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About Literature / Hobbyist Shehroze Ameen24/Male/Pakistan Groups :iconpoeticalcondition: PoeticalCondition
A safe place to express yourself
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Deviant for 4 Years
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Statistics 448 Deviations 28,733 Comments 50,520 Pageviews

Commissions

Poetry commissions
World-Inside-Me  Commission- The Heart of Serenity by shehrozeameen
TheGalleryOfEve Commission by shehrozeameen
ZieAwsomePrussia commission - Lirena's Exile by shehrozeameen
Kai45 Commission - For Wolfheart by shehrozeameen
Lissomer Commission by shehrozeameen
Provided are poems that I have written in different formats and using varying styles of presentation.  Each one is unique and each one has a semblance of its own.

length can vary between 8 lines and 19 lines. For epics requiring more then 19 line, I will require a detailed storyline about what you require.

themes: epics, melancholia, human nature, poetry, romanticism. No erotica. Dedications can be done. Eulogies can also be arranged.

Bear in mind that I am not a schedule driven poet. You will be notified during the drafting process, so that you can monitor the progress of the poem you commissioned from me.

I can complete one poem at a time.

Groups

:iconadepta-librica: :iconpoetrynprosewatchers: :iconthecritiquables: :iconevery-photo:

Friends

Watchers

Activity


Hey everyone! :wave:

shehrozeameen here, your friendly non-existent forum irregular whose got nothing better to do than to write a complaint. :P

So yeah, what's my complaint? Priorities.

Most, if not all, of you are aware of the US ruling to allow gay marriages. To pro-LGTBs, that means "recognition of their community status and steps towards the better". To any-LGTB, it simply means "more queer folk will come over to rule over us and bring oblivion down our throats as we know it". Either side has their reasons, points, and perspectives; also, either sides are up each other's throats because, well, because they're pro- or anti-LGTB.

My complaint is: is it really that important? Does one ruling in an industrialized country hold that much importance that even those who don't know have to join camps?

If you're pro- or anti-LGTB, sorry to force it upon you, but both will say "YES! IT IS THAT FUCKING IMPORTANT, YOU IGNORANT LITTLE SHIT!"

I have friends who are bi, or gay. Then again, I also have friends who are straight and thoroughly anti-LGTB. And they flood my facebook with their perspectives, and the only thing which comes to my mind is the complaint I just mentioned. I'm studying MPH in Hamburg, and where I live in Hamburg (Barcastrasse), I'm walking distance from the more... livelier... LGTB community. What I respect about Hamburg (and this is an observation told by analogy, by the way) is that nobody here actually gives a fuck about which community you belong to: Just live your life and try contributing to the community in a productive way (do a job, or take part in social work for the welfare of immigrants, patients suffering from Non-Communicable Diseases (cancer and heart diseases) and other vulnerable groups, be a good neighbour, and eat döner amongst other things).

And I agree.

When compared to:

Food deficit globally: faostat3.fao.org/home/E (an interactive visualization of food deficit. At present, there has been an 18.3% decrease in number of undernourished globally) and this: www.fao.org/hunger/key-message… (The key findings of the food deficit status globally).

Terrorist Attacks globally: www.start.umd.edu/gtd/globe/in… (An interactive map which shows global perspectives on terrorist attacks, and who are most affected by it)

South Sudan: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/South_Su…

Disease distribution: www.who.int/healthinfo/global_…
(The Global Burden of Disease 2004 report. As per page 20, the rising burden of cardiovascular diseases, infectious and parasitic diseases, and cancers cannot be ignored. Incidentally, non-communicable diseases account for a greater percentage of deaths - 48.4% more and 48.9% more in women when compared to communicable, maternal, perinatal, and nutritional diseases)

Child Labour:
www.ilo.org/ipec/Informationre…
(The current report on child labour globally)

Obamacare accepted: www.google.de/search?q=Obamaca…
(I hope this link works - its just a Google search of Obamacare status and how US is responding to it)

Nobel Laureate Controversies: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nobel_Pr…

Violence against women: www.unwomen.org/en/what-we-do/…

Education: www.uis.unesco.org/Education/P… and tellmaps.com/uis/literacy/ (an overview of education, globally, via an interactive map. From the link itself: 781 million adults and 126 million youths who cannot read or write a simple sentence – two-thirds of whom are women. 

Refugees: www.unhcr.org/gr14/index.xml

Amongst just the few which are global crises

We talk about the current ruling of the gay marriage ruling. :shrug:

You can't say "nobody gives a fuck" because, to be honest, we live in a very dynamic world and we really should keep this in mind when we go on our fb. The world is not going to end because of one ruling. It will take more than that.

tl;dr : There's more happening in the world than a single ruling in the US.
953 deviations
Hey everyone :wave:

I run a group called PoetrynProseWatchers, which has been around since 1 December 2013. The purpose of this group is to promote the works of writers you watch, or those poems and/or prose which you like and feel deserve recognition or support.

And its going good actually, with more info available here:  A five month feature!Well now... HELLO EVERYONE!!! :wave: :nuu:
It has been SOOO long since my last feature here on :iconpoetrynprosewatchers:, and frankly speaking, I do feel that this hiatus has paid off. I was looking at the message logs in the admin area, and I realized how much you - yes, YOU, DEAR MEMBERS - have contributed with your invitations of deviations by other poets and writers on dA. And it is amazing. A lot of works which are intriguing and full of emotions, drama, thought, thought provoking insight, depth, dedication, and all charming in their own right.
Unfortunately they got featured after five months ^^; when more works which are intriguing and full of emotions, drama, thought, thought provoking insight, depth, dedication, and all charming in their own right came over. But that's okay, because what's a feature if you don't have more works to mix it with. And so, ladies and gentlemen, I give you!!!
The works submitted by other deviants by you - YES, YOU, DEAR MEMBERS


So far, the group has over 2000 deviations which were submitted by 162 members. This group has done two themed prompts which revolved around the motto of the group itself, and they had gone out well. The group is run by me, as well as Pauper-Circumstance and JWA2277


So I figured if anyone is interested in being a part of this group, you're welcome to join :squee: . So long as you follow the core principle of this group, you're welcome to contribute.

Hope to see more of you soon. :wave: chao.
Hey everyone! :wave:

My name is Shehroze Ameen (which is also my dA name as well), and I'm a student of HAW Hamburg. if anyone of you is living here, want to meet up?

If you'd like a background about me, you can ask PuzzledHeartBox, who had come over from Belgium to meet me in person. Actually he stayed over in my apartment for four days. Please note that I'll be shifting from it to Bergedorf (I'm, at present, living in Barcastrasse 1).

Him, or Armandacyd. We met in Hamburg and also did come cycling around the Alster lake starting from Rothaus.

So... yeah, that's about it... cheers. :) if anyone's interested, we'll plan something.

deviantID

shehrozeameen
Shehroze Ameen
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Pakistan
Hi! :wave: My name is Shehroze Ameen.

I'm at present working in the following groups:

:groups: :iconpoetrynprosewatchers: - Founder - A place where all your :+fav: get exposure. Do give it a look :)

:groups: :iconpoeticalcondition: - Head of the Critique Department - send a :note: whenever if you want to apply as a critic to me, prettyflour or Michel-le-fou . For more details, see this journal: Critique Department Update: Critic Openings!EDIT: Duties of Critics have been added in this notice. Thanks fernknits for pointing that out. Appreciate it. :)
Hey Everyone! My name's shehrozeameen and I recently became the new Head of the Critique Department of PoeticalCondition.
This was an administrative decision taken by our boss RiseandBe. I'm succeeding NotenSMSK, who started the critique department. A gem of a boss honestly - punctual, very dilligent in his approach, and particular about how the department was being maintained. Suffice to say, life is more than dA in the end.
Me and NotenSMSK keep in touch outside of dA, so rest assured he's doing well and is in good health - but he's become busy post-graduation due to a job and other non-dA related exercises which require his fullest potential. It was a mutual decision from all three sides.
And thus, ladies and gentlemen, I have something big to tell all of you:
WE HAVE OPENNINGS AVAILABLE FOR NEW CRITICS! :nuu: :squee:


:groups: :iconthecritiquables: - Second in Command - a place where you get critique in exchange for critique given to members :heart: . The rules are provided in the unappreciated journal features posted every month. Come on over!

:groups: :iconevery-photo: - Co-Founder (as of 2015 Jan, the Critique department of this group has been closed).

:groups: :iconadepta-librica:

What else.... I love :dalogo:. If you need somebody to :+devwatch:, or need someone to talk to about something, :note: me. but if your serious about progressing forward, I'll do my level best to help you out in any way possible...

Looking forward to what people feel about my works :)

:facebook:: www.facebook.com/shehroze.amee…
:twitter: : twitter.com/ShehrozeAmeen̴…

:new: Hear me :blahblah: / :sing: my poems on Bandcamp or Soundcloud:

Soundcloud: soundcloud.com/shehroze-ameen
Bandcamp: shehrozeameen.bandcamp.com

I am available for commissions as well (writing mostly :pencil: ). Here's the thumb to my commission details: Commissions OpenName of commissioner: shehrozeameen :iconshehrozeameen:
Type of Commission: poetry
Number of commissions done: http://shehrozeameen.deviantart.com/gallery/44327938/commissions
    
From the commissioner:
I love writing poetry, frankly speaking. I can write a poem between 8 and 19 lines. Provided that the theme has been carefully told by the customer, I will send drafts of my progress as often as I can. I can write in both traditional and non-traditional formats.
So far as traditional are concerned, I am not particularly good with sonnets, but I have a decent assessment of syllable count. I don't follow meter. Having said that, I have written terza rimas, rub'iyaat, villanelle, ott
and its only for 20 :points: (my cut is 16 :twocents: , if you want it in real life amount).

Don't hesitate to go :typerhappy: when you wind up looking at my works :) Cheers.


shehroze ameen's Personality Type Results

:new: as of January 27th 2014

Shehroze Ameen's Personality Type Results

:new: personality test from 4q as well, February 7th 2015. www.41q.com/type.41q?p=1357765… "The Determined Realist".
Interests
Hey everyone!

Its been a while since I've been active here on dA, and boy have I a lot of works to read. But I did my best, and it was truly worth it. Incidentally, I even got featured which is always nice ;) So anyway, lets get down right to it, shall we? :dummy

Feature:


look at the mirror and fall in love at first sightgive yourself a flower
and wear your favorite
sweater
sit in a nice, quiet
little coffee shop
and meet yourself
with that first sip
of warmth
and a smile.
in the afternoon,
walk to the nearest park
and hold your hands
together
as if in a prayer
like a lover's dream,
be sweet to yourself
for once.
let the kid with the waffle cone
and his mother
stare at you for 45 seconds
while you feed the birds
hang those insecurities
by the door
or tuck them away
somewhere
in your cabinets
or drawers-
just take them off
today,
pick a hot red dress
and buy yourself
a drink for two
tonight,
mirror at one end
of the table
and your love
at the other.
Le fardeau(English version below)
Esseulée sur le toit décrépit,
Mes hurlements se sont tus, happés par l'angoisse.
Au-dessus de la sépulture d'acier, anxiogène telle l'agonie,
Les dernières lucioles s'évaporent dans l'air charbonné ; 
Je consacre mes dernières forces à me briser les os sur le béton devenu carmin 
Pour que dans ma tête arrêtent de résonner leurs plaintes obsédantes. 
Abasourdie devant les innombrables décombres, je reste plantée là
Et les épais nuages asphyxiants, sur moi,
Continuent de déverser leurs lourdes larmes.
The burden
Forsaken, on the decrepit roof,
My howls hush, caught by dread.
Above the sepulchre of steel, horrendous as a deadly agony,
The last fireflies evaporate into the sooty air;
I devote my final strength into crushing my bones on the carmin ground
So that their obsessive complaints could finally stop echoing in my h
LeftoversI hold against the sunlight
a glass of dark wine,
it's blood and supernovas -
             
          the heart you called your galaxy
          now full of dying stars
you were always mine to killTell me again about that time we dug up graves
with a shared cigarette between our teeth
and a gun tucked in my waistband
and you said “one of these days,
one of them will be mine.”
I sunk to the ground,
amongst ribbed bones and melt flesh
and hung myself around the earth
tasted it wet and stale and salty in my hungry sobs
hooked under my tongue and coiled between my teeth
and I trapped the soil between my bloody knuckles
pressed my palms flat in it and felt it crack
and I cried and said “then it better be today”
and you kneeled in front of me
– there was whiskey on your lips
the grey sunshine bitter on the tip of your mouth
and I ran my tongue along it
drank it all up and nursed from it
until all I could taste underneath
the saliva and beer and hollowed smoke
was that last breath you fed me
when I pulled the trigger.
Underbelly by SaintOfTheDragons LordMinion777 - Wade by CadaverousDingo renaissance womani'm infatuated with your hands. your fingers, your wrists, your palms. they've lost so many things in return for newborns. a young mother to words and words' words that are first generation children to the stories only you transcribe; and it is a sight to behold. in baroque fashion, you are retrospect of notebook spines and whispers, covered in blisters of blustering ink, each line cutting and sharp like scissors.
that would be the nails of your hands scratching surfaces, digging your fingers deeper into those hidden layers and i am astounded. creating mountains from mere molehills, scenes of life from the quiet moments of death is perfection in a way. it's cyclical and artistic because it is an addiction unlike that of any other drug. because unlike destroying life, you give birth everyday. every waking moment another wordchild is born and you can shape its semantics in however way you please.
i like to think of these moments as constant rebirths, whether it is for you or because of y
Don't Open. Dead Inside.To wander amid all the lost souls,
cowled in our shrouds of chemical euphoria.
A superficial haze of sunlight and happiness,
a balm in the darkness of our damnation.
Our desolation, starkly illuminates,
with the halogen brightness
of a thousand ephemeral dreams
evaporating with firework sparks.
Awakening to our wasteland reality,
cloying, even to our dulled senses,
leaving a bitter taste on our tongues.
Nothing left to us, but to escape...
To wander amid all the lost souls,
cowled in our shrouds of chemical euphoria.
A superficial haze of sunlight and happiness,
a balm in the darkness of our damnation.
The Forest Girl by seven11ART Beware Ye Who StealsA field, so cold in morning's grasp
Silenced 'cept for slithering Asp
Where turnips grow and badgers flow
Where halibuts jump and cold winds blow
I found a gremlin stealing wine
And fined him for his heinous crime
His brother Blult, who leads a cult
Was also charged within his prime
Five sparrows pecked and nipped and clawed
While a puppy blindly pawed
At their bums, like tympani drums
And added many complex sums
EntangledHe thieved my heart
within the flicker of bright stars
and carnal secrets.
Entangle me
as flames burn eternal
heartbeats go mad; unyielding.
Bottle of GlassWith a bottle of glass
I'll make it last,
And I will make you see
What you mean to me,
when you look at me
So whistfully,
And broken-
Like a china doll.
Always toking,
Always looking past them...
At your bottle of glass.
Your backless dress...
A braided tress...
I'll make your hair a mess-
As you cry and cry and cry,
Praying to god that you die,
And your tears will dry
On your dress of black.
I'll make up for what you dearly lack,
While you look at me...
Holding you close, just so close to me...
So softly...
So peacefully...
And worn.
And we will stay...
Until we fall-
My little broken china doll.
And while you wait...
And while you hold on...
I'll have gone
Out with unseeing eyes,
Holding on to another song
With another china doll.
Soul to shard
Broken hard,
Fragile pieces never last...
You know I'll down you fast
As I watch you move...
Through my bottle of glass.
Percher by Kamal-Q Connecting the DotsI've dealt in death with you. We knew the bill,
and going Dutch seemed okay. Colouring in the spaces
perhaps resolved the stasis of these outlines,
but now this painted portrait subtly repines
for life, for what small art is born of drowning faces.
Submerged beneath your throes I held a beacon,
ambling between your toes I worshipped Eve,
so saturnine, whose lips of time could not preclude
this fruit of mine. Alone at last, the senses brood
on rectitude, while nameless lovers leave.
Would you care for a lie? An explanation?
You must have your own, mine are gormless -
it was not passion, merely impassioned:
irrationally cherished, rightly rationed.
When did our days perceive this lacking
rousing spore on spore, spire and steeple?
Evoking the strange and sublime to embrace
the earliest preserver of people.
We’ve dueled with death and dice. But who can blame
the shamefully bored of rolling one too many times?
I knew the rules as they were spoken
and you let them be, bare, unbroken.
I
Just A Little DreamHer dreams were becoming more vivid each night. She didn't know how, but they were like gas escaping from an underwater fissure that had cracked open under pressure. It worried her.
Many of them started out docile enough as normal nocturnal endeavors. At some point when she had reached a deep sleep, they began to shift. The world would melt away to reveal a dome that she was trapped inside. With each ripple, it morphed and bulged. Things flickered on the walls. As she watched, she would see herself as a toddler offering her mother a toy in hopes she'd play with her. Her hair was stroked, she was kissed, and she was left alone.
Once her mother was gone, the tiny tot would waddle her way towards the staircase. Her plump legs kicked as she tried to climb, tugging at the carpet that had once been installed on the steps. Halfway through her trip, the chubby girl would have to pause to access if the climb was worth it. The bear hung limp at her side, black eyes judging or spurring her on.
Ka
The Seal of the Gate of Heresy by WingsUnchained Chaos, As Three
Every morning, waking up together, the chaos is unerring and infinite. Their love is brutal and violent and it is scorched into the surface of them: unending and intense. Late one night, with her laughter like music, she carved her name into his chest with a Stanley blade. He wore it with pride, a badge of honour, and he couldn’t understand it when the seeping incisions made all the little children cry, when he drunkenly staggered, shirtless at the motel swimming pool.
Before, he used to aimlessly bump around this city, crashing into other pointless lumps of meat, feeling nothing and desperately screaming for something more. He would drink until he was numb and he refused to accept that this was all there was, inevitably his words became blades and nothing was ever enough. He was drenched in oppressive loathing, incessantly unfulfilled, haunted with nothing but the suffering.
Together, they are a verdant garden of depravity. They are unity, waging a vengeful war. She is his weapo
Perfect - For Someone Like MeToo many times I attempted to write
A poem to you, too often I failed
Too many times the words were never right
They were just too rough and much too detailed.
There's a reason why countless love songs exist
The simple truth is, they are never enough
Because words simply fail and desist
From not sounding like a clumsy bluff
Oh, if only I knew how to say
That I know you aren't as perfect as can be
But even your flaws, they all fade away
Because you're perfect for someone like me
Too many times I made mindless mistakes
More accidents happen than I can count
I'm always gambling with far too high stakes
Yet you put up with that indebted account.
I'm not nearly as strong as others believe
My heart's too soft and self-esteem can be low
Still, somehow I'm worthy to receive
The love and support you can bestow
Oh, if only I knew how to say
That I know you aren't as perfect as can be
But even your flaws, they all fade away
Because you're perfect for someone like me
A New Beginning by smokedragon this one isn't a metaphori balance a cigarette between my teeth,
she, a trapeze artist over a netless city.
my tar-lunged mistress caresses my skin
with smoky fingers. we are dancing across
the rooftops, spinning through a death
defying tango. she is fiery temptation
and i cannot resist burning with her.
SailorI set out to test the waters
and push my limits,
but the depths were hungry,
and the limits fluid,
far too close to shore.
All the complexities,
the terror and the pain,
flooded the brain,
drowning the fact
that happiness can only rise
from deep within.
It is your own damn job
to learn how to swim.
But We Can Brighten TomorrowA candleflame flickers in the darkness,
so small, and dim, and warmthless.
Today’s faint glimmer is lost and dying out;
There’s only darkness tomorrow.
 
    I still believe in yesterday’s values,
    I still believe in heroes of old,
    but those are passed, their power is all gone;
    Their light can’t brighten tomorrow.
 
A wounded heart lies broken in the darkness,
alone, afraid, unheeded.
The cruel, cold shadows are pressing all around
a dark, forsaken tomorrow.
 
    I still believe in yesterday’s values,
    I still believe in heroes of old,
    but they can’t change the heartbreaks of today;
    Their light can’t brighten tomorrow.
     
A lonely child is weeping in the darkness,
feebly moaning in grief and loss.
No one knows about the te
Just a little drawing I'm working on. by CrypticGrin 2015 DA ID by IrrevocableFate Cyhydedd Fer SonnetClouds blocking out the stars and moon
I wonder if dawn will come soon
As each day grows ever tougher
It seems I can only suffer
Darkness dominates the hour
And I pray for spirit power
In pain I gaze upon the skies
Longing so much to become wise
Trying to keep my heart alive
To see God above do I strive
What strength would He want to give me
In the face of my destiny?
How can I survive in the black
When honest hope is what I look?
Green~Your green eyes
Need not be
Overflowing
With tortured tears.
Anders Catdom by Biotick-Dragon Magic"Magic"   Originally written 4/22/15
Animals really do talk,
You just have to speak their language.
Fairies do fly about,
But they're more malicious than you think.
Pixie Dust sure can take you places,
But too much and you're staying in the morgue.
A Prince may sweep you off your feet,
Once the Stockholm Syndrome kicks in.
Potions and Elixirs can cure any problem,
As long as they're all fictional ailments.
Magic really does exist,
As long as you're shut out enough to need it.
13 peopleThirteen people in a room, one is from heaven and another from hell.
The other eleven are somewhere in-between.
If their are only six, beware the dog!
(until the sun comes up) we'll wait here together.On the day when the rains came,
I sat down at the piano
as the windows steamed up,
condensation running like loving kisses
down my skin, pooling on the pedals.
The ceiling stretched over my head,
soft, satin sky, billowing
in the swelling of your delicate voice;
I let the light wash through me,
wine through water, until the last
blast of solar wind called my name;
but home was nowhere I could find.
I heard my kneecaps crack as they hit the floor,
decaying at your feet,
a cruel echo of unvoiced prayers,
the hallelujahs that gather
around the sweet curve of your lips.
With vocal cords severed,
I choked out my adoration
against the bare, cold flagstones:
we're breathing in gospels now,
drowning in holy water that burns
like gasoline against my tongue,
against my cerebral cortex.
And as the flames faintly dip,
spill their warmth onto the carpet,
I feel the weight of you over me,
the architecture of your bones
enclose me in your homely arms
unplug me, spread my lungs out,
clear and emp
DUELI rise from bed and stretch and yawn,
Not yet dawn, I take my time to dress.
A million things run through my head,
As my wife prepares my breakfast.
I would be lying to you,
If I said I wasn't nervous.
My cause; however, is resolute,
And it only strengthens my resolve.
I rise from the table, prepared to go,
My wife hands me my coat and hat.
I kiss her cheek and walk out the door,
The cool winter air burns my lungs.
The gas lamps flicker and light my way,
And on time, I reach my destination.
The first rays of light rise from the east,
Across the field, from me, stands my foe.
‘Are you ready sir?’ he shouts at me,
‘Quite ready!’ I shout in reply.
Back to back, now, our pistols loaded,
He mutters ’Ten paces agreed?’
My heart now pounding, I reply ‘Agreed.’
We counted ten paces and turned,
A searing pain then spread through my chest.
My foe looked down on me as I lay dying,
‘Any last words?’ he asked gently.
My lungs filled with b
Autumn Outfit by World-Inside-Me House of SilenceNight can never come too soon,
even when the day runs short.
Meteors set the sky aflame,
bursting lights of multi hue.
Underneath the darkness lags,
timeless as the open stars.
All eternity lies unending,
lingering - a frozen ghost.
WINTER'S GIFTThis year the snow has fallen like magic,
mesmerizing me into a wakeful Dream,
Time is but a rhyme of filigree serenity
as Winter's frostbitten virtues draws me
outside to walk with her, under the petticoat
lamplight I see a fallen flurry of snowflakes
glitter and glow, my steps crunch the Silence
into Echoes, defrosting Winter's subtleties
into my reflection-until I am left wondering
how did the fairies fit an entire village
into a solitary snowflake? How did they
arrange the frost into a colour I can taste?
I have lost count of the eclipses that have
found a home in the renewable reservoir of my eyes...
I thought I was lost in a moonless forest
chasing the ambrosia that drips from my
diaphanous dreams, I was yearning for a scarlet
skirmish of Purity to anoint my soul before
I eavesdropped on Winter too long and my
Frozen Flame became just a frozen blur,
I always believed myself to be a fragment
of the Magic that exists unseen, I had walked
this ashen stretch of growth and change...
b
Uninvited    The storm that raged outside brought droplets of water that dashed against the glass of an apartment window like liquid bullets. Even as the city outside his apartment bathed under the rain that tumbled from the blackened clouds, a tired young man lay asleep on his sitting room sofa, his stomach rising and falling in an uninterrupted rhythm.
    His only company, a young woman about his age, lay prone on a large cushion with her head craned over a book. The hour would have passed in silence were it not for his gentle breaths, the distant thunder, and the rustle of the pages she turned as she feasted on the strings of words that gave way to cascades of paragraphs, each sentence like notes of music that could only be heard through sight. Meanwhile, the breathing of her loved one felt soothing to her ears.
    Propping herself on an elbow, she glanced over at her somnolent darling, her face lifting up into an affectionate smi
Whisper on A DreamComing to him in the mist of dreamscape
Her porcelain skin appearing delectably cool in touch
Soft and compelling in his dreamlike caressing
Silky, long blonde hair held promise of the
Shimmer of the stars, as dark amber eyes burned
Reflecting the untold depths of her passion
She was everything; she was all he ever sought
In his quest for love and perfection, desperate
For a woman like her to fill life, heart and bed
Through her whispers of her desires
He felt the darkness begin to be repelled
As she manifested herself in the reality
Of his room, rising from his satin sheets
He was drawn yet he was driven away
By the vision become flesh
She reached out her hand, in a voice soft
Called out his name in a voice that was symphonic
Its chord-like blending beyond resistance
As he granted her entrance
In a second of dreamtime she is there
Her hands moving so lightly through his hair
Her body so perfect, pressed against him in satin sheer
Called for naught but his response to make passion
He h
Early Homeboundthese Judas sitting in the lonesome pews,
saying what a blessing you were to them,
crying out the name, a sound to abuse-
never fit to touch your garment, your hem;
and the banshees cry out for the fallen,
once- a peasant, twice-  a king- thrice, for you.
the Judas words gossamer as pollen
from those who never knew you like I do
"We're gonna miss her soul" they cry aloud
though knowing not the offense of the sound
speak of kingdom come on a higher cloud
sixteen years of hell; six feet in the ground
and they say you're to heaven to meet kings
you're only going home on early wings
Flick by TinyBlueCat Flower Gift by TheGalleryOfEve Synapse to SynapseAs hands connect, flesh to flesh, synapse to synapse.
Eyes intercept eager glances, as the twinkling little stars dance.
Mouths curl, necks bend forward leaning in for a kiss.
Endorphins run amok, causing chemical elevation,
Tension fades, makes room for recreation.
As tongues connect, dancing in harmonious circles.
Hands move, touching unexplored places,
Clothing removed - increasing stimulation.
As eyes scan, eagerly, adventurously.
Hands connect, flesh to flesh, synapse to synapse.
Gentle utterance, mutual appreciation.
Passionate stares exchanged; hands move freely.
Exploring one and another’s body.
As heartbeat rises, adrenaline rushes.
Recreation turns into lustful anticipation.
As lips quiver, and eyes restlessly seek reconciliation.
Gentle touches assuage whatever fear,
As hands touch bare naked flesh.
Whilst they mentally prepare.
Flesh to flesh, synapse to synapse.
BrittilypuffIn the Johto region, there is a girl named Britney who has a pair of Igglybuff twins. The twins, named Gigglybiff and Gigglybuff, like to sing and dance so much, that she often gives little shows to the local populace. Many people see this show because it features dancing, singing, and other things. Unfortunately, sometimes things can go wrong before a show. This is what Britney was about to discover in the form of a rather embarrassing accident that took place backstage.
It all began when Britney got a note asking her to perform for a show.
Britney: *reads note* "Dear, Britney. My kids really like watching your shows with your Igglybuffs. That's why I was hoping you could come to my place to perform for their birthday party this weekend. If you can't attend, I understand. I hope you'll be able to come and make my kids' birthday extra special. Sincerely, John." *stops reading*
At first, Britney was a little unsure. Luckily, the Igglybuff twins were near he
Over The Bridge by darkallegiance666 Mermaid Anna by Fashionista122 desideratumtoday
the translations of you
are lost in the absence
of murmuring,
hid behind a barrier
that could shatter in
sound.
you are declarations
stuttered syllabic
and grasping, senseless,
at the blank
spaces
between intellect
and emotion.
i am half fear
and all uncertainty;
i would give everything
if asked,
but you,
you tricked me
into loving a vision.
you are a glamour,
faç(ad)e wrought
in wreckage and nude hands
ever shaking.
i falter,
pieces scattered
and dazed,
in your wake.
Tracer_02022015 by Physco-Matter don't run music scales through your hair, love,it's about time we did something about these microphones.
your tightrope wires are connected to the other end of fame,
head shrinking under a spotlight's weight
as the drums keep pounding out your melodies, unsingable.
you're so sober you want to cry.
not many people are left here now,
between the loveless sheets
you never shared.
no one saw you coming and no one watched you go,
no romance, no sentiment;
just a power hungry poet and their silent riot
crossed with a directionless voice and the power i needed.
showtime.
you know, there's still no proof against the prison prize you crave.
you have nothing but me, nothing
but the crescent moons in the attic of your brain.
"just come closer and maybe you'll surpass the dotted lines.
let me find you there, past the casted shadows,
come on,
you've gotta dream it; that's the hardest part,
singing along to medicated madness.
hearts? that's not for a while.
then, let the bass lines rip you apart,
wreck you until your voice can only be heard thro
Diablo, The Lord of Terror by blacky91 To Forgive by Spiritomb1231 Magic"Magic"   Originally written 4/22/15
Animals really do talk,
You just have to speak their language.
Fairies do fly about,
But they're more malicious than you think.
Pixie Dust sure can take you places,
But too much and you're staying in the morgue.
A Prince may sweep you off your feet,
Once the Stockholm Syndrome kicks in.
Potions and Elixirs can cure any problem,
As long as they're all fictional ailments.
Magic really does exist,
As long as you're shut out enough to need it.
13 peopleThirteen people in a room, one is from heaven and another from hell.
The other eleven are somewhere in-between.
If their are only six, beware the dog!
equinoxBeyond an ash gray skyline the sun was lying in wait. A molten liquid center with an atmosphere of blistering gasses was hidden behind winter’s cape. Spring was burrowed deep, steeping within the confines of hibernation. She dreamt of rampant flower beds, colors rioting in the wake of a new season. The awakening was gradual, the peace of deep slumber cherished and warm.
Spring stretched her arms wide
exhaled and released her heat
billowing warm wind
equinoxBeyond an ash gray skyline the sun was lying in wait. A molten liquid center with an atmosphere of blistering gasses was hidden behind winter’s cape. Spring was burrowed deep, steeping within the confines of hibernation. She dreamt of rampant flower beds, colors rioting in the wake of a new season. The awakening was gradual, the peace of deep slumber cherished and warm.
Spring stretched her arms wide
exhaled and released her heat
billowing warm wind
What You Left: A Love LetterSaying you’re happy is like saying you’re sorry; it’s nothing that I want to hear.” I stole that from a song I never knew the name of; it made me think of you.
                You asked how I was. How are you doing? You didn’t ask about the hospital. You didn’t ask why. You were vague, because you knew. You were unemotional, because you don’t care anymore—you’re happy, you’re sorry—but you don’t care.
                                I bet you wish I had died.
                                I do too.
    &
Desperation FallsShe's starring out
Into the night
Thinking she might
Just break down
Her heart aches
Her body quakes
A tear away
Before she cries
She sighs
She's holding on
Hands are thunder
She's under
Raging storm
She can't survive
Is she alive?
Echoes in her head
Bombs detonating
Gunshots resonating
Cries of ghosts
Come to haunt
Torment and taunt
Awaiting News
Alive and well
Had he fell?
She stares out
Into the night
In hopeful fright
© Jerry Langdon 2015
Rivalry"I will never lose to you,"
"Neither will I,"
They said under the sky of blue
Which was too dazzling for one eye
"I can run fast,"
"I am so much faster,"
As though there was a magic to cast
For when compared, neither's any better
"I am smarter than you,"
"Oh yeah? Then let's prove it,"
On a test, both of them got the number two
The teacher knew that sharing first place would finally blew it
The two grew older
And knew much better
Than to fight each other
Which they realized much later
But one day, they looked into the mirror
That reflected how their lives were so boring
After they stopped competing against each other
Which was the thrill of them living
They had so much in common
In preferences, strengths and even success
That on their last days
They had a competition of no less
"I would die so much earlier than you,"
No, I would die first,"
They said those words under the same sky of blue
So maybe we'll finally see whoever of them would win first
tempest temptressThe first woman was
Promethean punishment,
a way for the King
to ruin mankind
with beauty and grace.
It has always
been this way,
and it continues
because man believes it:
woman is their punishment
and her power too strong,
so she must be contained and
owned by a stronger figure
who can control and tame
the tempest she is.
Pandora is given to a man
to be owned, a possession,
but she possesses
her own jar, it is hers,
and she opens it
because it is
the only thing she has
been allowed in this world,
the opportunity to open,
and she does.
All sorrows and sins
sweep the world, and the story
goes that it was because
her husband wasn’t watching,
because she was foolish
and believed it was jewelry
or silk inside, but
she opened the jar because
it was her own,
and in a world where nothing
belongs to woman,
where woman is man’s punishment
and property to acquire,
she will open the jar
because it is the only choice
she is given.
Sonnet LXIXOp. 26, no. 9
Inquiry

By seeing farther than the eye hath shown,
Creation's wonders slowly seem to spill
Their every secret, humbling what we've known
Or thought we did, but there's the very thrill
That keeps us spellbound thinking of the hand
Which wrought such wonders through the natural law.
And so we reach in hopes to understand
The grand design his mind's eye once foresaw.
To think that processes and intervention
Combined to form the substance of the earth--
And all is not yet new--what fascination
Does he give grace to be our lifelong mirth?
This spirit intrepid that man has known:
Imago dei in his creation shown.
Second SkinThe beginning of my ending
This tale, of one so driven
Yet so lonely, bathing in the ashes
Of the millions of children
Who never truly breathed in life
Who never saw the light of day
Only the horrors dancing in shadows
Playing tricks on their desecrated minds
I hear their plaintive moans
Those desperate cries
Muffled by their exhaustion
Their lifeless eyes harbor
The pain of a thousand losses
They keep me company, on sleepless nights
Or so I keep telling myself as I lay awake
Unable to wash my hands clean
Of the crusted blood, a second skin
If only squeezing the trigger
Truly was liberating those husks
Of the burdens of tomorrow
The only telltale sign
Was the ghost of a smile
As they closed their eyes
One final time
I hear their plaintive moans
Those desperate cries
Muffled by their exhaustion
Their lifeless eyes harbor
The pain of a thousand losses
They keep me company, on sleepless nights
Or so I keep telling myself as I lay awake
Unable to wash my hands clean
Of the crusted blood, a
THE GENTLE BECKONING...The gentle beckoning called to me, into the sweetest of Nights
my spirit retreated, over the rainbow bridge I found infinite rest,
dearest beloved, do not dwell on the shadow of my soul's swift flight
or grieve without end, for with you and the love we shared I was blessed.
The hurt you feel at my passing is my only perpetual pain,
I am as whole as Eternity, shiny new again I suffer not,
how I wish you would not seek yourself to blame
for my dying, put aside these crooked thoughts.
The time had come, I could not deny my final Twilight,
please don't dwell on my struggle, my fight for dear breath,
you were with me then and I am with you now, brightly
entwined in your memory, our devoted hearts defying Death.
Nothing can unbind us, for sisters we are, soul mates forever,
though you still weep remember not my last hour's strife,
the cord between us is strong that no parting can sever
and we will one day reunite, remember this and celebrate my life.
September 15, 2011
© Jewel MoonSilve
Secrethonesty
i’ve hidden it so well
it’s gone forever
i’m under my own spell,
words are locked
behind close teeth
a truth kept
so far beneath,
i won’t sway
nor will i give in
everything’s buried
so where to begin.
Sacred CleanseCeramic vessels of rose hip oil -
hindrances to the bamboo shrine -
turn the town of murk and mud
into a scene of optimism, of one
that retains its soft-skinned youth.
And the passengers of each caravan
sense the spiritual force they bring -
the oil, the pastel urns of spring,
the metal chimes that lure bathers
from their shoji-walled homes.
Luci CareHow can you blame me, father ? How could you say this is my fault? Was it not you, after all, who made me the way I am? Was it not you who made me perfect?
You took pride in me and in my brothers and sisters and yet you accused me of taking pride in myself; for that you punish me, for that I am condemned.
Father, how was I to know I should not be content with the perfection you made of me? How was I to expect I would be so severely judged for being grateful? Is not the pride of the product a thankfulness for the maker?
Oh, father, I have served you well; I loved you, I loved myself in you and by you; and now, now… father… the pride you accused me of, it has become hate; hate towards every single one of your creations, hate towards you – father, I loved you, and you loved me, and now I am a beast, a foul beast, condemned to sleep in chaos and ruin everything you have ever made, and above all – the proud. Oh yes, the proud. Those little creatures you love so, watc
Centiped(l)Stepping out of sync, rapidly
rapidly, marching lively through
the memories of yesterday's sex
and the moment of your birth,
to what you had for breakfast
last Sunday after the thriller
you watched the day before
that brought you nightmares.
How it goes, the parade of life,
from ground level, smelling the
mold of wet sod, hearing the
quick-step padding of a thousand
feet that show the way out of
the silted lake where one of your
cousins drowned during that summer
of skinny-dipping far from town.
Little WorriesWorry about life,
it worries not for me.
These things I carry,
so worrisome.
A test this week,
two essays the next.
Homework! do not forget,
Try and do your best.
Books and paper
         and pencils
             and pens
weigh me down
        down
Yet the anchor,
sinking me,
my mind,
my heart,
down,
are those,
things,
simple, complex,
little things,
called emotions.
Worry:
will my grandma make it?
what about my mom?
my aunt and uncle driving crazy,
like ants over bodies.
My father and brother,
work, work, work, work,
My dog,
alone, alone, alone, alone.
My friends,
are they alright?
My dearest one,
so loooong I haven't seen
her.
These worries, these
things I carry,
with me.
I have to,
need to,
carry,
because,
I care.
ATROPH: What's your name?Oh, what a pretty name! One of the twins has a daughter named Lotte too, and she has a brother named Niek. The twins are my sister's children, but my twin sister died young so I raised them by myself.
Every. Fucking. Time, she hears my name...
It started getting annoying, but I made a game out of it, some kind of memory.
And the best part is when every time I finish her sentence correctly, she goes: 'Yes, Yes!'
It's like my personal game show!
to the girl still kneeing her eyesnot much has changed;
I still listen to the red-lipped boy
frightened back to the closet
passing comfort under my door
to every disarray he left
for dead
I still close my eyes in winter
mornings, hoping the sun warms
my breath and melts
the dewy tears from the nights
before
don't worry, love
not much has changed;
I still listen to a thousand brittle piano keys
breaking into a sinus rhythm
and blasphemous hymns
I still sing along
and repent
I still think of strangers sweating
underneath me
I still hope no one knows
I still
hold my breath till it hurts
more than the crunched cluster
of pain he left
I don't hurt over wonderland
and fucking him to submission
I don't have friends the way
I used to
I don't tear up at the thought of god
even if I secretly hope he finds
it in him to love me still
but I still wish on grains of sand
till they are washed away to silt
and find life within their centers
I still write to ventilate
and smile to validate
the wrong done unto me
I still dance harder tha
SWEET INNOCENCESweet beauty we do praise your name
radiant as shines the day
it is innocence we lay the blame
of why your mind was swept away.
T'was Hamlet that you gave your heart
marriage, yes you did aspire
his words were spoken with such art
that it set your very soul to fire.
His father's death had sent him mad
and his heart became a mystery
his sickness made you very sad
your covenant now cannot be.
Polonius slain by Hamlet's sword
now fatherless you went insane
tears that ran, O how they poured
your cross to bear this wrenching pain.
In a quiet brook you chose to lay
whilst music danced upon thy breath
and there I know your spirit stays
for while in song, you met with death.
Forsaken love does beauty die
lest we forget her name
sweet Ophelia's soul it cries
in innocence we lay the blame...
David Rogers
Sparro///Broken sparrowbird
clips its wing
on the side of the M1.
Blood blinds the cat's eyes
and in its death
it's finally free of
that stalking shadow.
Croft and Ash by TinyBlueCat the pariahs pyramid herethis desert is a desiccated nile,
slams dust in the midst of nowhere.
torrid waves migrate to the landscape's edge,
burying dead birds that lay
like egyptian hieroglyphics—
only the grooves remain.
as glistening specks glare above their necks
for miles,
the dune's head dissipates
with thrashes of sand,
following wind, like a wild tornado,
right to me.
Meditations IIIWhen you cry tears leak out of your eyes like moonbeams and I can almost imagine your face in the place of the moon. It must get lonely up there my friend, or else why would tears exist in your world at all, between galaxies twisted in shadow and bright suns along the coastline of constellations?
Tell me your fears. Tell me what grips your meteoric heart in the midst of stars so bright, what dangers lurk in your world which I cannot and dare not understand and will never cease to wonder at its genuineness so vibrant compared with mine. I want your wildest dreams and most capricious nightmares all spread out between us as to undo the corset of time and inch closer to the stars.
Shell/Pearl Earrings by xXVegasGirlXx Guardian Devil   The screech of the door at the bar’s entrance was barely audible over the conversations of men and women huddled over booths, tables, and the bar counter. A man’s footsteps were heard approaching a table occupied by two other men in casual wear who had already finished a round of drinks. One of the patrons, a middle aged man with greying hair and a gravelly voice that seemed to be marinated in hard liquor, motioned for the man to be seated.
“Long time no see, buddy. How’s life?”
“Could be better,” the other man huffed. “It’s been one of those days, the kind a stiff drink would be great for.”
   The grey-haired man raised his hand and was met by a waitress soon after. He ordered a bottle of beer for his friend and looked at him attentively, curious to know what had happened.
“The boss kept me for over an hour, breaking my balls over what happened last month. As if it was my fault it happened,”
Enchanted by LaColombeDeDeuil A Place to Write(I Need)A blank paper
A place for thoughts
Not yet Imagined
Full and free
No constraints
A love I have for this art
Overflowing in my heart
As is on the page
Dark Tower by MelikeBAt drunk.i carry with me
a stubbornness that won't let me forget
the entropy required for you
to burn
& a poisoned tongue, just waiting so
what will it take for you
to swallow these second hand goods
of mine?
how many cigarettes does it take
to set my mind straight
                               &
would you curl up to me when you're done?
i am a jigsawed mess, not perfect
like her.
solve for ex,
tell me why.
The Sting: Contact
Have you ever heard of coulrophobia? It’s the clinical fear of clowns. It’s quite a common fear apparently, right up there with spiders, and death. Until quite recently, I’d never heard of the term. I certainly had no idea it was such a pervasive phobia. Luckily, I have the good fortune never to have suffered such a fear. Instead, I find clowns intensely dull. It was with great displeasure that I found myself in the middle of the Orcan district of Marrshk, caught in the midst of a travelling circus. The local Orcs were loving it. I was not.
“Virmira.” I muttered. “Tell me again why we’re here.”
“You know why we’re here, Daric.” She sighed.
“I need to hear it again.”
“We’re here because of the crowds, and because there are far more interesting things here than us.”
“But – why are we here?”
She ignored me. Probably wise, really. Although from the curl of her lip and th
mhm by NervIris Tiger Dragon For Blaze by World-Inside-Me Every-Day Reality Triptych. Part I. CoffeemakersJanusz Grzywacz
Has created a cult song about a coffee grinder
Poets are silent, when it comes to coffeemakers
They lack of an olde-worlde charm
Of sentiment
They're just useful and overly functional
Nobody imbeds into their spiritual life
In the end they're not cucumber soup
They've became attached so quickly to our habits
That we ignore them
And we remind about them only when we have to make coffee
But the time will come
That the coffeemakers will make the quickest decision in their history
About noticing them
Just like the small beings discovered by a good-hearted elephant
They will quietly clamor
We are here
We are
But they won't get to the ears of their owners
Cause none of them is able to yodel
To tap dance
Or even to form thoughts in an elegant way
Coffemakers
Will be silent after this heroic attempt then
And will still perk coffee without any word
Only sometimes one of the brews made by them
Will turn out to be bitterer than the other ones
This will be the symptom
That coffemak
#220.The bleeding ghost by Manouilidis Forrest by Chardove Full Hazmat
A simple hill,
covered in dandelions.
A small brown dog
chases nothing in particular.
Beyond the crest of the hill,
the sun reflects off a white spot.
The spot becomes a man’s head.
The man’s head becomes a man,
becomes eight men,
all in white hazmat suits.
They gently strode across the field,
one foot at a time,
as if they’re on the moon.
They are careful not to disturb the flowers.
The dog stops to watch the men,
and one of the men stops
to scratch the dog behind the ears.
The dog does not respond.
The men in full hazmat
leave the hill,
still on their way.
Elephant To English
Translation from baby to English:
Who are all these people
looking at me?
I don’t like this very much.
No! Don’t pick me up!
I have a sensitive stomach!
…Oh dear…
Translation from elephant to English:
What’s… is that a rifle?
Oh, please, not again!
Translation from dog to English:
Hey, those people got a baby…
…should I eat it?
I mean, why else would they bring it here?
I-I better wait.
I’ll see what happens in a few years.
Translation from rock to English:

Translation from panda to English:
Why are they putting up curtains around my home?
Oh please, not again!
Translation from hippopotamus to English:
Hey, Fred, check out the photographer.
What is he, National Geographic?
Betcha I can kill him.
Just don’t spook him.
Check this out.
Translation from fish to English:
Doesn’t anybody carry spring water?
I’ve had nothing but salt water for six months!
This is disgusting!
Translation from human to English:
What
Roadside
There was a lamp.
It radiated frost,
and shot sparks of fission.
I sat in my car
hoping the radiator
would burn a little hotter.
The engine started
and the lights stuttered
unable to decide.
There was a lamp
casting its shadow
through scattered snowflakes.
I sat in my car
and hummed to myself,
hoping my breath would warm me.
The engine started
and begged for air
as my lungs did the same.
There was a lamp
reflecting off my roof
and back into itself.
I sat in my car.
My chair wrapped around me,
As I sunk into foam rubber
The engine started
grasping for keys
hoping for redemption.
There was a lamp
shining emergency beacons,
a song of lights and no audience.
I sat in my car
and my body turned to
gasoline and ice.
The engine started,
and hummed to itself,
hoping its breath would warm me.
Snowy Drive
They flew in every direction,
like stars in an expanding universe.
The stars collecting on my windshield,
as my headlights sparkled off each of them.
Beyond the corner,
in a glowing patch of fog,
two headlights shined out,
and scattered across the skies.
I turned my head slightly,
as a bright light caught my face,
and a brilliant radiation came to me,
as my shadow burned into the seat behind me.
The lights passed my car,
and the world dimmed again.
I have to travel more in darkness,
with only the snowflakes for company.
Freedom
Be careful when you exit,
the door frame is a little too low for your head.
If you should find yourself sweating,
go to the bathroom and
wash your face with lukewarm water.
Do not use the sink at the end,
it doesn’t work.
When you drive home,
do not take the highway.
Take the back roads and enjoy the scenery.
Also be sure to avoid the jogger crossing the street
at Port Diven Road and Elm.
When you get home,
turn the doorknob to your home,
but don’t open it.
Take a moment of clarity to realize
there is nothing waiting for you inside
that you want to see at the moment.
Instead think about visiting a relative
or one of your closer, more successful friends,
but not Peter,
he doesn’t work.
Finally, just sit on the swing in your backyard,
idly wondering if it can support your weight,
and for once in your life,
try to enjoy the breeze.
It’s free.
Looped
You’re still ordering your pizza over the phone?
You’ve been doing that for the last hundred years!
Why would you do that when you can get the new app!
It’s only 99 cents!
You can hit the button and you can order your pizza over the phone,
For free!
Just the way God intended!
What? You’re still touching your phone?
Why would you touch your phone, that’s so 2012!
Now introducing the hands free auto voice app!
After buying the 99 cent app
Just talk to our automated pizza ordering system
and you can order your pizza by talking,
for free!
Many of our customers have been complaining that
the voice recognition software is a bit fidgety,
and doesn’t understand them,
and we want you to know that we understand you.
Introducing, the NEW pizza to person app!
Only 99 cents!
Just hit the button on your phone
and speak to a real person for free!
Our representatives work around the clock
so you can get that delicious pizza
and you can talk to a real person!
Why wou
Echo
Art is not about subject, but perception. It can be interpreted as anything by any individual, but a strong artist has the ability to relay his perception to others better than anyone else. His vision exists not within characters or events, but in his very soul. It is through the soul by which all art is given meaning. Unfortunately, such a thing does not exist in any tangible medium, and any attempts to replicate it are inherently flawed. People who are less able to communicate, or at least less willing to do so, often become frustrated with this intangibility, and as a consequence grasp to any physical manifestations they can find and pretend that they are the true Gospel. Their observations are surface deep only, and their judgment is crippled by their own lack of sight. Ultimately, the true Gospel resides in the soul, and the word of God is silent but echoes through our perceptions.
Man In A House
There were corridors leading through my fingers,
and doors in my chest.
My house was an intricate series of rooms,
interconnected as though I was trying to lose myself.
The kitchen was in my feet,
and the fireplace in my neck.
Objects moved around the house every day,
trying to confuse me as I grew tired.
I traveled up and down the spiraling stairs,
through looping hallways and
through any windows I could find.
constantly looking for my bedroom.
I found it in my head.
I had been asleep for a while.
Windows In The Mirror
I walked across the reflecting pool.
The skyline extended in all directions,
perfectly straight lines extending away
perfectly smooth surfaces of buildings
Thousands of windows,
each with a person inside,
a person with a story
an entire life of experiences,
encased inside these brick walls,
not wondering about the daylight.
There was perfect geometry,
perfect rectangular eyes
that seemed to watch,
shining from below me.
This was the reflecting pool,
and the only image it distorted
was my own.
Windows In The Mirror
I walked across the reflecting pool.
The skyline extended in all directions,
perfectly straight lines extending away
perfectly smooth surfaces of buildings
Thousands of windows,
each with a person inside,
a person with a story
an entire life of experiences,
encased inside these brick walls,
not wondering about the daylight.
There was perfect geometry,
perfect rectangular eyes
that seemed to watch,
shining from below me.
This was the reflecting pool,
and the only image it distorted
was my own.
Grimm Truths: Fairytale Police Patrol - Jack by bookloverblue Evil Minions Union: Vote for Montague (Monologue) by bookloverblue E.M.U: Episode 3 - The Minions Meeting by bookloverblue Visions of an Exhausted MindI.
I sometimes forget
that in this busy,
hurry-scurry world of ours,
you're expected to follow the plan.
Wake, eat, work, sleep.
That's all there is to it.
Blissfully ignore all the
people dying
politicians lying
bankers spending
hashtags trending
hearts breaking
war machines waking
student debt mounting
penny counting
employers frowning
dear God I'm drowning
no point at all
I'm going to fall
laboured breath
I welcome death
I'm gone, I'm lost
tell me where I am
who
Opening the Tin Can [Abridged]Sherlock has Moriarty. Batman has The Joker. Superman has Lex Luthor. For ten long years, I too have been engaged in a heated battle with my own arch-nemeses. One of them is seaside crane machines. The other one – the far more serious one, and the one I want to talk about today – goes by the moniker “EC”.
I first came across EC in my late teens, and since then, they have made my life a living hell. They taunt me every single day – belittling me, bullying me and down-treading all of my achievements, making me feel frightened, upset, and on occasion, angry.
I know what you're thinking. Why didn't I just report this monster to my teachers, my parents, or even the police? Now that I'm an adult, why don't I just move away and leave them behind – start a nice new life in another neighbourhood or another city? Well, I'm afraid that it is not quite that simple. I could move to Australia and EC would still follow. Teacher, parent, nor police could punish EC w
Tyler And The Ferret's Random Hour
Hey, what’s up everyone? My name is Tyler!
    And I’m the Ferret!
And we’re gonna be spittin’ out some randomness for you today!
    Pa kow!
All random, right off the top of our heads!
    Chubba wubba!
Let’s start off with a nice random word, like potato!
    What’s more random than a potato?
I dunno. It’s a POTATO!
    I like em mashed!
Nobody cares Ferret. How about this one:
    What is it? What is it?
…Wall.
    Oh yeah! Walls bitches!
How about unicorn?
    How about monkey?
Monkey is not a random word, Ferret! Don’t say monkey!
    How about dowel?
That’s better! Jelly beans!
    Windows!
A hamburger!
    Ketchup!
CD-ROM!
    Computer!
FERRET! We are not playing a word association game! This is random! The people want random!
    Scooping!
Dice!
    Magnetism!
Let’s kick it u
Dust Night
Moonlight settles like a dust on the grass.
It coats each blade, giving a slight florescence,
breathing the slightest bit of life,
as though the ground beneath were its child.
This dust settles almost everywhere,
but I can only feel it here,
as it travels through my open window
on the chilled breeze.
It is a soft dust,
it brings its softness to the world,
and if you breathe it in slowly,
you can feel your heart fluoresce.
The Professional Man
You’ll find the rules have changed.
This is where you become the exception,
and law of man becomes a hindrance,
rather than a necessity.
You will see the line where following the rules
meets the banality of evil.
There is no more comfort.
People don’t want to see comfort.
They want to see how their misery fits on you.
And they will use all their power to do it.
All assets will be liquidated.
Your clothes.
Your facial features.
Your personality.
Your inner peace.
All will be placed on a scale
and sold at market value.
Others won’t see it happening.
They will pass it off as a necessity of life.
The only way to stop it
is to shake yourself and others out of their haze.
It is a battle without victory,
and you will surely die on the field,
but it is a battle you lose if you don’t fight it.
You lie in the path of the wind,
destined never to settle down
with the dust around you.
Look around, and you will find yourself
falling through the crack in the universe.


And then to the journals themselves:

Some people like poetrySome People Like Poetry
   
Wislawa Szymborska - translated by Walter Whipple

Some people--
that is not everybody
Not even the majority but the minority.
Not counting the schools where one must,
and the poets themselves,
there will be perhaps two in a thousand.
Like--
but we also like chicken noodle soup,
we like compliments and the color blue,
we like our old scarves,
we like to have our own way,
we like to pet dogs.
Poetry--
but what is poetry.
More than one flimsy answer
has been given to that question.
And I don't know, and don't know, and I
cling to it as to a life line.
                                                                                                           

 by AlwaysRainCheck . In which one of my poems, "The Sorrow of the Leaves", was featured. Its currently in storage because I sent it to a magazine for review. If they publish it, good for me; or else, dA it is :nuu:

Watch foreverThese are the long-haul deviants I watch.  Why?  You know what you did.  :heart:
Some of you I've watched since I got here almost 13 years ago, you old skool MFers :hug:
AGMeade
angeljunkie
apocathary
ATrue
Allysmurfy
BeccaJS
Blacksand459
claremanson
DamonWakes
danielzklein
darkcrescendo
DarkGoddessK
Dr-Vergissmeinnicht
DorianHarper
doodlerTM
DrippingWords
Droemar
GalaxyGoddess
inknalcohol
IntelligentZombie
IrrevocableFate
jasonvelocity
Jon-Law
KreepingSpawn
LadyAnder
LaurenKitsune
Lytrigian
lamat
mackwrites
Memnalar
OokamiKasumi
Prowl71
RalfMaximus
renonevada
rider-on-the-storm
rlkirkland
Rovanna
rushingtide
SadisticIceCream
saintartaud
SRSmith
ShadowedAcolyte
SurrealCachinnation
telempathicangel
TheSkaBoss
thorns
tiganusi
:devxjoetheninja

 a recognition from raspil which, truthfully speaking, I hold with a lot of regard. Incidentally, raspil  I'll start working on those two deviations of mine as well, once I'm done with this feature. That will keep me busy for here on dA. Besides, it will also help me in fleshing them out a little more.


Sacral and Spiritual BeautySacred Places
            
   
 
 
 
          
         Profound by AnthonyPresley
    Taj Mahal by purukp2000    Mont Saint-Michel - Exclusive Autumn Warm HDR by somadjinn    Gothic palm-tree of Languedoc by BricksandStones   
The light of God by mickyjenver    Il Duomo,Santa Maria del Fiore by nightshade-keyblade  
Project Portfolio: Neverending StoryWhen browsing the "Projects and Contests" folder in the forums, I have come across Andorada's interesting "Shameless Self-Promotion" in the  #ProjectPortfolio, Link Project Portfolio and the Portfolio story has begun.
Here are my own little story-works to promote


DD (Daily Deviation)

DLD/DLR (Daily Literature Deviation/Recognition)

Some contest and prize winners
Poetry
                   
Photography
and Suggestion to dA - Collaboration JournalsUPDATE:
Heidi announced that there are working to implement several ideas! Collaborative Deviations are on the list!


We have feedback from the staff that this is not as easy to implement as it might look... But they listened to us and they are doing their best! :la:

What we need to do now is to patiently wait and give the dA team our love Love  and support! :clap:
la in love la in love la in love la in love la in love
We would love to be able to collaborate on Journals more easily. :thumbsup:
(the third one in particular is something which I agree with - tandem features really need more exposure truth be told, or else its just one person who gets lucky all the time :bucktooth: )

So yeah... now onward to:

Tag:


I got tagged by Parsat , so why not lol. Actually, I also got tagged by PuzzledHeartBox and jackgunski in one of those "What do you love about yourself?" forum posts, but that doesn't count since its Forums only. Anyway :squee:

1. What non-electronic object do you think will be obsolete in the next 10 years?
That's actually a hard one, since whatever becomes obsolete in one part of the world, becomes a regular need in another part of the world. The design of bikes, for instance. Although if all things are considered, I believe that... well... I honestly don't know. I haven't thought about it that much.
2. What is your favorite way to eat potatoes?
I toss them in my curry :bucktooth:
3. How did you meet your closest friend?
NotenSMSK ? I met him in the third grade. It was in English class when we had met, and it caught on from there.
4. What was the cheapest gas price you remember, and when was it?
Cheapest... I think that would be back in 2003 I think. It was around Rs. 50.75. Taking into account inflation adjustment, that would be around 30 cents per litre, which would now be around 60 cents per litre.
5. Which deviation of yours most clearly reflects who you are?
TheGalleryOfEve Commission or Glass-house
 or Hozan (Sadness). All my deviations are a reflection of me, but these three represent me when I'm very... very... very honest.
6. Do  you root for any sports teams?
I don't
7. When someone tells you to write something down over the phone, where do you write it down?
Either on my notepad with a pen when I'm on the road or walking from one place to another, or on my computer... in the notepad program.
8. If your name were a verb, what action would it refer to?
shehroze: irregular german verb, meaning "to flirt and tease openly and offer cuddles for free"
9. Talk about a friend who is from a completely different culture than you.
Well, that's kinda tough, considering I'm on dA. But if I had to pick, I'd probably talk about PuzzledHeartBox . He and I are so different, and yet so similar. I'm a tad bit held back and a little conservative in my approach, truthfully speaking (hell, I even show that as well), but he's so open and states his mind bluntly. Although I have a European passport, I'm not entirely European - but I suppose I've yet to carve my identity as well. :shrug: He has those values of Europe which I like: he gets around with the trains and public transport with no problem, has a really cool fashion sense, has a sense of humour which would usually not be understood by people from outside Europe but I get and I find awesome, and... he's likable, if you're more into honest upfront sorta folk. And... yeah... the rest enters TMI territory and I'm not going on that.
10. What is your desktop background right now?
A borning, generic Dell desktop background.

And I tag no one :P

News:


So... what have I been up to lately? What keeps me busy and all that... Well... Apart from all these "..." I'm actually in good spirits.

The MPH is going really well, and for the most part I've had no significant problems in dealing with the course content. We had a Summer School from 1 June till 15 June and that was fun. Exhausting as fuck, and tiring as hell, but it was truly worth it. And on Friday, at 6pm, I met PuzzledHeartBox :squee:

We totally engaged ourselves in Hamburg. He stayed over in my apartment (which I'll have to leave in October to shift to Bergedorf in a hostel since its closer to uni and its cheaper. I loved this place where I'm staying, and now I just feel sad knowing I won't be around here. Shame, really, but hey, studies come first so :shrug: ). We went to Sternschanze, Reeperbaun, Jungfernsteig, Rathaus, Landungsbrücken, and we roamed around in Lange Reihe as well. It was an adventure. And he had a wonderful time here in Hamburg, so I'm happy for him and things are good here at my end.

And I also saw JUDAS. FUCKING. PRIEST. LIVE!! Yes, my dream had come true when I saw my favourite band, perform live, in Hamburg. They played Victims of Changes, Beyond the Realm of Death, Painkiller, Valhalla, Army of the Dead, Breaking the Law, Redeemer of Souls, Metal Gods, Living After Midnight, Hell Bent for Leather, Turbo Lover, You've Got Another Thing Coming, Jawbreaker, and one more song from their album Redeemer of Souls.... no, wait, they also performed Hellion/Electric Eye as well. The opening act was Five Finger Death Punch which just got boring very quickly, for me anyway. Soon as Judas Priest came on, it was an hour and forty five minutes of heavy. fucking. metal. :headbang: .

Incidentally, I also discovered a few other bands in the process. One of my latest favourites for now is Battle Beast, which is epic, and in its simple way, its music for my ears. I love it. Come to think of it, I discovered a few bands while staying here in Hamburg: Orange Ate Kid (who have a facebook page, do give them a listen, they're nice), Hammerfall (Hearts on Fire is my favourite. Its cheesy, its classy, its got a bridge which makes you want to sing along like a Karaoke), and... Kalmah is nice too (Hades kicks ass). As well as Madness, Anita Kelsey "Sway with me", and... oh, I finished some anime as well: Angel Egg, Ergo Proxy, Bo-bobo bobo-Bo (which I'm still watching), Gunbuster, Afro Samurai: Resurrection, Chouyaku Hyakuninisshu: Uta Koi, Devil May Cry, and Trigun. I highly recommend Ergo Proxy, because it has a very good story and it has a wonderful plot progression. And... I also saw an old movie in B Movies (which is a movie theater in Hamburg), called "If...", which was actually a cool work overall. Also, I saw "Shawn the Sheep" in Cinemaxx which was just plain adorable, and British too. Will be seeing "Juraissic Park in 3D" in Cinemaxx as well.

On that note, don't watch the 1988 movie "Wizard" by Ralph Bakshi. Its a messed up movie, with a very perturbing ending. Not for kids, at. all.

Well, that's more or less from my side for now. I've had my share of moments when I felt really down, but they haven't really moved me or hurt me that much. I manage to bounce back some way or the other. You need to. :) I know I haven't been online that much on dA, but I'm always available for talking. I've been in a conversation with SadistSkunk which is something I like. Its nice. Also, thanks TheGalleryOfEve , you're a sweetheart. I needed the ear, and I appreciated your response. And... all's good at my end. Hope to hear from all of you soon. Cheers.
Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: strong language)
Hey everyone, its me :wave:

I have much to share here, and since its the 13th of March (also, incidentally, Friday the 13th - that's the second one I've seen this year), its time for another mid-month Feature and all that.

Feature:


ChangesA picture long forgotten brings back
Unsorted memories of a time long gone
When their hair was long and not grey
And life was an adventure ahead.
A creased, bleached picture of two best friends
Caught united in an eternal embrace
A proof of the unspoken vow
"It's us against the world forever"
The picture in the mirror reveals
The traces of time without any mercy
Surrounded by the evidence
Of plans altered, abandoned and changed
The pictures of life which had started
To be unique, exciting and special
Together they paint a picture
Of a life led in normality
The wild days of excess are over
The horns are broken, some bones were as well
Along the way from "then" to "now"
But still, some things have not changed at all
Wrinkly fingers press well known numbers
The phone never has to ring very long
Before a rasp voice answers it.
Time rewinds, youthful laughter is shared.
Day 033 by CadaverousDingo Demo 1 by Andrew-YM a place to sit down and observe by Armandacyd Poechair by JerryLangdon Ghosts by Kamal-Q

Pairs by Kamal-Q - something which I have to work on as well: deviation thing.

Can't You?Can't you hear?
She's crying as 
The night settles in.
Roaring thunder
Masks her sobs.
She weeps
As her happiness
Sinks deeper 
Into the abyss.
Can't you feel?
She tries her
Hardest
To please you
In everything she does.
Every waking moment
She breaks her back
To earn a least a shred
Of your love.
Can't you tell?
She does everything
You ask of her.
Your wish
Is her command.
She'll do anything 
To please you.
But you treat her
Like an animal.
Can't you see?
All she ever 
Wanted 
To be
Was yours.
Abstain the PastHappiness may be changing my decisions
Fear may be helping it along
Yet, the choice I make is definite
It is now the past
And I live the future
Elias (drawing test) by MakoTM BareI stand at the edge of the forest.
A pink and purple sun sets as cold blues illuminate the icy snow blankets.
My breath, slow, painfully inhaled and reluctantly exhaled, mists in front of my dotted vision.
I can see through the entire forest, long bare vessels of awaiting life in a hardened sea, into spaces once full of green now void.
No, not bare.
And not void.
People say that Winter is Nature's Death, and Spring is Its Birth; beautiful renewal after harsh termination.
They are wrong.
They are hypocritical.
They are Death.
We are the ones that huddle in masses, buried in sheet upon sheet of cloth, cursing the frozen season and then after finally receiving the the warmer temperatures so desperately pleaded for, we recoil from the humid muck and wish for the cool.
We are the ones that stamp out decaying leaves, dirty the vivid white of the fallen snow, and then after our handiwork call the landscape ugly.
We call Winter Death as a justification of our actions, and think ourselves right
The Jewel of EzraCome all ye comrades, I tell ye a tale
A tale of the mines, where miners did toil
amid the dust and dirt of the mountains
had he been buried, lain dormant awhile
The jewel, the jewel of Ezra
He lay there in silence, forgotten, alone
until that one day, that one morrow, that noon
along came young Ezra, to not but mine coal
unknowing his fate was to change but so soon
and found he, the jewel if Ezra
ecstatic, young Ezra, at finding the gem
ran out of the mine and called out to his friends
he fervently showed his fortuitous prize
and thought that this rock, his poverty, shall end
this gem, he named, "jewel of Ezra'
Alas his poor fate, for while on his way home
some bandits did raid him and he was deceased
they searched through his carcass, the pockets and all
"Aha! look at this chaps!" one of them decreed
and took they, the jewel of Ezra
but soon in their midst did arguments break
Who shall keep the gem? who does it, then, own?
and so they did fight and, one another, kill
a kind of fate t
CollapsingCollapsing on the floor
Everything was spinning
Already defeated
While the game was just beginning
So easy to give up now
So easy not to care
You asked me to hold on
But it's just too much to bare
Sonnet LXVIIOp. 27, no. 7
Poor Beauty

Why should poor beauty indirectly seek
Its exaltation in the lives of men?
That which is second-rate when at its peak
Can hardly satisfy us, now or then.
And yet it generates its own allure—
A refuge near, not marked by miles nor leagues—
And promises to make us feel secure
If we should dip into its base intrigues.
We must resist, for these are passing pleasures,
Ensnaring all who fall into its honeyed traps,
Where adequacy masquerades as treasures
Too easily tumbling into waiting laps.
Upon this truth, please think on it and rest:
The good is oft the enemy of the best.
The Human, Escape, Act 1, Page 7 by jackgunski Pride undoneRemember me for centuries
A weak heel in the red hot shoe
Another dance that will never perish
For hating beauty and wearing out the mirror
Adorned with peacock feathers (they called you Argos
but they never knew Argos was also the name of a city
where the wind blows free on the dried stone)
and prickling the tip of your finger to make blood
stain the snow white window sill
Where the widower's wife had wept for her daughter to be
And the ebony wood had crackled in the fire place like a laugh  
An echo of your own.
You turned your skin to parchment
to carve the story of the Fairest of them all
Remember me for centuries
We will  - along with the bite and the poison
But who remembers, still, the corset of vanity
and the comb of madness?
It's like you always knew
the root of all evil came
off the seed of apples.
About the Sketchbook...I was supposedly gorgeous in graphite -
in pencils marked as 3H and 4B.
Your intent, to mimic my every feature,
demonstrated a love beyond comprehension.
Some called it obsession - an urge to waste lead
on a single person. Particularly, me.
But so unaware were half of the masses;
they could not discern between love and the latter.
The artsy couple - clearly naive.
UnschuldsengelSometimes as the sun sets,
I remember the dreams
Long since passed
Gone, ephemeral as
My delicate existence,
As the screams silenced
When I wake.
O’ innocent angel,
Your wilted wings
Hold you high no more.
They let you glide no more.
Only the fall,
Awaits you,
With open arms.
You soared so high,
With arrogance so malign,
To which you turned a blind eye.
And now you sink.
Letting dusk seep into your bones,
Weighing you down,
You’ve fallen so far,
O’ benign angel.
A Day in GrenadaCan you imagine, waking up every morning, listening to the lapping of the waves against the sand, the soft, distant murmur of people playing in the water, or chatting at a bar. The feeling of the hot rays of the sun, gleaming down from above, the warmth felt all around from within your cozy blanket. The plushed pillow resting your revitalizing head.
You open your unweary eyes, and see serene, crystal-blue waters, with gentle sprays of ocean white. Sunbleached, wet sand glistening colors of every hue,blurring into a vibrant light lemon.Tall, dark, forested peaks sit in the background, ominous and beautiful, daring adventurers to climb its moss green hills.
As night rolls in, several places close for the night, and others open for the first time today. Cars stop roaming on the road, and nighttime stragglers walk towards the bars and restaurants. Orange lanterns and yellow streetlights lit up the hills across and the land beside. The world grows purple, blue, and black... yet still more i
Standing stones
mystic knots,
the ghosts of stone trees,
and Gaelic calligraphy
like the witches of Hamlet
with robes concealing their forms,
and formless
their wind-blown altar
with shadows stretching,
barren and lichen-strewn
pincushionUse my heart
as a pincushion.
Press the pins
into the steady thud,
thud of the clenched fist
wrapped in pink tissue paper.
Let the threads
dangle like loose strands
of blonde hair resting
on a child’s cheeks.
Pull the pins
and there will be
small tunnels and caves
filled with tiny rubies
making my heart glitter
with gemstones.
Use my heart
as a pincushion
if it will help you
make your own life
a tapestry of red and gold.
#210.Realm of light by Manouilidis

Strombotto Of LeafinessWhen at last an autumn leaf decides to stray
Endeavors to rend itself from the tree's hold
I long to be there, whether by night or by day
Beside any autumn arbor young or old
Providing sweet peace amid life's bitter fray
This leaf held close to my heart, lifeless and cold
This autumn leaf in silence sings a wild song
Foretelling the release of his kin in throngs
- truly, a beautiful poem. This poem deserves more recognition than it has been given. What a shame really.

At the End of the RainbowAt the end of the rainbow is no man’s land.
A country where wars never take place.
A country where everybody loves each other.
This has remained for millions of years.
At the end of the rainbow, I will live someday.
Sitting on green grass between innumerable flowers.
In the bright light, by the blue sky, birds draw their courses
And with an insatiable longing thoughts flee into the distance.
Nothing could spoil my being in the Valley of Light.
Gone are grief, suffering and pain. A loving heart knows no sorrow here.
Be it old, be it young, be it black, be it red – Noone suffers in no man’s land.
The sun radiates. Nature has everything painted in the most beautiful colors.
When I think of my loved ones, melancholy enters my sad heart.
Then colorful butterflies come. It is hard to believe how beautiful they are.
And when once in distant times, I will cross this bridge
And when angels accompany me, amiably, I will understand the end of the rainbow.
Nightlife Loversas the hours
go down with the sun
the nightlife lovers
come out of hiding
  undisturbed by
  the pitter-patter
  of the raindrops
armed with colour
  above their heads
  they give
a whole new shade
  to midnight.
Snow Daysnowflakes are awesome
burying our world in white
and school is canceled!
I woke upAfter I killed myself
I woke up
in the real world.
I hugged my mum
as she weeped over the coldness
of life, of my body, and
Dad gazed into the vortex of despair.
I made a joke to break the silence.
We laughed, it felt fantastic.
My friends were dazed with every emotion.
They spoke beautifully
at the assembly on Monday.
People began to know of me
worldwide. I saved
millions from their locked selves,
inspired souls to fly down
and be with family.
"It can't happen again."
The sun ballooned.
I saw that life was worth waking up for.
I love him nonethelessHe smoked in bed with his spine bent where it shouldn't, slumped across the pillows and with his eyelids half open and if it had been another life time I probably would have been in love with him.
As it was, I watched the cigarette as he brushed his nose with his palm, sniffed to try and retract his emotions and then shakily drew from it again.
He was utterly beautiful, even in wretchedness, and although every inhale was agony in his trachea I could see behind his dulled irises the desire to be better, and I was going to get him there.
I tucked my feet under his duvet and didn't care when our feet touched. He flinched but not at me but because his thoughts had been elsewhere. I took no offence and neither of us moved again.
He took nervous stabs at the ashtray as the loose tobacco fizzled and escaped the paper. It was an instinct. A reflex. If the bed had set alight with both of us in it the only reason either of us would have moved would have been to save the other.
The bed didn't set
Meditations IDust buried me long before my heart paused in the action of sleep, coating remains of my shattered reflective soul with frosty words that later on I could not discern from the scent of bitter oranges and clove... Bergamot, or Valencia, perhaps? That which oozed a summer memory, the corpse of a twilight I imagined was mine. Or was it real? Did I remember only what i sought? I recall only that halfway I stumbled, as the path was unbeknownst to me and I trekked onwards with only the shady beeches to accompany me. Or was it a moon?
Bergamot and clove fades, as they first came and I cry to them NO-- I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be; I run as water doth fade in sand, a trembling presence quivering in anticipation, a leak in time. I am not Prince Hamlet, as I watch only from the sidelines, dealing cards over coffee stains, raising my head not to roar defiance but to interrupt the actors with blemishes and renewals of speech. I am not Prince Hamlet; not any prince at all should you
A Place Where the Dark EndsPale faces meet in a mixture
This Union of beauty and a creature
Fingers entwined until the end of time
Under that tragic smile everything is not fine
Wine makes it numb for a while and the drugs are magic
With spit in my eyes I crawl under the sheets lethargic
I don't think her angelic eyes can carry me much longer
These scars on my wrists prove I'm sort of a survivor
Just to breathe eat and sleep the hopelessness away
Pray that today will be the day god intervenes to keep the evil at bay
We used to wonder under thunder when I was able to walk
Now these faded dreams of us deceive dead as a rock
Where nothingness abounds where even the dark isn't found
That's where I am headed. It's where I am bound.
Cloud NineEveryone's always talking about Cloud Nine,
how everything's so perfectly lovely, no shroud of doubt that could move one's mind from all this marvel.
Though, what if that cloud dissipates?
What's left of those beautiful promises, hopeful longing eyes,
staring forward in an abysmal crevice as you commence your descent plummeting downwards at an ever increasing rate
where wings can not catch nor hold you, nor could an angel's breath still your fear.
Who's there to cushion your fall as you realize the cold reality?
Where does this boat sail, if Hope's waves disappear from the ocean of euphoria?
As they make way for a silent, dead sea, where your reflection is all you can get for company.
And you'll spin round and round, and there is but emptiness, and the painful memory.
What if Cloud Nine was but a promise, a remnant thought, something to somehow secure your sanity.
Something incredibly impossible, yet something for which we'd all hope it would come to be.
That safety net,
Run for our livesI've just received a little package from an anonymous person
Me: *opens it and picks up a red button* Hmm....what is this for?
Alix: Don't know but I don't think you should push it, cause we don't know where it came from.
Me: *looks at him with a smile* It might not do anything.
Alix: *looks concerned* What if it does do something and it's very bad?
Me: *looks at the red button* You've a point there.
J.Remy: *comes out of nowhere and scares me and Alix* Hey~
Me and Alix: AHHHHH!!!!!!!!! *jumps back* Where did you come from?!
J.Remy: *laughs* I've been here the whole time
Me: Well....I didn't see you anywhere...
Alix: Same here.
J.Remy: Just because you didn't see me doesn't mean I wasn't here, cause I might have been hiding behind trees.
Alix: Well, were you?
J.Remy: Maaaayyybbbeee... hm? *notices the red button* Oooooooo push it! You should push it! *smirks and bounces*
Me: No!
J.Remy: Aren't you a little curious to see what it does?
Me: Yeah.
J.Remy: Well...push the button, I know yo


And now, onward to...

Tag:


Because DannyMechanist had added my name in it.

  1. What in your honest opinion, if anything, can be done by moderate Muslims to redeem the name of Islam?
    If there was an answer to that, we wouldn't have an Arab Spring and ISIS now, would we?!
  2. Sun Dress or Bikini? (And why)
    I'm a guy.
  3. Are you pro or against euthanasia? Why?
    Having seen misery upfront in Pakistan, and having seen that chronic diseases have no cure, and having seen that its a handful who can afford the luxury of a full treatment (unless you're part of some Foundation/Charity/Government established support programme), and realizing that its also a handful less than the handful mentioned earlier who are willing to go the whole damn way, just spare the family and put them out of the misery of watching that poison kill them. Cancer's a stereotype - diabetes has no cure, other than constant dialysis; schizophrenia and dementia and other psychological diseases have no cure, and only make things worse than if one tries to repair them (lets face it, if you're fucked up in the head, you'll stay fucked up in the head until you want to change yourself); and if you're an addict, you'll stay an addict till you stand up for yourself and get out of that vicious cycle.
    And speaking candidly here: I'd much rather go to hell, than have others bear the misery of hoping I'll be cured. There's no cure in life - Life's one big disappointment, and that's all there is to it. If I get cured, realistically speaking, its temporary.
  4. What is your view on "medicinal Marijuana"?
    Marijuana's a global thing now, so who gives two cuntflap dicks if its medicinal category or not?!
  5. What genre of literature do you prefer reading?
    I'll read anything, and have no preferences. So long as it isn't Mills and Boons. Even bad fanfics.
  6. Which is better, knowing how to cook or knowing how to swim?  Why?
    Cooking is innate, Swimming is acquired. Swimming it is then.
  7. If you could have presidency for a month, what would you change?
    The City Government policy of accomodations in Hamburg.
  8. Which mythological god do you find the most bad ass? Why?
    Priapus
  9. Celts or Britons?
    I'm in Germany, and I'm representing both Pakistan and Ireland.
  10. What's your favorite visual medium? Why?
    I have no preferences. Anything goes - the artist is a cunt faced fuckwit anyway, so their works are what matter.

News:


I've finally shifted to Hamburg. And although, I'll be candid when I say, I haven't been online that long here, I've been fairing well, and posted deviations about the places I've seen, thus far, here in the city.

Mom came to drop me off here in Hamburg, and from February 24th till March 11th, we did all that was needed to be done (as told in order of accomplishment):

  1. Find a residence first and foremost.
  2. Get the Anmeldung, the German equivalent of a "Registration". More specifically, though, this registration includes all categories of citizens who - irrespective of EU and non-EU status - are duty bound to indicate their overall presence here in Hamburg if they are not tourists. This includes - and is especially important for - students, married couples who have recently moved to Hamburg, workers, officials, diplomats, and residents who have recently shifted house.
  3. Open the bank account in Commerzbank (Its pronounced Commerce Bank)
  4. Get insurance started in AOK.
In the process, we did explore a quarter of the city. But there's still time for that, and it will come eventually. Before leaving, though, me and mom managed to also get a residence in an apartment from April till September, so I have a roof over my head. One big advantage for me is that all I need to do is get an Anmeldung only - the rest isn't necessary to be repeated.

What have I been doing recently, though? What has been keeping me from going here on dA? The university! :dummy: its so lively, its so alive, its so fucking amazing I swear. The international dinner was just - panache! Panache, I tell you!

3000 people, from 32 different countries of the world, all came here, to this university of mine, to study! Incidentally, I can say with the utmost pride, that I am representing both Ireland (as its lone citizen by birth and by virtue of my holding a passport bearing the insignia, confirmation, and acknowledgement of the Republic of Ireland) and Pakistan (one of a total of three).

Originally, though, my university traces its roots through the original University of Hamburg (and most of the buildings do, in fact, exhibit it - case in point is the Berliner Tor campus of HAW Hamburg, which traces its roots all the way back to 1884). Incidentally, my campus is based in Bergedorf (and is relatively new in its roots - somewhere in the 60s and 70s, and taking full form in the 90s). Hamburg itself, though, is a big city - Let me put it this way: As a student, I am allowed to travel through the Hamburg Verkehrsverbund (HVV, or Hamburg Transport Association) free of charge, and I have the choice to go via boat buses, Underground Trains, Surface Trains, Road Buses, or by Rail Cars (the replacement systems for trams).

I haven't seen the darker side of Hamburg yet (I've seen enough in Pakistan to really not be surprised even if I did), but the lighter things which I have born witness to, have humbled me towards the choice I made to study here. Its a paradise compared to Pakistan - and in fact, for me, bearing in mind my experience in Islamabad, has been a stark and welcome contrast. Its a new world for me, and that's all that matters to me.

And speaking of what matters, the German language! What thoroughness is this medium, how regimental is its grammar and its structure, how thorough it is in its presentation. What a credence indeed it has - and in it is imbibed so much of what makes this place worthwhile. I am not very fluent in German (although, it has not hindered me in persevering and dedicating myself to listening and comprehending it daily) but I will gladly dedicate myself to it. Its a welcome contrast from Urdu, not that I'm complaining anyway: I treat Urdu like one uses a flask of water to clean your arse after taking a dump - its a good stepping stone to learn German, and that's all it will serve.

Pakistan's dirt cheap in comparison to Germany - but then the point also arises that its system (the present one in place) could be improved, but isn't prioritized. I suppose the primary reason Germany progressed and adapted so quickly and efficiently is because they went for what society needs rather than what citizens want. Only things citizens want are money, status, a roof over their heads, pleasure, and food - its always been that way in the end, and nothing will change that. Which is why Germany's system and administration is a thoroughly involving institution, and something which I hold with a lot of respect. Its a European ideal, and one which I agree, has made a big difference in my perspective. For the better - greatly for the better.

Its sad that Pakistan doesn't do the same. but in the end, its a good thing it doesn't either - there are always two sides to a mirror, and it is best to have contrasts. It is contrast, in the end, which drives change and improvements. Pakistan will improve but it won't happen anytime soon or anytime in the near future, since its a big populace, and they aren't going to go anywhere anytime soon. With that said, Paki girls are bitches, Paki men are either like me (dumb, idiotic, silly, well meaning, hypocritical, but with some sort of principle system and some form of code of adherence and in the end, some level of calm understanding) or they're the cream of the crop (honest, sincere, sharp, trustworthy, principle driven, vibrant in energy, and remarkably efficient) or they're common rabble (fucked up, shit faced, cunt brained, mentally degenerated, physically sterile, emotionally impotent little stereotypical shits with Chinese phones). But isn't that the case with every society in the world? :shrug:

Anyway, I digress - my rant is nothing more than a blunt realization that all societies are the same, and we might as well plaster ourselves with the same paint. There's always going to be problems, we're all cunts, we can't change shit, and lets just go fuck ourselves silly then :shrug: rant over.

Now, to lighter news: My campus is lovely, and the friends I've made are very international (Venezuela, Canada, Pakistan, India, Nigeria, the United Kingdom, just to name a few) so far as my MPH programme is concerned. We've all settled in quite well for now, and we're doing good, so I'm happy. :) besides, talking about Pakistan is pointless here - I'll have my major worries more along the lines of my studies anyway, so what happens in that old world are irrelevant here. Verily, they are.

How have all of you been? How are things at your end? Looking forward to your comments. Cheers.

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Critiques

Victim of Fashion by MelikeBAt

I usually don't critique that many works but I felt like critiquing this one in particular. For what it is worth, this particular paint...

blending together forever by fotomademoiselle

:iconevery-photo: critique well... not really. For a start, the use of the ripples on a lake/river to represent the forest's reflection in a distorted ...

Critique is such a hard job - but somebody's gotta do it. I for one, am proud of my critiques.

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:iconbookloverblue:
bookloverblue Featured By Owner Jun 12, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the several faves!
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:icond-e-l-e-t-e-d:
d-e-l-e-t-e-d Featured By Owner May 24, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you so much for the fave(s)! I'm sorry this is so late! :love:
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:iconbloodshotink:
BloodshotInk Featured By Owner May 21, 2015
Red Rose in teardrop crystal vase dewless 
Thanks for the fave <3
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WingsUnchained Featured By Owner May 18, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thank you for the :+fav:!
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JutsuGal1208 Featured By Owner May 16, 2015
THX 4 THE FAV!!! :woohoo: :hug: :iconiamhappyplz:
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:iconladylincoln:
LadyLincoln Featured By Owner May 15, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for collecting, lovely. :heart:
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Coffee--Pot Featured By Owner May 1, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Oh my gosh it's you! Whoa!
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:iconpauper-circumstance:
Pauper-Circumstance Featured By Owner Apr 14, 2015
Please, please, please forgive me for being a day late with this, but...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! :D :party: :D

Hope you have a wonderful and blessed day. :) Best wishes!
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:iconladylincoln:
LadyLincoln Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Happy birthday, dearheart. :heart:
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JWA2277 Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy birthday :iconcakeplz: 
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Windaddyflex Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015  Professional General Artist
Happy birthday Sheroze! :iconfireworkplz:
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:iconnathanielflyingowl:
NathanielFlyingOwl Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015   Writer
Happy birthday, my friend! I hope it goes well. :)
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SaintOfTheDragons Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015  Student Traditional Artist
Happy Birthday!
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nightshade-keyblade Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
:iconhappybirthdaysignplz:, Shehroze! Alles Gute zum Geburtstag
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:iconraspil:
raspil Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015   Writer
happy birthday, good buddy!  hope everything is good with you :D
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:iconparsat:
Parsat Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015   Writer
A happy birthday to you, good sir!
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VioletRogue Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Happy Birthday!
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prettyflour Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy birthday my friend. I hope you have a fantastic day!!
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TheGalleryOfEve Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
:iconflyingheartsplz:Happy Birthday my friend! by TheGalleryOfEve:iconflyingheartsplz:
I hope you have a GREAT day!!! :iconcheerplz:
:party: :cake: :iconyaayplz: :iconbaloonplz: :tighthug:
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:iconmalintra-shadowmoon:
Malintra-Shadowmoon Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy birthday and all my best wishes to you. Hope you have a wonderful day :sun:
:iconbirthdaycakeplz:
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Spiritomb1231 Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015  Hobbyist Photographer
Patrick (Cake) [V1] Happy Bday and best wishes to you bro!Patrick (Cake) [V1] 
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:iconmontyclan:
Montyclan Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015
Happy B-Day!
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:icondiluculi:
Diluculi Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Herzlichen Glückwunsch zum Geburtstag!
(Happy Birthday) :party::airborne::cake:
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PuzzledHeartBox Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015
Happy birthday! :eager:
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:iconangoraart:
AngoraART Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015  Professional Digital Artist
Happy birthday! :party:

 :ihavecaek: :ihavecaek: :ihavecaek: Cake :ihavecaek: :ihavecaek: :ihavecaek:
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