Rose Garden SanctuaryThere’s a place that I knew, long, long ago,
Where scarlet red roses were meant to grow.
The petals dancing, the buds held so high,
With a sense of passion that covered the sky.
This place is a garden, lively and dear,
And thorns that trickle and tickle out fear.
The sun shines, the day is lit, no heart is held fast,
The scarlet red roses are not meant to last.
The winter comes with a breath of cold chill,
With roses wilting so fragile and still.
A new world is made, a land full of frost,
The blooming red blossoms have now all been lost.
Yet, however, I hold open a flower, strong and upbeat,
Who has lived through this storm, who has conquered this feat.
With warm hands, the rose is held high,
With watery tears that make the rose cry.
The flower is here, the flower will pardon,
The dream I once had, of the scarlet rose garden.
A Rose by Any Other NameMore Like This
In a white hospital bed, pale as the lifeless bones of a decaying skeleton, with my flesh exposed through the backless dress of my hospital gown, I listen to nurses discuss my mental health. I can taste the quiet tap of a pen on paper and their tiny smiles of contempt.
Shame comes in waves. Its not like a scalpel or the cold touch of a surgeons hand. They never tell you that it can eat away at your insides like a virus. (That it eats you alive). Shame is not a symptom of the mentally ill. Its just a side effect.
In my creased hospital dress, I wish for death. The sweetest sleep away from detached, gloved hands and dissociative expressions. The never-ending hostile questions and the silent blame and accusations lying unspoken on dry lips.
You did this. Youre not sick. Youre just a twisted, manipulative lunatic.
Under medication and the slow Novocain drip of sedation, I wish for another disease. I want a tumor in my head something t
Suicides Learning To SpeakIt’s 6 a.m. A girl is beginning the journey back from Oz, anchored to life by the whirr and beep of machines and tubes. Above her emaciated body, nurses pace, write on clipboards, click their heels and purse their lips. She is oblivious. Her mind drifts in freefall, stuck in an eggshell skull wrapped in nasal gastric tubing and an oxygen pipe forced down her throat like a synthetic umbilical cord. Somewhere, neurotransmitters are sewing themselves back into conscious awareness. There is a person lost somewhere in that body. There is a mind overboard in a black sea, sending up a flare. The nurses are afraid that she will stay in there forever. A family jostles at the side of the bed in the cramped, generic hospital room. All the King’s horses and all the King’s men… I don’t need ruby shoes to find my way home. My name is Ruby, the nurses click their heels and my family makes the wish.More Like This
I’m finding my way back to consciousness through the sound
Naming Your NovelMore Like This
*This is also helpful for other types of fiction and possibly even non-fiction.*
Note: How careful you have to be naming your novel depends heavily on if you are planning to sell it, and how you are planning to sell it. If you are an unknown who is self-publishing and you want a lot of people to read and buy your novel, you need to do extensive research on the market. This article only covers a few tips, and I am in no way a publishing expert. But, even if you don't plan on going mass-commercial, that doesn't mean you shouldn't spend some time deciding on a name for your labor of love and I hope this article provides some useful ideas.
Consider important items--does your story revolve around a magical staff, sword or pendant? For example: "The Staff of Alema," "The Sapphire Sword," or "The Destiny Pendant." (I know these are cheesy but you get the idea).
Consider who your protagonist IS--is it an assassin, a magician, an apprentice
You Were Not An Aquarium BoySea-glass became your bones,More Like This
brine your blood, and seashells
melded into your skin.
You were not quite an ocean
when you said "This is your sign to love me."
My body was like a building;
tall, cold, almost unbreakable.
I was metallic and sharp,
towering over your waters.
I remember taking your hand in mine,
conch and coral shells scrubbing
my skyscraper wrists, and laughing
about how one day you would
submerge every last bit of me.
Your lips, riddled with argonauts,
found my cheek and I cringed
at the coarseness.
You asked if they bothered me
and I finally told you "I
think I love you."
This is my phone....More Like This
This is my phone,
there's many like it, but this one is mine,
my phone is my best friend, it is my life,
I must master it as I master my life.
Without me it is useless, without my phone I am useless
I will dial my phone true
I must text faster than my brethren
who is trying to contact me, I must text them before they text me....I will.
My phone and myself know what counts in society is not the data we receive
Not the tweets we get,
The reblogs on tumblr, nor the likes on facebook.
Knowing the message is sent that counts.
We will send
My phone is human, even as I, because it is my life
Thus I learn it as a brother, learn its glitches, the specs,
its cameras, the download and upload speeds.
I will ever guard it against weather and damage
I will keep my screen clean and fingerprint free
As I am clean and fingerprint free
We will become part of each other. We will...
Before my family I make this promise
My phone and myself are free to do as w
AftertasteHe woke up with his face next to three bottles of beer. He blinked blearily, his cheek glued to the wooden surface of the bar as he watched the sunlight filter through the murky brown glass. The smell of salt and alcohol was coming off his breath and a fly was buzzing by his ear.More Like This
He pulled himself into an upright position and found that he was sitting on a stool. He straightened the painful crick in his neck.
“Today is...Saturday?” he thought to himself. “Sunday? I can’t remember.” Saturday most likely; Saturday was the day for hangovers. He looked around and saw that he was in a tavern of some sorts, an old-fashioned one with white-washed walls and wooden trestles. There weren’t too many patrons – was it morning? He didn’t know. Murmurs and clinking cutlery hummed through the air while a barmaid wove between the tables and a pig man ate waffles in a corner.
He suddenly sat up and rubbed his eyes. A pig man? He looked closer, twisting and
When people learn that I listen to rap“What?”More Like This
A mix of skeptical, bewildered, mildly impressed
And sometimes a little disgusted.
“You listen to rap?”
Behold, a specimen of middle-class suburbia
Spectacled, pimpled, messy-haired
Painfully awkward, unquestionably nerdy
Oh, and female, let’s not forget about that.
“Haydn and Beethoven; yup, that’s definitely your jam
During your late-night chemistry revision sessions
On your wild nights, maybe some Katy Perr – wait, what?
You listen to rap?”
Yes, I listen to rap
(Although I do still listen to Haydn
Toting Bach and Biggie together
Gets you strange looks from HMV cashiers, let me tell you)
And yes, I do actually enjoy it;
I’m not that kind of ironic listener.
After the initial double-take,
The curious follow up with “Why do you listen to rap?”
Like Victorians questioning a returning anthropologist
Who’s been in among the natives
(For the record, I find this more funny than annoying
So please don
Raindance MaggieMore Like This
Twenty-three years before the crippling of Crown Prince James III
He was fourteen and she was probably aged about the same, give or take a few years. It had been an hour since he'd met her.
He hated her already.
She scowled behind him and likely shared the sentiment as they scampered up the hillside in a desperate attempt to escape the roaring mob that seemed to be growing perpetually larger and coming ever-closer. Gabriel would have liked to say that it was all her fault he was in this situation, though it was his careless nicking ofwhat was it? A chicken that started the first old woman running, but how was he supposed to know that she'd stumble and fall and everyone else would think he'd assaulted her?
He hadn't. He'd taken the chicken, snapped its neck and run, because he hadn't eaten meat in weeks and he was starting to feel the affects on his already weak limbs.
This is what happens, he thought. This is what happens when you live like th
a hospital bird with soot in her lungsshe slept through a car crashMore Like This
that almost killed her.
through whitewhite walls,
where her lover dies.
nobody thought she'd make it,
but she woke up a few months later
with flowers in her hair
and ash in her airway;
trying to remember how to start all over,
but forgetting to remember how to live.
fall slipped from her open eyes
and winter crawled in for a long hibernation
to her the clouds looked sick
and pale like they might
let everything inside them out,
but she opened up wide instead,
spilling blood where there was none to be spilled.
her heart slipped down the street
and with unsteady hands
she stitched in a bird and cut off its wings.
PhoenixI won't be your phoenix,More Like This
your death wish
of maudlin words
stretched across this failing light.
I will not wear
new wings for you
that crimson you
were born with -
a mother's final wish
to keep out the winter
But I will wait,
the flaw and beauty
of your youth
painted across your palms
as you hold up
the moon to meet me.
ShellMy body is merely a shell,More Like This
sheltering my core;
my naked soul.
My body is no more than a mask,
covering my ugly truths and lies.
The portrait of my soul,
exists within my eyes.
You might fall in love
with what you see.
But please know,
the Universe is still painting me.
Maturity is Rare on DAFirst off, I want to say this is just me letting out some personal opinions based on events I've somehow gotten involved in.More Like This
Let's face it: the internet is a perfect mask. We can be anything we want to be, and say anything we want to say all while taking on a guise to hide our true faces/identities. This type of freedom is beyond incredible to have. More than likely, especially on DA, we have the ability to be more courageous in terms of expressing our views and ideas than we would be in person. For some, what we're bullied for in real life can gain us friendly support and sometimes even popularity on here.
Getting bullied for being a Green Lantern fan? There are groups and chats dedicated to that hero!
You still adore Frozen even as the backlash of it is brewing? You can still find plenty of artists who share the same opinions.
Nobody in your school know what the hell Total Drama is? Heck, come on here, and there are hundreds of still active artists and fans dedicated to
first official article on Blood Stainaaaarghhhh.. Must... share.. news...!! <3 <3 <3More Like This
*runs off to bounce around the house like a happy crazy person*
RebootI punched a kid twice in fifth grade for trying to see up Gemini Hetherington’s skirt when her twin brother was home sick. The Hetheringtons could get away with things like that if they ever lifted a fist in the first place, but for a Holthausen it was like a criminal offense, and all of the better-neighborhood parents gasped at the news and wondered what went wrong in my development. I sat in the car while the principal spoke to my dad about it. Through the window I heard him warn that I would no sooner be punching Walt Burtons in elementary than pulling a knife on a man for his wallet in adulthood, and that immediate correction was necessary unless he wanted me to wind up in jail with the rest of the scum of Airedale.More Like This
While my dad tried to calm the principal down, Gemini Hetherington tiptoed up to the window when her nanny was distracted. At first she signed ‘thank you’ to me through the window. She breathed on the glass and drew a heart on the foggy circle. T
Cozy captive"I need to heal", you say. "I must find a safe, cozy place at this point in my life where I can dig out all these slivers in my head, sort through my personality deficiencies, and transform. This time for real."More Like This
You will not find it. The God you pray to won't give you one.
Your cozy cave doesn't exist.
You will build it around yourself.
Once it is constructed you will be safe for the therapy that you have longed for to begin.
Oh how you have desired to become a person of substance and form and to feel solid, but solid is not what you become at first.
Instead you become soft like mush. Of course you are.
You are turning inside out, but this is not what you expected so it would be easier to believe you are defective.
Out of the mush strange forms emerge.
They feel repulsive and so you revert back and the mushy self continues like a cup of chowder.
The process has begun though, and the new forms come back,
Slowly to be embraced by you and th
Who's Who on dA: Issue 3Hey everybody! Medoriko here with something I have been wanting to do for awhile. I enjoy doing feature articles, but I have realized more and more that a lot of features people do (and I'm super guilty of this) involve people that are more known in the literature community here. Or, in my case, it's a feature of people I'm good buddies with. There's an incredible amount of talent hiding in the corners of dA, and I want to give some spotlight to those that haven't gotten the recognition they deserve. We have all been there, and you gotta start somewhere right? Sometimes that's the push we need when we're new to dA, and just getting started. This is also for deviants who aren't new, but may be under the radar a bit. Either way, this is a good way to get some glimpse into who's out there in this big world that is the lit community on deviantArt.More Like This
Thus the entire point of this feature article series I'd like to call: “Who's Who on dA”. It will be feature articles spotli
I'm 21 As of today, I have survived 21 years in the world.More Like This
Unlike Yzma, I'm really happy about it.
It's surreal to me, because when I was little I swore by this age I would be a "stereotypical adult". I would wear dress suits, were button shirts, go do "adult" activities like go to 5 star restaraunts, watch operas, and talk about the weather by a water cooler.
In reality, I'm still not that different of a person. I still love cartoon and animated movies. I'm still attracted to the same type of males, and still loves to squeeze lemon on steamed broccoli. I love Skittles and fruity candies. I still shop at Hot Topic (even though I'm probably the oldest one in the store at times ). Sure, I've gained a few pounds and stretch marks since high school, but to be honest the only reason I'm so self-conscious is because of the body images that exist in society who say it's unattractive.
However, I have changed as well. I've matured to the point where I see people more fo
JOKER...Shall we begin? It's showtimeMore Like This
The invitation is for the beautiful you
How does one game sound?
Please allow me some of your time
Do you consent to the rule book?
Compassion is a useless affection
You want a favour from me
A penalties are inevitable
You can't turn back the hands of the clock
I've already put my cards into play
Joker, a girl on the verge of tears
Joker, a sign of the shaken world
Joker, pleasant circumstances have risen
Joker, two girls disappeared
This is a new world for you
The darkness dissolves amongst a sea of trees
I'm already having critical expectations
Well, what are you feeling now?
I gave you unbreakable love, asking nothing in return
The cards have already been put
MAD HATTERWelcome to my tea party, I knew you'd come...More Like This
Dissolved into the icy air, is the perfume that captivates you the most
Sit here and relax, don't hold back... there's nothing to fear
The little sugar candies are pretty, aren't they?
A taste that will drive you mad to the core
I have these sweet secret things, the tarts I stole from the Queen
I prepared them for you, I risked my life for it
Come, don't cry and eat! We are about to drown in your tears
Eat the mushroom with skill, be the right size for me
"The grinning cat appears in the form of moonlight"
Has your crying calmed down a bit? I am the only ally you have
Let's tell riddles, let's play! You are sure to forget the passage of time
Oh my! Have you eaten too much tart? It's the completion of our sin
You can't go back now, prepare yourself
You'll be hunted down by the card soldiers
The reason why I appear to be m
Box with dreamsSometimes I don't know what is realMore Like This
Does anybody feel the way I feel?
I should stop dreaming this dream
and instead face reality
Now you know my story and my past
Do you think those tears will be my last?
I'm still looking for my place in this world
As a woman and a little girl
I'm opening this box filled with my dreams
Right now it's safe enough, or so it seems
The world it feels more real and true
Ready for the me I am with you
RainbowMany elementsMore Like This
working together as one
to create beauty.
Accept the individuality you possess
and the Oneness you share.
I believe in myself (abstract)The hopeless romantics burned down the churchMore Like This
I wont control my soul... To kill or to get killed?
I will control my mind. To act or to react...?
The lost generation laughed in madness
Plastic eyes, rubber souls
The whole Mendeleev's periodic table for blood
Its a miracle...
...While the right wing killed off a few innocent ravens
We name things, we put value in them, and we judge them
So who is the God? Who has the healthiest lungs and wisdom of thousand one’s?
So The christians prayed in the corner
Why would I command my heart, if you named suicide illegal?
Why cant i love? You named it impolite
Well take your opinion and shove it up your ass...
God, forgive. I feel so alive!
Meanwhile I plucked the left wing while watching the news.
Gods are pyromaniacs...
Lie With My CountrymenHere I lie in a time now lostMore Like This
To me and my countrymen
But we still want and wait and worry
That our prices to bear are given to wind tossed
A tale my friend like any other
O how I long for it to end
But here I stay to drudge the mud
Which circles like the arms of a mother
When I lived my life was full
My raising of half-gesture
I grew in ways more than one
And saw my life; one of a dying bull
There was time to cast my ballot in
To voice what I wanted my life to be
But the time came and past like the summer breeze
And what I did not do seemed the greatest sin
So I left the place which reared me
I went far to find a way to forget
The things that marked my treading path behind
The foreground came, and I did see
Commerce and Construction. Chaos amid Peace
I was staggered and lost
I was swept under the tide
Of human expansion that did not cease
There was barely space for breath
And the air was always scarce
I did not know that
This led to my slow death
The rooms stunk of smoke
Free FallFree FallMore Like This
Suggested by delice1941
The last thing i saw
A cluster of clouds, like cotton puffs
Then everything seemed to plunge
Everything was darkness, then
When I could see, I saw leaves
I revived in a tree
The chute would not open
I screamed and yelled as I fell
But I stopped my screams
And my adventurous daydreams
When at last I broke
[Stanza 3, 5-7-5-7-5, adapted from a comment by Gytalf2000]
Collection CompleteIt was over, it was finally over. Sailor Moon the once average teenaged girl breathed hard as it took all her strength to stand up. After everything she had been through it was over with at last as Queen Beryl was finally destroyed and no more.More Like This
She plopped down on her butt and slowly smiled throwing out a victory sign as they had won. The girl who had her hair in a meatball fashion never believed that all this would’ve happened. Learning who she really was, her past life, meeting up with the others who became her best friends and closest companions. All the battles and fights that had happened was finally over. Now she could go back to being a regular high school student who’s main concern was boys and an upcoming algebra test.
“Serena,” A voice said and she turned her head and her smile grew and her eyes lit up as she saw the group before her approaching her.
“Guys!” She shouted pulling herself up and ran towards them and engulfed them all at once i