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Drop

D

Drop

Oh, if only you could see, What it is like to be me! Rushing, speeding, fast I go, Getting faster down below. Life is brief, but oh, such fun, So its thrills should not be shun. Please, take it in, and do not fear, Although the end may be near, Do not wait, and do not stop,Come with me and take the

Glass Breaks

G

Glass Breaks

Have you ever shattered glass looked into its scattered mass? It’s quite the sight you should see, what, with all its reflection, you may feel some connection. Maybe not, but as for me, it gives me some direction, gleaming shards setting me free. Is that how you wish to be? To be fragile is daunting, and even rather haunting. But do not fear, lovely one, though you have faced rejection I am here with affection. Soon you’ll see just how much fun, when under my protection, you’ll have away from the sun. Please. There is no need to run. Splayed on the ground life seems hard. But sharpened… I’m now the shard. The

Creeping

C

Creeping

Oh now how lovely you are, Here in the luminous moonlight. I wish to stay with you here, From the dawn until glim twilight. And though words are not enough, For you this soft song I do write. Within the star-blesséd night’s breeze, Your beauty’s elegant sweeping. My love, I’d do all that you please, My passion upwardly creeping. Should we part I’d fall to my knees, Lost there forever weeping. Sweet lashes they brush me so, Bringing my love to a new height. Your touch, it uplifts my soul, It dances in air like a kite. I know that you feel the same, Conjoining in amourous flight. You brushed off my jilted heart Y

Alice McClintock

A

Alice McClintock

Do not tarry long when traveling here, But stay with the throng, within our safe sphere. For out all around are foul, wretched hobs, the dangers abound, and thus it’s our jobs To keep you all well. But now one small dollop, of a message to tell, and no mere gossip. A fact that is true. She preys on the meek, This witch of the bog. All those who are new should heed us the most: This warning to you, from our Feathered Coast. To any who seek Arcadia's edge The Lost and the freak who tread in the Hedge, Beware of the slog, through darkness that's pitch, For out in the fog: a dastardly witch. She, who without song, From cover of cowl, Str

Night at the Disco

N

Night at the Disco

Billowing, like the dust under stage light, the fuming steam dances across the room, delivering scented whispers of warmth. It flows, riding the waves as it enters with burning energy, leaving the spiced footprints behind on the tongue, and, as if by string, pulls a smile on the lips. It flows and rushes through the veins, a glittering spark to the mind. And all about, the low quakes from the speakers, dancing notes throw a jubilee in the ears. They’re sweet like fresh fruits, sustaining the mind’s eye. Peering from one’s true eyes, creations no less sweet greet the orbs, color, lines, sweeping all along the walls, the tabl

Kiwi's Arrival

K

Kiwi's Arrival

And thus, the Kiwi bird did say, “Here I am at last, USA!” “Glad you made it,” said Bald Eagle, “with all your papers, nice and legal!” “I’m just glad to finally land, once again on the ground stand. New Zealand is so far away, but now I’m here, and here to stay!” Confused, Bald Eagle cocked his head. “Excuse me, repeat what you said, ‘cause your accent is alien. I’m not used to Australian.” Blinking, Kiwi held her temper. “Of that place, I’m not a member,” she said, hoping to bring some sense, hoped Eagle would give recompense. He la

The Pidgey

T

The Pidgey

There we were, on Route 29, bruised, broken, just not feeling fine, And with many kilometers ahead, much more travel to go, We softly trod through tall grasses, where sentret had kicked our asses. Yet worse though were the mad masses, constantly pushing to explore, Calling out in my head, a concern I had no time to explore, Though I wanted nothing more. They had hounded me all the while, on the day I got Totodile, With so many demanding I “Start,” yet bringing me pause galore. Always, “Up,” “Down,” “Left,” “Right,” “A,” “B,” when not demanding “Anarchy!

Secret Santa - Off The Trod

S

Secret Santa - Off The Trod

Past whimsical woods and starlight sea, Let down your guard; come hither to me, And I will reveal to the degree How grand it is Forever can be, Where all is lovely, past the green. With wonders beyond all you’ve seen, Behind the Hedge’s vine-whipped screen, And with it a gift: your true mien. Do not deny thy desire, Lest you want to earn my ire: You’ll be wrapped in brambled briar, And dragged back to my Fae spire. Don’t resist, you are mine, For with blood you did sign. So come, and with me shine, In a land so divine. Your flesh shall adorn Each and ev’ry Thorn, Skin and frail soul torn, All to be reborn. N

Stream of Dream

S

Stream of Dream

The dreamer lies, comfy in bed. All wrapped in her blanket burrow, warm and soft. Perhaps, not quite, an interesting sight (unless, of course, you’re the beer-blasted blond) from without...but within, beneath the raven mane, there are lavish lands that stretch many miles (or copious kilometers, if you’d rather), seas stretching for centuries, where one’s whims wills anything and everything to life; the dreaming wanderer’s world of her own. Living, long, limb-like hair, bouncing boob butterflies; skipping stones in the sky, Floating freely, never falling; things to see, things to do, reveling in the rapturous realm. Sl

O' Little Dreamer

O

O' Little Dreamer

O’ little dreamer, dream of what you will. Dream what you like, till you’ve had your fill. Your friends are many, here inside your head. So why would you wake, leave your humble bed? Is it for the day, for the shining sun? Or to stretch your legs, maybe have a run? Is it not enough, what you feel in here? Why do all your dreams have a girl with beer? Why yes, that is why; for the blond who roams, seeking out others, sleeping in their homes. This one who is wild, keeping you awake, once thought a nuisance, more than you could take. But now you embrace, this boisterous blond, holding her so close, in a special bond. Then ther
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Drop

D

Drop

Oh, if only you could see, What it is like to be me! Rushing, speeding, fast I go, Getting faster down below. Life is brief, but oh, such fun, So its thrills should not be shun. Please, take it in, and do not fear, Although the end may be near, Do not wait, and do not stop,Come with me and take the

Glass Breaks

G

Glass Breaks

Have you ever shattered glass looked into its scattered mass? It’s quite the sight you should see, what, with all its reflection, you may feel some connection. Maybe not, but as for me, it gives me some direction, gleaming shards setting me free. Is that how you wish to be? To be fragile is daunting, and even rather haunting. But do not fear, lovely one, though you have faced rejection I am here with affection. Soon you’ll see just how much fun, when under my protection, you’ll have away from the sun. Please. There is no need to run. Splayed on the ground life seems hard. But sharpened… I’m now the shard. The

Creeping

C

Creeping

Oh now how lovely you are, Here in the luminous moonlight. I wish to stay with you here, From the dawn until glim twilight. And though words are not enough, For you this soft song I do write. Within the star-blesséd night’s breeze, Your beauty’s elegant sweeping. My love, I’d do all that you please, My passion upwardly creeping. Should we part I’d fall to my knees, Lost there forever weeping. Sweet lashes they brush me so, Bringing my love to a new height. Your touch, it uplifts my soul, It dances in air like a kite. I know that you feel the same, Conjoining in amourous flight. You brushed off my jilted heart Y

Alice McClintock

A

Alice McClintock

Do not tarry long when traveling here, But stay with the throng, within our safe sphere. For out all around are foul, wretched hobs, the dangers abound, and thus it’s our jobs To keep you all well. But now one small dollop, of a message to tell, and no mere gossip. A fact that is true. She preys on the meek, This witch of the bog. All those who are new should heed us the most: This warning to you, from our Feathered Coast. To any who seek Arcadia's edge The Lost and the freak who tread in the Hedge, Beware of the slog, through darkness that's pitch, For out in the fog: a dastardly witch. She, who without song, From cover of cowl, Str

Night at the Disco

N

Night at the Disco

Billowing, like the dust under stage light, the fuming steam dances across the room, delivering scented whispers of warmth. It flows, riding the waves as it enters with burning energy, leaving the spiced footprints behind on the tongue, and, as if by string, pulls a smile on the lips. It flows and rushes through the veins, a glittering spark to the mind. And all about, the low quakes from the speakers, dancing notes throw a jubilee in the ears. They’re sweet like fresh fruits, sustaining the mind’s eye. Peering from one’s true eyes, creations no less sweet greet the orbs, color, lines, sweeping all along the walls, the tabl

Kiwi's Arrival

K

Kiwi's Arrival

And thus, the Kiwi bird did say, “Here I am at last, USA!” “Glad you made it,” said Bald Eagle, “with all your papers, nice and legal!” “I’m just glad to finally land, once again on the ground stand. New Zealand is so far away, but now I’m here, and here to stay!” Confused, Bald Eagle cocked his head. “Excuse me, repeat what you said, ‘cause your accent is alien. I’m not used to Australian.” Blinking, Kiwi held her temper. “Of that place, I’m not a member,” she said, hoping to bring some sense, hoped Eagle would give recompense. He la

The Pidgey

T

The Pidgey

There we were, on Route 29, bruised, broken, just not feeling fine, And with many kilometers ahead, much more travel to go, We softly trod through tall grasses, where sentret had kicked our asses. Yet worse though were the mad masses, constantly pushing to explore, Calling out in my head, a concern I had no time to explore, Though I wanted nothing more. They had hounded me all the while, on the day I got Totodile, With so many demanding I “Start,” yet bringing me pause galore. Always, “Up,” “Down,” “Left,” “Right,” “A,” “B,” when not demanding “Anarchy!

Stream of Dream

S

Stream of Dream

The dreamer lies, comfy in bed. All wrapped in her blanket burrow, warm and soft. Perhaps, not quite, an interesting sight (unless, of course, you’re the beer-blasted blond) from without...but within, beneath the raven mane, there are lavish lands that stretch many miles (or copious kilometers, if you’d rather), seas stretching for centuries, where one’s whims wills anything and everything to life; the dreaming wanderer’s world of her own. Living, long, limb-like hair, bouncing boob butterflies; skipping stones in the sky, Floating freely, never falling; things to see, things to do, reveling in the rapturous realm. Sl

O' Little Dreamer

O

O' Little Dreamer

O’ little dreamer, dream of what you will. Dream what you like, till you’ve had your fill. Your friends are many, here inside your head. So why would you wake, leave your humble bed? Is it for the day, for the shining sun? Or to stretch your legs, maybe have a run? Is it not enough, what you feel in here? Why do all your dreams have a girl with beer? Why yes, that is why; for the blond who roams, seeking out others, sleeping in their homes. This one who is wild, keeping you awake, once thought a nuisance, more than you could take. But now you embrace, this boisterous blond, holding her so close, in a special bond. Then ther

Petra Zaal

Spotlight

Death Jogs at Noon

D

Death Jogs at Noon

 I was running very well, considering I had a foot-long piece of glass in my chest.  There was a message that needed delivering, and not even Death was about to stop me.  I just wished I could get its guttural muttering to stop coming from the left earbud, still jammed in my canal. "You know, you're pretty spritely for a dead man.  I mean, after that Prius nailed your bike and introduced its windshield to your face, I thought you'd be an easy one.  Come on, why don't ya relax?  I promise the pain will go away." "I thought dead men didn't feel pain," I chirped back, uncomfortably aware that I truly wasn't in agony. "Not from your chest,"
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Artist // Hobbyist // Literature
  • May 28
  • United States
  • Deviant for 14 years
  • He / Him
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Super Llama: Llamas are awesome! (29)
Hey, we're all on an art site. We all like art, right? Then check out my bad ass art friend's, :iconJack-Kaiser:'s Patreon! https://www.patreon.com/JackKaiser?ty=h
Okay, so, remember this NaNoWriMo thing I've pulled off the past two years? well, there's apparently a NaPOWriMo as well. I only noticed it just as it ended/was ending last year, but saed the site to do it this year! ... So, I'm behind by nearly half...

NaNoWriMo...how'd I do?

NaNoWriMo...how'd I do?

Bleh. Meant to put this up yesterday. Stupid sickness... Well, after hitting par halfway through National Novel Writing Month, I really fell behind. Between work, doubts, and other things that kept popping up, I only managed 6,083 words in the following 10 days. In other words, I was 10,583 words behind, and needed 18,917 words to hit the goal of 50K. Yeah...with Black Friday looming ahead, and 4 of the last 5 days being workdays, that was pretty much it. Still, when it came to some things that kept my word count down,I wasn't real upset. After all, I really helped a friend in trouble during much of it, and that's more important than NaNoWr

Comments 258

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ScarledianHobbyist Digital Artist
Happy Birthday! :cake:
Tiki-The-TrollHobbyist Writer
Thank you much x 2!
ScarledianHobbyist Digital Artist
\o/ I hope you had fun
ScarledianHobbyist Digital Artist
Happy Birthday!
MizthHobbyist General Artist
Once again thanks for :+fav:ing!! :):)
Tiki-The-TrollHobbyist Writer
No worries, sir. :D
MizthHobbyist General Artist
Thanks again for +faving another of my works!! w00t! :-) (Smile):-) (Smile)