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NotebookWrinkled cover, scratchy fringes
Worn out backing, crumpled pages
Loosened notes and ripped up drawings
Faded color, senseless scrawling.
Lovely songs with twisted meaning
Abandon notes for luck of cheating
Perfect lines like cold cell bars
Keep the words held where they are.
Paper thin and razor edged
Perfect weapon, word "alleged"
Evading pain, weave a lie
Words a tool for those most sly.
Blunt-force trauma, choose a secret
Like a brick to those who keep it
Or slit throats, slow and easy
Words of romance, flawless victory.
InstitutionalizedShe stands before the glass
waiting for the lies.
But they never come.
Because the darkened walls
have soaked them up
on a Sunday afternoon,
and he'll never understand
that this was all a test
The parallel parking section
that no one truly passes,
simply sliding by with a D+
But sobriety will be the culprit
for being too damn hard
for some to take with a grain of salt
As she likes to live.
A warm, charming smile
settles in the curves of her skin
waiting for the lies.
Bad Habits Die HardI wake up on the floor, broken. I didn't even open my eyes. I know what I've done. Me arm is so sore... I had done it again. Without even thinking. Without regrets.
I should tidy up before mother gets home. She works so hard, I would hate to make her clean. Caked blood comes off tile easily with a warm washcloth. My shirt, though, will need to be destroyed. Evidence.
RelapseShe spilled her soul down the bathtub drain
Hoping it would let her rest at ease a while,
But what she didn't know was that each time
It left closer to the darkness she feared.
This subtle message was a cry for help,
Not knowing she screamed in a foreign language.
The only one with the means to rescue her gave up
On trying for the girl who never stopped drowning.
Acceptance was the sword that pierced her heart
Worse than any chastisement could have scratched.
For the only words that could have saved her were
Lies like "I love you" and "Please don't, for me."
Beyond Repair Drip, drip, drip. What a pretty sound the rain made on the bay window. I love the rain in Olympia. It was like an entire orchestra was performing just for me. Nobody else understood my way of thinking. I enjoy the little things in life, like the rain and my cute beagle puppy Maggie. She's the only family I have aside from Mom and Dad. My parents were probably sitting in the living room watching the plasma T.V. bickering back and forth for the remote.
That remote. I can't say how many times that little square of plastic with all it's dazzling little rubber buttons has cost me precious memories with Daddy. Ever since Mom left us here in Utah for her Hollywood boyfriend, the poor man has been glued to the couch, leaving me to take care of my little brothers. They've been all kinds of upset ever since our pet cat Checkers was put down. None of us wanted him to go, but it was for the best. One helluva Christmas present
Slivers of light(French version below)
The most dreadful winter of my life came.
I abandoned the idea of a blossoming future,
Fled the misery of my own motherland,
For a woman I have far too often dreamt of.
Among the singing buds of the Shinto shrine
A white plum caresses my back,
Its petals lull me, my eyes are sealed, sweet reverie,
A convent of grass
The junk of my thoughts
Send me to Amaterasu.
Blushing Lotus, enticing Lilacs, panting Azaleas,
So many mistresses!
Enough perfumes to be drunk from them.
Why, my promise, have I been waiting so long to join you?
Your hair like Sakura flowers
Your laughters sound like Shamisen.
Over the pond, a dragonfly sits down and begins to dream
Masquerading FlowersPink and white ruffles
bend and sway as
green leaves and thick stalks
waltz their blooms
through a balmy breeze.
taste-test the air,
sweeping for danger;
faux petals move
an inch at a time
high above the forest floor.
A vibrant orchid mantis
plays it cool
and takes it slow,
masquerading as a still-life
in a mobile world.
FireThe fiery warmth.
The sparks of red and orange.
Destructive, passionate, yet mesmerizing.
In an instant, it can take away a life through its destructive ways.
But yet, it can save a life with its warm embrace.
The fire spreads.
The tongues of flame licking at the fuel,
Its light throwing shadows dancing across your face.
Dangerous, yet safe.
Angry, but calm.
Harmless, until one spark lets loose.
Then the fire is free.
The master of chaos,
Hidden beneath a façade.
Wait until the veil crumbles,
To reveal its true power
Monarch MorningsMistress Monarch spreads
over white-capped mountains,
a new dawn seen through
thin antennae masks
and yellow-trimmed lace.
I have a bouquet of light
of shattered sunrays
that shun those
whose rose is not as rubicund
or whose cerulean is only slightly sea-green-stained.
Slice up the white
and imprison it in sardine cans
and push the plungers home.
But no matter how much you may try
the result is death;
for you've frayed the perfect threads
And only dried minerals and plasma
some darker version of the cosmic latte concentrated.
My heart is a prism.
All that's around me
some hibernating humming
frozen beneath the winter's coat.
I must be a time machine,
because I cannot abide this monochrome much longer.
And I've sprung forward to spring.
I'm seizing the icicles
that drip from the pallid clouds
and stripping them
and cutting them
and setting them
and in my heart they are transcribed
and flowers bloom
in the rumination of the sunlight.
a host to the aquatic fermentation
and I sip this bouquet
an imitation of the future,
In a momentary fall
Prodding the air
Crushed with the rest
Melt like your brethren
I never liked you anyway
The Blue CurseIn the fit of rage,
At the stupidity of mankind,
The rain was fiercely angry,
And in her anger,
Long ago, in the storm,
The rain cursed mankind.
The curse burned deeper
Than the brightest red,
Not bringing about senseless anger,
But instead a heartbreaking sadness
That broke them,
But left them alive.
It was blue tears,
And those blue feelings,
That ruined them.
From blue gave birth to the other colors.
For what comes from sadness but change?
So blue became sadness.
Each generation of mankind,
Turned bluer, and with each lifetime
The sky turned grayer.
Until it was but a pitch black.
And the rain was satisfied
With her work.
And the Blue Curse
Two Second ShutterSun-rimmed glasses magnified hidden eyes,
the leopard's sleek fur a mosaic of leaves.
Tempting irises with an earthly fury
shift as forest shadows dance and writhe,
breathing so close, you can't believe
the trees haven't fallen silent yet.
Sunlight spirals twinkle down to fireflies,
tiny flares lighting on quivering whiskers.
The stage is set for unrequited desire;
you pack up your camera as she stirs, languid.
Some things aren't meant to be captured
and out here, your camera is a cage.
Lovely WeatherWalking home is ecstasy when clouds decide to cry
To pout with their big puffy lips and spin the wind around
Creating a ballet too elegant to be seen by the eyes of man
It's simply too bad that more people aren't crazy enough
To reach up and ask the lonely clouds to dance.
The puddles create little portals, through which
The world is reflected back against itself more clearly
And on a rainy day the droplets hit these mirrors hard
Shattering the peace to reach back toward the sky
If only they could bounce high enough to return home.
Leaves cling to each other in the gutters or in yards
Hoping for a ray of sun to pierce the biting cold
Or a wandering child to kick up their close packed piles
And free them from their lovely clumps of color
So that they could once again freely fly.
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