I love ParisEt retrouver le murmure de ParisMore Like This
Emue de sortilèges
Sous son manteau de lumière crue…
Station nulle part, un corbeau noir
Juché sur les toits de verre
Qui déploient leurs ailes transparentes
Sur les quais sinueux,
Nous regarde, moqueur.
Paris est une belle qui se raille,
Ses jupons rouges cachent cent vies,
Et sur ces trottoirs,
De laides bourgeoises,
Et des noirs fiers comme des paons
Croisent le chant des espagnols !
Paris et ses ivrognes qui dansent sous la lune
Quand le matin blêmit,
Paris qui s'abîme en Seine,
Lorsque la lune se pend
Aux réverbères scintillants,
Paris, où des sans âme
Où des sans toits dorment blottis
Sur le Boulmich dans des cabines
De téléphone où rien ne sonne…
Je vous l'assure,
Sa voix friponne, encanaillée
Et Suraiguë, ne ressemble à aucune autre
Et je sais la voix dense de ses quais enfiévrés
Où jamais l'été ne s'éteint tout à fait…
Paris, et moi, qui funambule,
Accrochée à ses basques
Comme à une courtisane
Dont je connais les fards,
Mais qui ne peut
You and your breakfastWhy are thereMore Like This
so many titleless poems
and no poemless titles?
Well, here's one.
On being insecure.I am very afraid of putting myself out there. This is the main reason behind all my procrastination. I always have being afraid to put myself out there.More Like This
It just seems a lot safer to stay in my own little world were every character knows me and loves me because I told them to. I don't really know why, but something just made me so afraid of people.
Maybe afraid isn't the right word. I'm really not "afraid" of anything. I'm insecure, doubtful. I second guess myself and all my choices in life and all the things I like and all the things I don't. I think about all those things at least five times before I press "send". I preview everything to make sure it is perfect. No typo allowed. No mistake can be made.
Well, if I make a mistake than people are a lot less likely to like me. Who likes flawed, failed, dumb, stupid humans? I mean, who likes real humans, right? Because we all have our flaws and we all make mistakes and nobody is born knowing anything so at some point you have to m
Prince!EnglandxPrincess!Reader: The Beast PrologueYou looked down from the highest tower in your castle. It seemed like everyone, even your servants, had at least one companion. At least one person with whom they could let their guard down. You however, you were above friends and silly companions. All that had been left behind the second you had used the spell that had turned you from an ugly human into a beautiful beast.More Like This
This is your story, one that tells of the impenetrable walls around your heart; you, the beast.
The Great Wyrm part 1(Warning-Violence)More Like This
"On your feet slaves!"
My eyes flew open as three plate armored guards barged into the rather cramped one room living quarters. They went about kicking anyone rather violently who might still be asleep; weather the slave was child or man. I quickly got off my sleeping mat as one of the guards approached me.
"I said get up!" screamed the guard as he landed a punch into my stomach. The force behind the punch combined with the plate gauntlets caused all my air to leave my lungs within seconds. I doubled over and fell back on the cold, stone floor; trying to stay conscious while my body desperately tried to refill my much oxygen deprived body.
Out of the corner of my vision another slave quickly walked up to me; I let out a smile of relief as I watched him approach. His name was Chadistan, unlike me he wasn't born into slavery under the tyrannical rule of Count Ilisuir; that's why he had a name. Slaves that were born into slavery were not given names; we were nothing but
All is Repitition and Vanity28 January 2005More Like This
This is a poem I wrote not because I was depressed but because my parents were studying
King Solomon in their bible class.
All Is Repetition and Vanity
Another day begins with the rising of the sun
She travels up, like an arrow from the bow been shun.
Then down, of course, it is gone, day is done
Once more the horrible repetition has spun
To the furious seas the raging river flows
Then up to blue heavens the water again goes
Then the grey sky, his dark cloud shows
Finally back to the streams, another cycle man knows
The wind goes from east to west forever on course
Never to any destination to arrive despite its force
Perpetually across grassy fields like a rampaging horse
One more monotony to hold us in remorse
When man is born first thing from the womb he cries
Then as from his childhood he comes hell rise
Hell grow another generation comes he sighs
Eternally doomed to death, he is old and finally dies
Beauty and the Beast Chapter 32More Like This
“I’m so sorry (Name) but I’m afraid you are not able to be coming with us.” Toris said with an apologetic look on his face. Meanwhile you had a disappointed look on your face.
“Why not?” you asked, thoroughly disappointed at this point. You had been looking forward to this for days and now he was telling you that you couldn’t go?!
“I asked Mr. Ivan if you could but he said you should stay here instead.” He said, placing a clean cup in the cupboard. You huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of your face. This was so unfair.
“Why wont he let me go?” you demanded, crossing your arms over your chest. Toris closed the cupboard and looked at you, a small sympathetic smile on his face.
“I know you’d rather go with us, but I have to obey Mr. Ivan’s order. As do you.” He said, enunciating the last three words. You huffed heavily again, tapping your fingers against your arm as you looked away from him.
How Not to Tell a StoryAfter being on DeviantArt for a few years now, I've noticed patterns in people's stories. Patterns, that I can't say I've ever seen until I started using the internet. I believe that's because these kind of patterns are thoroughly unprofessional. The pattern in short is this:More Like This
Character = victim
Plot = bad things happening to said victim
Maybe this sounds harsh. It's not if you understand that is ALL there is to these stories. They take any character, hurl them into a tragedy and that's it.
Let's get this straight: We do not know your character well enough to care about them yet. No matter how bloody and gutty their injuries are, no matter how many of their family members are deceased, no matter what their boyfriend did to them, no matter what kind of disease they have, WE. DO. NOT. CARE!!!!!
These kind of things are sad in themselves, but WHO is this person we're supposed to feel so horrible for? Establish THAT. It should be your absolute FIRST priority: no exceptions.
No more pasting