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Lines on Wine and LoveLines on Wine and Love
My red wine is almost drunk
My blood remains warm and full
Full of what, she always knows
Like my blood, love will flow
Until my last breath is breathed
But neither of us can tell
Till then, we simply love
Lines On WineLines Written
The finest, smoothest medicine
That I could ever find
It keeps my blood in circulation
Strengthens my old mind
I take a glass of it every day
After I dine
It was in ancient Greece
The elixir divine
Accepted by Kahlil Gibran
And the pre-islamic Parsis
Hail to the vine
The Last AdventureThe Last Adventure
Life is an adventure
Going to new places,
Seeing new faces.
Making new friends.
A great adventure.
But, in the end,
There is one last adventure
We'll be doing that till we die.
It's called Love.
The GlowThe Glow
Dictated by Puabi
What brings a glow of fire
To a single woman's eyes?
What curves her red lips
Into a joyful smile?
The promise, the delivery,
The receipt of love.
When she was waiting
Such a long while,
And it comes to her heart
In her surprise.
Imagine, when it comes
To a woman like me,
The brightness of the glow
In her eyes.
The AccursedThe Accursed
Cole Dawson was a vigilante with a curse
But that would not twist his soul
He believed since his childhood days
That he had a role to play for the world
So the day came when he had to play it
His beloved town was at a terrible risk
Cole ignored his curse
And answered the call right quick
But when came night and the moon was full
Cole's curse flared typically
His limbs shed human hair for lupine stuff
His eyes flared and his teeth grew sharp
Cole continued his task despite the change
And pursued his foe like wolves hunt sheep
By dawn the town lay calm and free
The Scourge of the ContinentThe Scourge of the Continent
If there ever was a beast that made men shudder
That made the wise men regret their births
That made the bravest men scamper
That would be olde Gardammer
The most evil dragon that walked the earth
Never was it benignant
With a tyrannical bent to conquer and rule
Definitively a carnivore
Such creatures never were herbivores
He made the Goths lose their minds
He made the Gauls gulp their wines
And made the clever wish to be fools
Gardammer lay far below the local church
By a crazed priest with a grudge against his brothers
That made the monster cannibalistic in nature
Eating the priests then, and later others
The Sea MonsterThe Sea Monster*
The evening sky was dull and dark
The waves, they crested high
The scout peered through his telescope
But it seemed no land was nigh
Not a hill or shore in sight
The waves rocked and shook the ship
The ship seemed doomed to sink
Then a mighty length of slimy scales reached out
It's complexion dark as ink
It entwined round the aft before anyone could think
From what they saw, it seemed unlike
An octopus or squid
But none on board had time to probe
In an instead all were dead
And the ship lay on the sea bed
Woman's CharmsWoman's Charms
For me, the first and foremost,
It is in most of my poetry
The second is her touch
That small, slender hand
The third is no less powerful
That is her tears
(Why does she cry?)
Tender, happy tears
To be in love
After so long
Mental Disorder Discrimination"You said you've got depression?
No you don't, you attention seeker.
You're just an average teenager with the perfect life
Desperately looking for sympathy."
Stop crying, you coward.
You're just a childish "scaredy-cat".
Blaming your problems on a mental disorder
That doesn't even exist."
"So you're schizophrenic?
Grow the hell up, and stop acting like a child
You're too old for imaginary friends
You callow, juvenile, little twit."
But if we're attention seekers,
Why do we try so hard to hide our feelings from the world?
Why do we isolate ourselves in our rooms,
Desperately hiding the cuts on our wrists
Trying our best to live a normal life?
And if we're simply "scaredy-cats",
Why is our fear so vividly intense?
Unlike simple fear, our anxiety will stick with us forever
A severe long-lasting feeling of powerful panic.
A feeling from which we'll never be free.
Suddenly we're childish for having a mental disorder?
Schizophrenia is not something we can control.
YouIf you’re a girl, you’re a girl.
If you’re a boy, you’re a boy.
If you’re white, you’re white.
If you’re black, you’re black.
If you’re gay, you’re gay.
If you’re bi, you’re bi.
If you’re straight, you’re straight.
If you’re religious, you’re religious.
If you’re an atheist, you’re an atheist.
If you’re mentally disabled, you’re still human.
If you’re physically disabled, you’re still human.
For everything you are:
So who are they to judge you for who you are?
to me you are perfect
I do not know the reasons
for all those scars burning
against your bright skin
you've been soaking
a pain reminiscing from past
we both cannot recollect
yet you are so beautiful..
when night gets darker
and I am the one...
who's hungered to undress
the spirit of you
slowly revealing the layers
coming off from shadows
disguised in desires
craving to be fulfilled
I will caress every corner
of your silhouette
until I figure the true shape
of your heart
I will rub those blisters
softly until every nerve
of you gushes into a river
and you moan into a life
I had promised you
years ago when we began
to breathe into each other
for all the truths
I must swallow
and lessons I must learn
you are the one
I am destined to discover
what it means
to love in perfection
daydreams and monsters.she was a girl.
she ran with the moon,
chased fireflies in the bluegrass, and
watched the reflection of sunsets in rain puddles.
her name was Alice,
and she was a girl.
but to the dragonflies she was a queen,
and to the mirror she was a sister.
the moon was her prince, and the
blinking windows were the eyes
that kept her safe.
she spent her nights making wishes, and she
dragged her fingers along the shooting stars
that were tangled with her vertebrae.
her name was Alice,
and she was a girl.
her body was a river
her mind was an ocean
and her heart was the sky.
she lived in a world where
doves flew in the sea and
whales swam in the
i can't keep walking on these dry-rot bonesoh, i am not a poet;
like the ink scratches
of plath, i am
specter boy: decay,
dispose, & disappoint
because this is the way
that writers wane -
(this hangman head is no
survivor story, & gods
do not burn out
poem for borderlinesif i could concentrate over
seven hundred thousand eyes
at the roof to the numbers stepping
from the nicities & rows
to go back
to the shattered surface
& the ripples beating over the hang
halfway between shallow
biting lips. maybe--
she couldn't have known
that it takes a whole three minutes
for the lungs to
well, maybe she
who, oh well
the white; the haze--
the booming over
the spume and spray
me get out of my head
just pull up the shutters
my tongue the weight to talk
but that's all we'll ever be:
a match burning itself out for
under the backspray of someone else's wheels
No Coffee is Sweet Without YouNo Coffee is Sweet Without You
"In the Name of Love"
Hazelnut in my cappuccino
Caramel in mocha too
But I can only think
That if the coffee is sweet
It is because I have you
I have tasted many cups before
Can I say that I enjoyed them all?
I finished each one
Because I felt it was what I should do
But if I said they were sweet
It may be untrue
If my coffee is sweet
It is because I have you
Keep in Touch!
Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More