|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Ode to TranquilityOde to Tranquility
Let there be a moment-a moment-
When I can hear my thoughts
When I can listen to my heart
For the misguided masses around me
Spread their empty confusion
Like a quilt o'er the land
Smothering the serenity
They fear the silence
They think silence means death
Do they know that the dead are happy?
They lie below in tranquility
Leaving behind their cares
Oh, let there be a moment
When I can sit or lie like them
Eye of the StormEye of the Storm
Around me, so much confusion
Outdoors, but indoors too
Things happen that I cannot resolve
But whenever the storm blows hard
I head straight away for the 'eye'
She is there, waiting, and I grow calm
We lie down together and embrace
She knows that I am never upset with her
Always patient and innocent
She reminds me that I must be too
Then I am
Love needs calm and peace
That is always her message to me
For Love Beyond DeathFor Love Beyond Death
"till death do us part"?
Sir Gerald had a fine lover
For many years they did love
Then, one eve, he found her library
And therein a curious book
It scorned the way that men and women met
It scorned how they vowed to love after death
The author averred that she lost the will
Until she learned that, beyond the grave,
A love existed unbounded by time
Then she sought death and the beyond
Sir Gerald had a fine lover
For many years they did love
Then he found her book and, beside, a note
His lover had taken her life
Sir Gerald lives alone, these days
He neither reads her book
Nor longs to love again
Love Is...[part 2]Love Is...
If someone claims they know,
They really do not know.
Those who know may never tell.
Then, go and learn't for yeself.
It is a tremendous sensation.
The touch of flesh,
Pressing breast on breast.
The flow of the breath up[on the cheek.
The glow in the eyes,
As she looks into yours,
As though the moon is reflected.
It may be.
The voice in a whisper in your ear:
She is hot, till she collapses in your embrace
Her fire, your water
This is Love.
Do not believe my words.
Go, find your true lover.
This LifeThis Life
They teach us all
That life is just a wish
We were not, until we want to be
Where the Heart IsWhere the Heart Is
"Home is where the heart is"
I have heard younger people moan
That the cities have no love
I warned them that since they have left home
They must find love where they stay
Love is not fixed like a tree
It is always and only in the heart
If you really feel it, it will be there
But over these years, I have learned
That the most love is in my room
Therein dwells a jewel-like soul
Always ready to give and share love
That soul is Puabi.
To TranquilityTo Tranquility
Lo! the sky has darkened beyond my gaze
The stars all shine above
Lying still in my bath
When no thoughtless fools cross my path
My mind and heart turns to thoughts of Love
Her gentle voice calls to me
Her eyes twinkle like those stars
'T is not so hard to realize
How much serenity means to the heart
When the domicile is silent
Love's voice can be clearly heard
Let us have more nights like this
And an end to pointless words
Streaming TearsStreaming Tears
Dictated by Puabi
Nothing in this world brings a tear
To a devoted woman's eyes
More than to see the man she loves in pain.
Time and again he tells me
"Please don't cry."
But they come streaming down again.
There can be no doubt of his love;
He cannot bear to see me so sad.
He is by far the best man
That I have ever known and had.
"Beloved, please be well!"
"Lover, be not so worried now.
Nothing lasts so long except our Love."
"Oh, I am sure that it is true, beloved.
I have prayed to those above."
"Be certain that they shall help us both,
For they have sent us to each other.
They must surely know what may befall
A good man and his lover."
-This is my word of assurance to Puabi.
Rain Poem #33Rain Poem #33
The rain fell in a torrent tonight
We lay in bed and listened
The voice of the rain was soft and low
It nearly lulled us to sleep
We turned to gaze at each other
She smiled and whispered to me
I reached over to embrace her
Safe and sound she was in my arms♥
The rain may fall for one hour
It may fall all night long
It may not stop until morning
We neither know nor care
There is always one another
~~~Let the rain pour down~~~♥
Call Me Anything...Call me ugly,
But I'm beautiful within.
Call me a geek,
But I'll get a future.
Call me a freak,
But I am unique.
Call me unpopular,
But I have real friends.
Call me anything,
But I'm a human being.
I am me,
and YOU cannot change that.
In loveI think I'm in love
With someone I don't deserve
To me she's just perfect
In every possible way
The white of her skin
The black of her hair
The shadow in her eyes
All together make my day
Much easier to endure
We only talked a few times
But she could be the one
The one who will save me
From my life of misery
But how will she react
When she sees my scars?
When she knows about my demons?
When she realizes I'm broken (beyond repair)?
Will she accept me for who I am?
Or just walk away?
I only want her to be happy
If not with me
Then in any other way she wants
The oneI'm looking
For that person
I don't have to lie to
I can be myself around
Who accepts me for who I am
I can tell everything to
Who understands me
Who is always there for me
I can do all these things for as well
Let me be your poem.Let me melt the cold pain from your skin, transform into the sun and heat your hurt––so it evaporates into white clouds of hope that inspires the trees to sway.
Let me touch you like the first story I've ever read in brail, after deciding to go deaf before letting another sound replace your voice.
Let me shatter every tiny ounce of doubt from your being, using the weight of my love for you–– to demolish it's once relevant place in your thoughts.
Let me carve holes in to the night sky, so you can see how my universe revolves solely around you, making the moon shine bright with jealousy.
Let me fly you to the nearest nebula, so we can finally be as high as this love makes me feel.
Let me drive you crazy like a mirage in a desolate desert, making you crave it so much you imagine it in front of you, dying for a taste.
Let me be the sun to warm you and you can be the rain to cool us down, and we can make the sky blush a million different colours.
Let me be the baseli
Her Song.She holds on to your memory.
Keeps your picture near at all times.
Dark curls and green eyes.
Perfect white teeth.
A sharp chin.
When she sits down at the keyboard to play;
She'll hear the words in her ears:
The sound of love.
'I love it when you smile..'
Her fingertips grace the keys, black and white.
Turning pink and red.
'You ARE beautiful'.
The sound of countless sunsets fills the dusty room.
Your arm flits around her shoulders, it is but a memory.
Just a memory.
You are a ghost that listens to her talk to herself.
You are the air against her lips.
You're nothing but a memory.
The sound of picnics in the park graces your ears.
She never would have done this without him.
A helping voice in her ears;
'B flat. No, no baby, B flat.'
The sound of heartbreak fills the room.
She has to stop the song.
You won't come back.
She went, all dressed in black.
A single rose.
And a tissue under her nose
Written WordChildren of the written word
You wield in your minds, voices and fingers
The weaponry you need to fight for truth
In your minds, the ideas
In your voices, the ways to speak your minds
In your fingers, the tools to record them
Stand up and shout out for truth
Fight against the tyranny of evil
Don't sit back while darkness spreads its filth
Address the night as it is
And hand out forgiveness where it is due
For words of passion and love will endure
Rise, oh warriors of truth
Narrate all you can, oh storytellers
Be observant and watchful, oh poets
Let your diction be your sword
As children of the written word, be strong
And spread your words like a raging wildfire
Skywriter ManifestoFold your poems into tiny paper lanterns and send them to the sky.
Light them up and let them go.
Don’t just be a writer.
Be a skywriter
Flying paper planes through restricted air.
Don’t just be an artist.
Be a Styrofoam sculptor,
So that in the event of a flood,
Something you make might keep you afloat.
When people tell you you don’t get gravity,
Tell them no,
It is they,
Who don’t understand
Let your words always be buoyant.
Let them be lifeboats blown up by big lungs of helium.
Hollow their bones.
Let them be brittle
But indomitable dirigibility.
Poetry is for the birds.
And if they must come down
Let them come down
Stuck with little bits of cloud
And miscellaneous sky-stuff.
Let them come down like pillowguts are down.
Let them quilt the ground.
Let them Mother Goose it
And kiss it good night.
Whatever you do,
Just let them be light.
Love Is...Love Is...
Is not just a word
Not just an emotion
Love is a whole experience
A new, seldom truly discovered world
It reveals its many splendours in the hearts
Of those in Love
Neither she nor I could realize this
Until that moment came to us
Once it came
We desired to be nowhere else
Inspector Wolf The old lady was dead. I could smell it before I even got into the house. The whole place reeked of adrenaline, sweat, fear, copper and steel. He’d dropped her right in her living room. Chopped and chopped until she stopped moving. But I could tell I was getting close. This had been done in a hurry, and the killer didn’t have the time to clean up after himself like he usually did.
Across the room, the phone rang. The shrill sound set my teeth to grinding, but I ignored it. Instead I followed the killer’s bloody footprints into the back bedroom. He’d climbed out the window. If I hurried, I could catch up to him and end this disgusting spree he was on.
Then the answering machine kicked in. “Hi, Gramma! It’s Red. Sorry I’m running late. I kind of lost track of time. But don’t worry. I packed the picnic and I’m heading out the door right now. Love you.”
She’d been expec
The TrundlerThe waste land behind the fire station is always silent. No birds sing there, and even the wild rabbits and feral cats avoid it. Weedy wildflowers nod their seasonal heads in the breeze. Lying fallow in the midst of housing developments, shopping malls, the new movie theater — the vacant lot stands out like a knife wound on a woman’s placid face, shocking, brazen, ugly.
It is always empty. Except for one thing: a ragged heap of old trash, all nasty black tar paper and vicious snarls of rusted wire, car parts and broken glass and other junkyard jetsam. The embodiment of injury waiting to happen, an invitation to a tetanus shot... the city never hauled it away. No one ever wants anywhere near it; it radiates an eerie sense of calculating watchfulness.
And at night, it wanders.
When darkness falls, and the last cars heading into the hives of tract housing stop illuminating the asphalt with moving-picture shadows, it… unfolds. Bitter, broken tangles, grotesquely mov
Keep in Touch!
scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More