|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
the scars on your shouldersthe scars on your shoulders
are braille to me, so that i
can read your skin, so that i
can know you better.
i like to listen to your heartbeat
and how it resounds differently
from mine, just so beautifully
like two songs played in tandem
to harmonise in rounds;
i like to hold your hands
and rub your back
so that maybe my love
can find its way through your pores
and seep into your blood
(never can i find the right words
to tell you just the way you feel to me)
and to think that and how i nearly missed you
makes me miss you more
every minute and mile we spend
i can't sleep with another body
in my bed,
but sleeping without you
He doesn't write poetry anymore.He doesn’t write poetry anymore,
even if he still collects it, reads it, saves it, treasures
faded verses from his wife the way connoisseurs
savor vinyl over metallic rainbows on disc.
I don’t mind not knowing, but I can’t stand not asking.
The record needle hits the groove wrong;
he stumbles over words that aren’t there,
rummaging for an answer he doesn’t really have.
He doesn’t write poetry anymore
and his confusion is strangely endearing.
But there’s a lyricism to his words that I love,
poetic lines inserted between the daily grind
of character names and who said what;
voiceless boys in white a
PocketLeftover religion in the pocket
Of my trenchcoat
A key that unlocks nothing
A penny, a scrap of paper
With half of your name
Written in black ink
A song that is usually in my head
In the shriveled carcass
Of a long-dead dream
In the pocket
Of my trenchcoat
With the lint
SurelyIt was raining
when we kissed for the first time,
for the last time.
sunk into the shrunken space
between our bodies
and divided us
like nothing could before,
like everything will
until that never again
when we will
see each other once more,
Your eyes were
that bewitching shade
of dull brown blue
with all of the light darkness
in a placid pond
around a pupil
overflowing with vacancy,
and my frowning smile.
The winter heat
fell like a rising tide
for our every breath
was another death
so black and full of life --
embracing our boiled ice skin
as we drew apart,
came together and broke free
Condemnedbeneath the beaten earth they lay,
their dreams condemned to ashes,
and our restless bodies stretch,
for forgiveness, for direction –
survivors of the abyss,
amidst wide-eye, silent soldiers –
so many dead, so many maimed,
how many graves are we standing on, today?
Life, Death And A Pork Chop SandwichAll tangled up, hard to breathe
This steel cloud day that swirls
With heat and pounding hammers
I shake in my boots and cough up
Blood, rust and damaged flesh
Waiting for the second coming
Maybe next time around there'll be
Some chance for more than this
A twisted barbed wire halo
Wrapped tight around my skull
Blinding white light aura
Swarming with flies I'm flying
To pieces, thousands of shards
Cannot be brought back together
But I will remember the summer
Of my first Chevrolet in each bit
Gleaming bits of glass in the desert
Each reflecting a different moment
Still, now, enduring until the waves
Of a new ocean sweep them away
A sister is like a soul mate;
Someone who is always there
to guide me through fate.
A sister is,
a part of childhood that I cannot erase;
A sister like you,
is one that I would never replace
because you always know how to
put a smile on my face.
I know I can depend on you
to always be there for me;
This is one hundred percent guaranteed!
I've had great memories with you
in the past;
and I hope there are many more
in the future.
Onceyour beauty lies restless behind those
hills, where you fought valiantly. and
the man you once were was brave and kind,
but now you are possessed by a passenger
of darkness, whispering words of your
the man you once were is forgotten, and
the man you are today, is only a ghost, a
shadow, of what you were before.
Pretty little things called words and dustif you weren't a hypocrite,
you'd be wrapped in the sweetest
how to engulf the ocean
with your lungs
and think of how to cup it
in your hands
your broken prayers and
still be beautiful)
dance with the gypsies
(a quake in
your hips like the thrust
and the faultlines
so, so graceful)
sing with the nymphs
it's growing old,
your throat's burning dry
like a monsoon
faltering in a desert,
be nestled in a king's arms
(oh, you precious
There’s a knife turnin in my soft parts
And heat burnin my mind on hard starts
The motors runnin but I lost the wheel
Just want it to be numb don’t wanna feel
Take two steps back and put it in park
Before I leave scarred up black marks
I need a u-turn on this highway
But can’t go back on the by-way
So look ahead, the pavement goes on
Break the rear-view mirror it’s gone
Put it in drive
And say goodbye
Let’s see how fast this bitch can fly
nightmarethe foxes are at your bedside and singing--
songs of boiling thoughts
and broken muscles.
they sneak so quiet, and
you can't quite
Lost In ConfusionMy mind is spinning without a rest
emotions whirl and twirl around
A merry-go-round gaining speed
Until the world blurrs before my eyes
What's happening? What's going on?
The simplest thought slips away
Right from my mind, fading so fast
Trying to focus, I stare and stare
Until my eyes are heavy and unclear.
I don't understand, what is going on...
Emotions rise and fall again
Within the blink of an eye
I'm crying, laughing, and depressed
A rollercoaster ride that never ends
Am I losing my mind in this ?
I try to close my eyes and rest
But the world spins me around
I feel like I am failing this test
Voices and noisies echo in my min
Puppet My tears fall,
My heart beats,
because of the
Why meI wanted sleep very badly
I tried my hardest to rest
I closed my eyes and laid there
But sleep didn’t come easy
I would doze off
And wake back up
Why me? When I know I have to be up at 3 AM.
FossilizedLiving proof of fossils alive,
and no horseshoe-crab am I.
Nor, inhabitable harsh compression of plates,
residing under humid marsh-scapes.
I mold into the walls, as chalky old coal.
But I am no mineral, no era.
I am not, Mesozoic.
Through the ages
silver, gold and heroic.
I remain a still-life; and no Iduna's apples would retain my youth
No magic fountains, or time devices, or wrist watches.
I am the machine of time.
The watcher, omnipotent, the wise.
no God am I
Somewhere, sweet tangy sap trolleys down cracked bark.
Somewhere, celestial bodies erupt unseen.
Somewhere, a abrupt breeze blows overturned bi-cycle tire
What is Life?What is life?
a question asked,
a layered mask
of fear and thought and love,
of the dove
the one that flies
as it glides on broken wings.
Oh, he sings,
and it rings
and it lingers in the air
past the fair
golden hair of a lion.
And he's cryin'
and he's livin' for the kill
and the spill,
of the blood.
A bleeding flood
past the frown
upon the face
of a women dressed in lace,
of the chase of the land
in the sand
leaping, dying all
a rusty red.
In my head,
oh the light
in the eyes of the life
always fight for the everlasting will,
makes no sence, take the pill
HelpI need help
alone in the dark
with the bodies all around me,
the rotting, tortured corpses
of my subconscious.
for the words
for idiocy spoken
for all the things lost,
all the things gone.
Fire burns inside me,
and it claws
at the fragmented final sentence
of sanity I hold.
I need help
I am lost
please... I can't see,
it's dark and dank and meaningless
there's no point to be.
I am gone
past the pit
of lost, forgotten thoughts,
of tortured souls and corpses
of cities left to rot.
Behind a window,
here I am
in a world that's not my own.
I am nothing,
just an image
of what I'm supposed to be.
I'm wandering to find the path,
looking for something I cannot find-
I'm lost and I can't find,
I cannot find my way
in this maze of thought,
I've gone too far down
in the pit that leads to nowhere
in the abyss
of smothered light.
I have gone,
I just can't see
past the sorrow,
past the fear,
in the final dying breath,
the faded light,
the silent song.
I am lost
and I'll never find the light.
Where've you gone?
I cannot see...
I'm too far away.
Not close enough,
not free enough,
I just can't find the way,
KnowledgeThe skies are set on fire
in the passion and desire,
the roads are blocked with fear.
Let me hear-
let me hear!
The birds call out my name-
oh please, do not refrain.
The birds call out my name
in the mist.
Oh the list-
list of places, list of thought,
list of all that's left to rot.
I can see past the flight
through the feathers at the fight.
I can see past the fight
of the land.
Oh I can't stand,
I can't stand!
I fall to the floor
no more, no more!
I can't see past the blaze
a fire haze
a hidden maze
oh my dear,
It's in the skies!
All the whys!
All the eyes on my soul.
They eat me whole,
The Artisan KnightHere I am, the gallant knight,
trapped in a room where I cannot fight.
Here I am silent and still,
gazing out the windowsill.
I paint the world outside my cell
dragons and demons fight as well
as the battles raging in my head
the harrowing feeling that I might be dead.
I let my brush sweep the skies,
I build a world full of whys.
Dizzily, I speckle stars
and give new life to planet Mars.
But footsteps break me from my page,
I pace inside the mental cage,
my mind is melting with my brush
its colours dulled, no longer lush.
I hear them calling out my name
but I must paint just one more frame,
dripping down across the sheet,
Shadow ManShadow Man, where are you?
Lurking in the dark.
Hidden from the eye
Shadow Man, please hear me,
I bid you no harm.
Why do you hide,
don't you see?
I hear you when you hide,
when you walk along the walls
to avoid the ones below.
I can hear you.
Do you see me?
do you hear me?
I am here.
Listen to me, friend,
one hidden in the dark.
You should not have to hide
from eyes that cannot see,
hands that cannot reach.
For, Shadow Man, I see you.
Shadow Man, I hear you.
Come to me, my friend,
Let me show you the sun.
Do you know the taste of the universe?One day, when you’re five years old and made out of fractured sunlight and mirror shards, you sat down on the bench of the MAX train. You’re dressed in your winter coat and boots that are too big and one of your parents has pulled your hat too close over your ears.
You’re sitting next to your mother, and on the other side is a man that smells like loneliness, something that you’ll later know as cigarettes and alcohol and homelessness. He’s crying quietly into the top of his jacket and you’re scared to look because you’ve never seen an adult cry.
The train ride goes on for five minutes, which is a lo
Keep in Touch!
`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More