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~Lis4theway
S. Z. - Status: Member
- Deviously Deviant
- Female/United States
- Offline for 1d 11h 29m 14s
- Deviant since Aug 9, 2007, 4:45 PM
Recent Deviations
A Poet on PoetsA poet on poets How cliché, I suppose Yet what else to write about When the bane of all Who hold a penA Poet on Poets
Or type the written page -To be plain (And non-poetical) Writer’s Block- Rears its ugly head And asks when dinner is As it’s going to be staying At least till tonight Probably longer. What else for the poet But to write of poets Or perhaps poetry Usually the poetry of other poets. Where are the rhymes That make the works of Poe Read so well? Moans the
Writer’s Block Afflicted po
in Open on 6/3/08
The feeling of your belovedJust think about it: the sweet smell of your beloved, the warmth from where they touch you radiating through your skin, the sound only of their breath over yours. The moment of anticipation, of knowing what will come but has not yet arrived. The weight of their body against yours. The hidden moment, of hands touching between bodies, out of sight of the rest. All else becomes unreal. Unimportant. All else ceases to exist, it never existed. There is only the moment of the now, you and your lover and nothing else anywhere.The feeling of your beloved
There is perfection in that moment, is there not? A sense of flawlessness inherent in the feeling of your deare
in General Non-Fiction on 5/16/08
Insanity Runs RampantInsanity runs rampant through the back alleys of youth, Out of sight but never out of mind, Spreading like a plague, Corrupting the stability of the generation That is soon to take control. Order cannot be restored, Chaos’ foothold is far too well established, Rooted in the psyches of the innocent. Entropy is waiting in the wings. The change of scene will be quick, The coup complete, The shift irreversible,Insanity Runs Rampant
From the light and the gaiety of the boulevard To the madness hidden in the shadows Of the back alleys of youth.
in Open on 4/9/08
SonnetI walk in worlds that no one else can see And breathe the music carried by the breeze That blows from places far away and free The places far beyond the unseen seas This music lights a fire in my mind That burns insistently and will not cease If I could search and the musicians find Who make this music I could be at peace Or if by walking in these worlds of mine I could fade here and live there all my days Then I could be content. But there’s a line That separates me from my trackless ways These phantom worlds and breeze of phantom air Tell me of where they areSonnet
in Sonnet on 3/13/08
Recent Watchers
OptimismDevious Information
- Current Age: old as the hills
- Current Residence: where I hang my hat
- Interests: life, having way too much fun, being easily amused, etc.
- Favourite movie: Um...The Princess Bride, perhaps.
- Favourite band or musician: not sure
- Favourite genre of music: MUSICAL THEATRE
- Favourite artist: too many to pick just one...
- Favourite poet or writer: at the moment, James Thurber
- MP3 player of choice: iPod mini!
- Favourite game: You Bet Your Duck! (If anyone gets this reference, kudos and I want to be your friend)
- Personal Quote: Except in directions in which one can go too far there is no interest in going at all.- T S Elliot
- Tools of the Trade: anything handy
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Devious Comments
And yes, you know who this is, in case you don't recognize the name.
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I'm going to go sit over here and be jealous now.
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Why don't you join the poetry contest from [link] ?
It's free and every nitwit such as myself who enters gets a small gift
but someone like you might win one of their $10 000 or $100 000 prizes.
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If you watch me, I'll watch you
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I'm having fun with photoshop, though, now that I'm learning how to use it. I may do a manipulation of you cutting my throat, and will post it if it's okay with my Lemon.
You've been tagged!
Check out this journal [link] for details.
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*ahem*
Welcome aboard.
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