Newest
be gentle with your wonder.blankets touching frigid toes softly, softly, softly...be gentle with your wonder.
roll and grasp and move and feel, drifting through the creek. autumn’s victims scream and cry. no one hears their plea for the sympathy of strangers;
the half-buried face of ignoble weathered pasts.
that vast horizon speaks in the language of the trees. weighted, weighted, falling, so we’ve missed that precious truth.
now it’s zoom and beep and swoosh, with tragic elevation. the labyrinth consumes us, for we never understood. shaking vision in this land of aching
by ~asymptoticbehaviour
what is it we seek?what is it we seek? is it love? happiness? validation? what drives us to live? what causes our pain? can we learn to forgive and break free of our chains? are you sure you'll endure the storms thundering rain, all alone on the throne of your wondering brain? ... and the slain; should we weep? those who pass in their sleep; should we mourn for their loss as they cross and they creep into heaven above? what is it we seek? is it love? is it sex? is it hate? is it control, and the power twhat is it we seek?
by ~asymptoticbehaviour
the greatest gift of all.conflicted shifting levered weightness; never understands the fools who combine with climbing leathers, and in time rewind the whools.the greatest gift of all.
clever woman with the photos, always seeking, never shright. collect the tokens while the walrus flies his merry little kite...
and the kitten; oh, the kitten! see her tender little paws? if you frighten her you might just find the sharp end of her claws!
not to worry for the windstorm will end by the break of day, and we’ll ne’er regret the moment that we stopped, and chose to stay. &
by ~asymptoticbehaviour
no running in the halls.“ok, children!” yelled the teacher, and attention came to yield. little tim and silly sam all came in running from the field. when they got there everybody was all lined up in a row but what for? a ceremony that no child seemed to know.no running in the halls.
mrs. beltonshire called the girls in, one by one, by name and she asked about the mess left and “can anyone explain?” several moments passed ‘fore little henrietta johnson spoke, and at once it became clear that what she said was not a joke.
“we didn’t mean to, mrs. beltonshire.” “you didn’t mean to what?” “we didn’t mean to paint the ce
by ~asymptoticbehaviour
Favourites
Journal
No journal entries yet.
deviantID
No deviantID yet.
Devious Info
- Current Residence: Vancouver, BC
- Interests: So much! So many things.
- Favourite movie: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
- Favourite band or musician: Right now: Jenny Lewis or Explosions in the Sky
- Favourite genre of music: All the beautiful sounds.
- Favourite artist: Gustav Klimt
- Favourite poet or writer: Pablo Neruda
- Favourite photographer: Francesca Woodman
- Favourite style of art: Multimedia Graphic Design
- Operating System: OS X
- Favourite game: Sudoku
- Personal Quote: "Life is beautiful." -- Roberto Benigni
- Tools of the Trade: Pen, Paper, Photoshop.
- Email: liamjonas2@hotmail.com
deviantART Community Board
Comments
Site Map
©2009 deviantART. All rights reserved
--
[link] "what a boner you've gotten us into"
--
OMJEEZE, it's you...who would've known...
----(I never do these little things, but I guess I should)----
98% of the teenage population does or has tried smoking pot. If you're one of the 2% who hasn't, copy & paste this in your signature.
--
-------------------------------------------------------------
"A true photograph need not be explained, nor can it be contained in words." by Ansel Adams
-------------------------------------------------------------
Gallery: [link]
--
Le Poète est semblable au prince des nuées
Qui hante la tempête et se rit de l'archer ;
Exilé sur le sol au milieu des huées,
Ses ailes de géant l'empêchent de marcher.
Previous PageNext Page