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About Traditional Art / Artist Richard EvansMale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 10 Years
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Series of Thoughts 6
detached and numb fingers
wired to a tongue
empty of words and stained with alcohol,
is this what i am?
my head lain on the arm rest,
quietly smiling to myself,
and telling you how pretty you look.
:iconroom462:room462 12 6
Series of Thoughts 5
invention owns a cage,
rested within
it's particles sleep,
it seems as of recently,
ignorance is my pestilence
reckoning with deranged words
and sadistic compliance
books no longer read,
words no longer speak,
intelligence resents the wells
i have excavated into the depths of my head.
perhaps the artist can show you how i feel
or perhaps he has nothing to show
:iconroom462:room462 7 6
Series of Thoughts 4
how much of my life have I buried under my salt stained skin,
and how much more until I begin to burst at the seams,
My insides will paint the world with the most beautiful colors,
and the adorable, innocent little constructions of my imagination will make you all smile...
:iconroom462:room462 10 7
Series of Thoughts 3
I am disgusted by the repulsive fun of my generation.
The degrading level of human nature is at it's finest, and self respect is no longer accompanied by ladies and gentleman.
:iconroom462:room462 9 4
Series of Thoughts 2
Even a calm
and soft pillows
can't stop a train
what makes you think
words and bullets can?
:iconroom462:room462 8 9
the Mr. Rose bridge
and my darling bridge walked by cane and top hat,
the corner of his eye sought for an instance of heart,
by a young girl in a yellow dress,
a young boy in overalls,
sitting on the bridge.
questioning love,
trying kisses,
and dangling their feet into the water below.
now a spectacle of void,
as the tears fall from the eye.
it is not his bridge to cry on.
it is not his bridge.
bridges aren't for old men.
western films, slippers, and the Mississippi River are for old men.
:iconroom462:room462 5 16
Series of Thoughts 1
If black and white were at all meticulous,
our words would lose motion.
only synonymous and colorless pictures could mold our skin.
:iconroom462:room462 6 4
And We the gods Prayed..., p1
One hand reaches up from behind the country horizon, pulling the evening sun down into the empty fields. The other reaches gently around the earth, pushing the night up past the clouds.  Our faces reflect against the lateral ocean as the rocks beneath break into sand against a soft tide.  This is our solace.  And slowly we watch heaven turn from blue, to red, to black, and all the angels come out of hiding and remind us that they are still appraising our quality of life.  From the calm night, perhaps they think we are worth keeping alive.
So for the evening,
We can forget,
And we can rest,
Even at opposite ends of this flat earth,
But Thank god we are not,
You are my best friend and I love you,
We fall asleep together.
Good morning.
Our golden eyes ready for slavery, we walk outside.  The morning sun shines through her blonde hair as it cedes to the wind.  The angels are back to hiding behind the clouds in god's vast ocean.
:iconroom462:room462 7 10
Pragmatism not Idealism
Numbers not Words,
Workers not Artists,
Slaves not Humans,
:iconroom462:room462 7 5
these letters
    repetition of
               -streaming from the keyboard!
and myself
                 the culprit, my finger prints
                  on the keys,  
please police,
my words were meant more to be like a sewing machine
but the distance between
      us two
      has grown further
and a thread sewn through thread, simple
and characters grouped together in such a fashion,
that the cops
        think i had scissors in hand, when
the world fell
:iconroom462:room462 8 17
We weren't designed to speak letters and organize our thought process,
grouping our being into idealistic concepts and paraphrased emotions to conventionalize human sociology,
contracting our bodies into sensual recognition and filtering out our feelings with intangible grids of words-
-where we look down a list of colors and pick one that closest suits our hearts, eyes, and ears.
I think the function that we have become is far from expressive and closer to mechanical,
we function as robots, not animals,
the system that has made me has failed.
No color,
sequence of words,
equation of numbers,
musical aspiration,
modern ballet,
nor graphic illustration can REALLY express what i feel existing inside of me,
We were not made to live in a mathematic political pragmatism,
maybe its our desire to understand that constructs our cages and locks,
or maybe even simple animals with no intent for conceptual realization feel confined to what we really are.
Call it our s
:iconroom462:room462 11 20
Two Hands and a Battery
The Clock on My Wall Won't Stop,
It is Ruining My Day.
:iconroom462:room462 4 22
Soft River,
Green Rolling Hills,
Grape Vineyards,
Terraced for Miles,
Blue Sky-
-Stealing our Eyes.
Hours on the Rhine River.
Listening to Music
and Each Other,
Until 2 A.M.
Night Sky-
-Stealing our Hearts
:iconroom462:room462 7 29
Words are Like Vodka
words are becoming expensive,
i used to be satisfied,
but i'm not,
words don't seem like enough,
i need something more
:iconroom462:room462 7 12
Girlf Friend.
sometimes i write letters to my girlfriend with a crayon.
i try to draw cute pictures like animals of sorts,
i try to call her on the telephone,
but she never answers.
she never writes back,
and never talks about my cute animals.
i dont understand,
my math teacher told me when i dont understand i should use a calculator to check my work.
so here i sit with a calculator.
plugging numbers in like crazy, symbols iv never seen.
hours pass
i still dont understand.
my mom says that she probably doesnt respond, or ever want to talk to me, because i dont have a girlfriend.
i thought i did.
oh well
:iconroom462:room462 7 43
robots are just verbosity
you're no different from the decadent plastic notions sewn into my eyes
enraptured by novels that fill my bed when im not looking,
i thought that if i could dig a hole,
i might find you.
im no different from the fabricated machines glued to your heart
fashioned for calling god and reading books trying to restructure my mechanics,
i thought that if you went to the garden,
you might find me.
:iconroom462:room462 17 44


They Build Buildings So Tall by Guillotine101 They Build Buildings So Tall :iconguillotine101:Guillotine101 4 7
I was once...
One by one
I sold my daughters
on the wind.
I was left
a barren, broken
when he kisses
my memories
I am beautiful.
:iconmahi-fish:Mahi-Fish 18 33
forgotten room
Years of coffee
Soaked into this room
no longer smelling
like fresh roasted joy
but memories recurring
from a brick bound past
'cause foul stench
brings not sordid gloom
train whistles beloved
chalkboard up center
if remotely close,
a white dust cough provoked
as you stare into sunlight
and squint both eyes so tight
to peak a glimpse at the face
the face thats readily right
wisdom peers through
windows that let in not
sunlight, but love understood
from dark drink stained everything
those eyes knowledge implore
but these faces are strangers
the eyes are not bright
the windows are shut
the wall before me,
a clean, pure, white slate
and words flow 'bought wars and funds
not silence and understanding
the speach of mike cantlon
:icona-trace451:a-trace451 2 3
First Tanka
swans nuzzling
Lake Geneva -
thrown stones
save them
:iconmahi-fish:Mahi-Fish 5 61
driving by finiteinfinite driving :iconfiniteinfinite:finiteinfinite 1 5
The Good in Life
I used to know the good in life,
It was all wrapped up into one man,
I knew him for nearly seventeen years,
When I was scared he held my hand.
When I was little I'd ride around on his shoulders,
I was his baby girl,
We watched football and played cards,
He was the center of my world.
He used to wink at me,
Before I went to bed,
Half an hour later, he'd get me from my room,
And a banana split would be waiting for me in the kitchen.
That man saved lives,
He was in the military as long as I can remember,
I would salute him everyday,
And when he went under way, every day I sent him a letter.
I used to know the good in life,
But it all went away,
The day my father left me,
Was the day my smiles were taken.
:iconellablack:EllaBlack 2 11
Playing Horse outside.
"Haha you're a Horse!" He says.
So what? You're a Ho.
:iconpiano-girl234:Piano-Girl234 7 26
I'm Yours
B e n d
:iconksmsoccer89:ksmsoccer89 13 64
Splits Follow Mergers
I am linguistically agnostic
alpha voice must be on both sides of the rule
many voiced were devoiced
soon we'll only be left with euphemisms
the trend is towards ease of articulation
linguistic incest
we're running out of words that don't mean retard
actually trade is euphemism for slavery
not history, but genealogy
they stole our method
but the ones at Wal-Mart don't work too well
if you wanted to say 'man-pig' in Manam
all instances are borrowings
we're living Lord of the Flies right now
these types of changes are consistent across time
I speak kitchen linguistics
I need you at lunch to help translate
twinkies, McDonald's fries...
I roll with tortillas myself
the three languages in the taco grande region seem to have had contact
alphabet soup with IPA symbols
I saw through mountains all the time
But aren't trees being constantly redrawn depending on who does the work?
           T. Scott Fisher
:iconmahi-fish:Mahi-Fish 11 63
My Red Balloon
Le balloon rouge  
99 luftballoons
What is it about
This ball of latex
So inspired?
Found floating through
The sky
A spot of crimson
Against the vast ocean
Of a life
Just like a bit of magic
The rabbit in the hat
A secret yet to be exposed
Until the grand finale
Encore! Encore!
It’s almost like a dream
Not quite lucid
Stuck in liminality
Languidly adrift across the
Vast confines of this mind.
:iconash4love:ash4love 7 14
Music and Excitement
Music and Excitement
With slow and mournful voice,
The Bassoon calls to its fellow friends
As the timpani sounds out a heartbeat.
The Oboe, Flute and Saxophone
Sing to one another in clear fluid voice
The Cello replies as the Double Bass fills in  
Music surpasses the raw passion of desire;
The twang of a cord echoing a heart string,
The mournful note from the trumpet
Sounds out the memory of chance encounters.
Then the rapid high pitched notes of the piccolo
Underline loves spontaneous, impulsive excitement.
:iconsimply-simon:Simply-Simon 11 22
now I want to paint
butterflies like
glitter across
name you
the great
being. Come,
invite you
in, let you
my cheeks,
my toilet. You,
king Raaja
the great
cat. Come,
let me be
saliva bandages,
gauze and
our lines
were meant
to be drunk-
en sailors,
instead small
camel humps.
we fall
S.O.S. or lost
at sea. Dead
by thirst. Last
moments not
aircraft bombers
and solitude,
but the ridges
of a pruned
the island
fever. You are
M.I.A. -
minus I.
and this is,
this is
unsurprising. Day
Bright considers
by coconut,
thinks he's clever -
leaves a note
next to his human fur.
It can be admired
as it suffocates
a sea turtle nest
You return
with blood
in your cavities
in feral hands
in three dead rodents
presented up,
like uplifted roots.
I devour
the four -
not gonna
them strays
:iconaadea:Aadea 7 25



Richard Evans
Artist | Traditional Art
United States

Favourite genre of music: indie
Favourite photographer: benisa
Favourite style of art: pop art
Operating System: vista
MP3 player of choice: ipod
Wallpaper of choice: faded yellow and peeling, slightly stained
Skin of choice: mine?
Personal Quote: this is who i am. here i stand, now take me
Have you ever been touched by an experience?
and it effected you so much. you were just overwhelmed with emotions,
but you never really quite knew how to write it down.
and you never really knew what to do with yourself.
  • Listening to: postal service
  • Eating: nothing
  • Drinking: no


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XxPleuniexX Featured By Owner Nov 3, 2010
It's been a while since I've been in deviantart. You're still active? I noticed you're favourite movie at once! Coraline! I just watched it yesterday AGAIN!
It's a great film:D

The13thOctober Featured By Owner Aug 23, 2010
I miss you. Your work was so beautiful. Every time I go back through your gallery I feel richer and poorer.
goingINSANE Featured By Owner Dec 24, 2009
KneelingGlory Featured By Owner Sep 11, 2009
Hi! :wave: Thanks for the watch! :aww:
NyoSphere Featured By Owner Sep 6, 2009
Thanks for the watch!!!!!!!!!
nakedzen Featured By Owner Aug 8, 2009  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the watch! It means a lot. I love your writing :D
JSIPS Featured By Owner Aug 6, 2009   Writer
Richard! Hey! I'm back on Deviant! Yippee right??!!?!
Learn-to-Love-12 Featured By Owner Jul 25, 2009
Thank you very much for the fave!
mrjans Featured By Owner Jul 9, 2009
Hi! You've been featured in *helping-the-unknown's news article: [link] :)
Mahi-Fish Featured By Owner Jun 29, 2009
Hope you are doing well. :)
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