You are Beautiful"Mirrors are fickle,More Like This
a play of light and shadow.
The only true mirror is within yourself.
Clear your mind of doubt and prejudice,
and you will see yourself as
God sees you - beautiful."
What is DeviantArt? Part 1More Like This
Although it’s getting rarer these days, I sometimes come across people who ask me what exactly “DeviantArt” means. Before I begin to explain all the amazing things our community has to offer, they sometimes look at me sideways and say, "Deviant, eh? One of those websites..."
Most marketing experts would never name a site "DeviantArt," because the word "deviant" has multiple meanings that can be interpreted in different — not always positive — ways. Yet we are the greatest, most diverse art community in existence. Few branding agencies would ever make DeviantArt its infamous green/gray color. Yet we love it, and have become known for it.
Where else can you stunning fan artists alongside the best nature photographers in the world? Or top comic book artists alongside the most talented storytellers of our generation? We are DeviantArt, the wild card of the Internet, th
Diving into Simplicity"Life is complicated": don't we seem to hear this a lot in our daily routines.More Like This
You don't try to align yourself with the universe, naturally this should happen. If you always find yourself in a complicated life situation, making it seem that your life is foul of complications all the time, it's because you are in the complications itself, but if you dive into the simplicity then things would be simple. It's not about trying, its about how letting it naturally happen, letting go of the resistance against this very moment
You just have to see where you are at this moment and ask yourself, are things difficult to you all the time? Why? For instants if you "try" to be good, then at one point or another you will find some sort of resistance, and this becomes tiring, until you explode and find yourself where you began, unbalanced, because it is false, because it didn't naturally happen. You have to be honest to yourself. Depending on you, unless you are in the goodness, and only this wa
KarmaKarma, reflections of your own actions and reactions tords the happening, the present moment..✿More Like This
Going ThroughNow there is no rush,More Like This
We are starting to see.
Mistakes might come
And bring down dark clouds
That'll storm through you.
It might hurt a little,
Just let the pain go through.
And the joy starts streaming
Closing TimeAlive sensations around surrounding temptationsMore Like This
breezing silently underneath attached masks
turning these black sights into golden skies
no longer holding tightly fragments of time
relinquishing spontaneously what use to be declined
running freely outside as the silent breeze inside
realizing glorious sensations that lastingly lie
and here we die as the beauty is revealed
we stand lively eternally as we recognize life
feeling nothing but truth just by closing time
The Magic LakeCome to the magic lakeMore Like This
Forsaken to those who
Prolonging the existence of the day
While the last rays of light shines into
The magic lake, such a silent place..
RopeHe studied the body on the table,More Like This
how the hair grew clockwise
and tried to guess her name.
Maybe Linda, like his sister -
still in school and studying
how men dealt
with the end of the world.
demure with eyes
that never gazed past her yard
or guessed how much
the sun weighed.
Or Saroya, as exotic
as the indigo blouse
open and gasping at the ceiling.
There is no life
at the end of the rope
his hands deftly rearranging
the color of her cheeks
into something almost living.
Just guess work and apologies
and too many hours
left for someone else
to clear away.
Girl as Buildingi fell in love with your architectureMore Like This
the cross beams of your cartilage
how your tendons knotted over nerves
like girders, holding up your arms
and the supple curve of neck
a room unto itself
the doors and windows of you
and each brick a voice
that resonates my mortar
the simple stairs of your legs
leading me skyward
where shoulders meet like corridors
and I find myself
taking up residence.
PirateHe wanted to be a pirate -More Like This
a rogue of waves and plankton
and teakwood decks
that smarted under the sharp rap
of stars streaming off the bow.
He longed to feel rum
cut the back of his throat
and hoist the skull and crossbones
over a ship so far gone
the horizon would never find it.
He wanted to chart winds
that warmed the equator
and let the anchor
carry off the ballast
in the boatswain's burly arms;
to watch gold
cover his hands to the elbows
and sink his lash
into the belly of the storm.
And know the beauty of his enemy
come calling late at night.
Letter to a PoetDear Sir/Madam,More Like This
It has come to our attention
this is the twenty-third rejection
of work you have submitted to our site.
We don't wish to be alarming
and we hope this sounds disarming,
but your use of metaphor is somewhat trite.
We somewhat like the concept
(the execution is inept)
besides, your work just does not meet our theme.
You need to have more adjectives
and words like gloam and mucilage,
and phrases that go along in kind.
Please keep the imagery obscure -
the reader never should be sure
just what it is the author has in mind.
Pick a structure we all can stand -
we find your rhythm rather bland
and no deep meaning can the reader find.
So in short, we will be leaving -
please consider basket weaving
or perhaps take up bowling as a sport.
Or perhaps try stamp collecting
for your work we are rejecting.
Poetry should be your last resort...
heronheron napping on the lakeMore Like This
as tourists wield
their oars and cameras
(a perfect catch of wing span
for the family to exclaim about
at Sunday dinner)
its delicate bone dance
drowns out the cerulean
in our ears -
birth of moon and stars
invisible to the ripple
lapping sand and silt -
just the thin scream
of winter fleeing