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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.
This Day Is...
A day to love,
Someone up above.
A day to commemorate;
A day to appreciate.
A day to reminisce;
A day when someone special is missed.
A day that’s too good to be true,
A day filled with many memories of you.
A day just to say,
I wish you a happy birthday.
What s in a name.What´s in a name?
It´s just a word that we call,
Everything and everyone
has a name,
does it make us a better person?
No... what a shame
Does it define our characters?
No... it´s not to blame
Does it have any financial status?
No .... but maybe fame
So if you´re a rockafella, a Gates,
a Trump or even the Queen
It doesn´t matter
shout your name
I am who I am
and I have a name
cos deep down inside
we´re all just the same.
by Suzanne Karbach August 2014
ParthenopeTurn your head from distant island,
from sandy shore and crystal sea.
Resist the call of the lonely siren
singing death on the horizon.
Beware her song; listen to me;
turn your head from distant island,
where dwells a daughter of Poseidon
yearning, singing a magical decree;
resist the call of the lonely siren.
Rest your eyes up Orion,
the stars will guard your constancy.
Turn your head from distant island
as our ship sets sail to widen
ourselves from that mermaid key;
resist the call of the lonely siren,
her seaweed hair fraught with diamond
treasures stolen from that deadly reef.
Turn your head from distant island;
resist the call of the lonely siren.
Keys of the PassengerImposing figure
Why do you linger with me here?
A gestured feature
As soft as flowers by
While on my way to reach her
The tarnished silver
Green like the finger I lost
That let my colours
Grow like the flutters in my heart
But take to flight
Out of a viewing standpoint
Breeze by to keep her in sight
A whirring wheel
Below the heel I have down
Does not derail
Wherever hail your address
Ignore and follow
Until my feet fall under
The tears that match my sorrow
With quiet clatter that drowns me
The lanes are melting
My path respecting none a plea
I hear her calling
But over that your silence
A weight's abjection falling
Why do you torture this road?
I travel worried
Because you stay at my right
...I will fight
A desperate race to pry free
The glass is speckled
From threats and heckled terms met
No word is spoken
An air unbroken but intense
A rider chauffeured
The holder of the key ring
So deals I
Darkening SkiesCrystal blue skies was once visible
In a world without anything formidable.
Opponents were partners and villains weren’t wicked;
No crimes had been committed.
But through the years the blue skies began dimming;
The end was now the beginning.
The skies had darkened by malevolence
As the crystal pieces broke away the benevolence.
Shards of glass rained from these falling skies.
Lives were easily taken and it was sounded by cries.
Battles were fought; blood was shed.
What was once peaceful had become dead —
Innocence was no longer carried;
They had a shovel and it was buried.
Tyranny exiled happiness.
War left people defenseless,
Stranded to fight alone without anything.
Cruelty had killed them before the ending.
Their worst fears had crippled them.
Breathless, lying still, eyes toward the sky: they’re condemned.
Forced to watch the ashes of loved one fill the clouds
With embers cascading down as the sirens grew loud;
Souls flickering within the dust.
From the pressure o
ShorelineBetrothed to flaw
To the choice before choice
Where there is only emotion
And a half-remembered voice
Telling what one saw
First line of foamy wake
Loud and churned from behind
There sent upon a seething land
What comes before the blind
As action without mistake
Parts of the watch
A spring or gear or hand
Drowning in responsive steps
Their time is harried by swirling sand
Its face imperfect lie staunch
As islands shape the water
It sends providence unchecked
The first passage of philosophy
Contained of following specks
That grow until all is overturned
Conjoined by the timepiece
Fixed into a broken state
They suffer in each other
First blows harsh to take
Fueled from accosted belief
Let Me OutHeart and mind racing,
still pacing my cage.
each step just to gauge
the odds that I might
get through this in one piece.
Too tired to fight,
yet unable to cease.
I stared at her, as she stared at me,
She wasn't quite what I expected her to be.
I imagined she would be pretty,
I dreamt that she was smart,
I thought she would be popular
And have a golden heart.
I thought she would be tall
And that she would be cool,
I hoped that she would be talkative
And that she'd fit in at school.
Instead she is clumsy
And really quite plain,
She's a little on the short side
And much prefers the rain.
She only has a few close friends
And is otherwise quite shy.
Her golden heart is more like brass
And it's easy to make her cry.
But despite my expectations, I really have to say
That I really wouldn't have myself be any other way.
TnM - Un BrindisThomas Pov
Era el día más feliz de mi vida, me había casado con el amor de mi vida, aun con las dificultades, con los miedos, por la sociedad y demás cosas que nos podía separarnos, con mí ahora esposa Marie estaba en el punto del brindis, su padre entre lágrimas y sollozos de felicidad nos dijo lo que nos deseaba a mí y a Marie, siguieron Jazz, Xavier, Fred, Amanda e incluso Dezz quien es muy tímida, la hora del brindis se acababa
- ¿Puedo hacer un brindis? – comento de pronto la pelinegra caminando a la mesa en donde se encontraban todos
- Claro que si Am, puedes hacerlo – respondí feliz ante mi amiga
La que había aparecido en un sueño aún antes de conocerla, se veía bien con un vestido azul con brillos largo con escote muy sensual propio de ella
- Bueno – empezó cogiendo una copa de vino tinto – Estamos aquí celebrando la boda de unos de mis mejores amigos, quienes lucharon m
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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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