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Similar Deviations
    It came in tasteful gestures on a shouldered backward breeze. Ghosts of smiling children rocked the rusting set of swings. Plucking yellow daisy tops, in streams the stones did sink. While birds of cream and navy rode above a gust of pink. The sun rays pressed their fingers through the isle of cobwebbed clouds. Spitting shafts of sunlight lift the humming branches' sound. The sipping of the soil weaned as dewdrops fell in threes. In this brutte of cradled roots I lay beneath the trees.
I know nature is a subject poets have literally beat - to - death,
but when I woke up this morning and looked out my window, I couldn't help but scribble down a few observations... C:


Beautiful preview image belongs entirely to *emerald753
Do not use without their approval.


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Poem © Sadee Esquivel
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GERMAN PASSION

by Uwe Lammler


We live in tribes, where strife and envy
From the edge of history cries out for fratricide
We dream in forests with dense foliage,
In the fog and below the silence of the Rauhnacht,
We reign in legends, sung from far away,
Noone penetrates in the glow of our Sun Fire
And lately became a name our taint and reward
But even our becoming was always passion.

The wall of the Romans cut through our land,
The West and the South supported the enemy
And bought from outside with good profit
Amber and various household items made of tin,
But even the tamed in the Roman state,
Thought about renunciation and vile treachery,
Wakes up in the Cherusci the old teutonic spirit,
Varus will become the victim of the German passion.

Who doesn´t avoid horror, should be warned,
Death won´t be longer a suffering, the death will be passion,
Who stays close to the source, who gives birth to life,
Laughs at the fools who adorn shamefully themselves,
Barbar, which was meant as insult and contempt
Emerged rapidly as a historical power,
And soon will Byzantium his hero legions
find in the tribes of the German passion.

The fervor that is longing for the saviour himself,
Choked the priests and oppressive tithe,
Those who are free, will not tolerate tax and customs,
Encounters sycophants from windows and shows his rage
With weapons, that have no glory or decoration
The rural life helped him,
And against thieves only the reformation helped,
So also Mr. Tetzel experienced the German Passion.

We are placed in the center of Europe,
We unite the small things of the great deeds of the world,
The divine law, in the spirit of the man
Vouched, makes us united and fruitful, and complete,
By Italians and Swedes chosen as battlefield,
Germany has lost a whole century,
But the occupiers draw with curses and drone,
There still remains the Germanness forever Passion.

Because seriously, the German's think about love, and the fight,
the faith, the law and justice,
He does not tolerate phrase, theater, decoration,
He demands loyalty, honor, deeds,
He hates an order convenient and corrupt,
For him it is the same as a devil and a dragon, scaly,
Till Siegfried, Sieglinde´s son
The monster lets feel the German Passion.

In France the king lost his head,
As freethinking as hazardous man
There where game and the lack of seriousness at the palace
Flaunted in silliness, for noone there too stupid,
The effort averse and ask yourself boldly
Uplifting, invented a regime's purpose,
But even if someone found there an enthusiastic tone,
Remained the Germans still in the Passion.

Since pure consumption triggers the finiteness
At first, the neighbors were redeemed.
The empire that was once given by Rome the holy rod
Brought the Corsican an inglorious grave,
Until finally the Prussians and Bismarck shrewdly
Were successful that the german spirit took place in the fatherland,
And towers and monuments worshiped, the throne
Appeared as a witness of the German passion.

The German successes, the fleet, the army,
Endured the Anglos only grinding and hard
They created alliances, to stop the diligence
Of the Germans, who annoy with their genius knowledge and deeds,
They searched for weaknesses of the empire,
They based,  what was broken, what is rotten and withered,
Till belligerence intoxicated Europe like poppies,
For Germany, the road to the worst passion.

Not only failed the empire to win,
The peace was worse than any war,
In the east dismembered, occupied in the West,
A state without dignity and hunger finally,
A man and an indian symbol of life,
They rose and became German Idols
What they promised, as they would have it already
Thus the Germans dreamed in their passion.

But deeper than the first time falls
The German in the delusion that the hatred of the world
Arriving with weapons, with followers alone,
As could the leader be God's son,
And Pusillanimity is replaced with what was megalomania,
And German means now to show contrition,
For the Germans is Germanness now loathing and scorn,
They mock their existence and their own passion.

How long should it go? some people wonder and believe
All Germans have become crazy,
But gather far away from the speeches of the parties
Outlaws, ready to be Germans once more.
They gather together, wake up the emperor in the Kyff,
Who reached more holiness than anyone before,
The palaces united in the Castle Octagon
As a battlefield of the mind and the German Passion.
Don´t be suprised when the grammar looks a bit strange, even the german original lyrics are very old-fashioned and don´t make always sense...that´s poetry^^

It´s a poem about the german passion about the last 2000 years, made by Uwe Lammler in 2006,one of the last patriotic poets in modern times.

The Rauhnacht were the last days of the germanic year in december. On the picture you see the Reichsburg Cochem at the Rhein river.

Youtube:

[link]

German Lyrics:

DEUTSCHE PASSION

von Uwe Lammla


Wir leben in Stämmen, wo Zwietracht und Neid
Vom Rand der Geschichte nach Brudermord schreit,
Wir träumen in Wäldern mit dichtem Gezweig,
Im Nebel und unter der Rauhnacht Geschweig,
Wir herrschen in Mären, die fern einer singt,
Der nie in den Schein unsrer Sonnfeuer dringt,
Und spät ward ein Name uns Makel und Lohn,
Doch schon unser Werden war immer Passion.

Der Limes der Römer durchschnitt unser Land,
Der West und der Süd ging dem Feinde zur Hand
Und kaufte von Freien mit gutem Gewinn
Den Bernstein und mancherlei Hausrat aus Zinn,
Doch auch die Gezähmten im römischen Staat,
Sie sannen auf Abfall und schnöden Verrat,
Erwacht im Cherusker der alte Teuton,
Wird Varus das Opfer der deutschen Passion.

Wer Grauen nicht meidet, dem stehts zu gebot,
Ist Tod nicht mehr Leiden, wird Leidenschaft Tod,
Wer nah bleibt dem Quell, der das Leben gebiert,
Lacht über den Gecken, der schamvoll sich ziert,
Barbar, was als Schimpf und Verachtung gedacht,
Entpuppte sich rasch als geschichtliche Macht,
Und bald wird Byzanz seine Heldenlegion
Erkennen in Stämmen der deutschen Passion.

Die Inbrunst, die nach dem Erlöser sich sehnt,
Erstickten die Pfaffen und drückender Zehnt,
Wer frei ist, der duldet nicht Steuer und Zoll,
Stößt Schranzen aus Fenstern und zeigt seinen Groll
Mit Waffen, die bar aller Zierde und Weih
Der ländliche Alltag ihm steuert herbei,
Und hilft gegen Plündrer nur Reformation,
Erfährt auch Herr Tetzel die deutsche Passion.

Wir sind in die Mitte Europas gestellt,
Wir einen das Kleine der Größe der Welt,
Das göttliche Recht, im Gemächte des Manns
Verbürgt, macht uns einig und fruchtbar und ganz,
Von Welschen und Schweden zur Walstatt erkorn,
Hat Deutschland ein ganzes Jahrhundert verlorn,
Doch ziehn die Besatzer mit Flüchen und Drohn,
So bleibt doch das Deutschsein für immer Passion.

Denn ernst nimmt der Deutsche die Liebe, den Streit,
Den Glauben, das Recht und Gerechtigkeit,
Er duldet nicht Phrase, Theater, Zierrat,
Er fordert die Treue, die Ehre, die Tat,
Er haßt eine Ordnung, bequem und korrupt,
Sie gilt ihm als Teufel und Drache, beschuppt,
Bis Siegfried, Sieglindes erbsündiger Sohn,
Das Untier läßt spüren die deutsche Passion.

In Frankreich verspielte der König den Kopf,
Als Freigeisterei als gefährlicher Kropf
Sich auswuchs, wo Spiel und der Unernst am Hof
In Albernheit prunkte, für keine zu doof,
Der Mühe abhold und im Fordern sich keck
Erhebend, erfand ein Regime seinen Zweck,
Doch fand hier auch mancher begeisterter Ton,
Verharrten die Deutschen doch in der Passion.

Da reiner Verbrauch an die Endlichkeit stößt,
So wurden als nächstes die Nachbarn erlöst.
Dem Reich, das von Rom einst den heiligen Stab
Forttrug, gab der Korse ein ruhmloses Grab,
Bis endlich die Preußen und Bismarck gewitzt
Ertrotzten, daß Deutschmann im Vaterland sitzt,
Und Türme und Male, gehuldigt dem Thron,
Erschienen als Zeugen der deutschen Passion.

Die deutschen Erfolge, die Flotte, das Heer,
Ertrugen die Angeln nur knirschend und schwer,
Sie schufen Allianzen, zu stoppen den Fleiß
Des Deutschen, der ärgerlich viel kann und weiß,
Sie forschten nach Schwächen in Reiches Gebälk,
Sie stützten, was brachliegt, was morsch ist und welk,
Bis Kriegslust Europa berauschte wie Mohn,
Für Deutschland der Weg in die ärgste Passion.

Denn nicht nur versagt blieb dem Reiche der Sieg,
Der Frieden ward schlimmer als jeglicher Krieg,
Im Osten zerstückelt, im Westen besetzt,
Ein Staat ohne Würde und Hunger zuletzt,
Ein Mann und ein indisches Lebenssymbol,
Sie stiegen und wurden der Deutschen Idol,
Was diese versprachen, als hätten sies schon,
So träumten die Deutschen in ihrer Passion.

Doch tiefer nur noch als beim ersten Mal fällt
Der Deutsche im Wahne, den Haß aus der Welt
Mit Waffen zu kehrn, mit Gefolgschaft allein,
Als könne der Führer der Gottessohn sein,
Und Kleinmut besetzt, was der Größenwahn ließ,
Und Deutscher ist nun, wer Zerknirschung bewies,
Den Deutschen ist Deutsches nun Abscheu und Hohn,
Sie spotten ihr Dasein und ihre Passion.

Wie lang soll das gehn? fragt sich mancher und glaubt
Man hätt den Verstand allen Deutschen geraubt,
Doch sammeln sich fern vom Getön der Parteien
Geächtete, reif, wieder Deutsche zu sein.
Sie rüsten sich, wecken den Kaiser im Kyff,
Der tiefer als Spätre nach Heiligkeit griff,
Die Pfalzen vereinte im Burg-Oktagon
Als Walstatt des Geistes und deutscher Passion.
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Her voice was a hushed leaf-
it bent in the breeze and only carried
to those who chose to hear.
"Flowers are a lot like us."
She whispered to the wind-
"The spout different shades and hues
from rosy pinks to springtime blues.
Some bloom early and some come late,
and every blossom has a seperate fate.
Some are big and some stay small,
but that's no reason not to love them all.
They can be round, pointed, or bent a bit,
and each has a certain uniqueness to it.
Every flower bends different to the wind,
some stand tall and some give in.
But you see, flowers are a lot like us.
Regardless of shape, size, color, or strength,
every flower blossoms beautifully-
as long as no one cuts it down
before it gets the chance."
#31 of the 100 theme challenge.
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It was dark out, around midnight, possibly later. His darker twin slept in the bed across from his. They used to share a bed, but things stared getting too violent with Dark in the same bed.

The blonde still had claw marks where they should never be. He really did wonder what the darker one dreamed about?

He wasn't in bed like he was supposed to be. He was sitting on the windowsill looking at the full moon. How he wished he was at his home staring at the night sky. But no...

He was the only human left. Everyone else was a demon and a man too. He would never live his dream of having a child, or a wife, or a family. But according to Ghirahim, they were his family.

He clenched his fists. He wanted to go home. There were countless nights he wished he would wake up to Zelda's calm soothing voice. He itched his arm just above where the cut out of the first diamond was on his glove.

His skintight clothing was really bothering him lately, (Possibly because he spent more time with it off then on,) and he was tired of wearing it. The outfit showed every curve on his body and that only seemed to make the demons want him more. At least he wasn't the only one required to wear it.

From his first days of slavery, Ghirahim explained that either he would wear the black clothing, or he could walk around nude. Either way was quite all right to them. Link chose the clothing of course.

Though he couldn't really complain.

Besides the sleepless nights, lack of education, and outfit, life was amazing. The constant pleasure had become so addicting. Him and his darker half loved to experiment with different things they could find around the castle grounds, from feathers from a bird, to smooth carved pieces of wood.

Yes, they messed around with anything they could find when they were bored. Though they were careful not to have their masters know they were doing activities without them.

He wondered where Fi was though. His sword spirit who addressed him as "master" was a great companion. And some days when e felt as if he couldn't go any further, Fi would urge him to go on. He was brave, and strong and-

He failed. He witnessed the goddess's soul being eaten by the Demon King. A tear slid from his crystal blue eye and down his cheek where it hit his leg. He didn't cry often because if he did, he was mocked and laughed at.

He let the demons get to him, he was like a Keese stuck in a Skulltula's web. He wasn't going anywhere. Where would he go? Sure, the gate of time was still there for Ghirahim's reasons, and though Impa was dead, the old Zelda was still in that orange crystal of that time, but what would he do?

The only reason she was left alone was because if she was killed in the past, Demise would've never risen meaning, he never would've had to exist!

"Why are you awake? And especially at this hour?" His dark twin's voice startled him.

"Lost in thought." The teen replied wiping the tears from his eyes. A frozen pale hand rested on his shoulder making him jump.

"What's on your mind hero?" Dark mocked.

"The past." Link replied looking to his hands.

"Aww, does someone need a hug?" Yes. But not from Dark, from Zelda.

"If you're plan is to mock me don't waste your so needed breath." Link bit out bitterly.

"I'm only playing!" Dark chuckled like that excused anything. "Why don't you allow me to make your mind go blank? I'll let your body have the relaxation it craves." Dark whispered lustfully into the boy's pointed ear.

Link sighed. Dark's tone of voice meant he was going to have sex no matter what. Turning around Link sighed.

"My options?" Link asked.

"Well, if you get bored, fake it." Dark's fangs gleamed into the night sky, his white teeth reflecting the light of the moon. "Just hold back that voice of yours this time. I'm not getting caught again." Dark hissed biting Link's ear playfully.

~~~~~~~

It was past six in the morning, and Link and Dark where no where in sight! Ghirahim smoothed his hair out and opened the door to their room where he saw the two identical boys passed out.

They were only decent because of the blanket covering their lower halves, other than that, black clothing was randomly hanging off of things around the room. A glove on the door knob, a pair of shorts hanging off of the head board on Dark's bed, two socks on the windowsill, and more.

It was cute how Dark was laying on top of Link with a satisfied look on his relaxed face. Link on the other hand had new bruises and scratches and bite marks. Ghirahim did admit that Dark was more violent than Demise would ever be with his boys.

Ghirahim smiled with a gleam in his eye. The two boys were in trouble and they probably knew it.

"Oh, wait until master hears about this..." Ghirahim chuckled before walking back to the throne room. Today may not be so boring after all.
Maybe this will become a multiple chapter thing. Maybe not.

Thoughts?

Clothes belong to Yueki.
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Wet roses, sick with heavy rain,
Left from last night's slumber,
Smoking the breath of new days.

Swirling crimson sun, turning
Clouds kaleidoscopic in
Burning, dark rhythm.

Let the dew drip full of weight.
A whole morning magnified,
Inverted through liquid orb.

Solidify fiery decay.
Capture the meaning absorbed
Within chaos and abstraction.

In a glistening pool of water.
Lake akin to the forest fire,
Stiller, staying lower,

Ripples investing height
Upon the next day's shower.  
Woah. Totally blown away by the reception this has got. Thank you all so much for your time for reading this and to all of those who favorited, for my sake of course, I'm really glad you liked it. After following critique from those kind people within the elite literature group, I've decided to reduce words and multiply meaning within my poems. It seems that this is the way forward and it does feel much better writing this way too. Really enjoyed making this one and the reception I've recieved has made me feel incredible and happy to write. Thanks to you all, this day has blown me away - the views and favorites. I will continue in this new style and see where it takes me. Thanks all!
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You used to be alive to me. Once upon a time your skin was warm and touchable. When I held you I used to be able to feel your heart beating in your chest. Now – if I dare to touch your rigid body – there is nothing but stony skin to brush against mine. I gave up on you.
         Recollections of when we first met eat at the corners of my mind. You were as nervous as a caged dove, ashamed to fly, ashamed to sing to me, to kiss me.  The last time I kissed your lips they were cold and nearly lifeless. No, not nearly, I know that now. They were lifeless. There was nothing of you left. I ran to you too late. I couldn't save you.
        Your eyes are blank and staring. Not dreaming, not aspiring, not wanting, not giving. Just gone. Just nothing. Gazing forever at the black ground above you, the black ground weighing down on you. Six feet of lies and betrayal.
        I remember the day the banks burst. How the hate of your past had caught up with you. Slipping, you fell and were dragged under its surfaces. Hate consumed you. Hate drowned you in a way that icy liquid never could. Detest froze your soul and shattered it into a thousand dull pieces. And I can never have you back, though you walk and speak and occasionally grimace, you are not the person I fell in love with. Hate killed that person. Hate drowned that person.
       All I can hope is that one day you will surface, and cough up that vile emotion. I hope that one day, when I kiss you, I'll breathe some happiness and trust back into your soul. The kiss of life. Kiss of joy. Kiss of love. Because I'll never give up on trying to fix you and one day I intend to pull you from that grasping inky lake myself.
       One day you'll live again. One day the caged dove will sing.
Yah, Doves can't sing - they coo, I know :XD: bit sing sounds better.... ;)

My original idea was to protray how hate can drown a person as well as water. But I think that got lost somewhere along the way. Ah vell.

Sorry for the rubbishness, half way through I lost my brain.
hence the singing doves, I guess.
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I'm sorry for the excess of apologies
And for all the thoughts that I've indulged
For dealing with the summer full of insecurities
That I only half-divulged

It's not easy living as an irrational being
That's motivated by her fear
But I could stand the poison I feed myself
If it stayed out of your atmosphere

I'm just a little lost, and a little dazed
At having someone that finds me fit
I've never had something this remarkable before
But I doubt I could have held on to it

And though I continue to learn and grow
To the shadow of the girl you deserve
There's still that something deep within
Controlled by assumptions both grand and absurd

And if I seem afraid of losing you
It's not that I don't believe your words
It's because I don't trust myself to keep you,
As is the way with cowards

But even though I'm a living mess,
A bundle of chaos upon your life,
That doesn't change that as long as I'm yours
You will make me feel alright

I know you say you're nothing amazing
Well, darling, neither am I
Maybe the world needs too un-amazing people
To love each other for awhile

So even though I'm scared out of my mind
I'll stay right where you need me
Because if knowing you has been an indication
This is the happiest I'll ever be




These won't be the last crazy things I do
But now you have this to remember that I love you
Full title: Letters from an Insecure Girlfriend
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Do you remember that warm summer night?
When everything felt just right.
You said "I'll be your Romeo, if you'll be my Juliet."

But you thought I'd forget.

You stole my heart and took it away
But here I am, heart cold and grey
Forgive and forget is the lesson we learn

But why not make them burn?

I took your promise to the grave
No matter how much you plead and beg
It's your time to say goodbye

But you won't be resting in the sky.

No, You won't forsake me again
Bound by more than a ball and chain
This is your eternity to savor

But, at least, we'll be together forever.
Nothing really to say here. Poem speaks for itself.

Please don't repost/claim/copy ANY of my work. These poems mean a lot to me, so keep your greedy little paws off. Thank You.
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I'm lonely.
Love me?

My bed is empty.
Fill it?

My heart is broken.
Fix it?

My life is shattered.
Help me?

My will is broken.
Pick me up?

I'm so lonely; please, love me?
Because I love you...
Omgosh, I never knew this would get so popular! I'm counting this blessing as I speak! I would personally love to thank every single one of you for supporting me and for like this and for everything...

Esp. my make shift Mum, my best friends and for a heartbreak that is only a week old :)
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You told me not to go out at night,
Because of the mangled corpse dumped at our neighbor's house.

But you know me,
And the crazy lurking behind these eyes.
You know I can't live without a little rebellion.

So build me a bonfire to dance around,
And I'll scream at the sky, crush stars beneath my feet.
Stack the branches high, let me climb to the top
And drop the match from hands soaked in gasoline.

You thought the purple haze was just a notion
In a dream-addled brain, nothing for the sane person to bother with,
And you were right!
So what does that say about us?
We lost the world before we found ourselves. (We just had to lose it all.)

It's not that we're losers ourselves;
We'll gladly tear the guts out of those who would subdue us!
It's that this world isn't ours, never was, isn't good enough.
It's that we're always out for more, ripping chunks from the universe
With teeth sharpened on a lack of remorse.
We'll ring our eyes in ash and scare the complacent from their beds.

We'll call ourselves "monsters" and learn to cut with our words,
Burn ourselves clean of fear and anger and pain.
We'll become furies and take revenge on sorrow!
I'm sick of doing what I'm told –
Build me a bonfire and we'll burn this world to the ground,
And forge a new one from the glowing embers –
With our own two bloody hands!
My friend read this and immediately went "somebody wants a bonfire..."

Who DOESN'T want a bonfire? AHAHAHAA, LET THE CRAZIES OUT!

*ahem* Anyway. This one's pretty straightforward. Don't you ever just get tired as fucking hell of doing what you're told? Don't you ever look at the way society wants you to be and say "I won't be this way. It's not worth it"? It's like all anyone wants is to be angry because they're all in so much pain, and society says "that's okay! Be angry and vengeful all your life! That's human!"

If it is just "human", then that's not good enough, damn it. Rip the scars off your skin and be new. Be who YOU are, not who they want you to be.

The part about the body dumped down the road from our house is true, although it happened several years ago and we haven't had a similar incident since. I don't think the victim was ever identified, either. The entire thing is pretty sad, but it does make an interesting story to tell on Halloween.
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