You have to remember
your steps do not echo
on deaf ears
and in stillness,
silences meld with
solaces
Full heart, it cannot close
and in your eyes
swirl most delicate
flecks of
Gold.
You have to know that
those you
love
are those that
see
all
that I know in you
Resonate
every grain
even though
synthetic
lies beneath wrapped yarn
and when
pain
floods through light
Please.
Take your path
for on it is nothing but
Gold.
Know
That I love you.
When autumn sun rises and kisses the night sky farewell,
Know that I love you.
When late night's breeze tickles your tender cheek pink,
Know that I love you.
As long as the winding river that takes my soul
along each gentle ridge in the river bend,
Let my love be the bridge that guides you
safely over the soft tides.
And should other hands take yours,
And should other eyes hold you
so delicately
in each gentle laugh line's crease,
Let my arms be those you drift into
when you lay your sleeping head
amongst the stars,
And let my lips be those yours,
so soft and tender,
find in the late winter's c
There are days I want to run
screaming into the night,
but then I remember
what's down the road for me,
and I can't seem
to go anywhere but
forward.
I am
depleted
I am
careworn..
these hands,
swollen, and calloused..
but I am so in love,
tightness in my chest
that flows through me
like a deep mahogany
rich in caramel melody.
I never thought
I'd
fall this
in
love you like the yarn
loves the rosewood
in warm tones that
resonate like the
arches in Rome.
I want to sink into your arms
like a sweet melody
and it's a giant fluffy blanket
while my eyelids lower to let dreams
fill with the harmony.
I once asked a composer,
"Where do you draw from?"
as the tidal waves of his rhythms
and his melodies crashed over my head.
Where do you draw from,
that something so strong
can come from your fingertips.
Something that speaks of a beyond,
profound as the rising sun, yet
silent as black notes on paper,
that gyrate like snowflakes
in the middle of July.
The first time I met you
I melted, just like the
snowman under those fireworks
with all those notes swirling.
I never thought I'd find you
yet there you were, waiting,
while a child ran through the house
with chopsticks, pretending
everything in sight was a drum.
Waiting
when the morn grows dark and cold by jhock216, literature
Literature
when the morn grows dark and cold
I thought of you
as the nail polish crackled
on my toes,
spreading across the surface
the same way water floods
dry desert plains, thirsty
for droplets that waited to fall;
Just like I waited for you
as the sun dropped
beneath the horizon
while crumpled leaves
danced across my feet
like ballerinas in a tornado.
I need you
unnervingly, exhaustingly so..
It is what keeps those memories
coming back
in such a fluid nature.
But the melody keeps me warm.
Rich chords;
enveloping as a hot shower
on a cold morn.
Tidal waves of violet,
maroon and caramel,
spackeled with droplets of silver.
How peaceful,
as it all trickles down.
But when it'
thoughts while driving home by jhock216, literature
Literature
thoughts while driving home
Brown eyes
murky, stained-glass windows
to the worn-leather sole
Heavy eyes
because the red inside is so dense
that these weathered veins trudge
on broken soles down twisting,
writhing, ashen roads.
They long to run, to move timelessly again,
to feel the blazing, green adrenaline pulsing
in all directions.
Run, to where the earth stretches itself out,
to where the sky and land meet in the most tender
kiss of light, of fate, and the burn, the bright crimson
burn that's lived in these fibers since the dawn.
Trust, my child, and your stumbling, running legs
will no longer feel that burn that will remit to
floating over stars t
i want
no more
your silver
stillicide is just;
tapping
in the midnight
cools of
dawn are just;
Glory,
in Just;
all I am,
in delicate,
no i won't, she said,
I won't..
serene, quiet
tears, can't
breathe;
no more
its just;
the colder the colds
the more it falls
the more they fall
argen
t
droplets.
and its all just;
empty sheets
and blue precipices
on violet efflux
you're just
silver specks
on sapphired breath
A matter [just] of stepping forward[one]
[more]
Or fall
on bro
ken t r
o
Tell me you're of no beauty
I'll say otherwise
Such celest
so serene,
innocent
in Glory, could not disguise;
In delicate hands
all I am
in gentle crimson caressed,
Sweet embrace
and cerulean scents
In grace, kept I dressed.
Behind gentle lids
among which mine door'lifs flutter
doth deep beauty soar,
Cascading among shuddered
celests
Beyond dashed darks
as though none'd passed,
Until to rest
in my arms once more
Rain drops trickled
like passive typewriter keys
while we waited patiently,
In silence
on a cold spring afternoon.
Steps carried across pavement
as droplets quickened their pace,
dancing about the pane
as if among white keys;
All the while, gazing upon glass
where just on the other side
Such a peace, had come to pass.
I reached for you in darkness,
yet coldness returned the grasp.
You are gone, but only so;
such vox, that can still clasp
All held with thee,
have it all already past.
In silence we waited,
as hurried steps returned.
Lest the rain shall mix with salt;
remembrance must,
that none were at fault.
A doo
You have to remember
your steps do not echo
on deaf ears
and in stillness,
silences meld with
solaces
Full heart, it cannot close
and in your eyes
swirl most delicate
flecks of
Gold.
You have to know that
those you
love
are those that
see
all
that I know in you
Resonate
every grain
even though
synthetic
lies beneath wrapped yarn
and when
pain
floods through light
Please.
Take your path
for on it is nothing but
Gold.
Know
That I love you.
When autumn sun rises and kisses the night sky farewell,
Know that I love you.
When late night's breeze tickles your tender cheek pink,
Know that I love you.
As long as the winding river that takes my soul
along each gentle ridge in the river bend,
Let my love be the bridge that guides you
safely over the soft tides.
And should other hands take yours,
And should other eyes hold you
so delicately
in each gentle laugh line's crease,
Let my arms be those you drift into
when you lay your sleeping head
amongst the stars,
And let my lips be those yours,
so soft and tender,
find in the late winter's c
There are days I want to run
screaming into the night,
but then I remember
what's down the road for me,
and I can't seem
to go anywhere but
forward.
I am
depleted
I am
careworn..
these hands,
swollen, and calloused..
but I am so in love,
tightness in my chest
that flows through me
like a deep mahogany
rich in caramel melody.
I never thought
I'd
fall this
in
love you like the yarn
loves the rosewood
in warm tones that
resonate like the
arches in Rome.
I want to sink into your arms
like a sweet melody
and it's a giant fluffy blanket
while my eyelids lower to let dreams
fill with the harmony.
I once asked a composer,
"Where do you draw from?"
as the tidal waves of his rhythms
and his melodies crashed over my head.
Where do you draw from,
that something so strong
can come from your fingertips.
Something that speaks of a beyond,
profound as the rising sun, yet
silent as black notes on paper,
that gyrate like snowflakes
in the middle of July.
The first time I met you
I melted, just like the
snowman under those fireworks
with all those notes swirling.
I never thought I'd find you
yet there you were, waiting,
while a child ran through the house
with chopsticks, pretending
everything in sight was a drum.
Waiting
when the morn grows dark and cold by jhock216, literature
Literature
when the morn grows dark and cold
I thought of you
as the nail polish crackled
on my toes,
spreading across the surface
the same way water floods
dry desert plains, thirsty
for droplets that waited to fall;
Just like I waited for you
as the sun dropped
beneath the horizon
while crumpled leaves
danced across my feet
like ballerinas in a tornado.
I need you
unnervingly, exhaustingly so..
It is what keeps those memories
coming back
in such a fluid nature.
But the melody keeps me warm.
Rich chords;
enveloping as a hot shower
on a cold morn.
Tidal waves of violet,
maroon and caramel,
spackeled with droplets of silver.
How peaceful,
as it all trickles down.
But when it'
thoughts while driving home by jhock216, literature
Literature
thoughts while driving home
Brown eyes
murky, stained-glass windows
to the worn-leather sole
Heavy eyes
because the red inside is so dense
that these weathered veins trudge
on broken soles down twisting,
writhing, ashen roads.
They long to run, to move timelessly again,
to feel the blazing, green adrenaline pulsing
in all directions.
Run, to where the earth stretches itself out,
to where the sky and land meet in the most tender
kiss of light, of fate, and the burn, the bright crimson
burn that's lived in these fibers since the dawn.
Trust, my child, and your stumbling, running legs
will no longer feel that burn that will remit to
floating over stars t
i want
no more
your silver
stillicide is just;
tapping
in the midnight
cools of
dawn are just;
Glory,
in Just;
all I am,
in delicate,
no i won't, she said,
I won't..
serene, quiet
tears, can't
breathe;
no more
its just;
the colder the colds
the more it falls
the more they fall
argen
t
droplets.
and its all just;
empty sheets
and blue precipices
on violet efflux
you're just
silver specks
on sapphired breath
A matter [just] of stepping forward[one]
[more]
Or fall
on bro
ken t r
o
Tell me you're of no beauty
I'll say otherwise
Such celest
so serene,
innocent
in Glory, could not disguise;
In delicate hands
all I am
in gentle crimson caressed,
Sweet embrace
and cerulean scents
In grace, kept I dressed.
Behind gentle lids
among which mine door'lifs flutter
doth deep beauty soar,
Cascading among shuddered
celests
Beyond dashed darks
as though none'd passed,
Until to rest
in my arms once more
Rain drops trickled
like passive typewriter keys
while we waited patiently,
In silence
on a cold spring afternoon.
Steps carried across pavement
as droplets quickened their pace,
dancing about the pane
as if among white keys;
All the while, gazing upon glass
where just on the other side
Such a peace, had come to pass.
I reached for you in darkness,
yet coldness returned the grasp.
You are gone, but only so;
such vox, that can still clasp
All held with thee,
have it all already past.
In silence we waited,
as hurried steps returned.
Lest the rain shall mix with salt;
remembrance must,
that none were at fault.
A doo
thoughts while driving home by jhock216, literature
Literature
thoughts while driving home
Brown eyes
murky, stained-glass windows
to the worn-leather sole
Heavy eyes
because the red inside is so dense
that these weathered veins trudge
on broken soles down twisting,
writhing, ashen roads.
They long to run, to move timelessly again,
to feel the blazing, green adrenaline pulsing
in all directions.
Run, to where the earth stretches itself out,
to where the sky and land meet in the most tender
kiss of light, of fate, and the burn, the bright crimson
burn that's lived in these fibers since the dawn.
Trust, my child, and your stumbling, running legs
will no longer feel that burn that will remit to
floating over stars t
UPDATE: Submissions to the contest are now closed. Watch for an announcement on the results.
The Prompt
Use an object to connect the lives of two or more otherwise unrelated characters.
:pointr: Contest Begins on June 1st, 2012.
:pointr: Contest Ends on August 1st, 2012 at 11:59pm Pacific Time
The Rules
:bulletgreen: All entries must be Literature. Prose, Poetry, and Scripts are accepted. No visual poetry; concrete is allowed.
:bulletblue: All entries must be written specifically for this contest, uploaded to dA on or after June 1st, 2012.
:bulletgreen: All entries must include a link to this contest journal in the artist's comment of the
They imprisoned her for her father's vocal arguments that android's do have souls, since he was out of reach. "Blasphemy must be punished," said the clergyman to the sounds of a slamming door and clacking lock.
Today, they mockingly toss David's broken body into her prison with her. She circles him inspecting the damage, and looking for a flicker of life. "If the spark is not yet fled...", she thinks to herself. The club that they struck him with when he leapt to her defense had separated the top of his head. David's empty, staring eyes, the clear separation of his spine somewhere internally and the gradual ooze of his hydraulic blood leaves
Seriously.
The musical revolution of the world should, no, must be introduced into the midst of all artists here. Music being available on deviantART is something that I would have expected long ago. It is an art form that travels through the core of a person and evokes feeling of sudden realization or just sweet lulling bliss. I know it will be difficult, but it should at least be tried.
I have only come across one person of deviantART (Who is absolutely brilliant let me say) Who has been able to upload music on deviantART quite cleverly if I say so my self. You have probably heard of this awesomeness that is RainCookie (https://www.deviantart.com/raincookie)
She created t
how do you write like that? by ButterfliKissed, literature
Literature
how do you write like that?
"How do you write like that?"
~~~
Imagine splitting yourself into several pieces. One piece for each character and another piece for an outsider. The biggest part of you goes where the point of view is, whether that's a character or the outsider.
Now visualize the scene. What's the "big idea"? What are the individual characters doing? Which ones are interacting? What are their personalities? Is she shy and fearful of him rejecting her? How does she act on that insecurity? Does she withdraw from him, obsess from afar, or conquer her fear and take control of the situation? Does he even notice her? Base the characters off someone real, that a
As I walked down that mundane path,
On that rainy, nippy October eve,
I marvelled at how nothing had changed,
And I felt that old sense of qui vive,
What lay ahead I didnot know,
What lay behind I cared not for,
Had time chosen to nurse those wounds?
That had harried those days of yore.
With every step I broke my resolve,
A tryst with myself made so long ago,
With every adding year the longing grew,
Until those bonds of blood began to flow.
The everlasting miles ceased not to cease, as I began to remember,
How father had disowned me when I floundered to walk his way,
So I left for the city with only my dreams clasped in my pock
So.. into week 3 of sophomore year already... and it feels like at least a couple months have gone by haha. The first week of classes, I was more of a September kind of tired instead of a 'just got done with week 1' kind of exhausted... it was weird!
Classes so far are good.. only in two ensembles this year and they're both the top ones which means this baldy can keep her talent grant!! They're both the ensembles I wanted to make as well :) happy Jami.
However the amount of bull that's already happened this year is a little ridiculous! Drama already beginning, let alone the bureaucracy here was WAAAYYYY behind at the beginning of the year a
Welp. Survived year one at WIU, and now on summer break. Not for long though, since summer classes start June 11th and I still have to pass a math placement test *bites fingernails* but it should be alright.
My first year of college was a good one. First semester was filled with marching band and then just concert band.. followed by a hint of pep band and U band.. but it was relatively quiet. I started with 16 credit hours and by the end of the semester it was knocked down to 13. I had to drop some ensembles since the tendonitis in my right wrist also became present in my left wrist as well, throughout the course of the marching band season,
Nothin like getting a Daily Lit Feature on mah 19th birthday!!!
Today had its ups and downs... but I feel like the ups outweighed the low points.. finally got to play with my jazz combo tonight!! For all my friends that came to the cafe all the combos were at!! After that, we just had a giant jam session, with rhythm sections from any combo (there's four) (also by 'combo', I mean smaller jazz ensemble that does gigs like Cafe Aroma, Country Club, etc) and any horn players that wanted to jump in! It was wonderful and was a perfect way to end a great day! And I played a lot better than I anticipated hehehe :D
here's to mah last year as a tee