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FoolishExploding over the walls,
your personal Jesus can't save you.
Why, why, why
her demons scream in her face.
Blinding and illusionary in the dark,
but you and she can't see,
all pent up and foolish actions.
Does it loose meaning?If I say I'm sorry
does it change a thing?
Would to keep saying
that one word be demeaning?
To say it today
and then say it the next
to say it again and again
does it not loose meaning?
Should I say that one-
for just a small taste of:
anger, annoyance, bitterness,
a raised voice in a sentence?
Should I say I'm sorry?
But, still this image...I remember the days
of sunflowers and daises;
of passion flowers blooming
and the consciousness of a lotus.
Memories of wind and sun,
water lapping upon coasts
and tidal waves of revolution -
the true beginnings of a peculiar bloom.
Washing up on stranger shores,
staring at a new symmetry,
the forming of a unknown world -
the starting of quiet discontent.
An invention, a discovery, outlandish!
Growing faster, faster, fast -, fa -
to a grotesque transformation
into an astonishing reflection.
Expanding and contorting,
flowers bursting in fire and rebirth;
from marvelous and into extraordinary
but still, this image...
A Glass JarI fought with a pen instead
never thinking to use a sword.
Words flowed unbidden, non-rhyming,
the beginnings of a strange symmetry;
These words whispered across the pages,
ink constantly flowing, flowing -
rivers of words pouring out of pen
into a glass jar full of dreams.
Alas, these images of past, present
and the future of my yesterdays,
are only just a glass jar full of dreams.
Glimpse, A Glint, of possibilitiesA flash, one moment,
just a simple glimpse
one whisper full of meaning
and eyes shining out bright.
The sun catches upon a shine,
a glint, an echo, a brush,
a field of a soft golden glow
and trees of deep, deep roots.
Promise, promise, promise,
a promise of something more -
left or right, or walk off;
Make it quick! Make it quick!
Brimming full of the more,
bubbling over, flowing out
quickly take a sip from it
or the moment is gone to soon!
A moment, a glint, an echo,
one glimpse of what could be;
if only, if only but for one
moment to make a choice.
Suddenly, but oh so suddenly
It is gone.
The Wind RagedRage, rage, the wind went
it whirled about in discontent.
It never seemed to stop it's lament
and neither would it relent.
It cried and cried and cried,
having no where to hide.
It just could not seem to abide
being so very cold outside.
All the wind wanted was to find peace
and yet already had it's release;
The wind just did not know how to cease
or even remember how to be nice.
Jar of DreamsShe collected her dreams,
one by one in these glass jars.
She had a giant collection sitting,
always sitting on a bunch of shelves-
they were tucked away between books
and lost underneath papers, hidden away.
Sometimes she would take them out to see,
wanting a view of what she had once dreamed.
Never ever did she think or wanted to release them
for doing so would meant to shatter her precious jars
and she was ever so afraid that those shards would cut,
cut and cut and cut her, leaving her shredded into pieces.
So on rainy days, she would find them, take them to the window
and put them on display as she counted them all, one, two, three...
she would cry and cry with the rain always wishing, always dreaming
of the day that maybe she would be unafraid to release the precious jars
Flower's InstructionsWith tender care a seed
was planted into the garden.
It's life grew fast as children do,
from seed to bud to bloom.
Flower greeted the world with
its beauty and petals almost overnight.
The flower told the gardener,
as it bloomed it's colors:
Treat me well fair world
for I am small and delicate
Give me gentle winds of words
for hurricanes will blow me away.
Give me tender kisses of light
so that I may not wilt from harsh love.
Give me soft rains of kindness
so I may be kind and strong.
If you do these things
I'll be beautiful for life.
Desire Has WroughtDesire found itself upon lonely shores,
washed up on an a tiny island
no where to go except
in a circle around an island.
There is nothing to do but think before ,
stretch out upon sands;
come to terms, accept
what Desire had done.
Desire, Desire, the waves whispered,
expressing the loneliness of Desire
of knowing what once had been grasped
and what has been lost.
Nothing Desire thought of could deter
the thoughts of what had transpired
what desire had almost clasped
but now knows the cost.
What if GodWhat if God…
…cares about what you care about?
…was proud of your every achievement?
…actually wanted to thank you?
…is excited for you?
…believes in you?
...keeps His end of the deal even when you don’t?
…sympathizes with you?
…is on your side every time, whether you’re right or wrong?
…encourages your crazy goals that others say are stupid?
…is your biggest fan?
…is still rooting for you?
…won’t forget you, even long after you die?
…understands you better than your own parents?
…loves you more than your own partner does?
…loves you more than you love yourself?
What if God was everything we are looking for in other people, and ten times that?
Would we approach Him then?
Prayer to Wodenwisdom, guile and ecstasy
these things I pray You give to me
poet’s share – sweet Mead from Heaven
another drink of inspiration
Runes are cut from ancient trees
sigils, signs now come with ease
flowing blood and gushing soul
we move along in Frija’s web
the God will teach
as the Goddess shapes us
a union born of polarity
blessed hearthfire’s duality
Wōden, Wotan; Father God
I seek craft and witching words
teach me gifts of sweet seduction
and so catharsis of noble Will
Lord of Gallows, wandering bard
countless dead and so reborn
bring me now to wit’s sweet end
and teach me how to walk again
ending, ending, never-ending
it has no start to take away
born in Aegis, shaped by Aeons
given wit by Odin’s brethren
oh my soul, my life, my mind
I pledge them all to wisdom’s God
to seek and eke, to strive and conquer
and so to rise above the mindful now
I will seek the Overman
the promise of sweet Wisdom throned
a life beyond the bold horizon
Connecting StarsThere are arbitrary lines between the stars
In triangles and rectangles
But everything’s circular
Cyclical, rotating, transforming into
and out of shape.
I am connected to the cycles
I am circular in my essence
Transforming in cycles
The stars cannot be observed without me,
I am stars and the lines in between.
Holy TrinityThe solidness of beginning
An eternity of summers
A sweet delicious immortality
A sparkling rivulet entering a meadow brook
Life giving rushing river to oceans of jumping fish and cresting giants
Flashing wet in the sun
Sunlight warm on us all
The molecules of time drifting apart
Gently seeing through those things that were solid
Spaces big enough to walk through
Ending in mist, asking: Why?
An Embrace in the DarkAn Embrace in the Dark
Your reasoning is true, you logic right
My flaw is forgiven by ethereal light
Make our scarlet sins bleed anew
Make them crystal as morning dew
And though I sin, I still understand
That all I want is to be part of your plan
Blood so crimson, akin to twilit sky
At last I am free, on angel’s wings I fly
EnlightenmentWaking from your dreams
You see life as a gleam of light
Not knowing which way it will reflect
from the mirrors of reality
You struggle with your faith
Your soul has been torn
As you get up, disbelieving in fate and trudging on
You feel a guiding force that mends your soul
and takes you to a world of bliss
Where dreams are anything but dreams
here one minute...this seems now
to be what's true:
do not dread death
toward end of life
because there is
no There anywhere
you'll not Be dead
you'll just be gone
an absent one
no longer here
the mortal throng
to Be no more
where you've not bought
nor caught the fear
from those who claim
to know one thing...
or too much other
you surely see
you cannot mourn
your selfish self
nor must you run
behind your loved one
to your lord
just let them go
and whisper "Yes"
prepare to miss
as you should
the one whom has now
come up missing
there'll be a day
when you'll be gone
though you won't know
so - mute the souls
who go before
[more truly need]
but likely sense
there's no beyond...
beyond death's door
one shall not see
one shall not hear
nor feel the calm
nor wonder "Why?"
at all... anymore
llp - dA - aug2014
ReconstructionRibcage turns to lead and thick and iron,
a bastardised alloy
that grips your lungs like a vice
and patterns welts on to your heart
if it starts to flutter.
Skull turns to flint and gasoline and matchstick,
a raging fire against your brain,
that makes you sweat electricity
and blow smoke from between your teeth,
and your eyes roll back to watch the light show.
Stomach turns to cement and grit and earth,
churning and setting,
half-formed rock scraping your insides
and carrying you with the slow
rise and fall and rise and fall and rise and fall.
Body tightens and shudders and curls in on itself,
literally breaking your heart,
setting fire to your insides,
churning your stomach just for the rush.
Crescendo blazes in tumultuous turmoil,
rhythm crawling inside of you,
volume increasing, increasing, increasing,
you drop with a scream
and all is quiet and nothing hurts.
Walking along a dirt path with a bag on my back
Everything I need is on my back
Days and days of preparing; just a simple hike
All of a sudden, a mountain blocking my path
The road goes up; all the way up
The only way to make it over is to climb
Shouldn't be too hard but it won't be easy
The road gets more narrow, the climb gets dangerous
Easy steps to make the climb are now impossible
The rocks are getting slippery, and the rocks are falling apart
Higher and higher I go, the danger increases
One wrong step, I tumble off the side of the mountain
Rolling down the side of the mountain
Hitting my heads on the rocks and breaking my bones
I don't know if I can climb this, I don't know if I ever will
It feels endless and having to climb from the bottom again; I will never reach the top
O Lord, please give me the strength to overcome this mountain
Give me the strength to even see the horizon
O Lord, You reign in the highest and did the impossible for me
There is nothing You can't do
O Lord, h
StrangerKill me now lest I dream to deep
or to fast that I am swallowed
by all that is and was.
While chasing the white stag,
the trees melt and seas boil
the world seems repugnant.
From the land of frozen
lips become black and blue
with stiff movements of uncertainty.
From the land of the scorching,
the heart melts and explodes
while the minds discovers phantasmagoria.
And within the realm of copse,
the mind discovers the unearthing,
and there is silence on the lips.
Oh where oh where have I gone,
where is this stag and feast
taken me that I am a stranger?
Within this flow of possibilities,
a sea full of obscurity and absurdity,
there is a stranger staring back at me.
five hour energyi suppose
last week was only an aftershock
of the earthquake you were before.
this place used to vibrate
with metal strings and melodic,
testimonies to life,
emitting coffee-scented moods
and the burn of it too.
i had memorized the
sounds of silence,
i couldn't help but relish it.
no longer had i known
the sounds of folk
and scent of mocha-
you became nothing more
than an echo of the laughter
i so desperately needed to hear again.
then the echoes got louder,
bouncing ferociously off the walls
to be made manifest
i walked into your room
expecting exactly what i found-
an unmade bed,
and an empty beer
(the one that you insisted you needed
just days ago).
i pressed my nose
into the pillow
for incense and cologne and starbucks
to penetrate my mind
and thinking fervently
i already know
what a clean sheet smells like."
how strong an aftershock can be,
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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