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2No gamble is worth anything.
That is what i was told.
To corpse that lay in fields now grey.
The mausoleums empty norms.
Whispers fate with airs on graves.
The sound of man its end.
The little boys and little girls that come together to sing.
Will do there harm and harp there hearts and die doing this thing.
To you; i write not of pain but of rue.
You i have followed every where.
To you i have sang and dreamed and cried.
You i have found so near.
Mortality is jealousy.
Death be to the jealous few.
For there hearts are warm and nothing will ease there storm.
Till dead; to them apply.
You i seek in emptiness.
The immortal you.
The you that completes i.
Nothing am i.
My words or deeds.
Emptiness is without you there.
You are my secret and still seen by all.
You are the shinning glory.
To you; i write of love and love is incomplete without our story.
1Shall i now write the emptiness.
Or fallacy of all.
Shall i write the posing props.
The pen awaits command.
In self i have seen everything.
The world to which eyes; began.
The fallen in a glance.
Lay waste outside the world of dreams.
Few that have seen it all.
Within me i see destiny.
Envy; Pain; Love, Legacy the sword cuts and weeps.
To life the abusing friend in need.
Shall i write some more memory.
To you; behind the clouds.
To you; i call.
With you; i fall.
The tangled vines and mango trees.
With fruit the hanging heavens stay.
The sinking ships and blurred moons.
The skies they lay awake.
To you; they all belong my dear.
At ease; the storm shall come one day.
With love the red will bleed yellow.
On my soul played her tune.
So shall i write the saddest of the things.
The saddest of what i have know.
To be alone.
To drift apart.
On Journeys long and far away.
To the abyss of sky.
Write i for you my sins.
No gamble is worth anything.
That is what i was told.
To be aware, awake and sharp.
See all happen, before the spark.
To care, for all that’s pure.
Begin with passion; with passion die.
To jump into the abyss of miseries.
A simple plea this life could be.
In all its endless revery.
To feel time.
And find it hard to breath.
Hope without helplessness.
To see within her eyes,the world.
To carry all her dreams.
To blind yourself of thought.
And say not of pain or loss.
Decent love were we.
To say; we were all i had.
To do; we must not lie.
For love; your love my ego ends.
Yet with each other,we cannot stay.
Departed in a wretched way.
And to your love i cast away; myself.
My pride; my glory; my deeds.
All them combined in beads.
A necklace for you i have made.
With love till time will end it stays.
The tough gets growingI'm knee-deep in mud,
grumbling and mumbling
about what I did
to deserve this mess
And my mother glares,
"When I planted you,
I put you deep in the dirt,
not to bury you alive,
but to teach you that
when the growing gets tough,
the tough gets growing."
pick up the slack and
pick up that slack-jawed shadow of yours
dragging on wet pavement under your soles
and hurry it along, we ain't got all day here
flex your white-boned fingers and
taut knuckles and pluck the soul from
its coffin in your slick throat
the sun has better places to be than in your sky.
Falling Back into Placei wait for wisdom
the sludge tells me
to come in
awaits, just beneath the tack
of its sticky skin
and i know
that what waits there
is more patient
eternal and hungry
but the peace
is only a skin
grow upyou say
i am weak
i have never
worked for anything
i am not sorry
i should take
the pills the doctor
i will never
know what it is to
hurt the way that you hurt,
plant me in the ground
listen to the way my nature sounds
when i turn from something black
to something luminous, proud
you turned me into a shadow, you prick
remember that? remember this?
yeah, the condom broke, you
piece of shit, at least i tried
to be careful, at least when
you cried, i kissed your
say what you want
about my judgment.
my immaturity, my general
lack of readiness for
anything. but i was good
to you, and i tried,
and i am sorry that
you hurt so much
that you can't
do it as elegantly
as i can.
you have never
learned to love
the grit: the place
where my spirit sags,
where my love
as if biology could have been any clearer,
cleaning your spit from my bedroom mirror-
i can smell your genes and
they smell fucking good to me,
but i keep telling myself,
Our destiny is determined
Reliving the past
Enduring the suffering
Visions of the future
Endeavours to come
Representing life as a whole
9 Countenances for the Curious1.
My limbs have become instruments,
but, unlike the piano of your memories,
I am still not anyone's to play.
I think I am finite,
that the limits of me are dictated
by flesh and numbers
on an inverted scale
but the dog on my lap
doesn't care what I weigh;
she wants only
to love me and be loved.
the pain that anchors you
strains your back,
the ship of your life
is hamstrung upon a reef
and you think you are watching
a dolphin at play
but siren songs deceive you.
my ship sank beneath the waters
years ago, this bubble of life
sustains me even as i drown:
there are storms in the depths
of me, and you see only
the ocean's calm.
At 7, I swallowed stories
like candy; didn't understand
that too much leaves you bloated.
At 17, I breakfasted on books
like pancakes; too caught up
to tell (some things should be special).
At 27, I feasted on fiction
like home-cooked meals; didn't know
some of it could poison you.
At 37, I hope I will be picking
at poetry; letting the flavours
of the words
the gardenersMy father is a good man.
His hands, dry and
callused, carry a case
of Corona Lite
to the gardeners in
Big-brimmed hats cast
shadows down their faces,
and a pile of thick,
gray gloves lies
on the glass table.
The beer looks like liquid
gold in those clear bottles,
and condensation clings
to the glass like the sweat
beading at their brows.
My father and the gardeners
drink, laughing like they’ve
known one another for years.
There is nothing
that brings men together
better than beer
on a hot day.
The Washed MindI have let the difficulties flood my body
From head, the worries slip to my heart
like children falling through the cracks
of some broken floor
under which is nothing besides me
My mind is melting from the inside
Swarmed by maggots and the meaningless questions:
Would my mind work better
without all these walls
stopping it from evolving?
Where did these obscene problems come from?
Surely my mind was born free
Surely my opinions exist somewhere...
Or is freedom nothing but a joke
to the true me?
So, I ate nails and needles to clear my mind
The bleeding and the pain
were both evil and refreshing
I have learned the lesson
fairy tales are the shadows on my eyes
Now my mind is clear as melting glass
running down my cold spine
washing away the sins,
violent thoughts and sorrowful memories
from the edge of my past
AddictsTo memories that were swept away.
The gardens burnt to ashes way.
We in the realm of habits sway.
To time that makes no sense of things.
To life which seems meaningless.
To actions so often we note.
We are but addicts in this world.
The white, black, and brown we hosts.
Old, mature and younger fools.
We hate, debate and calculate.
Draw out our swords and hug and kiss.
In love, in anger burn our days.
Some, light a cigarette and others in there caves; they go.
Gapes in our minds, we feel the moment is not something new.
Run and hide and dig; in earth we go.
Look there, the corners are not vacant anymore.
A cruel and evil world, we think is all there is to see; to know.
Shun the hope we have and light the fires; let them grow.
Forgetfulness is just a bliss in which we live on and continue.
Devoted to the hearts we fools.
Demented in the thoughts of past.
Pass on the words which did not last.
Faro our emotions until its grey and time to say 'goodbye'.
Fallacy we are but in.
Yet who has ti
You Were Not An Aquarium BoySea-glass became your bones,
brine your blood, and seashells
melded into your skin.
You were not quite an ocean
when you said "This is your sign to love me."
My body was like a building;
tall, cold, almost unbreakable.
I was metallic and sharp,
towering over your waters.
I remember taking your hand in mine,
conch and coral shells scrubbing
my skyscraper wrists, and laughing
about how one day you would
submerge every last bit of me.
Your lips, riddled with argonauts,
found my cheek and I cringed
at the coarseness.
You asked if they bothered me
and I finally told you "I
think I love you."
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More