.You can bring a horse to water but you can't make it holdMore Like This
its nose to the grindstone and hunt with the hounds.
Every dog has a stitch in time. Two heads? You've been sold
one good turn. One good turn deserves a bird in the hand.
A bird in the hand is better than no bread.
To have your cake is to pay Paul.
Make hay while you can still hit the nail on the head.
For want of a nail the sky might fall.
People in glass houses can't see the wood
for the new broom. Rome wasn't built between two stools.
Empty vessels wait for no man.
A hair of the dog is a friend indeed.
There's no fool like the fool
who's shot his bolt. There's no smoke after the horse is gone.
-symposium, paul muldoon
Simple ThingI’d like to be an off-beatMore Like This
syncopated little thing;
note and stem floating on the melody, just sitting in
appoggiatura, grace-note, special thing.
I’d like to be a sailor
swinging on the ocean wind
coarse old rope between my hands and salt-spray where my toes begin
nimble little sailor, clever thing.
I’d like to be a bed-sheet
gentle thing to warm your skin
thing that you hug tighter when the morning starts to filter in
falling through your creases, lucky thing.
Where I'm FromI'm from a herd of bullsMore Like This
Strong and fierce and meant to last
From loyalty to spirit
To red, white, and black
I'm from the strong bond we hold
One that can never break
From the trust and friendship we share
To our pride that could split a hair
I'm from a drive by, drive through
No name street
From fallen trees to broken power lines
This is what I call home
I'm from the dead-end
That serves no purpose
From the mailboxes in need of repairs
To a family who cares
I'm from the blood and sweat
Of hard work and heartbreak
From "How was your day?"
To "Don't talk to me."
I'm from a puzzle that doesn't go together
To something that fits so perfectly
From confusion, hatred, and lies
To comfort, love and home (which may seem like a surprise)
I'm from a herd
A break in the trees
And the love I hold so dear
From colors and fallen trees
To something bigger than you or me
I'm from love and dedication
That will never fade
Not now, not ever, because this is what I made
Sign LanguageAnd as I sit on my old and squeaky bed,More Like This
wrapped in thick blankets to keep hidden from the cold morning air,
I open my book and begin to learn
how to speak with my hands,
and say what I have been hoping to tell you since
I first became your friend.
I learn how to make phrases in hope that
I might be able to tell you
just how much you mean to me
and how you are one of my
Absolute TruthYour truth tries to sparkle,More Like This
cliche-flowery language wilting beneath my all-American, bold-face style.
I’ll give you the gospel and a glass of something strong.
My Truth is jagged, ugly and completely worthwhile.
Your higher education is moot,
The words that you studied flawed.
I’ll give you props for your stellar mustache
But your gross overuse of aphorisms should be out-lawed.
I’m not an enemy of truth,
I’m a drunken Gonzo journalist, forever!
I was in awe of your madness.
Until I found out it was from syphilis, playa.
Guess you didn’t study that disease.
Guess you didn’t need that information.
The nitty-gritty truth comes in all forms.
Had you never considered masturbation?
I learned to rebel with drugs and Hell’s Angels.
I went a little mad in my youth.
I wrote of what I saw in this twisted world.
A raconteur of absolute truth.
O Starry Skies!O Starry skies across the night,More Like This
I'll ask you a question tonight:
Of all that's splendorous and bright,
What truly reaches insanity?
Is it the albatross, with gaily wings?
Is it thunderclouds, with the rain it brings?
Is it the cricket, with the song it sings?
Oh I shall never know, I shall never know.
My life's horizon is clouded and dim;
My life's laughter is mournfully grim;
And every breath and sound, a deadly hymn;
For what was alive, is singing its lament.
Ennui, Ennui, all around,
Sucks the water off the ground,
Diminishes the great sound,
a whirlwind stripped of creativity.
The straight ditches that we have cut,
are sharp, painful, glorious but;
are still walls for a timid brook,
which fills itself up, and drowns a book.
That's why I come to you tonight,
longingly, with a dreadful light!
May your darkness fill me uptight
with one dazzling speck of madness!
For what is left to who is dead?
Maybe worms, and block of lead,
Drowning in rigid black ponds instead
of black ink-k
this way you wouldn't have to screamframing this is like cutting up the stripsMore Like This
of her shredded shirt, and
"this isn't blood," she would say
even though he's pretty sure
(take your time at the station crossing,
bird wings soaring against gravity,
owing the Earth everything for flight,
but corduroy suns aren't warm enough,
and mis-named chords are breathing down his neck,
directly: fading at the hands of paper and ink
"this isn't blood" he says
even though she's pretty sure
Face Your Monster Contest! TweetMore Like This
Monster Mask by $kozispoon
Artwork by $dxd
Monster Mask by $damphyr
Halloween is just around the corner and many deviants are already preparing costumes, pumpkins, and decorations. But our favorite spooktacular holiday just wouldn't be complete without gruesome ghouls and dastardly demons. Are you ready to Face Your Monster?!
Inspired by `manic-cure's recent community project, we're challenging you to make your face into a monster.
Read Official Rules »
Using traditional art materials, turn your face into a monster. Take a
picture of your face and upload to the contest gallery.
Take a photograph of your fac
pffAlright there was no point in me trying to stay away. lDMore Like This
deviantart is my home page and I always click the quick link on my bar.
Anyways, everything pretty much stopped with my last journal.
And i'd like to thank you guys for all the nice comments. ;v;
It really made me feel better.