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Reality InvertedJump through the mirror...
and from the other side take a look.
What would it be like to see the evil you?
How might opposites change the rulebook?
You might go from pauper to prince,
Or lose everything you have in a day.
When you step into the alternate
History is come-what-may.
Maybe in this universe you made a mistake,
And you're six feet under a flowerbed.
Or perhaps everything went great,
And from a silver spoon you're fed.
Or perhaps you're in a place,
Where your parents never met
How odd to see a world you're not
Cause your parents run a different duet.
There's no limit to the alternates you may see,
As the mirror continues to distort
How many versions of you will you see,
As the universes continues to contort?
Watch me jump, change, and shift
And my reality completely rearrange...
You may think you know all the answers.
Do you know how the questions have changed?
Symmetry is overrated
And I'm just about to crack
I can't handle living in theory
I wanna go back!
Jump back through
ClicheThe patient in the hospital
He got all bent out of shape
And hurt his lower back
Now they're going to operate
The doctor was a new one
Confused on what was the goal
He operated on the spine from his little toe
And tore the guy a new a$$hole
The doctor didn't clean up or disinfect
And left the scalpel inside his chest
They sewed him up like Frankenstein
And so he never woke up from his rest
He now lays in the morgue
A scalpel stuck in some part
The coroner wrote the death certificate
"Died of a bleeding, broken heart"
Nothing is cliche when it happens to you...
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Pilgrimage v8Poet, you must see
A clearing in the deep woods
Far above the Earth
The sun with me for one day
Rises higher into the east
Over the mountains
A terrain of green and white
Leaves ride high up on the wind
Controlled by the rushing breeze
Far from the city
Where the golden river flows
By the crooked path
Where the deep green leaves rustle
As the breeze sweeps my front porch
Near the apple tree
The jade fountain is silent
As the sun rises
A pirate buried treasure
Where the river makes a curve
Birds rest in the trees
Where filtered sunlight slips through
In the morning sun
Poets argue over chess
In their own special manner
Pale orchid blooming
Safe among the ancient pines
...how precious the hours!
The time passes so quickly
A child becomes a man
One lingering star
Turns the landscape golden red
...flowers in shadow
Flies zig-zag in the sunlight
Dancing with their own shadow
Beyond the dark trees
Rose petals drift on the fog
Treetops in the clouds
A field of fine cotton
BeccaliciousThere once was a girl named Beccalicious
Who's ability to rhyme seemed quite suspicious
Said she: There's no reason to feel fright
I just want you to try and write
So pick up your pencil and be ambitious
Bloom With A SmileA plant gives its life to produce some seeds
Overcoming insects, drought, bad soil, and weeds
And then those seeds begin to blow
Surviving animals, disease, and the cold winter's snow
On an awesome spring day, one seed finds a home
Right next to a manhole, so far it did roam
In a tiny bit of soil, this seed was planted
Not one speck of moisture did it take for granted
It scrimped and it saved the energy that it had
The intensive heat from the asphalt was so bad
And with the toxins and the exhaust from the buses and cars
It might have been better to live in the atmosphere of Mars
And yet each day it struggled, and it continued to grow
Despite being stepped on, and taking many a blow
And with the help of its friends, the sun and the rain
The little plant endured, through all of the pain
Often it thought it would be better to dry up and blow away
But the those loving friends made things better so it could stay
Its two leaves became four, and four became eight
Some days were awful, some da
Stop putting words in my mouthYou shove your fingers
down my throat,
and insert words
I never spoke,
in desperate hopes
to make me choke
my pearly gates
that feeds me
swallow the universedecay remembers you --
fever breath and ocean-eyed ghosts,
secrets that smoke with poison desire.
we wake only to drink, to devour
the naked voices of dismantled stars.
glass kisses turn into granite lips
and pillars of salt; a haunted embrace
melts into the cracks of the universe.
Love is not blindLove is not blind. It can see clearly.
It looks past the boundaries.
It defies the judging stares of society.
It is a force to be reckoned with.
eight.sometimes i feel
life's been played like a puppet
on a tangled
[yet still i'm lifeless without you .]
eidolon longingbreath salts open rooms
that entomb my idle hants.
in gloomy aberrance.
when the pulse was flaunted
remain the pursuit
of lanterns haunted.
questions flung like
furtive surface glances
ghost through iris eyelines
with an epiphany;
this search sparked
full body shudderings.
shuttering every window
and portal alike,
a light threatened by
the tending toward pulsatory spikes.
aorta, i spied you
spidering open your eyes
sliding the pursuit of dawn
through your dim sight.
with the sun, beat,
you forge forward for
warded window panes,
a rhythmic wonder repeat.
but eyelids live locked,
a careless cage holding
in this socket shock.
tock and tick that slick swindle options;
your image a lit blossom in a bottomless pit.
i’m reaching, but god, this
isn’t possible when
you’re this obstinate;
i am a fossil you’ve discarded
with hardly a sniff.
snuff me out, i’ll sputter devout and wish
my cardiac espousal had been more
seven.my nights for the last weeks have
consisted of liquid
poison, smoke in
and the chilled sound of
wake up with my
head half off the sidewalk,
surrounded by shards of
and a faint touch of
[ill pick myself back up on my own two
feet.. and stumble back;
she had come seeking a riotshe found religion in silence.
there wasn't a prophet's bone
in her body, not a holy cell of skin, but
somehow she was something
to believe in. she called herself a woman, not an angel nor
madonna, and the crucifix on her tongue could
not make her hold her words.
they called her witch and called her
goddess, made of something
such as marble, but she said she wasn't one
to be revered -
icons made of glass were
made to break, she claimed she was not
born to die;
(silence is found in the loudest of tongues, for speaking is an art
not all have learned-)
The Proposed Subway RouteWe're all going to die
We have bitten off more than we can chew
The future doesn't matter
Life is just death in transitu
Some disembark too soon.
Along the proposed subway route
Everyone is lost
Nothing is absolute
Stick alongside men of prestige,
And receive the acknowledgement
So if I travel with great heroes
I will remain confident
While the wheat bends before the reaper
And the darkness brushes against my skin
Hold my hand just for a moment
And comfort me as a dear friend
As you touch my lips
My flesh crumbles at your touch
The sunbeams that seem to pierce the glass
Don't disturb the darkness all that much
The dogs of war shouldn't be forgotten
You must remember me
Still, though we exit with the poets
This is no guarantee...
Don't forget all that has gone before
While my memories reach into your mind
Torn photographs remind you
Of all the lost people left behind
Recognition and awards is part of the pleasure
Until someone forgets...
I will expect nothing...
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More