|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
The Cycle of PassionNever knowing eyes never did haunt us
’Tis our own ditty which fails to daunt us;
The amorous rose or the lovebird’s lustre
Leaves but two shades for a season’s fluster,
Yet the poet’s pen is perchance guided
With rabid romance, nature unprovided -
For summer songs are bare conversation
Betwixt life and long winter’s predation:
Pale thirst for passion or higher power
Quenches its quaff in the quiet hour,
The soul’s tragedy is in demanding
Liberty lost from body remanding
Creation’s cold woes and callous joys, cannot grace
Vanity’s visage or the selfsame face,
In vain, we swallow the daily smother
To love ourselves, we love another.
Sleep Well, My SoulSleep well, my soul, the light has passed
’Tis dark, this closing hour,
Rest in peace, sweet life, at last
Let your toils awake a flower.
Dream deep, asleep, of each roving wraith
Which sought a home in thee
And sigh a little, for the wasted faith
Which were born of you and me.
And smile beneath the mourning ground
As the world clasps morning’s glory,
For the moon still dotes the earth around
And the sun gilds another story.
And then, in a squall of rain and rue
Lament life’s sole severance;
For god and men, we wept them true,
Slighting our Reverence.
The Fall of EpithilinonI
Let no man speak of wars whence
No answer graced our call,
Let man remember gods thence
Gods, watchful of our fall;
Speak in silenced sighs, men,
Dead men hither sleep,
No flag here flails, amen, amen!
Who can ever beweep
Our brethren in the deep.
Frightened colours breached the sky,
The church bells played a dirge;
The bustling hills and vales so nigh
In crimson rage did merge,
Archers with crescents held high
Keen arrows fell like sin,
The portcullis in sorrow, shy
Interred our fathers in
The last grave of our kin.
Wailed the night in thunder blare;
The mangonels did come,
Lonely trumpets singed the air
When Earth ravished our home;
The eastern tower, wasting wear
For a trebuchet did bow,
Fallen stone and ballista bare
Broke its stony vow,
As the beadle mopped his brow.
Mildly armoured, men at arms
Stormed the brazen fray,
Howled the castle’s cold alarms:
Ladder men up the brae!
Blazed in ire the fields and farms:
The winter’s yield was spent;
A Slice of EntropyLife is not form or symmetry or a stack of hours
on a dustless shelf
falling, hovering, floating, flailing
feeling comfortably numb
in a lover’s grasp
is the autumn of an ancient anarchy
knowing all these affections are temporary
and as they cease, so shall I
from a star to a star
streaks the dye of the unending night
shedding colour on what is alive
basking in the ambivalence of creation
wondering what is the great purpose
of existence, survival, procreation;
Why must life go on?
life goes on
fantasy, excess, poverty
of objective, of reason
naught lasts a season,
gravity is the do all end all
in the cosmos, time rules god.
Wishes and wills, thoughts, sentiments, impulses,
cannot slow that unforgiving arm,
or plug that black hole of impendence,
victory and defeat
will meet at square 1;
the cheers and the jeers will die away
in the violence of that
Life – 0. Death – 0.
Vita incerta, mors certissima.
My Knight in Formal ArmourNobody loves Monday, but she was not Nobody. Monday mornings meant a host of official emails, a swarm of new themes to gossip about and a cup of tea that couldn’t quite wake her from the torpor instilled by the weekend’s laxness. Her boss would come up to her desk and take a progress report of her current projects and by the end of the day she would have to type it out send over once again. She would often order takeaway to brighten the fated day but it did little to change things when you have to be professional while eating your fricassee or your fries. A potpourri of “social synergy” events often took place on Mondays, but to know that that was another excuse to boost employee efficiency conveyed a heart of emptiness.
She worked on seventh grade textbooks, filtering through its content with the keen eye one develops as an editor and looked forward to that first cup of tea that would give her a few minutes to stare at the day’s excited sensex. The cup of
I died todayIn a hospital so white,
my eyes and ears open wide.
I take in the smells, people,
the thoughts that gladly ring.
Their cries of pure joy and victory,
leave me surprised and petrified.
I'm not in history..
I died today,
my lungs can breathe.
I died today,
my heart only sings.
My skin is still warm,
eyes still blue and white.
My mouth moves,
smoothing stiff grooves.
My arms raise,
My legs do as I say.
Nothing is injured, bent
and even broken..
Yet I died today..
And I am still alive.
Tender TortureWhy do you torment me, fairest one?
Are you doing it just for fun?
Why must you taunt me with your presence
Being near me and acting in ignorance?
So thin I suffer from translucence
Made see-through with insignificance
As you pass me by my eyes happen to chance
On yours, as if at a dance
Were you looking at me with your lingering gaze?
Making me think of imaginary days
And wishing for hypothetical years
Holding you close as old age nears
How do other men feel when met by your eyes?
Do their hearts begin to tell lies?
How much hurt do I need to feel
To know your affections aren't real?
I know it's futile, you told me so
With a tender voice a while ago
Now wordlessly you torture my soul
Which wants to think you're my whole
The Labyrinth of Me (Complete)Restless in the stormy night.
Like candle flame unwaning light.
Bound to wander 'tween the worlds.
Waking dreams my mind unfurled.
Void of colour just shades of grey.
No-one here to guide my way.
Echoes of a man lost in a dream.
Porcelain statues unable to scream.
The labyrinth of me lies ahead.
Each step, each breath fills me with dread.
On every wall my portraits hang.
Each one painted with an honest hand.
The jesters and whores in the labyrinth taunt.
Defiling my hopes and reaping reward.
Those I left widowed fill me with scorn.
Can they not see that i am reborn?
My darkest deeds a book on a shelf.
Chapters of envy and ill gotten wealth.
Judges grinning while banging their gavels.
The pages before me the black book unravels.
Some pages are empty and others unclean.
Allowing you only to see the obscene.
Myself I am judge no lies to deceive.
Like a mirror reflecting my every misdeed.
The revelation of faces grinning before me.
They are all me both judge and jury.
A guilty verdict the
Patience.First, it starts with a millisecond.
Then a second,
and after that a minute.
Fifty-nine minutes later, and it is an hour.
Twenty-three hours later it is a day,
and after a couple of weeks, it is a month.
Eleven months later it is a year,
and after a year, it is a century,
and after a century,
there is nothing.
So have patience.
"Trees that are slow to grow bear the best fruit." ~Moliere
Leave your whole life
Your soul has been called
Break the chains
Holding you back
But you can’t tell
What tears you apart.
No one has to know
By this time
We will hide
From the world.
Screams your name
Don’t let them down
Show your face.
Louder and louder
You are deaf.
But it’s time
To prove yourself
They want blood.
He is coming
Let the rage grow
Inside your veins
And you will be
What they want.
And Now I've Lost the StarsOh God, how did the sun turn into blood?
How did the lunar surface start to crack?
When all I did was lay my head to rest
As nightfall, soft, cascading in a flood
Bespoke my eyelids, conquered, muscles slack
Embraced in heavy slumber on its breast.
The night breeze took my breathings one by one
And carried them to frozen lands afar,
And crumbled all my dreamings into dust.
Oh God, I cannot move without the sun,
And now I've lost the stars.
An Era to Forgive
Out of the dark ages I come,
leaving the past behind.
Away from the pain, scars,
and my own demise.
Behind what I have put to rest,
a fire sparked from the ashes.
Hot and burning,
it claims what used to be mine....
I'm at peace with myself,
I've tasted my medicine.
Every day I live,
I learn to forget and forgive.
AnxietyTrembling, my heart goes weak
My body, and all muscles refuse to obey
For sanity, now I desperately seek
Someone, hold me and stay
Why does this person scare me so
Even though we haven't spoken in ages?
I'm scared, I'm scared, don't let me go
Talking to him makes my whole body quake
My fingers can barely hold a pencil
Or hold a simple fist
My knees vulnerable, please be still
The blood within racing
Life is slowly drifting from me
My nerves replaced with numbness
Fear replaces serenity
As I beg myself to stop making this mess
Of Empty Seas and Fated SkiesI.
She gave our golden days of summer
to Dionysian dreams,
chasing phantom shards of sunlight
as she fled the hand of Fate.
The sun was out and we were in
the Labyrinth in the kitchen,
searching small, dark cupboards
for the treasure she had hidden.
Swallowed up in all her sorrows,
swamped by soughing Acheron,
she drank the Lethean waters,
and forgot that we were there.
Bottled ichor, precious poison,
creeping shadow, black like ink;
in the Daedalean night,
we tipped it down the sink.
A wand’ring, cruel Odysseus,
he sailed in winter’s gales,
crashing like the heaving seas
and pounding us like waves.
Sonnet XVIIIThere goes another hour;
We have too many to keep.
To hoard away time and sleep
Ha! But we have the power!
Aye, though the sun may glower
In the evenings he will reap,
His warm gaze will lastly sweep
Amidst each field and flower
And perhaps he is thinking,
Though I cannot tell for sure,
What we think is certain cure
For all the defeats tasted,
People with clocks are clinking:
Another hour wasted.
a dangerous hallucinationThe light coming through the window was bright,
much too bright.
Even though my eyes were closed
I could see it-
The skin of my arms prickled,
sweat dripped from my brow.
It was two in the afternoon but…
the sun was setting
through the window facing east.
I should have seen the hutch,
shelves lined with bone china
decorated with delicate leaves and vines.
I was so thirsty
and reaching for cups that should have been there.
Instead I found a billboard of butterflies,
the colors raging
more than any rainbow
I'd ever seen.
Their wings fluttered and flashed
yet somehow they moved in slow motion.
I wanted to stand,
wanted to reach out and touch them but…
I couldn't move,
and yet I laughed
ignoring my dry mouth
and the tingling in my feet.
There was a tempest
on the rise
and in my blood.
A sugar rush disguised
as a riot of butterflies
and they were swarming me.
There was a small vial
of insulin in my pocket
that I nev
Keep in Touch!
scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More