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:icondeadpoet363:

~deadpoet363

Child of the Spoken Word
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About Me Member General Poet deadpoet363Male/United States Recent Activity Deviant for 1 Year
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Sunrise and SunsetLove can be like morning’s first light,  bright and blinding, new and young,  the first sign of hope after a long night.  And it can be like the last light of sunset,  soft and gentle, reserved and refined,  etched in memory to stand the test of time.  Love enters with thunderous applause  and stays in the deepest recess of the heart;   
Our love shines both like sunrise and sunset --  
burning and calming, stinging and soothing,  and shines like warm sunlight from within. Sunrise and Sunset
by ~deadpoet363
Daughter       I came into her room because I couldn’t sleep, because she couldn’t sleep.  It was one of those nights, the bad ones, when she sat up coughing until it turned to blood and covered her sheets.  She had hair that seemed too delicate to be real, that fell from her head like strands of light from the sky.  It glowed as if in sunshine even  in the dim moonlight, and I swear that if I touched it, it’d turn to dust.  Her eyes were pleading, but not sad.  She just wanted to be out of pain, and enjoy life for what it was worth.  Daughter
by ~deadpoet363
LonelinessLoneliness is a powerful, pleasing, purifying drug.  Naked,  Honest,  Heavy.  It removes innocence with longing,  Replaces it with lust  -- Two steps forward, one step up,  And up, and up, and up—   
Melt in it   
Be crushed by it.   
Logic likes straight lines  But life likes curves  Curving off cliffs  Crashing into crashing waves crashing  On the shore   
Violently caressing, like I wish she would . . .  
 
Don’t.  
Kiss.  Me.  
For I am lonely.   
And I won’t let you take who I am. Loneliness
by ~deadpoet363
The White RoseThere's nothing more delicate than a white rose,  soft and kind,  shining with affection in a rosy sunset.  Just a flower in the breeze  garnering attention like a goddess.   
Nothing as breathtaking as renewing morning dew  dancing off petals and twirling toward the grass.   
"Even her tears taste like life."   
Liquid light pours through veins  and paints vivid images on petals  more colorful than violets and sunflowers,  white like a soft winter blanket lying in the summer sun.   
Cool to touch and take in.  "She sends shivers down my spine  as I stro The White Rose
by ~deadpoet363
Browse Gallery

Uh Oh . . . Iceberg

Mon Dec 29, 2008, 10:27 AM
I could be fake, but then what fun is that?

3 Comments | Previous Journal Entries
  • Listening to: Beirut
  • Reading: The Heart of Darkness
  • Playing: chopsticks
  • Eating: cheese sticks
  • Drinking: green tea

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Devious Info

  • Current Residence: in the bars of my mind
  • Interests: flying, writing, singing, music, pretty much anything artsy
  • Favourite movie: at the moment, August Rush
  • Favourite band or musician: Carbon Leaf
  • Favourite genre of music: Indie Rock
  • Personal Quote: Sticks and stones will break my bones, but I've got words and those can really hurt.

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Comments


~pseudometry:iconpseudometry: Jan 2, 2009, 9:19:04 PM
Thanks very much for the :+fav: and the :+devwatch:

--
'Beauty will save the world'
--Fyodor Dostoevsky
~oalicein:iconoalicein: Dec 26, 2008, 6:55:32 PM
you are very correct about I'm angry alone.
*WordCount:iconWordCount: Sep 17, 2008, 9:43:34 AM
Thanks for watching the *WordCount project!

If you'd like to suggest some prose, please drop by our forum.

:wave:

--
Make Every Word Count.

*WordCount 510 watchers and counting!

The Prose Piggybank.
~oalicein:iconoalicein: Jul 9, 2008, 12:15:57 PM
thanks for reading and giving me some props. see you around.
Mood: Shame ~Kraehwinkelei:iconKraehwinkelei: Jun 6, 2008, 10:23:46 AM
You're welcome! I really like your poems. I am taking a creative writing class at uni this semester and was looking for some inspiration- it's kind of hard to write poems in a foreign language... (I study English in Dresden , Germany) especially creating different atmospheres. I would like to upload some of my poems and short stories, but it's so embarrassing compared to your works and so many others....

--
"Auch ist das vielleicht nicht eigentlich Liebe, wenn ich sage, daß Du mir das Liebste bist; Liebe ist, daß Du mir das Messer bist, mit dem ich in mir wühle."
~deadpoet363:icondeadpoet363: Jun 12, 2008, 4:56:00 PM
Wow, if you hadn't said anything I would never have known that English wasn't your first language. I wish you luck in your studies, and hope that you find your inspiration. Thank you for your compliments as well.

--
My pen bleeds and beats with each stroke, with each metaphor it strikes a chord and words come to life.
~puppydawgkilla:iconpuppydawgkilla: May 27, 2008, 5:21:23 PM
Patches?

--
find the bars; escape captivity.
~deadpoet363:icondeadpoet363: May 30, 2008, 6:30:04 PM
indeed, I kinda got sick of the old account, but I certainly want to keep up with your work.

--
My pen bleeds and beats with each stroke, with each metaphor it strikes a chord and words come to life.
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