Taceinsensa Whittier-Bacchus by RavenC, literature
Literature
Taceinsensa Whittier-Bacchus
The hair of golden wheat fields
The eyes of burning emeralds
The thin, starved body of a beggar
The mind of gold
And the heart of a diamond
Her face may have been beautiful
Once
Now, it's cold, hard with unresolved fury.
Her body, tall and thin,
Perhaps could a model make?
If she ever ate
Intelligence of a scholar
She only made it to ninth grade
But she was the brightest of her class
Her heart is made of Diamond
Cold, hard cut, impossible to mar
Hatred was the heat
Persecution was the mold
A flawless diamond was then created
It's clear, yet the light distorted
So all images inside are hardly defined
Although this stone ma
Music our bridges and chasims by RavenC, literature
Literature
Music our bridges and chasims
Music reaches the world
The styles change, the lyrics change
But in the end, the world listens to a tune
Songs are bridges
Which span the divide
Set between our hearts
But oddly, it also adds more too
They like rap
They square dance to country
They're metal heads
While they jam to reggae
Oddly enough, change the tune
Change the wording,
Change the lead singer
And the same song the rappers love
The metal heads enjoy
Perform the same dissection
Country kids start singing the tune
Music lets us understand each other
Through simple verse and rhyme
But… music also creates chasms
We're loosing each other to different styles
Lover left
Family hates you
No one seems to care
Perhaps you'll live alone and crying.
Get a grip.
Put your 'grown up' undies on
Deal.
Tomorrow's going to come, like it or not
Shut up.
Being depressed ain't gonna help.
No one is alone.
You have friends,
You don't need a lover to be in company
You can't be alone.
Not with so many people on earth
Depression doesn't help
Your backlash from the relationship rollercoaster,
Forget it, it'll heal.
Get on the ride again,
Conquer it, master it
And one day, you'll be sitting on it with a lover again
Pen and paper in my hand,
Thoughts begin to pour
Memories of recent things
Burn my mind, scorch my eyes
She wounded me badly,
Months ago, but it seems to be only days
The thought of her still sets
The pins in my chest aflame
The coldness she showed me,
The burning hate she gave,
For a while, I thought, I'd grown immune,
But it's all coming back to me now
Now, she's doing it again,
But now, it's not me
She slashes at my dear friend's heart,
And mine, it withers in the heat.
My eyes fight the tears again,
Wondering if this pain will be shared again
Will that girl slice again?
Will she rip the soul out of another friend?
Now
My time of silence is over
The time for crying is gone
I won't give myself any more empty promises
I'll stop listening to music, any all its deceiving angst
I'll open my eyes, and show myself a world of truth
And this will be the world it ought to be.
I've seen through love's illusions and seen the danger,
But now, that doesn't matter at all.
I'll turn my head from the bleak shadows
Throw away my black hair dye,
And the knives once I used on my wrists
I've gotten rainbows of colors to bring life back
Miracles won't happen, unless…
Unless you make them happen
I'll turn and face the east, the sun rising in my face
Smiling, becau
Angel, angel
On the ground
Angel, angel
To weak to hide his wings
Getting drenched by the rain
Shiver, shiver,
Nowhere to go
Shiver, shiver
Too cold to think
Splash, splash
Little footsteps come running
Splash, splash
Little boy takes the angel by the hand
And leads him to a drier place.
Misery, better known as Mahlah, walked awkwardly to God. She was scared, but not because she was afraid of God; she was afraid of what he might say.
"God," Mahlah spoke softly, "How was I created?"
God smiled gently at the soft spoken woman, and put a hand on her head before saying, "that, my love, is a long story, and if you sit down, I shall tell you."
Mahlah, more terrified than ever, she sat next to God, who followed suit, still smiling.
"So," god began, "you wish to know how you were created." He stretched out, obviously thinking over what he was going to say, before beginning.
"You and your four siblings were created the sa
A blonde haired, scrappy teenage boy quickly pressed the button to go down on the lift. He tried to look as innocent as he could, as he hid stolen sandwiches in his hood. He sighed in relief, as the lift moved slowly down.
A few well-dressed white-collars glared at him as they got off. Unperturbed and used to this treatment, he stepped on, and pressed the lobby button, hoping that no one would come on. His hope was shattered as the lift came to a stop on the seventh floor.
Beverly checked her watch before she stepped on the elevator. She couldn't afford to be back late to lunch; and she had fifty three minutes. As she stepped on the
When you're young,
You want to grow up fast.
When you're old,
You want to be young again
Everything happens so fast
Blink
Its spring
Blink
Its fall
Blink
It's a new year already
I learn nothing in school
It goes by too fast
I learn it to do the homework
Then forget it
For the next stuff
I'm expected to
Grow up.
Now.
I can't be a kid
I go to school
I have no free time
I suffer the mental torment
From other students and home
I'm barley 14
And my friend needs help
Their love life
And they're MY age.
They're getting
Stoned
High
Drunk
And they're under aged
I've got a collection
Of makeup that
I've got from whe
Shima's day so far was good. She had managed to get her mother to give her 15 dollars to spend at Collectors Comics and Manga store. The day was perfect, the sky was idiotically blue, and the breeze was soft and cool.
Then all hell broke loose.
Shima heard some racket coming from the store a few feet away. Chaos drew her to the store as a bee to honey. She was excited as she wondered what was happening today.
There was the shopkeeper, holding a small boy in his arms, holding a knife to his throat. The boy seemed mare angry than scared of the man who was controlling his life span.
"Stop it!" Shima yelled, nervous.
The shopkeeper
The Anarchist isn't
The popular kids
They're above them!
The Anarchist isn't
The teachers
The teacher's don't help
The Anarchist is
Thirteen years old
They rule Their domain
With a iron fist
And a gentle heart
They don't let
Popular hurt us
No matter what
The teachers say
"They're a Menace to
the well Adjusted,
All American children"
They say,
They're wrong.
The Anarchist
Cares for the little
People who haven't a backbone
And steal the
Popular kids
"Pride of Power"
And gives it to us.
They don't care when
Kids tease them
They say "thank you"
I like the Anarchist
She's very, very
Cool
Good Friends
Laugh at you.
When
You say something Stupid
When you trip and fall
When you say a joke
Whither it's funny or not.
But they don't laugh
When your grandmother dies
When you lover leaves
When you get hurt
Except, when you laugh first
You see,
Good friends
Care
Share
(Well, not everything)
And don't forget,
They love to see you happy
And they love it when you
Laugh.
There's nothing here to see
There's nothing here to hear
There's nothing here to feel
And I don't want to go home right now.
There's nothing their, either.
There's a blank void
In my heart,
In my eyes,
And there's not much to replace it with
There's silence here, and I can't
Make noise
I need someone, to open my mind,
And my heart again,
I'm disappearing
There's nothing to be done,
I can't stop thinking of the
Person who left,
Dammit! Why did you do that?
Alcohol Killed you,
What about your family?
Your son is only 12
I'm hurting, you left,
Stolen by toxins
By the thing that eased to pain
Alcohol, Dammit!
The Kidneys
You, are so stupid, an ameba seems like Einstein next to you.
You are a bad excuse for a cold wet pile of dog vomit!
You are the most idiotic, cretin of a weed user that I have ever seen.
I refuse to answer such a stupid thing. Although, that's probably the best thing you can think of. Oh well.
You constipated, Acid abusing, impenetrable, heap of dog feces.
Can't you think of ANYTHING better to say?
Why do you take Pot EVERY TIME before you talk to me? Oh wait, you didn't? Could fool me.
Why should I listen to you? Eating a hunk of lead would be more useful, or sticking your head in a trash compactor… Hm. That's an idea…
Thank
You say you need a Hero?
Well.
Wonder Woman's busy
Her schedule's full with
Woman support groups
Super Man's off
Making more plans
With that "Lex" Guy
Bat man's Hanging with
His Bat buddies
They were calling
Robin's hanging with
Starfire, Raven,
And Beast boy.
Well.
I'll pull out my old sewing kit
And that Halloween costume
And Fix it up.
And Close the moth holes
And let it down a few inches
A HERO IS BORN!
I'm "Normal Girl"
All the good identities were taken
I've got a pair of blue jeans
With red "NG" all over the pant legs
I've got a T-shirt
It's black, and it has
White and green
Patterns. I made them myself.
I stared at the wall
What does it all mean?
I sit here, all the time,
What does it all mean?
Why did I say that?
Why do I so confused?
Why am I this well spring of angst?
I stare at the knife,
No, I'm not desperate,
Or depressed
I stare at the children,
Playing out side
I'm not happy enough to go to play
I'm pointless, I don't matter
In the big picture,
And when I die,
I will quickly
Forgotten
To the
Wind
…
You say you need a Hero?
Well.
Wonder Woman's busy
Her schedule's full with
Woman support groups
Super Man's off
Making more plans
With that "Lex" Guy
Bat man's Hanging with
His Bat buddies
They were calling
Robin's hanging with
Starfire, Raven,
And Beast boy.
Well.
I'll pull out my old sewing kit
And that Halloween costume
And Fix it up.
And Close the moth holes
And let it down a few inches
A HERO IS BORN!
I'm "Normal Girl"
All the good identities were taken
I've got a pair of blue jeans
With red "NG" all over the pant legs
I've got a T-shirt
It's black, and it has
White and green
Patterns. I made them myself.
Current Residence: I'm kinda lost... Do I live here? and if not, will you still feed me? Favourite genre of music: Anything but Rap, Country, and R+B Favourite photographer: SAT and Ansel Adams Favourite style of art: My Morpy-kun Operating System: Windows XP. I swear It's XP for a reason MP3 player of choice: Windows Media player. It's the only one I can figure out how to make a endless loop Shell of choice: Turtle! Wallpaper of choice: I like orange! Skin of choice: Yuki Sohmas. Nummy... :P Favourite cartoon character: Yuki Sohma, Sakura Kinomoto, Mimiru... Personal Quote: You're yourself and thats all you will want to be
Favourite Visual Artist
Nata
Favourite Movies
... That one... You know... where the girl is doing the thing... Aww... What's it called...
Watley is his name, and now he's sucessfully buried him, and no, I didn't help.
Anyway, the reason I freaked so hard is that I found the body. -...- Least the maggots didn't get to him yet. Sadly, he was a FRAGRANT corpse. I have yet to go back into the garage, (where I found him) but I have recovered, and I hardly have internet anymore. With hopes, We'll be getting internet and cable at the new house.
Oddly enough, he died on the day we were going to move the pets. I guess he didn't wanna go. the old fart. :XD:
I got a new computer, his name is Ophiuchus. If you guys haven't guessed, I'm trying not to think about the dead mutt. H
-- An ~Anti-Spammer production -- come join us! --
This account has been created to track the growing number of spammers that are on dA. These spammers are not only harrasing deviants with spam but also defacing other innocent and unwary deviants by using names that are similar or linking to peoples pages.
It's shocking - but true!
I will be listing know spammers in the attached journal so please check often.
Some of these spammers even post such disgusting things as:
I'm not posting that on my journal
anyway. That came in my messages this morning. why I'm up at six o' clock doing stuff, I don't know, but I DO know I'm going to regret
Do you feel different? Special? Did you know that today's forecast is unlimited birthday wishes and a whole lot of fun! Happy birthday Buddy....May you blow many more candles...Have a blast *throws confetti around*