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ParadiseParadiseParadise
Through the scope he gazed back Into his very own eyes Lowering the scope he looked on Into paradise
Imperfect eyes were welcome But through the scope of imperfections He saw but himself
by ~JSIPS
The Mad ScientistThe Mad ScientistThe Mad Scientist
Decipher my mixed signals Analyze my facial contortions And record it in your
Leather bound journal. Notes on my bone structure And its collaboration with my
Intervenes temperature
But you ignore my simple words My straightforward words. Swept under the bridge Of hyper analyses.
Where my eye angle and Finger motions are becoming Emotional distress signals
Your white lab coat indicates your Addiction to proving theses And juggling expensive words Into intricate equations which always
by ~JSIPS
Chapter 154Chapter 154Chapter 154
Parched mouth Coughing for saliva His eyes are crusted With failed investments He’s shivering, Not from cold but from Disappointment
His shoes are his feet His clothes are his skin With one hand he holds
The other hand They shake, intertwined with Each other, a separate entity from their Master, joined in their plight This man is a pawn in a greater Scheme, a necessity in the world He’s one of the tragic chapters In God’s master novel
by ~JSIPS
Captain Egotistically SublimeCaptain Egotistically Sublime By: Josh Sippie 10/6/09Captain Egotistically Sublime
Holes in the sails From moths Termites ate the bow The wheel is rolling down A hill in Amsterdam The waves have
Worn down the sidings
And there he stands Spinning the would-be-wheel Barking orders to the would-be crew Wearing a would-be wooden leg and smiling
He dreams of the Golden Ages Of the day when booty meant treasure He is lost in the waves of time But he doesn't know it Because he doesn't see what we see He sees what he wants to see And there
by ~JSIPS
Favourites
Death of a PoetDeath of a Poet KeybladeAdept5Death of a Poet
A blank piece of paper A soul untouched I venture out from
My inner sanctum, My introvertive sanctuary A tempest of feelings Assault me Angry people, weeping people, Happy people, tears of joy, Fury, kindness, Hate, Love,
from Others, of Others, to Others, it cuts my soul like scissors on paper and it bleeds, it bleeds words on a blank sheet of notebook paper I hurt, and yet, I'm happy, too I'm filled with joy I'm staggering now, I'm in agony From th
by ~KeybladeAdept5
Good EnoughIt was a Wednesday In the fourth grade And a girl had lost her crayons. A boy had stolen them And broken them in two, And scattered them all on the ground. So the girl told the teacher, And the teacher told the boy, “Don’t do that,” and scornfully frowned.Good Enough
It was a Thursday In the fourth grade And a girl had lost her pen. A boy had taken it And used all its ink, And was holding it in his hand. The girl scowled and asked, “Why’d you take my stuff?” And the boy answered her shrill demand.
by ~xXLoveLifeLostXx
This PoemThis poem will be found where you live,This Poem
somewhat short of breath, missing an arm, and looking
for the way things used to be. It will tell
the story of a dream watching a dream. Behind small jars
of cardamom and bay leaf you will catch
its scent, and, as you move aside a thing or two,
it will look up with lips that move like an eye
to recite all the words for blue (which might also
be all the names for wind, weariness, and God).
by *b1gfan
A Lovely Day at the MorgueNonchalantly,A Lovely Day at the Morgue
she was shot in the head, he crashed his plane, he was burned to death. Without hesitation,
they cut her open, they reviewed his X-rays, they cleaned him with a sponge. With thoughful insight,
they examined the hole in her head, they examined his disfigured face, they cut his well-done body, too.
by ~Blue-Galben-Rouge
Hee HEE
StupefieddeviantID
| That picture isn't me by the way. It's awesome. "A man once said, to write is to live forever. The man who said that is dead." - Steve Martin at the Oscars |
Devious Info
- Current Residence: Yes
- Print preference: Arial?
- Interests: Movies
- Favourite movie: In Bruges
- Favourite band or musician: Aerosmith, Gerard Van Masakker, Guns N' Roses
- Favourite genre of music: Foreign, Classic Rock
- Favourite poet or writer: Poe, Frost
- Wallpaper of choice: Blue?
- Favourite game: Zero Wing!!!!
- Favourite gaming platform: Super Nintendo!!!!
- Email: JTS39660@UCMO.EDU
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Love, to those who have it, is a gift beyond compare; love, to those who have lost it, is an unbearable curse.
Is there an expression for this kind of gratitude?
--
No need for clothes for warmth, No need of make up just to look pretty
No need of anything but each other just to feel complete happiness
--
...That sounded a lot funnier in my head.
Every time you watch CN Real, God kills a bunny-cat-racoon thing. Please, THINK OF THE BUNNY-CAT-RACOON THINGS!!!
--
***
THINK HAPPY THOUGHTS
***
I believe in you...
do you believe in me?
***
THE END
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