Why are the best words always the ones that are sad?
It’s so hard to express anything other than broken, pitiful or mad.
We’ve forgotten the romance of an ocean filled with the moon,
An abyss of lavender fields dancing to the eastern winds tune.
The scent of crushed grass beneath bareshod and stained feet,
Or a night at the theatre, overtime has gone to pay for front row seats.
It possibly due to the universal nature of our shared pain.
The human state is one filled with more heartache than gain.
It has always been far easier to relate to a message of angst.
It’s so easy to relate to coz we’ve all heard the same rants.
The joy in life is more difficult to put into a poetic sonnet.
So I instead pick up the sad bastard mantle and don it.
These words are to deny, defy this sad, self destructive habit
I’m throwing down the gauntlet; here’s where I pull out a white rabbit.
Our joys are unique, special, individual and specific to us.
Happiness is rarely shared just in case our bubble goes bust.
Private joys stay that way, locked away deep in our heart of hearts.
This poem is my way of releasing these locked up ecstatic parts.
Here are mine, the things that make me smile in the darkest hours.
My music, Ellora and Corbin, Singing with my sister, Fawlty towers,
Writing home to mum, Writing a story, Cloying sweet lavender scent,
Giving a gift, Walking on a starry night, Hanging with friends; a night well spent,
My novel collection, My dragons, My dreams, Memories of loved ones lost,
Thoughts of loved ones gained, Doing what’s right no matter the cost.
Wizbian, Waggy, Travis, Kurt, Zimmer, Sam, Bodie and Matt,
Purd-turd, Steve, Jonothon, Hippie, Martie, Fergo, Jarmyn and Cat
Gossard, Haggis, Dommie, Lise, Meggles, Ann, Tony, Jodie and Dimes
Krystal, Meenda, Jamie and Chelle. Thank god some of these names rhyme
Sleep well children, sleep silent because their will always be joy.
For me there will always be love, happiness and pretty toys.
There are awful things that happen to all of us every single day.
But it is not these horrid things that guide us on our long and arduous way.
The road ahead is dark and angry and yet it is sporadically lit.
It is these tiny moments of joy that make being alive worth it.
Dusk1983
ANGRY GNOME!!!!!The road ahead
Newest Deviations
family of two
Dusk1983
0
1
Literature
untitles
when the highs arent as high
and it seems the lows are lower,
then maybe its time, time to show her
Show her all those things you do
Pins and needles flame-touched spoons
Cooking, cooking, cooking my bed
with greenery, fungi and things in my head
Nowhere to lie so I cant close my eyes
But the bed is made and in it I'll die
and it seems the lows are lower,
then maybe its time, time to show her
Show her all those things you do
Pins and needles flame-touched spoons
Cooking, cooking, cooking my bed
with greenery, fungi and things in my head
Nowhere to lie so I cant close my eyes
But the bed is made and in it I'll die
Dusk1983 Dusk1983
0
0
Literature
campaign week 1
Fizzgig's report to the republic:
We landed on a planet as of yet unclassified due to its strategic value and contested nature. We were sent on a reconnaisance mission. What was odd was we were sent with a "diplomat" and our standard pilot (me) was replaced with some republic schlubb who apparently didnt understand that landing in a box canyon with poor visibility opened us up to a perfect ambush.
The diplomat came with his own retinue of staff all of whom were useless in a fight. We exited the ship and were immediately set upon by sith forces led by one of their dark jedi type folks. "New Guy" was one of the first to go down. Our diplomat showed his true colours and drew a lightsaber to combat this threat but failed. BTW next time? we can keep a secret, and we perform better if we know who we're working with. Eventually thanks to a combination of superior numbers, the element of surprise and the betrayal of one of the members of the Jedi's retinue (yeah, we were definately
We landed on a planet as of yet unclassified due to its strategic value and contested nature. We were sent on a reconnaisance mission. What was odd was we were sent with a "diplomat" and our standard pilot (me) was replaced with some republic schlubb who apparently didnt understand that landing in a box canyon with poor visibility opened us up to a perfect ambush.
The diplomat came with his own retinue of staff all of whom were useless in a fight. We exited the ship and were immediately set upon by sith forces led by one of their dark jedi type folks. "New Guy" was one of the first to go down. Our diplomat showed his true colours and drew a lightsaber to combat this threat but failed. BTW next time? we can keep a secret, and we perform better if we know who we're working with. Eventually thanks to a combination of superior numbers, the element of surprise and the betrayal of one of the members of the Jedi's retinue (yeah, we were definately
Dusk1983 Dusk1983
0
0
Literature
ready
He's ready now.
Every second of every minute of every hour,
Since the day he emerged (doubtlessly) screaming into this cold bright world,
Has been building towards this moment;
An unforseen yet steadily approaching crescendo haunting and permeating every breath.
In hindsight, it was almost palbable,
An underlying current of sinister drumbeats guiding his footsteps forshadowing this,
The moment he finally claims the freedom he has craved.
Looking back at it all, he finds himself musing,
Pondering the twists and turns, the cruel slings and arrows if you will, that have brought him here.
Where else could any great journey possibly start other than the heart of an innocent?
A child, the outsider, the odd one, the black sheep.
Never quite understanding why he had been singled out to be different, but now it was all very clear.
The taunts, the teasing, and then the jeers
Perhaps his peers of old, in their youthful innocence were able to sense the oncoming storm
Perhaps even able to hear in t
Every second of every minute of every hour,
Since the day he emerged (doubtlessly) screaming into this cold bright world,
Has been building towards this moment;
An unforseen yet steadily approaching crescendo haunting and permeating every breath.
In hindsight, it was almost palbable,
An underlying current of sinister drumbeats guiding his footsteps forshadowing this,
The moment he finally claims the freedom he has craved.
Looking back at it all, he finds himself musing,
Pondering the twists and turns, the cruel slings and arrows if you will, that have brought him here.
Where else could any great journey possibly start other than the heart of an innocent?
A child, the outsider, the odd one, the black sheep.
Never quite understanding why he had been singled out to be different, but now it was all very clear.
The taunts, the teasing, and then the jeers
Perhaps his peers of old, in their youthful innocence were able to sense the oncoming storm
Perhaps even able to hear in t
Dusk1983 Dusk1983
0
0
Literature
how are you today?
How am I today?
I'm fine.
Why on earth is the question repeated EVERY DAY?
The answer is always the same because nothing ever changes.
Everyone should know THAT.
So how am I?
I'm fine.
Same as I was yesterday, and the day before that,
The exact same as the day you left, and nothing has changed.
As if it would.
What other answer is there?
I'm fine.
Even if I COULD answer more accurately and succinctly
WHAT ON EARTH would be the point when nothing changes?
Just an excercise in futility.
So how am I?
I'm not fine.
I wasn't fine even when I had you in my life.
So how could I possibly be fine now?! THINK!
Now nod, and say "that's nice"
Because nothing can be fixed.
Noone can change.
Life has no happy endings, perfections or Fate.
So walk through life pretending that everythings fine...
I'm fine. See?
I'm fine.
Why on earth is the question repeated EVERY DAY?
The answer is always the same because nothing ever changes.
Everyone should know THAT.
So how am I?
I'm fine.
Same as I was yesterday, and the day before that,
The exact same as the day you left, and nothing has changed.
As if it would.
What other answer is there?
I'm fine.
Even if I COULD answer more accurately and succinctly
WHAT ON EARTH would be the point when nothing changes?
Just an excercise in futility.
So how am I?
I'm not fine.
I wasn't fine even when I had you in my life.
So how could I possibly be fine now?! THINK!
Now nod, and say "that's nice"
Because nothing can be fixed.
Noone can change.
Life has no happy endings, perfections or Fate.
So walk through life pretending that everythings fine...
I'm fine. See?
Dusk1983 Dusk1983
0
1
Literature
what I wouldn't do
To hold you again.
To feel you pressed up against me.
To lose myself in your embrace.
Let your mere presence wash away
All my woes, all my pain, all my hate.
To speak to you again.
To hear your voice on the other end.
To share with you all my thoughts.
Let your wisdom and empathy guide me
Through the mishaps of every day life.
To feel loved by you again.
To hear joy when you speak to me.
To see excitement when you see me.
Let your love touch my own heart,
In ways hitherto unimagined.
Fix me Jepeddo.
Come fix my wooden heart,
For it has been broken.
Hammer and nail, Glue and saw.
For the love of god, make me wooden once more.
To feel you pressed up against me.
To lose myself in your embrace.
Let your mere presence wash away
All my woes, all my pain, all my hate.
To speak to you again.
To hear your voice on the other end.
To share with you all my thoughts.
Let your wisdom and empathy guide me
Through the mishaps of every day life.
To feel loved by you again.
To hear joy when you speak to me.
To see excitement when you see me.
Let your love touch my own heart,
In ways hitherto unimagined.
Fix me Jepeddo.
Come fix my wooden heart,
For it has been broken.
Hammer and nail, Glue and saw.
For the love of god, make me wooden once more.
Dusk1983 Dusk1983
0
0
Literature
ak-ti's finest moment
Ak-Ti felt guilt rising once again. All over the galaxy, war was raging, and all he could think was that he was relieved. The council’s recent decision to become involved in the conflict between the trade federation and the republic had made it easier and more acceptable for him to be indulging in his habit. Before the conflict had reached these climactic levels, all the masters exchanged worried looks around the young padawan who ‘had difficulty’ letting go of the force.
None of them understood. It wasn’t about ‘letting go’ it wasn’t about ‘holding’ onto anything. It was about being a part of the universe. Growing up in the Jedi enclave on Coruscant, Ak-Ti had never really known the comforting love of a family, and being one with the force was how he imagined such a life would feel. When the force was flowing through him, he cou
None of them understood. It wasn’t about ‘letting go’ it wasn’t about ‘holding’ onto anything. It was about being a part of the universe. Growing up in the Jedi enclave on Coruscant, Ak-Ti had never really known the comforting love of a family, and being one with the force was how he imagined such a life would feel. When the force was flowing through him, he cou
Dusk1983 Dusk1983
0
5
Literature
The nighttime tale
There are many types of cold in this life. From the biting frosty shiver of the winter wind through to the comforting cool of a fountain of water. Tonight though, tonight we will be discussing the other kind of cold. The cold that is rarely brought up in polite circles except for those rare occasions when god-fearing folk come together in the night and whisper tales to each other to explain exactly why man fears the night.
Tonight, we will be contemplating the chill of the soul.
Any man who claims not to have felt it at least once in his lifetime, is either a liar or such a dullard as to be simply insensitive to those feelings, tremors or other indicators that mundane existence is being encroached from beyond.
I must first place a healt
Tonight, we will be contemplating the chill of the soul.
Any man who claims not to have felt it at least once in his lifetime, is either a liar or such a dullard as to be simply insensitive to those feelings, tremors or other indicators that mundane existence is being encroached from beyond.
I must first place a healt
Dusk1983 Dusk1983
1
6
Mature content
nobody read this
Dusk1983
0
12
Literature
writers block PRIME
There is a truth ive been meaning to face
the meaning of which im trying to place.
It seems that ive thrown off the joys of youth
And am faced with this one last terrifying truth.
It seems that I cant write anymore.
My inspiration has walked out the door.
I just cant write anymore.
It like ive lost the spirit I had before.
I sit alone in the dark as long as I'm able
Reminiscing the way i could spin a gold fable.
But the walls close in and I'm still at a loss.
Ive lost my way amidst lifes cruel chaos.
It seems that I cant write today.
I've tried but i can find naught to say.
I just cant write today.
Ive nothing left but rot and decay.
Inspiration used to come to me so easy
But all that comes now is paltry and measly
Its not like now I'm not lonely miserable and sad
I have more of these emotions than i think i ever had
Yet
It seems that I cant write again
I can no longer rely on it as i did back then
I just CAN'T write again
I cant see the point of even picking up a pen.
the meaning of which im trying to place.
It seems that ive thrown off the joys of youth
And am faced with this one last terrifying truth.
It seems that I cant write anymore.
My inspiration has walked out the door.
I just cant write anymore.
It like ive lost the spirit I had before.
I sit alone in the dark as long as I'm able
Reminiscing the way i could spin a gold fable.
But the walls close in and I'm still at a loss.
Ive lost my way amidst lifes cruel chaos.
It seems that I cant write today.
I've tried but i can find naught to say.
I just cant write today.
Ive nothing left but rot and decay.
Inspiration used to come to me so easy
But all that comes now is paltry and measly
Its not like now I'm not lonely miserable and sad
I have more of these emotions than i think i ever had
Yet
It seems that I cant write again
I can no longer rely on it as i did back then
I just CAN'T write again
I cant see the point of even picking up a pen.
Dusk1983 Dusk1983
1
3
Mature content
Therapy for the lost
Dusk1983
0
4
Literature
The Winter Cometh
There is a warmth, a hope, a fleeting dream
But the wind blows and my heart is chilled.
As sure as the brightness of day fades into night,
The winter of the heart, the soul, it cometh.
The deadening of all that was joy,
Familiar, comforting, yet heartbreaking.
There is a whisper on the wind, a hissing phrase
'I remember you, how dare you forget me?'
And so the bitter lonely cold and dreadful winter
The lady of Ice, my one true lover returns.
Faithful as ever, to enact vengeance upon my tresspass
And trespassed I have, for i broke our silent agreement.
I bathed in Light. I knew joy. I knew love.
I drowned myself in passion, I gave everything i could.
God love me I have even known fleeting glimpses of faith.
I broke the agreement. i dared to hope.
Now the lady, she envelops me once more.
Enticing, inviting, wanting nothing more than her due.
To worship hopelessness, to idolise defeat.
To wallow in her, and never be sad, never be happy.
Just be.
And be hers alone.
But the wind blows and my heart is chilled.
As sure as the brightness of day fades into night,
The winter of the heart, the soul, it cometh.
The deadening of all that was joy,
Familiar, comforting, yet heartbreaking.
There is a whisper on the wind, a hissing phrase
'I remember you, how dare you forget me?'
And so the bitter lonely cold and dreadful winter
The lady of Ice, my one true lover returns.
Faithful as ever, to enact vengeance upon my tresspass
And trespassed I have, for i broke our silent agreement.
I bathed in Light. I knew joy. I knew love.
I drowned myself in passion, I gave everything i could.
God love me I have even known fleeting glimpses of faith.
I broke the agreement. i dared to hope.
Now the lady, she envelops me once more.
Enticing, inviting, wanting nothing more than her due.
To worship hopelessness, to idolise defeat.
To wallow in her, and never be sad, never be happy.
Just be.
And be hers alone.
Dusk1983 Dusk1983
0
9
Mature content
to my friend
Dusk1983
2
21
Literature
The longing
Barren, empty, the sleepless void.
Petrified, stricken by the sounds employed.
Monsters of the modern nights,
Masters of the worst of midnight frights.
An empty house filled with creaks and groans
My darkened room with the beeps of my phone.
Ah! But to say what should not be said,
Perhaps then, then I could defeat my dread.
The fear is real but the truth is nigh.
My sleep is troubled by the truths inside.
To say what should not be uttered.
Perhaps very quiet? What if I stuttered?
To say those words that should not be said
They rattle around deep in my head.
"It is not right!" I cry, "you cannot be mine"
My self rightous conscience pulls me in line.
The outburst is silenced as the external fears,
The ghoulish and ghastly darkness once again rears;
Its terrible, tremendous and treacherous head.
Once more I am gripped by a palpable dread.
The real issues are deep, deep inside
But in my fears of false darkness that's where I'll hide.
I cannot sleep because I have bad dreams.
Oh yes, that's
Petrified, stricken by the sounds employed.
Monsters of the modern nights,
Masters of the worst of midnight frights.
An empty house filled with creaks and groans
My darkened room with the beeps of my phone.
Ah! But to say what should not be said,
Perhaps then, then I could defeat my dread.
The fear is real but the truth is nigh.
My sleep is troubled by the truths inside.
To say what should not be uttered.
Perhaps very quiet? What if I stuttered?
To say those words that should not be said
They rattle around deep in my head.
"It is not right!" I cry, "you cannot be mine"
My self rightous conscience pulls me in line.
The outburst is silenced as the external fears,
The ghoulish and ghastly darkness once again rears;
Its terrible, tremendous and treacherous head.
Once more I am gripped by a palpable dread.
The real issues are deep, deep inside
But in my fears of false darkness that's where I'll hide.
I cannot sleep because I have bad dreams.
Oh yes, that's
Dusk1983 Dusk1983
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12
Literature
Dusk1983
Why Dusk? Why such a silly name?
Why not Lance? Why find the need to be called something im not?
1983 obviously my year of birth. The day that Paul Robeson died.
A good man, Paul Robeson, a commie with the voice of an angel.
But Why Dusk? Do I think Im really Dusk inside?
Or Do I think I'd like to believe Im really dusk inside?
Option the latter I believe, but so be it. So who am i?
I'm guess I just have to be Lance.
So Who is Lance? Why such a silly little man?
Socially inept and none too bright.
There are far better men out there, men with brains or looks or charisma.
So how can I claim to be Dusk?
So who is Dusk? Dusk is, was an idea.
The idea of hope, purity, stength in the face of adversity.
The idea of courage, humour, stalwart in the face of bigotry.
Put down again and again, his job was to get back up. And win.
Have you ever seen a truly beautiful sunset?
Especially in winter with a faint nip in a chill wind.
The sky is on FIRE. You are chilly and yet here,
Betwe
Why not Lance? Why find the need to be called something im not?
1983 obviously my year of birth. The day that Paul Robeson died.
A good man, Paul Robeson, a commie with the voice of an angel.
But Why Dusk? Do I think Im really Dusk inside?
Or Do I think I'd like to believe Im really dusk inside?
Option the latter I believe, but so be it. So who am i?
I'm guess I just have to be Lance.
So Who is Lance? Why such a silly little man?
Socially inept and none too bright.
There are far better men out there, men with brains or looks or charisma.
So how can I claim to be Dusk?
So who is Dusk? Dusk is, was an idea.
The idea of hope, purity, stength in the face of adversity.
The idea of courage, humour, stalwart in the face of bigotry.
Put down again and again, his job was to get back up. And win.
Have you ever seen a truly beautiful sunset?
Especially in winter with a faint nip in a chill wind.
The sky is on FIRE. You are chilly and yet here,
Betwe
Dusk1983 Dusk1983
0
38
Literature
Archangel
Verse 1
Lonely nights and empty streets,
Never know just who you'll meet.
Wanderin, whisperin For All The World to Hear,
Too wrapped in thoughts to sense him comin near.
A calloused hand and leering grin,
Curious you let him pull you in.
Too late you see just what He'll take,
If asked I can save you from this fate.
Chorus:
I'll be your Archangel,
Folded wings and righteous rage
I could be your Archangel
Eyes of fire and burning blade.
Verse 2
Infernal Demons in your home,
Domestic doomsday, broken bones
All I need is for The Truth to be Seen
untill it is the sword remains clean.
Bridge
Oooh, Empty!
Empty Words and Lies.
Empty!
Empty Hearts and Eyes!
Chorus:
I'll be your Archangel,
Folded wings and righteous rage
I could be your Archangel
Eyes of fire and burning blade.
Verse 3
You turn away from the offered hand,
Not your idea of a manly man.
I guess an Angel Aint What you Need.
But never come crying, cryin to me.
From here on out le
Lonely nights and empty streets,
Never know just who you'll meet.
Wanderin, whisperin For All The World to Hear,
Too wrapped in thoughts to sense him comin near.
A calloused hand and leering grin,
Curious you let him pull you in.
Too late you see just what He'll take,
If asked I can save you from this fate.
Chorus:
I'll be your Archangel,
Folded wings and righteous rage
I could be your Archangel
Eyes of fire and burning blade.
Verse 2
Infernal Demons in your home,
Domestic doomsday, broken bones
All I need is for The Truth to be Seen
untill it is the sword remains clean.
Bridge
Oooh, Empty!
Empty Words and Lies.
Empty!
Empty Hearts and Eyes!
Chorus:
I'll be your Archangel,
Folded wings and righteous rage
I could be your Archangel
Eyes of fire and burning blade.
Verse 3
You turn away from the offered hand,
Not your idea of a manly man.
I guess an Angel Aint What you Need.
But never come crying, cryin to me.
From here on out le
Dusk1983 Dusk1983
0
30
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Dusk1983
ANGRY GNOME!!!!!
Artist
Artist
Australia
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Current Residence: Brisbane, Australia Favourite genre of music: Super mega sad bastard Favourite photographer: Bodos also on this site... MP3 player of choice: mine. the one i bought. it keeps me comapny on the bus. Shell of choice: I hear clams are nice this time of year Wallpaper of choice: 'the giant wombat by ~gen01 www.deviantart.com/deviation/3… Skin of choice: pale, as long as i can say away from the daystar long enough to harbour a moon tan. Favourite cartoon character: the black monkey from "super robot monkey team hyper force go!" Personal Quote: Thottbot it. |
I think I need to start writing again. I guess this place is as good as any.
My cousin who I've not actually seen in ages tagged me in passing on the *other* social media site people use and mentioned me as "the only writer he knows". It really drove home just how much writing used to be such a huge part of how I defined myself and now it's just some dream I used to have.
Those who know me in real life will know that I've had a shit of a year. Really. Some heavy life stuff has all fallen apart and I find myself lost in an ocean of tiny things that alone could be considered FWP but together amount to me needing therapy just to not top myself or go postal. Bets are out on which one will get me first.
Anyway. This is me screaming my soul into the void. I hope I can start writing again.
My cousin who I've not actually seen in ages tagged me in passing on the *other* social media site people use and mentioned me as "the only writer he knows". It really drove home just how much writing used to be such a huge part of how I defined myself and now it's just some dream I used to have.
Those who know me in real life will know that I've had a shit of a year. Really. Some heavy life stuff has all fallen apart and I find myself lost in an ocean of tiny things that alone could be considered FWP but together amount to me needing therapy just to not top myself or go postal. Bets are out on which one will get me first.
Anyway. This is me screaming my soul into the void. I hope I can start writing again.
i just recently added 5 albums to that fb page!