The old woman next door played her depressing version of Happy Birthday to You on her piano again, and Lisa couldn’t study.
The music wasn’t loud, but it seeped through into her apartment with its slow pace and low notes and bothered her, even though it was ignorable and she was comfortable in good company.
“There she goes again with the sleepy music.” Mark placed his Calculus book on the coffee table, leant back into the couch, and yawned. “What’s this, the eighth time this year?”
“The first time,” Lisa said. “And how’s it sleepy music?”
“It’s making me d
When Larceny Runs in Blood by Swiss-Dilettante, literature
Literature
When Larceny Runs in Blood
"Damned thief." Oscar sighed and turned the television off. There'd been another accident, and more deaths. He didn't know why he still watched the news, because more often than not it was depressive. It reminded him that the lives of he and his family were just objects to be stolen, some day.
"Darned thief, dear." His wife Lily arched a brow at him, and darted her eyes across their children, her way of saying: You will not screw these kids up, you will not give them excuse to swear and do wrong.
"Hmm." Oscar nodded, not wanting to point out their offspring would pick up "unacceptable" language from other sources. They both knew. Perhaps th
Ring, ding, ring-ding.
The wedding bells
that love to sing can
cry for death, doom.
Boom Boooom
Roses, radiant and red,
brighten eyes of the living,
and rest with the dead.
Their beauty, color, fades to grey
but you cannot see it in blackness.
Lave in love's lava, and
let it caress your blood,
brush against your skin.
Enjoy, but know warmth
ends in ice, and your last feeling
is an everlasting shiver.
Eat the scent of morning.
Crisp, with a faint sweetness,
as if the dew were honey.
Come the angry gaze of night,
your breath rots in your lungs.
Suck water from nature's bosom,
and marvel at the taste of
Trees are crying leaves of brown,
and the winds caress them,
hum to them.
Its touch is warming, like a breath of sun,
and it's voice is soft, tender as a
strum of the harp.
But the wailing continues,
and the sky responds by
adding its own voice, own tears.
And the rain is cold, cold.
Numbers dwindling,
trees gather to mourn.
Oak, Willow, Elm,
it all matters not.
For when volcanoes erupt,
their pride is forgot.
Their children play at war,
tell them they are "sorry,"
beg for their forgiveness,
and go back for more
But trees are strong,
and the world is huge,
and the world is huge,
while the babes are seedlings,
j
A scintillating sunrise
and a soft song, or
ebon clouds above and
damp, buzzing streets below.
Stars that wink and gleam;
water falling from a rainbow,
or a hateful needle and
a razorblade of firelight.
The sun won't rise with
the whispers of night.
Tears shall not cascade
up, up into the sky.
Paradise may not be
the same for you and I,
but we all have an
idea of what it is.
I will not
abandon
my fears,
though torturous
they may be.
I will not
abandon
my desires,
for they belong
only to me.
My weaknesses
are my own.
Even butterflies
can cry black tears.
My strengths
are mine to boast.
My head won't
burst upon my peers.
For no one
shall I abandon
the freedom to be
myself.
So I won't listen.
And nor should
you.
Varos sat on his chair and enjoyed the warmth of the fire. It had been a cold, hard day out in his field. But his first harvest would come soon, and then gold close after! For now, however, he deserved a break.
Knock, knock, knock.
He lifted his head, and looked at the wooden door. No one was outside, surly. Not often did he have companyand much less so in the night. He allowed his head to slump back.
Knock, knock, knock!
"Damn it." With a grunt, he hopped to his feet and strode to the door. "Is someone out there?"
"Yes."
Varos shook his head, black hair cascading down his shoulders. He reached for an old kitchen knife that lay
I am still water,
Blessed by tranquility,
And harmonious depths
Of unknown humility.
When emotion stirs, however,
And I begin to ripple,
Be wary, friends,
For my waves can cripple.
But most of all,
I am a honey river--
An endless flow of love;
An imprisoned giver.
So drink me,
And feel the heat
Of sweetened waters
That shan't ever deplete.
Difference.
They come, flapping their furry wings.
Such difference.
They come, thinking they are kings.
Stark difference.
We watch them sing, laugh, and smile.
Difference.
We watch them growl, fight, and reconcile.
Difference?
Skin is black, red, yellow, and white.
Difference?
All souls are granted beautiful and bright.
Unity.
Eat me, ants, try to eat me.
But attempt as you may,
Know it is all for naught
I am too large to hear what you say .
Defeat, ants, defeat me.
Worry is a torturous doom.
Your nibbling leaves one distraught.
But I am too large for you to consume!
Bite, bite, bite.
Render me fleshless.
Fight, fight, fight.
Leave me breathless.
Failure, ants, relish failure.
Do you like the taste?
Meaningless, for all we've fought.
My soul you shan't longer lambaste.
The old woman next door played her depressing version of Happy Birthday to You on her piano again, and Lisa couldn’t study.
The music wasn’t loud, but it seeped through into her apartment with its slow pace and low notes and bothered her, even though it was ignorable and she was comfortable in good company.
“There she goes again with the sleepy music.” Mark placed his Calculus book on the coffee table, leant back into the couch, and yawned. “What’s this, the eighth time this year?”
“The first time,” Lisa said. “And how’s it sleepy music?”
“It’s making me d
When Larceny Runs in Blood by Swiss-Dilettante, literature
Literature
When Larceny Runs in Blood
"Damned thief." Oscar sighed and turned the television off. There'd been another accident, and more deaths. He didn't know why he still watched the news, because more often than not it was depressive. It reminded him that the lives of he and his family were just objects to be stolen, some day.
"Darned thief, dear." His wife Lily arched a brow at him, and darted her eyes across their children, her way of saying: You will not screw these kids up, you will not give them excuse to swear and do wrong.
"Hmm." Oscar nodded, not wanting to point out their offspring would pick up "unacceptable" language from other sources. They both knew. Perhaps th
Ring, ding, ring-ding.
The wedding bells
that love to sing can
cry for death, doom.
Boom Boooom
Roses, radiant and red,
brighten eyes of the living,
and rest with the dead.
Their beauty, color, fades to grey
but you cannot see it in blackness.
Lave in love's lava, and
let it caress your blood,
brush against your skin.
Enjoy, but know warmth
ends in ice, and your last feeling
is an everlasting shiver.
Eat the scent of morning.
Crisp, with a faint sweetness,
as if the dew were honey.
Come the angry gaze of night,
your breath rots in your lungs.
Suck water from nature's bosom,
and marvel at the taste of
Trees are crying leaves of brown,
and the winds caress them,
hum to them.
Its touch is warming, like a breath of sun,
and it's voice is soft, tender as a
strum of the harp.
But the wailing continues,
and the sky responds by
adding its own voice, own tears.
And the rain is cold, cold.
Numbers dwindling,
trees gather to mourn.
Oak, Willow, Elm,
it all matters not.
For when volcanoes erupt,
their pride is forgot.
Their children play at war,
tell them they are "sorry,"
beg for their forgiveness,
and go back for more
But trees are strong,
and the world is huge,
and the world is huge,
while the babes are seedlings,
j
A scintillating sunrise
and a soft song, or
ebon clouds above and
damp, buzzing streets below.
Stars that wink and gleam;
water falling from a rainbow,
or a hateful needle and
a razorblade of firelight.
The sun won't rise with
the whispers of night.
Tears shall not cascade
up, up into the sky.
Paradise may not be
the same for you and I,
but we all have an
idea of what it is.
I will not
abandon
my fears,
though torturous
they may be.
I will not
abandon
my desires,
for they belong
only to me.
My weaknesses
are my own.
Even butterflies
can cry black tears.
My strengths
are mine to boast.
My head won't
burst upon my peers.
For no one
shall I abandon
the freedom to be
myself.
So I won't listen.
And nor should
you.
Varos sat on his chair and enjoyed the warmth of the fire. It had been a cold, hard day out in his field. But his first harvest would come soon, and then gold close after! For now, however, he deserved a break.
Knock, knock, knock.
He lifted his head, and looked at the wooden door. No one was outside, surly. Not often did he have companyand much less so in the night. He allowed his head to slump back.
Knock, knock, knock!
"Damn it." With a grunt, he hopped to his feet and strode to the door. "Is someone out there?"
"Yes."
Varos shook his head, black hair cascading down his shoulders. He reached for an old kitchen knife that lay
I am still water,
Blessed by tranquility,
And harmonious depths
Of unknown humility.
When emotion stirs, however,
And I begin to ripple,
Be wary, friends,
For my waves can cripple.
But most of all,
I am a honey river--
An endless flow of love;
An imprisoned giver.
So drink me,
And feel the heat
Of sweetened waters
That shan't ever deplete.
Difference.
They come, flapping their furry wings.
Such difference.
They come, thinking they are kings.
Stark difference.
We watch them sing, laugh, and smile.
Difference.
We watch them growl, fight, and reconcile.
Difference?
Skin is black, red, yellow, and white.
Difference?
All souls are granted beautiful and bright.
Unity.
Eat me, ants, try to eat me.
But attempt as you may,
Know it is all for naught
I am too large to hear what you say .
Defeat, ants, defeat me.
Worry is a torturous doom.
Your nibbling leaves one distraught.
But I am too large for you to consume!
Bite, bite, bite.
Render me fleshless.
Fight, fight, fight.
Leave me breathless.
Failure, ants, relish failure.
Do you like the taste?
Meaningless, for all we've fought.
My soul you shan't longer lambaste.
Welcome!
This is a fully revised edition of Devious Love! These articles will now contain more art and content. Enjoy!
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Q: What do you guys think of my story so far? Should I keep going?
This seems to be a very popular question. I'll argue it's a useless question, and explain why.
This reply is directed at new writers, and despite the tone that may follow, I really do intend to be sincere and helpful. I was once a newbie, too. And although I'm certainly not going to claim to be great, I've fallen flat on my face enough times to learn how to pick myself up and produce something I'm proud of.
Here's why you need to not ask this question. You're either going to succeed, or you're going to fail. But, either way, you'll be better off for hav
Daily Literature Deviations for Nov. 25th, 2012 by DailyLitDeviations, journal
Daily Literature Deviations for Nov. 25th, 2012
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Daily Lit Deviations for November 25th, 2012
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You can show your support by :+favlove:ing this News Article.
Please comment and :+fav: the features and congratulate the artists!
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We will include you and your piece in a special recognition news article. :pointl:
Poetry
Suggested by: Halcyal (https://www.deviantart.com/halcyal)
Featured by: betwixtthepages (https://www.deviantart.com/betwixtthepages)
:thumb2916562
Committed to a more productive 2013 by raspil, journal
Committed to a more productive 2013
Because we all know the world isn't going to end in a month, why not get the jump on being a badder badass next year?
I have seven things written down, seven because there are seven days in a week:
:bulletblack: finish an existing story
:bulletblack: make a new dinner/bake something
:bulletblack: plot arc a new story
:bulletblack: write a new rough draft
:bulletblack: exercise x3 days this week
:bulletblack: do a critique at deviantART
:bulletblack: make a new clay project
every saturday night, i will draw one of these and that will be what i have to do for the week. then i will do it. i don't think these are out of the realm of re
Do you find yourself staring like a zombie at a blank piece of paper on your desk? Do you whip your pencil in a circle to draw a head, erase it, draw it again, and still find yourself dissatisfied and uninspired? Do you long to draw your characters in some crazy or adorable situation but lack the ability to come up with an idea?
Never fear! The Art Block Banisher is here!
This is a list of possible scenarios you can evilly dump your favorite characters into, whether they belong to you or someone else. So think about a few favorite characters, pull out a pencil and paper, and let's go!
***
Cooking Who can cook what, and how well? How many
Daily Literature Deviations for October 21st, 2012 by DailyLitDeviations, journal
Daily Literature Deviations for October 21st, 2012
Guidelines | How to Suggest a DLD | Group Administrators | Affiliation | Chatroom | Current Staff Openings
Daily Lit Deviations for October 21st, 2012
We are proud to feature today's Daily Literature Deviations!
You can show your support by :+favlove:ing this News Article.
Please comment and :+fav: the features and congratulate the artists!
:pointr: For all of the featured artists: If you receive a DD for one
of your pieces featured by DLD please note LiliWrites (https://www.deviantart.com/liliwrites).
We will include you and your piece in a special recognition news article. :pointl:
Poetry
Suggested by Nichrysalis (https://www.deviantart.com/nichrysalis)
Featured by betwixtthepages (https://www.deviantart.com/betwixtthepages)
:thumb32173703
if a lit forum thread brought you here... by raspil, journal
if a lit forum thread brought you here...
sorry.
there's something you must understand about me -- i have an extreme need to understand things and to have answers. when something smells like walking-talking bullshit nonsense to me, i want to learn more about it so i can either learn to let it go or kill it. so when i ask questions, just answer them honestly. don't get butthurt at me because i held up a mirror and you didn't like what you saw. i'm not a troll, i'm not an asshole. i'm just curious and i have a very low tolerance for people who tell lies to protect their ego. i don't do things to deliberately hurt feelings, that is stupid. i don't sugarcoat anything. there's
First journal entry.
I have been tagged by ~ScarletDevil1503 (https://www.deviantart.com/scarletdevil1503)
It is accepted. :iconimdarkplz:
1) You MUST post the rules.
2) Each person MUST post 5 things about themselves in their journal.
3) Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post and create 11 new questions for the people you tag to answer.
4) You have to choose 11 people to tag and post their icons on your journal.
5) Go to their page and tell them you have tagged them.
6) NO TAG BACKS!
7) No stuff in the tagging section about "You're Tagged If You're Reading This" You legitimately have to tag 11 people.
Five things:
1: I usually eat cookie dough instead