And Now I ComprehendWhen her scent is forgotten,
When the night stretches long, I now comprehend.
May passion continue, fate smile, life remain and blossom.
Newest
Broken BraceletAs we were joined another link was rent To the land where your consumate days were spent Warm wooden beads, too light an anchor When attachments hungry canker devoured those roots Which once drunk from fertile soil ripe with lifeBroken Bracelet
You gave to me
That simple circuit that embraced your wrist So sadly severed by our own soft spent embrace Each round moon disappated into the darkness of that dingy back bedroom
And always i find them, shining through the cracks and crumbling corners Of life's mundane facade
by ~Dark-Entries
The Youngman's ValedictionHe remembers the young man Who stood so tall and proud,The Youngman's Valediction
Whilst his charges withered and died Their sunken chests, Ribs protruding like teeth, Maws gaping for sustenance, Even when withered to a husk Stacked like kindling for the fires, The never ending carrion fires,
Whose hellish glow casts twisted shadows That looms from the darkest corners of his mind.
A dim outline of that young man, A figure in the fog
Amidst the choking carrion stench The one who was so alien, so horrifying Even through the haze of long years
He remembers the
by ~Dark-Entries
BeyondI yearn beyond those gentle eyesBeyond
to what lies amongst the fundamental forces and byzantine machinery of life. Where in that labyrinth of silent synapses did it
originate?
Which microscopic moment first left it's
mark? It that subsumes my ego yet strengthens my soul.
by ~Dark-Entries
The Paradox of the SoulThe soul, a collection of divinely imperfect emotions, Rolled into one frail organic vessel, A being of unfathomable complexity, That longs for an unattainable simplicity,The Paradox of the Soul
True pleasure impossible without the touch of pain True pain impossible without the touch of pleasure What is “truth” but a collection of misinterpretations and lies? And are lies not merely a deviation of fundamental truths?
It is at our most base and vulgar levels we yearn for complexity, And in our highest most intricate states of thought that we long for the clear light of simple understanding
by ~Dark-Entries
Random Favourites
My LoveMy love is like a flower blooming in the snow, Putting forth petals where no other plant will grow, I don't know what you did to make this fragile flower rise, Breaking through frozen ground and reaching for the skies.My Love
My soul is now a garden, filled with flowers you have grown, Each separate act of kindness reminds me I'm not alone, There flowers bloom now all year round, No dead petals lie on life filled ground.
What was once a barren wasteland, Now turned to green meadows by you hand, But its beauty is only a reflection of your own, It would wither and die with
by ~xancithus
Who cares what I call it..It's almost as if I'm invisible, I smile but you remain cold. It's like you can not hear me, Soft "I Love you"'s fall on deaf ears. It's as if you don't know who I am, Maybe in fact you don't. It's like when you are near me, You are a statue, and no more.Who cares what I call it..
by ~harlzdevilwoman
YearningdeviantID
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: Lincolnshire, The flattest dullest county in England
- Interests: Philosophy, History, Theology, Art, Music, Literature, Politics and the occult
- Favourite movie: Eraserhead
- Favourite band or musician: Sisters of Mercy, Cradle Of Filth, Bauhaus, Deathstars, Type O Neg, Nirvana????
- Favourite genre of music: Metal Rock
- Favourite artist: Francis Bacon
- Favourite poet or writer: Ted Hughs, Chuck Palahniuk
- Favourite style of art: Surrealism, abstraction, sociopolitical
- Operating System: Auto-Doc
- Favourite game: Fallout 2
- Favourite gaming platform: PC
- Personal Quote: "Growth for the sake of growth is the ideology of the cancer cell"
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--
Never judge a man till you have walked a mile in his shoes, 'cuz by then, he's a mile away, you've got his shoes, and you can say whatever the hell you want to.
--
'Shoot, shoot again, shoot once more, misfire and throw my model at the wall.' Only the best of us, only the best.
-Ishy
--
"Ten years before, she would have been considered pretty; now, with lines around her mouth and the stain of persistent dissapointment in her eyes, she was almost beautiful."
from "The Dumb House" - John Burnside
In my comment on your latest poem, I said I'd send you some links to some of my rather more verbose pieces
[link]
[link]
Tim
xxx
--
Never judge a man till you have walked a mile in his shoes, 'cuz by then, he's a mile away, you've got his shoes, and you can say whatever the hell you want to.
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