, touching
phantom fingers feather fine
hairs, tiny tremors one to the next
deliciously decadent shivers;
Sleeping beauties sigh softly in
sweet slumber; dreams?
or small deaths?
Euphoric bliss abounds
in this elysian embrace.
S. Nycole Bridle 7/29/2003
Cup of Tea PromiseCup of Tea Promise8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A cup of tea promise
starts, watered down
lies and coffee
We take a breath,
inhale the aroma of the mug,
accept what we find,
we drink to our own distaste.
Between bitter sips
warmed chests, clutched hands,
we sit in comfort of this liquid--
as if an elixir of life
snuck into the drink.
Despite cups with cracks and chips
we grip our mugs for comfort
Mermaid GamesAuriela swam towards the mouth of the underwater cave eagerly. She ignored the streams of colorful fish milling about the coral bedecked outcroppings of the sea mount. She even paid no mind to the ominous forms of the sharks that patrolled the shoals in their search for food. Nothing could dampen her mood today. She had some new riddles to try on Zavander. She entered the the dark gloom of the cave and began to swim upwards. Far above there was a light shining dimly, casting an eerie glow upon the stony walls around her as she ascended the tunnel through the water. The water about her began to lighten as she neared the mouth of the tunnel, until finally she breached the water. She found herself in a small alcove near the summit of the sea mount that breached the surface of the ocean just enough to allow the light from a crack in the cave's wall to illuminate and warm it during the day. In the sun's bright rays, lay sprawled Zavander's smoothly scaled form as he dosed in the noonday sunMermaid Games4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
InvisibleInvisible11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Lost in my mind
I have gone numb
Focused on pain
But pain will not come
Burned to the core of my dead soul
Dreaming of days I once felt whole
My body is empty
My heart has gone cold
My eyes have been blinded
With the reflections of my old.
I cannot breath
I can only lie in this tomb, my mental sty
I lay and I wait in my own decay
And imagine a life not blown away.