Cave FishCave Fish13 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Once I swam, weightless,
In a red-gold sea both vast and small
A sightless cave fish tethered
Light and dark, both were warmth to me.
Once I swam, kicked, spasmed,
A sound like waves, two heartbeats colliding,
And then an inexorable tide pulled me under,
Drew me out, and I began to scream.
My tether cut, my memories poured out
I forgot in the fear of being cold and alone
For the first time.
I forgot and breathed and slept and dreamed,
A translucent veined cavernous sky,
Of liquid breath and lost gravity,
Lost every morning as I woke.
Until one day as I opened my eyes
Morning sun washed the walls of my room,
And I lay there curled around a secret cavern
A Capricorn's dream carried in water.
A tiny earthquake, and blood poured out,
A long slow agonizing geyser, warm and dark,
A first and last time.
I woke and touched my skin, and cried,
The cave fish is gone.
The sunless sea is empty.
leavingleaving11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I made him laugh, then tears came
I think I have seen them there before
I just cant place a certain time
It looked so wrong to see him cry.
He said my antics were so "like you"
He giggled at my full hands and my chatter
My bright voice, pushing happiness in sickness.
I wont put the burden of my worry on him
And then he cried. His shoulders shook, but there was no sound.
There were only the tears that I'm sure I dont know.
He is strong. He never cries...no.
So I'm sure that they're something new.
"I love you" he gasped
No air for talking and crying at one time.
"I'm sorry for breaking down baby."
"I haven't until just this moment"
He looked at me, with appology.
Isn't a Father superhuman?
I held on to my own tears.
A daughter should be too.
It isn't just the physical pain
Nor only not being able to breath
And it is scary to know you'll die.
But these things didn't bring tears....
His eyes met mine again.
His voice was only a whisper.
There was however hard determination in his face.
Sgt. DivineSgt. Divine10 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
A few of the men say this used to be a church, but it's hard to tell anything in this storm. We are pinned under a black and violent sky that has held us inside this crumbling room since we arrived yesterday morning. The water slides along the cracked ceiling and bombards us from different spots.
Captain tells us to keep our weapons dry, but he knows it's impossible. The floor clutches our boots with three inches of sucking wet mud. If the wind ever dies down we'll have a better look around this old place, but for now we just listen as it batters the trees into the stone.
None of us know how long we have to wait here. Captain says we are to protect this structure so our side can launch rockets from it if the war ever begins. Barnes says there isn't going to be a war. He says neither side is willing to start it; but here we are, drenched and freezing, just in case.
In the brief moments when the wind and rain pause we can hear the water trickling down through
Chronicles of PainChronicles of Pain10 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Whispers breached the carefree mood in the corridor when the boy entered. "Outcast," they taunted. "Insane," they hurled. The boy walked straight, feigning deaf. Though his ears were brimming with the insults, it was easier this way. His footsteps were carefully measured, every step landing with a distinct thud that seemed to echo through the hall. His eyes crept over every crack of the luminescent floor, carefully studying the erratic specks of colors. He recognized every single speck, every tiny crack. He went through this every morning, for his social exile was daily.
His thoughts crept slowly back to his childhood. Even as a toddler he had been strange. While most children were playing carelessly in the sandbox, he was slinking back into the shadows, desperately praying to go unnoticed. He longed for normal memories for his only memories were of books and imaginary friends.
The most prominent was that of a girlfriend, a new girl to town. She had been drawn in
Soul Next DoorAll is quietSoul Next Door12 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
On this beautiful night.
All is dark
Except for one light.
A single light
Next door to me.
A single light
And one soul, not free.
Shadowed in the light.
Crying in the night.
Broken and caged.
Whose life is staged.
This soul will forever be.
It's never been free.
The soul looks up
And sees my gaze.
The soul looks up
For the first time in days.
This souls true self will always be.
Yet next door to me.
The ForestThe ForestThe Forest6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
On a cold evening in winter, snow fell from the skycaressed the earth with a glow that seemed to come from angels. It tongued whispered songs in a language too ancient to understand. The frost had settled into the place, and it had begun to move its hard bristles over the dry landscape.
This is how it began.
I was cold. Terribly cold. My hands were red and numb, and skin flaked from my shaking fingers before, at last, I shoved them deep into my pockets. I wrapped narrow fingers around a cracked compassmy last remaining tether to a recognizable world.
I dont recall much of this time outside the forest well enough to say what exactly I was thinking about. I really cant recall why I was out there at all. But with or without knowing the reason, there I was amidst angels at the mouth of the forest. With each gust of wind, the trees moved and danced with the breez
CokeCoke11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Still noon in the paddy fields
in Kerala, we sank a well
to stem the flow of desert,
but came up smelling of dust.
Watched rice plants wither as the slow sun
silenced resolve in angry glare,
and warm dry gusts scattered
hope to the four corners.
In Palakkad, an empty street, sold
to ten million-dollar-a-day death,
men nurse wounds and children.
The women have gone to find water-
when the supply runs altogether dry,
we may find out how to swallow
the dust. Or our pride. Lesson taught,
we shall learn to drink coke.
Still noon in the baking heat
within the walled compound, we
stand around on wounded feet
spreading slurry on the ground.
So here, at least, is water
(to dampen a capital purse)
So here we earn our living -
a litre a day (could be worse).
Outside, the world is barren,
the earth is cracked and bare.
As boreholes tap our reservoirs
at last we've learnt to share.
So desert soil is progress,
and bitter stench is joy.
Infected feet dance to the beat
of the jin
exclaimah!exclaim11 years ago in Typographical More Like This
the pound and the thud and the gasp
and the italian gesture
(! - !) verbose
physical - !
of clenched fists and swooping arms
-but this is
the sun !-gloriously! climaxes over the trees
the silent !-scream! of eyes
as they !-beam! and !-shine!
and - !
just - !
isn't it wonderful!
overriding any question
-a state of ecstasy confined to a mere dash and dot
it just is
a jump a dance a song
(the prelude to a smile)
it is the peak!
and the climax!
and !~vibrance!~ herself
but is also an acknowledgement
(in its silence)
of the silence
but that is tomorrow
ThoughtsThoughts13 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
In the months that I've spent on deviantART, I've met numerous people of all ages and from all walks of life, joined together as a community by a single entity: the love of and for art. It didn't matter whether one was into poetry, wallpapers, 3D abstract images, prose, indyart or freehand; what mattered was the love shared for works that spilled forth from heart, soul and mind.
Many times have I sat in front of my computer screen and cried for no other reason except for the fact that I was, clichéd as it may sound, moved to tears. Some works I understood more than others, and this was because deviantART not only allowed us to share our works: it let us interact, meet, greet and debate at large whatever the topics may be. The community that existed here was a step above others, because it was not based purely on interaction or art alone; both elements combined gave an even more honest view into an individual's soul and personality, and with that, knowing a person made their works conta
My testimony of Jesus ChristMy testimony of Jesus Christ4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I know that many people doesn't believe in God, nor in Jesus Christ the God's lamb. You might not believe in what I'm going to write about, but I'm not writing to convince you but to share my testimony of the Lord. It is up to you to choose whether to believe in it or not.
Since I was little, I was a rebellious child. I enjoyed teasing my classmates, I even laughed along with my classmates at my best friend, I lied, stole things, all and all hideous stuffs that a bad kid would do. When I grew up to be a teenager, I was no better than when I was a kid. My temper got shorter and shorter as I spend my terrible years of highschool. I've been through a lot of horrible stuffs that I prefer not to talk about.
But somehow I did have hope in God, I always knew that someone who is very powerful controlling everything we do and anything that happens to us. I started to know about Jesus Christ when I came to Russia. I remember once, I watched a movie that was portraying the Passion of Christ. At t
Rip You ApartRip You Apart11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I will rip you apart
I'll pull out all your pain
I'll cut out your heart
And I'll do it again
'cause I love to watch you
Hurt and cry
Can I kill you eight times
Before you finally die?
'Cause you remind me
Of a worm
While you squirm
Not so beautiful
Like a butterfly
Who when killed once
Will fall and die
But you stay here
Through all the pain
You were happy
Before I came
I will rip you apart from the inside out
I will take all of your pride
I will lie to you to get your trust
And I'll slowly eat you alive
I'll drive you past insane
I'll make you go mad
And I'll cut your weak wrists
like you should have
I'll hit that vein
with this knife
I'll kill your brain
And I'll end your life
I'll rip you apart
I'll pull out all your pain
I'll cut out your heart
And I'll do it again
'cause you deserve this
More than me
After all, this is
Who you used to be
asea, tonightasea, tonight10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I'm at your door; can hear the brass and bass,
the snare drum, through the glass. It's jazz, tonight.
You let me in and suddenly I'm in
a room of profound poets, who sing their verse
through shining horns, sweet saxophone riffs.
The solos drift so richly, dance among smoke rings—
tonight, when everyone's somebody's cool cat.
There's a girl whose trumpet weeps when she woos its keys,
those wailing notes like Miles would have played.
And the long-haired bassist pains his face as he plucks
away at the tired shape the body makes,
he sways. And when the guitar's clean strings do sing,
it's melody carries a twang so sweet—it's jazz,
tonight. Tonight!— We can be alive, tonight.
And I'm in the corner, no horn in hand, not even
a cigarette for now. I'm just a shadow this evening,
no harmony for me. Just silent taps
of thumbs on thighs; of a breath before sirens sing.
Tonight, blue tunes knew the way through a smoky
sea—found me… Last I heard they were still awaiting
life isn't fairlife isn't fair11 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Sometimes I feel
As though I'm dead
I can't do anything
I've reached an end
People hate me
No matter what I do
I don't want to live
My life is crud
Try being me
See how long you last
Think it's easy?
Kiss my ass
Course it's not
Don't be dumb
My life is sad
Never any fun
So leave me here
To rot and die
Happiness is hard to find
It can't be bought
Let me die in peace
No one to care
I don't want to live
Life isn't fair.
Coffee MugsCoffee Mugs11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's a man's world,
you can tell
from the dirty coffee mugs,
huddled together on the table.
The lone water bottle stands above them,
imposing, clear and tall, as its owner,
Her pregnant belly precedes her like a shield:
a neon sign flashing "here I am".
In the elevator, two people dare a smile
while they talk of things they know
no-one else cares about.
They wear glasses and awkward clothes.
In this place time hangs like tepid air,
which no fresh wind can ever disperse.
SanityI'm not crazy, butSanity6 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
People who claim sanity
Are somewhat insane.
All PowerAll Power3 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
C.S.Lewis once said, "You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body."
As all Christians believe, I believe every human being's soul is eternal. No matter what state your body is in, each human soul is priceless beyond measurement and cannot ever die.
It can, however, darken to the point of no return. Hell isn't a place where God sends bad people. Hell is simply the absence of God: He who is Love, Joy, Peace, Forgiveness, Righteous Passion, and all things good.
Hell is the rejection of God.
So what must heaven be?
I thank God for allowing me to have my illness. If He hadn't, how could I have truly understood the difference between the body and soul? How could I have understood the importance of reaching for Him and allowing Him to purify my eternal soul before reaching for worldy pleasure?
How could I ever feel or understand true joy, if I had never suffered?