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Valentines Day ChallengeThere are no songs that I could sing
above a whisper's pitch,
no tone or sound to match
the humming bird flutter of your breathing.
The feather of your sleep, dances on your lashes;
the soft smile
warmer than down across my chest. I place
a single kiss, upon your sleeping breast. I watch
your lips part at my affectionate intrusion.
In silence like a dreaming bird, I listen.
SorrowI feel it. Water, salty to the tongue, fills up the cup
cut into the space in the hollow below my sternum.
It fills to the brim, flowing from nowhere, and overflowing
it spills into and over my veins. In waves that ebb and thrust
in the canals of my nerves, the water rises to my brain. It
sinks down into my legs, buckling my knees in the force
of its weight. The tide is rising, and I am made an ocean
in the form of a man. The water trickles down from the corners
of my eyes becoming a channel for the ships of my grief
to sail out into the world that does not recognize the man
I am. An entire ocean bubbles and rolls behind my face.
A slow steady wave becomes a beast that cracks the green
glass surface of my sea. In the wash that sweeps
my sandy skin, in the sheen that shows where water once
rose, the man is lost in the wake. I break.
GnatsMy mind is buzzing like a million gnats
swarming over the fruit of my thoughts.
Though the mouth of one gnat is small,
together they feast on the flesh like the fangs
of a salivating maw. Obscuring the luscious
globe of imaginings, the zipping and zigging
waves of annoyance that no amount of
swatting at nothing, or nervously rocking
eat at me.
PebblesLittle by little the flint-stone of my soul is worn away into whatever time will make of me. Am I destined to be another pebble in a shallow stream, or a blade like those of ancient dark eyed people? Am I destined to weep at the loss of my being, or will I be honed, sharpened, a thing with a purpose? One more stone is skipped across the pond, but in the depth of the pool I find myself sinking.
It's Pretty Humid OutThe sky is layered in consuming grey,
like a balanket on a day too warm for the covers.
The patchwork sky is quilted in the cotton fluff
of the grey that stagnates the air.
I languish on a couch meant for lovers;
alone, all I have is my bare shoulders to hold.
It is not the sweat of passion that dampens the folds
of the mute brown cushions, but the stale air of inactivity
condensing on my skin.
I lay in silent stagnation, no wind to stir in me
the breath to move me into action.
Without warning, the grey quilt tears.
Rain taps on the sidewalk like fingers tap
on a pane of glass.
I am up and running,
down the stairs.
A WispShe is menthol on my tongue, minty
with flashes of green that tickles my eyes
as I fight to keep from blinking.
Her kiss burns like the cherry of a cigarette
held firmly against my quivering lips; ashes
are all that she leaves in her wake.
She rises above me, a wisp,
wrapped around my finger tips.
I have no choice, but to breathe her in.
She fills my chest in the span of every breath,
like a tide made of smoke, rising and falling. I have
no choice, but to inhale and taste her on my tongue.
The Villain (Bye Bye Mr. Nice Guy)I am desperately seeking someone to save me
Wondering where I have been going wrong
The more I allow myself to be walked over
The more I feel like it’s where I belong
Under the tread marks of your rubber soled shoe
My face has been driven in to the mud
You’ve laced my dignity with so much self doubt
What on earth have I gained from being good
I am desperately seeking something to save me
The next line to the poem of my life
Dissecting my past with clinical precision
Using a pen-shaped surgical knife
With a blade that seems to cut deeper and deeper
Each time that I am wounded or I am hurt
But maybe now is the time to put down my pen
And distribute my anger with more than words
I am desperately seeking something to save me
I feel I’m on the cusp of a rebirth
I will take centre stage and leave you in the wings
There is no more time left to rehearse
I have stiffened the sinews, I have summoned the blood
I face my fears and I’ve made a decision
I can be strong, I can
The Word Count Is NoneYou once said you’d write a poem to my mother
About how much you loved her only son
But something seems to have changed in your heart of late
And now the word count has become none
I know I am not your knight in shining armour
In fact no armour could protect me
From all the nights I have spent sitting in the dark
With no moon to light up my misery
You once said you had dreamt of the two of us
Young lovers stood knee deep in a lake
But you chose to increase the depth of the water
Before I even had a chance to wake
Now I am drowning in the dreams of your sunset
As I can't get a handle on my blues
Still I offer you my shoulders to stand on
So you can breathe but of course you refuse
You once said that you were writing me a letter
And told me to read it with a smile
But I’m not sure if I can remember how to
Since it has been such a very long while
Still I begin to read it with a hopeful heart
And each swirl of your calligraphic scrawl
Forms a butterfly that takes flight from th
Rainy DaysOn dismal ,dark and
the weather mirrors all
The grey clouds shroud
your depth of mind,
reflect the mood
you have inside,
but just as rain clouds melt,
hope`s renew in the setting sun.
Light and warmth can
for a new tomorrow.
if you get caught and you get wet
take heart remember with no regret.
After rainy days,dark,forlorn,
the sun ascends on a brand new morn.
By Suzanne karbach 31.07.2014
Without YouSoft blankets and pillows within a warm bed
A strong and sturdy roof that covers my head
A place where I teach music to one and to all
In a small little classroom or a great concert hall
A car parked in the driveway always working and fine
Puppy and kitty there to greet me by the doorway every time
Pretty flowers in the garden that bloom here and there
My children are beautiful with the laughter they share
All gathered round the table to a dinner well-prepared
Joining hands we thank the Lord for our lives that He spared
A place where we can return feeling safe, and loved too
All of these things, my dear, would mean nothing, without you.
Four EverSugar coated, and devoted
To the bright side of life.
Optimistic, and artistic
With a blessed soul and mind.
May God bless you, for breaking through
The darkest side of death.
Keep your smile clear, my precious dear
For it brightens the sky.
Winds Of TimeThe cool winds of time change from day to day
Yesterday to soon turns into tomorrow
But today is never twice the same
And in heavenly stars I search, but I have yet to find my way
Still, as time marches on, my soul can find no resting place
In the mist of this violent quake
Of many dimensions of being I lies awake
Until the hours of dark meet a brilliant day break
leaving me to, once again ponder an uncertain fate
Reading is MagicTorn away from the world
In quiet halls of my mind
Blown by white paper sails
I leave it all behind
With a free wind of words I ride
On seas deeper than I know
At the helm of imagination
You'll find me lost in long ago...
Cane's ContritionA scream of screams, torn at the seams bore likeness to a tune
A dance I danced, a stance entranced stood calling to the moon
Misguided plea did meet with she, she met with some discord
To meet my eye upon some lie ensnared upon a sword
Now in a daze, caught in the haze, impaled a deft derision
A grimaced stare stood to beware this derelict in schism
Denoted now, whilst to her brow repulsed by this attrition
But woe is me and all but he, conniving Cane's contrition.
PossibilityOne moment of action, and all futures shatter;
Outcomes collapse, and a future falls through.
One of two answers, a gamble on quanta -
Yet, left undecided, both answers ring true.
Making decisions will close off new avenues.
Making a choice will end infinite lives.
Existing in parallel, safe, unexamined;
But open the box, and just one path survives.
Is chance ever real? We make life by observing:
Existence is nothing if never perceived.
Reality falters before it is looked at:
Unwitnessed, untrusted, unseen, unbelieved.
Don't look at your future, for then you define it.
Don't open the box, for the atom decides.
In the superposition, your dreams are still possible,
Tangled in nightmares, all ticking inside.
Last to leaveThe park is dark tonight while I'm drinking,
the shadows of friends have long retreated.
Bright orange city lights tinge my thinking
Lying in the grass alone, defeated.
My bottle now empty, discarded glass,
no longer a den for spirits and mirth
sequesters the moon on the dying grass;
an icy blue light for unworthy earth.
The vodka I drank still teases my tongue
while cold night air penetrates my clothing.
Salty bitter fire between each lung
Keeps me warm from the cold of self loathing.
The park is spinning as I try to leave,
but I fall back down to my knees and heave.
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More