herr-moriarty's avatar
E.V.
9 Watchers6K Page Views51 Deviations

Perfect World

P

Perfect World

In a perfect world, there would never have been a war, no anger, no men driven mad by phantom shrapnel in their minds, no death. In a perfect world, he wouldn't be smuggling just to get by.  His cargo would be respectable and he wouldn't be broke all the time. In a perfect world, he wouldn't be continually putting his life in the hands of the eccentric, the crazy, the pompous, or the merely trigger-happy. In a perfect world, he would have found religion and never lost it. In a perfect world, his heart wouldn't keep breaking over and over again. Mal likes his perfect world; he dreams about it sometimes, but he likes things better the way

The Music Connection

T

The Music Connection

As a science teacher, he'd always understood the mechanics of sound and of musical instruments.  He could tune a piano to perfection, but there was no music in his soul. There are people who can feel the emotion in music, whether they can carry a tune or not.  He could do neither. There was only one song he could even complete, only one song he really liked.  Occasionally students would catch him whistling it--badly--in the halls when he thought that no one else was around. He was getting old, working was starting to get more tedious, and he felt like a machine.  The song made him feel just a little more human again.

Peacock

P

Peacock

To my peacock in the ground I know (you know) the world is spinning 'round and you're wishing (not for the first time) that it would stop. Because when gravity's wiped from the board your tiny grave will be well ignored and we'll know for certain (once and for all) if all those thoughts inside your head --you know the ones I mean, the ones that don't belong to you. Pretty pictures are all just as well, but colors alone cannot conceal what the (stupid) child's mind wishes to reveal-- were spinning too. Or if they've all gone away.

Foreign

F

Foreign

I’m not at home with the syncopated rhythms Of everyday life in a strange strange land. The foreign litany made all the worse by aching chords and Melodies strung out in eighteen eight.

Blue Shades: Chapter One

B

Blue Shades: Chapter One

Rule Number One: Learn who you can trust, and listen to what they have to say. Rule Number Two: Forget everything you just learned.  Nothing here is what is seems. I've survived as long as I have with skewed priorities.  Being self-sacrificing is all very well, but it doesn’t pay the bills.  Though, come to think of it, I'm not really the self-sacrificing type. - - - - - - - It was a dark night.  Nights are, I realize, usually dark, but this one particularly so.  There was no moon out, and the streetlight outside my building wasn’t working very well . . . and, well, it was dark. I only mention it because it was making me drow

Name

N

Name

The question of why we name our instruments is a tricky one. Not everyone does, you see. The argument is that, Like boats, If you name them and love them they’ll never fail you. But I’ve been in plenty of unnamed boats. I assure you that they still float as well as any other. Likewise, An instrument without a name will undoubtedly still play. And even before the question of names is that of personification.   Failure is never our fault, It’s our instrument’s.   “It doesn’t want to play.” “Her pads are absolutely shot.” We treat them like recalcitrant pets Or children Or even equal

Who Knows the Big Bad Wolf?

W

Who Knows the Big Bad Wolf?

I strolled once down a forest path—as we’d all been advised by Frost—well off the road most travelled.  The world around me was silent, as forests are often wont to be, and yet still more-so than one would expect.  Dead, I suppose, is the best way to put it. I had come seeking solitude, but I hadn’t considered this possible turn of events.  The sort of aloneness I had intended for myself was the sort brought about by haughtily ignoring passers-by.  This is difficult when there isn’t anyone to ignore.  I could cease to pay attention to myself, but that would just be silly. Some time after I had grown tired of lament

Sonnet III

S

Sonnet III

He said to me what he once said to them: So many tales of fishes and wishes, Willing me them to (and not to) condemn. None could acquire a taste for those dishes. Those fishes in the sea cried out to me, And yet I never paid them any heed, No more than I would a leaf on a tree. That much seemed to be too much a misdeed. I can’t understand them, not anymore. No matter how long I sat wondering, I could just read the deep dark ocean floor For all I fathomed of the gurgling. And then they were gone, but I shed no tears, For I was that shallow, all of these years.

Sonnet II

S

Sonnet II

Speak not of knowing thoughts in endless streams Which do not belong in your empty head. Humanity has fought hard for its dreams, Only to lose them when we are all dead. The competence to think before we speak Is a presence of mind not borne by all. Blank words tumble from the lips of the meek, Rambling and falling to answer the call. Some thoughts are best locked in the mind’s vault. Left in the dark, they can do little harm. Offense taken from them is not my fault, Promised I not they would bear any charm. In the chronicles of the human mind Be not terrified of what you may find.

Sonnet I

S

Sonnet I

Incandescent thoughts implode in other Rooms, where the lights have all long since burnt out. Inspiration is constantly smothered In carpet laced with broken glass and doubt. The red light should have given her away: My darling, dread mistress all too merry. I knew her face when I entered the fray But leave I now with sorrows to carry. And yet perhaps men’s minds are meant to break In the hands of those with hammers and fate. Life is, after all, just what you can make. The light only ever comes on too late. Glass walls are seen as far too confining, So long as for you, mistress, I’m pining.
See all

Blue

B

Blue

Rosario, Rosario, Rosario Blue, tell me whatever shall you do? The birds have flown away with all that you knew, is it time to start anew?

Glass Ceiling, Glass Floor

G

Glass Ceiling, Glass Floor

In the beginning there was only one people, and in the beginning they lived together in harmony in a single city. They called this city Arrista'arryn, the city that touches the sky. They say that it was created by the long forgotten gods of old in the tallest branches of the tallest trees in the entire world; towers and citadels built from stones of frozen clouds and windows of frozen light, all strung together with bridges as fine and strong as a spider's web. The gods lived there, until they died, and their other creations, the humans, took over. They extended the city, building as the gods never had, right up until towers threatened to tu

Spotlight

Who Knows the Big Bad Wolf?

W

Who Knows the Big Bad Wolf?

I strolled once down a forest path—as we’d all been advised by Frost—well off the road most travelled.  The world around me was silent, as forests are often wont to be, and yet still more-so than one would expect.  Dead, I suppose, is the best way to put it. I had come seeking solitude, but I hadn’t considered this possible turn of events.  The sort of aloneness I had intended for myself was the sort brought about by haughtily ignoring passers-by.  This is difficult when there isn’t anyone to ignore.  I could cease to pay attention to myself, but that would just be silly. Some time after I had grown tired of lament
4Comments
  • United States
  • Deviant for 13 years
Badges
Llama: Llamas are awesome! (1)
My Bio
Current Residence: East of Eden, West of Hell
Operating System: caffiene
Skin of choice: other peoples'
Favourite cartoon character: Aquaman
Personal Quote: "My life is the parenthesis, but my death...my death will be a paragraph."

Favourite Movies
The Seven Samurai, Murder by Death, A Fistful of Dollars
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Kasabian, TMBG, The New Pornographers, Franz Ferdinand
Favourite Writers
Vonnegut, Heinlen, Gaiman, cummings
Tools of the Trade
pen, paper, overactive imagination
Other Interests
Writing, reading, frightening other people

No Good

No Good

I'm not a good liar, and I'm no better at being lied to. we've been through this before, you and I through and through --I just want to know one thing about you that's true. I'm very bad at birthdays.  And Tuesdays. And just about everything at this point. Please excuse the sporadic nature of my intelligence.  I've been cooped up in my tower room for some days now without any respite in sight.  If I were beautifully vapid maiden, I might retain some hope of rescue.  But I rejected Helen's company ages ago, and so I languish. At least the electric fan still works, so I'm cool, and rain smells far better than the fire and brimstone of dr

Missing Things

Missing Things

This new version of DA is interesting.  However, I'm with-holding judgment until I can scrounge up enough caffeine to force my brain to work properly again. Oddly, the fact that I am currently well out of my normal bubble environment seems to have shaken my muse out of her long slumber.  I may in fact have something worth reading to share in the near future. Most notable among my possible future submissions is an extension of the piece entitled "Change" which has been sitting in my gallery for some time.  It seems such a shame to leave Cardea to rot, and midnightfoxe (https://www.deviantart.com/midnightfoxe) and I briefly discussed the idea of writing our own fantasy novel.  T

The Long Road Ahead

The Long Road Ahead

"The meaning of life?"  He gives me a look that indicates scorn tempered, perhaps, by amusement.  "Why on Earth would you want to know that?" Answering is harder than I'd thought it would be--even harder than finding him in the first place.  "Because. . . because I thought that if I knew and could find a relevant application, maybe then I'd know if I'm really alive." He laughs and I'm wounded.  The scorn is gone, the amusement remains (it rises along with the color in my cheeks), and his mirth reverberates so heavily in the room that I wonder if perhaps I'm going to be ill.  "So you're one of those people: the would-be paladins fallen by th

Comments 35

Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
mjOboeHobbyist Traditional Artist
thanks for the favorite!
Thanks a lot for the fav! :D
sutinenStudent Traditional Artist
Thank you very much for the favourite. :heart:
yanjin Photographer
Thanks for the fav !

Nice to know you like the film...

:chainsaw:
yanjin Photographer
Thanks for the fav !

Nice to know you like the film...

:chainsaw:
Thankyou very much for the fave! :heart: