|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Flower KidThe cool air hit my rosy cheeks, and my eyes studied the wall of an unfamiliar gray shop. The walkway to where I was headed was filled with an icy layer and a fake flower set up welcomed me in the distance in a threatening sort of way. Like that of a cousin you’ve only met once before and they rush to you with open arms, sweat dripping down their forehead, mirroring your emotional struggle with remembering who that person is. By the time you do it’s far too late anyways, they’re already rubbing your cheeks together and saying how much you’ve grown and all you want to do is be released from the grips of the “ Cousin Kraken “. It was an annoying sort of feeling in all respects.
I stood there and opened the front door, shifting myself over to follow the commands given to me by my new boss; an old Chinese woman with far too much trust, approximately 10 children and a smile surrounded by small wrinkles that tugged at her skin like a rope. I di
A WEAKIn a week I do
Mess of sleep
Regret of choice
Slumped over in
Always spelt wrong
Fullness and comfort
I am comatose
Awake at seven
In a week I do, repeat
Curiously BaitedThomas lived on my street
For many years I saw that flop of hair
His poise and gestures returning when he saw me
And I sketched out the possibilities of him tripping
That boy, Thomas
Eyes; like that of winter
A face that only a mother could love
With his gapped teeth
Gestures to me in such a manner I did not understand
His pile was out back
And he the captain of what he called “ship”
In more so missing the letter T in replacement of P
Once invited me to join him
And my reply was ignoring
And that language was blunt
Body clutched like an angry animal
Never understanding what I meant
He’d ask and shrug his tiny shoulders
Taking strings and bits of board out back
Colouring them as if he owned the place
It was just garbage to me
But to him
And I could never understand Thomas Turnpipe
And his cardboard tugboat he called ship
And I could never understand why he tried
To make me join him
Curiosity struck me
A Child's HairThey're changing me, They're changing me!
To this I did not agree!
Today they cut my hair
scissors here and there
A fit I will give you
For a change is something new
I'm Not sitting in this chair
Not even with your glare
Not sitting to be changed
I don't need to be rearranged
A nervous chatter in my jaw
A gentle grab from your claw
and you there "You're embarrassing us"
But I NEED to put up a fuss!
Do you know how horrible that was?
Of course not, no adult does
Today they have changed me
An aspect I do not want to see
and looking through a clouded eye
Do you know what I realize?
Well, it's still there
No need for me to become mad
"It doesn't look half-bad."
A MadDear chemical imbalance
Dear sudden acts of Violence
To a Sunday morning cartoon
That lasts 'till noon
Dear fits of Impurity
To all the do's and don't's I've ever had
To every single moment mad
Dear rage like thundered nights
Dear warmth of sudden brights
To days where nothing lasts
To moments I could not grasp
An hour of sleep inside my cave
an hour of peace for I am brave
No monster am I for things I've done
Not shamed by battles I had not won
Dear ember night shade
Dear place where I laid
To that smell of calm
To the ache in my palm
I did not mean to yell
Control came fast, but fell
I chose to think instead of speak
I chose to yell and instead be weak
Dear my own embrace
I don't even like this place
Dear what you thought I'd need
You who thinks to feed
To my friends who sit and wait
To everyone who tempted fate
Dear you who was always there
Dear ones who think without care
You we're always there inside my soul
and without you I would not be whole.
The Addict, RottenHis breath like a smoking pipe
like a fresh graze of something ripe
She, a little tall
together since the fall
His nose, so cold as he kissed
His habit it won't be missed
His tone a harsh and rotten one
although she trusts what he's never done
A sleaze, an addict
With more than one to depict
She left now and won't be taken
by the habit he's forsaken
The smell of smoke too strong
She picked herself up "So long."
He is now inhabited by a fate
far worse than ones of late
She left him alone to crawl
but that didn't help or worsen him at all
I am the master of my wordI am the master of my own world
I am what I decide and do
because there is a difference in action
and sitting by
When I say something
When I write it down
There is a difference in reading it out loud
and reading it inside
There is a whole new meaning when I recite the words I have created
and when you THINK you understand them
Don't abide by the rules of structure
Don't shun me because I can't spell
What's the difference in the words
Your, You're, threw and through
They sound the same out loud
except one is Your and one is through
but the message is simple
you don't need a dictionary to speak your mind
you're what your mind speaks
and even though you sit through it all
You never threw anything away
and that is the difference in the words
because if you say it like you mean it
it must mean what you say
I am not a poet
I am no writer or speaker
I am what I want to be in the words I speak
and if you have an issue with how I present those words
Clearly you're not listening
to what Im throw
FreedomSometimes it's nice to just take a walk somewhere.
Sometimes in late day and night when the moon is out and the sun is gone or going, when the feeling of being together is gone for a moment and all you can hear is the pounding of your own heart beat.
Often times it's fine to experience something emotional, just like it's perfectly normal to never. Even as the days go by and all the people you knew grow older together with you, you haven't changed at all. The smiles, the laughs remain the same and you just accept that.
Sometimes you just take a metaphorical walk and in a single moment you're flying off into a dream world with everything you ever loved gone in a single stroke. Sometimes it's okay to be angry, smash a pumpkin in with a bat and nail something to a fence. Have you have grabbed a hammer and just smashed it so hard on the wall you felt the ground shake? Have you ever just waited for a moment in the embrace of anger and just feel great?
You are power and no one can take that f
I am a Writer because...I am a Writer because my creative juice runs dry
Because sometimes, my pages cry
A writer because I don't need to be
Never really expecting what I see
to come out on paper
So clean and so dapper
I am a writer because my characters act alone
I do not run their lives like I do my own
A writer because I don't care sometimes
Keeping up with all the correct lines
and my grammar is not the best
and I digress
I am a writer because it's better to speak
sometimes, more often I'm weak
because it's nice to be heard in letters
A writer like all the others
My stories may not be well done
but in my mind description may never come
I am a writer because I get surprised
by all the things my characters do in their lives
and I do not expect to be right
A writer because I may not want to tonight
and often when the story is done
I am a writer, because it's fun.
Master.My mind, my master.
My heart, a disaster.
Life's not going anywhere,
but it's definitely getting faster.
AmaranthineCast your dreams
To your body's tide
When your mind opens wide
All things end
Yet there's no goodbyes
From within your own eyes
JigsawI am a puzzle
Each piece is a part of my life
Its one that takes decades to finish
It doesnt happen over night.
Each piece of the puzzle contributes to who i am
But its more than an image, you see
Alone its just a simple aspect
But put it all together, and you have me
Some are small, but so dear to my heart
Others are jagged and feel like they dont fit
Some might be tough to place, but never quit
Heres to all the pieces, no matter where they are
The good times,
The bad times,
The stories for every scar.
They might seem disastrous when they fall into our lives,
But its what make me, me
One piece at a time
The pieces for passion
The ones for never giving up
The ones for falling in love with music
The ones for finding happiness in pain
For the times laughing until you cry,
Playing guitar until your fingers bleed,
For loving what you do and what it does for you,
For never questioning your beliefs
For the times you learnt the hard way,
The hardships youve came by,
The times you thought you
Denial (shadows the blackest parts of me)I am fearful to find the meaning
Of why I’ve become what I’ve become
Of what it means to be me
Still I peel off my skin
My eyes fill up with guilt
Of what I know I fear
I know what change is coming
As I tear away the layers
I surrender to the pain again
Whilst deconstructing my constructive self
My former repressed suppression
And as the memories come rushing in
I'm vulnerable and bare again
I see now why I hurt myself
Time and time again
I curse at a past I could not control
My ego laughs at me from afar
I am aware of my one true story
Wounded closure in my soul
I reach out towards the lucid lights
The ones I see outside
I now know myself enough to know
I am no longer a prisoner inside
Reverting BackFalling again from the cliffs of victory,
Reverting back to the old ways,
In such a fast pace
From our last place…
Why did it take so long for us
To realize our loneliness for good?
Maybe it is how we should
Live our lives.
No one expects a miracle to come true,
No one expects everyone to find me and you,
No one understands all that we've been through,
And no one believes in what we are going to do.
To feel for us there is no reason,
Or at least we do not know,
These winds are foreign,
Towards us they never blow.
To say goodbye to love we’re ready,
To enjoy our hearts beat slow and steady,
Away from pain, away from theft
And there are still so many colors left.
UntitledI feel my lungs collapsing
I can't stop my head from spinning.
It hurts to breathe. I'm gasping.
I can't keep it down I find myself thinning.
I can't feel my hand.
It's numbing as I no longer feel my blood circulating.
I'm so dizzy, I can't stand.
"What's wrong with me?" I ask myself as I sit there waiting.
A room so cold on a bench too high.
My legs dangle from the stool with my hands on my thigh.
A tall man enters with too white of a coat.
Asks me questions and writes them as notes.
It's a mess.
I have no strength to get out of bed.
I have to focus to be able to breathe.
I feel pressure pounding on my head.
I'm scared. I don't understand what's happening to me.
Writing at OxfordBetween the dusty pages of
drunken novellas and tragic plays,
a small ferret creeps and a young girl strays.
Enticed by a fantasy mirror and
lightly cut by a subtle blade,
the fabrics between worlds gently part
and literature is new and made.
A delicate array of alternate ideas
welded together within the parchment of a book.
Be careful how far you peer between
the never-ending lines of flowing ink.
Beware of your ever changing daemons and
ensure you don’t fall for their trick.
For they would have you think that
there is nothing more behind these shelves.
The truths they do hastily conceal as
there is more than you could ever believe.
Keep your friends closer, your enemies closer still.
You’ll never know where you may meet as
you hide behind your wandering quill.
On Wax WingsSpeak not softly
of your troubled fate
Huddled late, cross at the
Loss of doubled rates
Prostitute your sorrows
til the morrow can't come
Mind: scant and numb,
You borrowed some horrors
For you to Tell, See, Believe
Starve her beastly cheap when she's deceived,
Upheaved and ruptured,
As you yet corrupt her,
Leave her upstirred in life's broken structures
Who ever said you can see beyond the sun?
Beyond the moon, the sword, and beyond the gun?
Who ever claimed you could walk the seven seas
Through heaven's fire and through its dreaded breeze?
And thread with ease a Gordian knot at whim, known,
While playing your accordion hot with prim tones,
and prone to the thoughts of the world before you
Kneel, adore you to the core you deplore through?
Prostitute your every degradation
Blame it all off with prevarication
Declare with patience that you just can't face it
Deny your dishonesty, then embrace it
You harmed me,
Lied, defied, denied
And tried to get by
on wax wings to fly too high
A Lesson in Rhymecan I accept the establishment?
Even through a punishment
and it isn't the people who see through the glass
it's if you stay in and keep in the class
Knowledge, it isn't much to say
I have too much do in my words to pay
off my dues
cause I get to choose
How can you be butch
acting like nothing happened before
when in reality it's sharper then the chore
and I came from a family who had it rough
Through moments and singles, you understand enough?
Cause in relativity
You can't get
in my met
in my shoes
in my dues
Through the door
walk into a world you never knew before
cause' that's me
waiting on three
we need a little time for bustle
get with the ruffle
through the cuffle
I got zipped and muffled
through the house
in little time I came to you
and what did you tell me to do?
lay down and sleep
don't you peep
didn't believe the rye
this is not a book
and it's a novel, just take a look
Page through page
I got a path to go, rage
is the emotion
Keep in Touch!
scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More