AloneAlone15 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to what was
what might have been
and now I see
what was once unseen
left to dwell in emotions deep
what was reality
a lost fantasy
Sleep, Only to be woken
Run, Only to be caught
Scream, Only to be unheard
Escape to the darkness
Into the unknown
What was to be
No longer will
All is lost
In spite of me
To what was
What might have been
But now I see
What once was unseen
Sleep to be woken
Run to be caught
Scream to be unheard
Escape to the darkness
Into the unknown
Only to emerge in the light
To start again
True LoveI didn't know love until I met you.True Love14 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Nothing in my life had ever felt so true.
You were the reason I went day to day,
Washing all of my depression away.
I wish I could make everything all right,
Every second I think of that night.
The way you broke my heart with only few words.
Did more to me than being stabbed by a thousand swords.
I didn't know pain until I met you.
Even know, nothing has ever felt so true.
You used to be the reason I went day to day,
But now your make me wish I could fade away.
Angelo Sotira, InterviewedAngelo Sotira, Interviewed11 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
A brief history of deviantART
Angelo Sotira helped pioneer deviantART after the internet's "boom days" with Scott Jarkoff and Matt Stephens. Scott ensured that deviantART functioned code-wise and community-wise, Matt focused on making sure that the world knew about what promise deviantART offered to aspiring artists, and Angelo covered the legal and some techinical bases, including directing the business concerns of deviantART as a company.
As with any venture, there were the "usual" hiccups, though it's debatable whether anything about deviantART or how it came about can be considered "usual". The founders and the site weathered the storms that hit, and because of the initial and continued dedication of Scott and Angelo, along with the rest of the core developers and volunteer staff, deviantART continues to function, evolving continually to meet the demands of artists, exponential increases in deviations (and consequently necessary space) and operating costs, along with dozens
Letter Of RecommendationBefore you walk out, hear me out--Letter Of Recommendation4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Girl, there is no doubt
you're going long routes;
just recollect this future reference:
Hold up; hold it down--
Sugar rush in high heels
is not the only way out;
not what it's all about.
Let things run their course--
Walk in other people's shoes;
Take a stand, corrected.
Now, turn around--
Display every angle of this attire;
it suits you rather well.
Take a seat for this--
I could break it to you easy, but;
bliss is ignorance.
& whether life's weather foreshadows a breeze--
you're gonna fall hard, swept off your feet
to weak knees. It's not over; it's over
Before you dive in, test the waters--
Girl, he's still your Father,
you're gonna go farther;
just forget those past recollections.
CryingCrying10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Some people told me I shouldn't try
Because all you do is make me cry
But I love you to much to let you go
I love you more then you think you know
You tell me that you just don't care
All those times I needed you there
to hold me when i hurt real bad
to dry my tears, and take my sad
you can't understand how i feel inside
when it was over, I just died
All I want is for you to see
is what you really mean to me
Ever since that horrible day
that i heard those words you had to say
I can't stop thinking about you
I want you to know all this is true
Everything you've read
is about the things you've said
I'll never, ever stop tryin'
But I am so sick of Cryin'
MarylandWe aren't northern, we aren't southern:Maryland8 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
we're just chill.
We can catch, cook, and crack our own crabs
from our own bay.
We are in Maryland, the best state in the USA.
Which means we have..
skiing out west, farm country to the north,
the bay right in the middle, the ocean out to the east,
&& suburbs all over
Take. Your. Pick.
Senior week is not only in Ocean City:
it IS Ocean City.
(It's the drunkest month in America)
We can drink any city/state under the table.
(I.E. We have a better night life than you do!)
The best beer pong players
are all Maryland born and bred.
Here, flip cup is considered a Varsity sport.
Flip or get kicked off the table.
Baltimore has the highest murder rate in the nation.
Don't fuck with us, we'll kill you.
Our governor fights for our right to play slot machines,
`cause we like to gamble.
Towson, Canton, Fed Hill, Fells, Powerplant, and so much more!
So many choices.. so many beers..
again, the best night life
We can either
Just YesterdayJust Yesterday15 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Just yesterday you were holding my hand,
Just yesterday you gave me a wedding band,
Just yesterday you said I do and,
Just yesterday you said you loved me too.
Just yesterday you told me you cared,
Just yesterday you told me about the love we shared,
Just yesterday you said you'd never leave and,
Just yesterday that was all I needed to believe.
Just yesterday you were near,
Just yesterday they told me something I did'nt want to hear,
Just yesterday they buried you deep and,
Just yesterday thoughts of you kept me from sleep.
Just yesterday I finally came to see you,
Just yesterday I missed you more than I usually do and,
Just yesterday I remembered again how much I need you.
Just yesterday has come and gone and,
Just yesterday is just a memory of all that went wrong.
Not a PoetMy mind is all tied in knots.Not a Poet13 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Clouded, obscured, murky
Like a storm of rotting thoughts
The clarity is gone.
I tend to dwell now crablike in my head
Not nimbly flit from rock to shore
But just to wade slowly until the depths
Swallow me in silent coolness
When I think now of life and what it means
I thinků Fuck you too
If my soul had a shape right now
It would look a lot like my middle finger.
Snipe Hunting Chapter 2Chapter #2Snipe Hunting Chapter 27 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
Struggling to walk through the tangle of roots and leaves, we followed my dad through the woods. Tripping and stumbling we still managed to somehow continue banging the sticks together and scream as loud as possible, propelled foreward by the thought of seeing one of the mysterious snipes.
I turned towards Misty and whispered tentively, "Do you really think that we'll see one? I think he might be lying..."
She snorted,"Yeah, he's probably making this up."
"Should we stop?"
"Naw, let's go along with it."
and with that we stumbled off after the mad procession, unsure of what we would see that night...
EducationEducation?Education3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
See that's what they call it.
But they teach us to do, not to think.
A genius doesn't answer every question perfectly,
A genius questions every answer given.
A system that judges success by the amount of bills you have,
Makes you work to the bone,
Cuts your soul in halves,
Make us seem like a bunch of clones?
Are we nothing more than machines?
Fill in the right answer, nothing more is accepted.
Thrown away if you can't follow instructions,
Is this in efforts in increase production?
Shall we drive the passion away from everything?
When everyone tries only to survive,
Shall we exist solely to die?
A system that completely determines your life.
Wasn't this system meant for us to thrive?
Last Night's NightmareIt has been a whileLast Night's Nightmare10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
since I've seen Him,
since I have been with Him,
So long that it gave me nightmares.
I lay in bed
waiting to fall asleep,
for the next horrific dream.
I finally fall asleep.
Everything is black,
I'm in a great room.
There He is
standing in front of me,
as He is just as happy to see me
as I am to see Him.
I hold him close,
and kiss him.
Then I look up
to see a good witch
battling a demon.
The demon comes down to us,
the decomposing head of a beast,
and devours my love.
Then it stares at me
with its bloodstained mouth
as if it was about to do the same to me.
I woke up.
It was about four AM.
I lay in bed
dreading to sleep again.
There would be more nightmares.
Each would show me His demise.
I cry after an hour.
I fear it would be too long till I had Him.
There is only one cure:
To have Him and be satisfied.
Mother WolfMother WolfMother Wolf9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I am just like any other mother
I am concerned about my pup's future...
I want him to grow up to be just like his dad
~Fierce and full of fighting spirit and the elegance itself
I want him to have a normal life and be saved from tragedy...
I want him to be healthy
Chase rabbits with joy
Kill rabbits out of hunger...
Prawling around his first girl
I enjoy watching him grow up to be a strong wolf
I hope he will have alot of pups himself
Cause he is my only one....
I will protect him with my very own life...
A hunter shot my baby down...
Bear with it...
SnowMonths grouped together like careless footstepsSnow7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
stroll upon the lashings accorded to me by the sun.
In January I am caressed by ghosts
or something as cold and invisible.
They intrude upon hair, clothes; books
dampen with monstrous hand prints.
Are these shells of half-dead creatures
holding themselves, ancient in a cavern somewhere
or tethered to the earth by thought?
Bits of cloud, the flesh of heaven
picked off like a soft disease
nestle on my shoulder as if pulled from my sweater.
they emerge quietly like droplets of blood. Whisper:
we are the teeth of ancient things.
White drift presses upon the house
and the window. Its cool breath scales
my chin, pries open my mouth like a tenacious lover,
and settles with a small sigh on the tongue
like a hiss of steam.
We have made and unmade warmth.
Elphabas Fish 3 -- BlackElphabas Fish 3 -- Black13 years ago in Spiritual & Occult More Like This
My feet move on the snowy sidewalk, each one so heavy that
making the next step seems impossible every time. Breathing
takes effort, as the weight of thoughts and emotions sits on my
shoulders like a pair of murderous angel's clawed feet. How can
my chest expand to take in air? How can my feet lift from the
ground in any direction, when no destination convinces my soul it
is better than the last?
I've walked towards the manor forever. Thoughts? There
were some at first, but after a while even they flattened under
the burden of my desolation. The manor, bearing a striking
resemblance to Jack Nicholson's in "The Witches of Eastwick", has
danced at the end of this endless sidewalk since I started
towards it. At times, I doubted I could ever reach it, but
eventually my feet touch the stairs leading to the door. I
knock, and for the first time it occurs to me that there might be
The butler, a man who resembles Lurch (without the quirky
clothes or made
A Sence of LifeWhen I think, I've thoughtA Sence of Life5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And when I listen, I've herd
However when I see
Or have seen
For some reason, I can't
My image is obscured
My world seems unclear
I hunger for a transparent life
A taste of simplicity
To eliminate all that is abstract
And make it tangible
But as life takes its course
Uncontrolled and ungoverned
I bare both its odor and fragrance
And wade through the elusive waters
Continuing my journey
I always remember to
Think about what I've herd
And listen to what I've thought
Absolution.I lie awake tonightAbsolution.7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Slowly slipping into a subconscious state of mind,
Everything, it seems, is left behind
The passage of possibility is opened to me.
Gripped by the hand of existentialism,
I am pulled from reality into creations,
My mind is whirred, a fixation,
On the mysteries that lie ahead of me.
Thrown into a dark glade,
I am running so fast,
Escaping from my possible past,
This reality will surely be confused with normality.
Suddenly I am faced with my fears,
The colour of a corpse, the glint of a fang, a stench so bloody,
My head spinning, my shoes so muddy,
I can only assume they want the kiss of death.
Short of breath, they edge ever so closer,
As the hand removes me from my fabricated reality,
In the bed I once lied in hours before, vitality
Restored, but was it a dream? Or some strange sort of normality?