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About Literature / Hobbyist Christopher StainesMale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 18 Years
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We silly billions
We risk what makes us human,
Squeezed and squeezing what contains us,
Spinning, forcing us to be what mold we remain in,
Giving in at first but changing
Based on feeling different when we are but all
These silly billions, flashes and reflections
On the stream, forming in swift current
Around the rocks left standing
As we push and bubble upward,
Into the air and where our source,
Of whom we are but mirrored,
Guides us outward,
Pointing us by darkness’
Great clarities toward where we come from.
And yet we remain these children,
Craving our motions made in moments
When time was but this allotment we could fill
With what we wanted, not what haunts us.
:iconpo:po 0 0
about goats
the classifieds are so sad when read from
perspective of intention's goodwill; "They
need a good, safe home," rings so softly as
to be passed by reader,
but is the hardest line to write.
:iconpo:po 0 0
Sunny Morning into Night
Him, the lone surveyor,
His hands tightly clasping
an object of no significant
Why do my hands
wrap so around this,
as though, through holding
this, I may somehow grasp
and grab and have and melt into
its stillness, its calm?  I cannot.
This object, this, in hands,
I know not its worth, outside
the monetary (momentary) gain from which
I have given another, and,
yet, I know its worth will, in me,
as I now hold this, steady,
with no means but letting go--
Perhaps, if I allow it to, it will
fall, or perhaps it will stay,
if I am falling.
They, the jester's mimic, aping
in their motion, holding nothing,
that the air about them stills
without a movement, but their feet,
closely wrapped and tight, as their
body's garments cling and appear to be.
What is this?  What is your foolish
bout with words, with those you speak
but know not their weight?
You know not either, you.
True, though I know you.
And?  Many know me;
:iconpo:po 1 0
the dream
the dream
áááof you in floor of seat,
ááááááááááááhaving said you lost ... something
áááááááááááááall in show of being level with me
ááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááas i sit infront of her,
ááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááthe one you brought
ááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááin hopes to push me off ...
áááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááájust a little regret/
áááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááa little action needed to reclaim me...
ááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááI am
áááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááalready Yours, for
ááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááYou are these eyes' focus,
ááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááshe merely a distraction.
áááááááááááááááááááááááááááááShake your head in wave of me,
áááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááááthe secret call
:iconpo:po 0 0
i sit here,
i sit here,
motion'd but moving-not,
but accompany'd.
who follows
lines hoping for a path
to per-
fection-- longing!
a knowledge
not of Quiet's retreat,
but of
:iconpo:po 0 0
what a way when the wind
what a way when the wind w´nds waste of trees/leaves of 'phalt to shield of haste on painted path 'pooled and personal, the last bastion of freedom aside from field or forest or sky or sea or expanse/the last destiny we, the current, shall never see 'til day finds need of lighters' offerings, those reasons left to static rather than 'namic philosophies-- who rules the wind? whose laws abide the sea? who's serpent squanders serenity in sight of stability/the crutch of the complacent/humility's worst nemesis, idleness/the hands let wander body in place of Curiosities, true finders of the Sciences
:iconpo:po 0 0
how to stop a smile from break
for all i've done, i know you wouldn't know
how many cells in this brain hold memories of
you and not of being there, not being able to
unlock these chains of in-security, obstacles i
never thought about all that much until you
brought freedom to this servant of thought
unlit and shining with reflections reflecting from
i blame the sun for breaking one day as all;
i blame the moon for showing change can come,
go, come, go, wax, wane, wax, wane, rise, fall;
i blame the breeze for showing tranquilities are
commonplace, daily, forgotten until left or leaving;
still, i blame the trees for waving without welcoming
the birds, the squirrells, the nests unfurled and grounded
without hands around to clasp them closer to a beating
that drowns the world in
:iconpo:po 1 0
round those eyes
roundest eyes
that arm
jerk-twisted and showing
those ribs
those ribs cleaned
and caving
those eyes
how round
those eyes
swollen and stationed
:iconpo:po 0 1
out came the tide from her...
out came the tide from her swollen eyes
                                                        and there i was,
              hand over pride to break the surf
              and i just kept telling myself
                            "she'll forgive me sometime.
:iconpo:po 0 0
on a cemented pathway
i walk, unabraded by carhorns
constantly stumbling to the left and behind--
a biker becomes a mailbox
with a newspaper slot underneath--
a single party-goer balances
before a doorway, on a step,
gesturing toward his feet for reinforcement
of ideas left weighted with solidarity--
:iconpo:po 0 0
there are,
a million fish
sharp-plated with rich's lust
clinging to your undertoe,
finding their way
behind knees, the
untraversed land kept
nourished with shadow's
sweat, all to bruise
so stands refuse sale--
unknowing that
picked are softest for
their wounds are prior healed.
:iconpo:po 0 0
simple breathing
you lay;
me down/
from still
i glide
a throated signal of
and we crawl
in place.
:iconpo:po 0 1
if if only if
take your last swig
gargle, spit, repeat
i\'m not waiting
you\'re closing
in on me on me
rinse your hands in
in my heart
rip me out and
let me cry cry
cry along with tides
left forced from sand/
soul enchanted/
go and come again--
i\'ll take you within my arms
and repeat.
:iconpo:po 0 0
you want
someone to tell you
all the thoughts you think should be heard
without need of
expressing them
except in dreams left \'long side
for simpler times.
for the time till then,
let your lungs stretch--
i\'ll teach you with
your lips
to our lives living left.
:iconpo:po 0 0
crying within
you can tell me what i saw were
fairy tales
lost within the mind of a
child on bent knees
waiting for his father to return--
i know the truth
i know everything you wish i\'d forget
all the lonely nights
you wish the world would stop
let you off
and continue on with you on the side
watching everyone with everyone
just to see what\'s right--
when you can\'t
even stand straight in the stalls
look around,
lean forward
trying to hide what you were never taught
so who can blame you
when you\'re the last one out--
walking along the curb
you can cry to yourself
without the headlights seeing
and not have to explain
the hour you can finally dream
of waking
without crying
:iconpo:po 0 1
sketch a shallow smile
sketch a shallow smile
between the boundaries of my
without needle nor pin
it shall stay
as a reminder of our
\"once was\"
and today\'s
\"day after\"--
beneath it
stitch a hollowed tear
along the rift of my
to replace the seasons
left weighing down my
wakened dreams of our
and yesterday\'s
pluck a deafened nerve
within the synapses of my
all that acknowledges
the drowning my
apologies recite of our
\"could have been\"
and tomorrow\'s
\"will never be\".
:iconpo:po 0 2

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Christopher Staines
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
Her poet.
I haven't been in this community for a while (actively).  I just read $spyed's ISSUE ONE - Love… and believe I belong here.
  • Listening to: The Secret of the Universe by Isaac Asimov
  • Reading: The Memory of Earth by Orson Scott Card


Add a Comment:
zombdoII Featured By Owner Jan 5, 2019  Hobbyist General Artist
Hi, I am Teddy. Once you read this you
cannot get out. Finish reading this
until it is done! As I said, I am
Teddy. I am 7 years old. I have no eyes
and blood all over my face. I am dead.
If you don't send this to at least 12
people I will come to your house at
midnight and I'll hide under your bed.
When you're asleep, I'll kill you.
Don't believe me?
Case 1:
Patty Buckles
Got this e-mail. She doesn't believe
in chain letters. Well, Foolish Patty.
She was sleeping when her TV started
flickering on and off. Now she's not
with us anymore. Ha ha patty, Ha ha!
You don't want to be like Patty, do
Case 2:
George M. Simon
Hates chain mail, but he didn't want
to die that night. He sent it to 4
people. Not good enough George. Now,
George is in a coma, we don't know if
he'll ever wake up. Ha ha George, Ha
ha! Now, do you want to be like George?
Case 3:
Valarie Tyler
She got this letter. Another chain
letter she thought. Only had 7 people
send to. Well, That night when she was
having a shower she saw bloody Mary
in the mirror. It was the BIGGEST
fright of her life. Valarie is scarred
Case 4:
Derek Minse
This is the final case I'll tell you
about. Well, Derek was a smart person.
He sent it to 12 people. Later that
day, he found a $100.00 bill on the
ground. He was premoted to head
officer at his job and his girlfriend
yes to his purposal. Now, Katie and
him are living happily ever after.The
have 2 beautiful children.
Send this to at least 12 people or
you'll face the consequences.
0 people- You will die tonight
1-6 people- you will be injured
7-11 people- you will get the biggest
fright of your life
12 and over- you are safe and will
have good fortune!
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mustafahaydar Featured By Owner May 8, 2010   Digital Artist
thanx for fav:)
foe Featured By Owner Feb 18, 2009  Professional Interface Designer
i knew it was you paleo! my favorite paleontologist in the whole wide world. :D
369Arashi963 Featured By Owner Feb 5, 2008
attila Featured By Owner Apr 26, 2007  Hobbyist Photographer
haha, sup paleo. the owner of 'deviant' logged onto the AOL for the first time in oh, 3-4 years to take his name back. Still using 'Scheme' :)
RikusNobody Featured By Owner Apr 21, 2007
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