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Did you ever take a creative writing course in high school or college? And if so, did you get anything out of it? 

30 deviants said No
26 deviants said Yes


Journal Entry: Fri Aug 22, 2014, 6:36 PM
Philadelphia Museum Of Art by NightlineTime Dilation by Mandala-Jims h o w i n g by creativemikey goldocean, i have no more words to give you,
it smells too much like summer,
too much like home, but you are
a thousands miles away
Gaea wants to be Midas, the earth is in
a million shades of the ring
you left on my front porch,
of my mane back when i was wild, when i was free.
i remember when was your leo, you'd stare at the stars and wonder
what it felt to be molten but still burning
but you'd never know, never know,
because the sun doesn't taste like honey
when the well runs dry, it tastes like
                                                             death. (sometimes i miss you,
                            but i know better)
Beachy head lighthouse by garethjns DisplayWhen fragrances and drinks succeed one another
like summer's days, unfriendly and damp
you barely know who's limb you're holding
but physically that may be all we need
The hair is not the most savage part
of us, but it's the only one that shows
at first; now is the time to exchange roles
without the kink of a whip and leather boots
I'm in the defendant's booth
trying to enjoy my tears and guilt
Don't drown in the trail left on my cheek
that is the test
that I unwittingly put on a display
for you
baby chameleon by lisans NaPo XXIII. Magnum OpusI will not reach my best before I die.
Perhaps upon my passing, I'll confer
A greater worth to all my pen supplied
And maybe one or two will be preferred
By readers who come after. But not yet--
Oh no, I've miles to go before I sleep.
Four hundred fifty years, and they'll forget
I ever lived, for poems may not keep.
But maybe one will turn up on a page
Folded in a journal, faded ink
And read by my descendants in an age
When such archaic words will make them think.
I'll raise a glass of tea to that and pray
That future daughters give their best this way.
RG Veda: Kendappa-o by Misaki-SaiHello, little Caterpillar... by ChristianGerthGhosties Beach I by Glenn-Crouch ice fishing: circa 1982white bucket simple rods red bobbers ice scoop
clamber in 1977 slant six blue dodge
arrive smelling the snow like a dream
walking tall across the ice no fear
sit by the hole waiting
hands red raw burning smiling grins
eight years old north pole dreaming vast
tin pail ice scoop sitting granddad pipe tobacco
black ice with blue-veined cracks
polar eternity each ridge an adventure
old blue pickup granddad at the wheel
lonely red sun black pine shadows over snow
washboard ride to home quiet country music local AM
cold happy boots unlaced waiting to return like old sailors
hungry for their sea-bride
dampers opened fire kindling crackles lustily
hard salami saltines tap water mustard pickled bologna
roger mudd reassuring fidelity calm static commercial
granddad briar pipe carter hall tobacco quietly puffing fragrant reality
strength that will never fail beyond surety beyond question beyond imagination
of anything else
to bed to sleep at peace
Overture and UnderworldOverture and Underworld:  
59 and counting, surmounting the sublime and divine
It has been a rough year, a tough year.
Heroes falling and lovers stalling
(waiting to see if they can make a better deal).
Seals cracked and blistered, insistence
shading into ambivalence, future tense
and the dollars and sense of best laid plans
making mock the monk and the steamer trunk
where the metamorphosis used to occur,
hinges now rusted shut and air running out.
Shout and the audience cannot hear, as they cheer
the lights and legerdemain, vain pavonine flourishes
nourishing nothing but overstuffed egos.
My father passed a day after the new year turned,
quietly and with dignity.
Awake to the end, aware and reassuring
that he was okay.
I don’t think I will slip away in peaceful acceptance.
I will not go gentle into that good night,
the light is too bright and I have work undone,
a daughter and a son or two to look out for.
Wars and whores and spores and sores and scores
unsettled an
Autumn Grove by LillianEvill bird songssongs outside the glass
in the dew of morning past
remind me of the old life i had-
this life is not meant
to be lived between walls.
i hear songs of mating
calls of play,
songs of hunting,
and sounds of pain,
but it all comes down to
instinct and love is at
the base;
and i feel it embrace me
deep inside, a gentle drape
cold light silk,
the threads of lust,
it keeps me from falling
(it's the only thing that keeps me)
from melting back
into the dark dark dirt of my
suicide dreams.
Kotlina Klodzka III by myusernameistaken2Muse by Grinch7 BeaconsStars alight
Like beacons for ships that meet the shore
Hearts unsung
My life strung by these bright pinnacles
That bring question to everything I am
And anything that I bare
Loses all its weight
:thumb476511806: growththere is nothing more beautiful
than the softness of a man
you love more than
the earth
(shaking, geode),
a face gentle in sleep
and ardent in morning;
there is nothing more beautiful
than the first breath
of your spring,
your blooming dawn,
the incoming
of nothing but you
(blossoming, emerging,
you flourish)—
you are growing
and transforming
into something new,
and there is nothing
more beautiful
than that.
Chapter 6, Panel 181 by daniellieske DemonsI will
See the world without somebody opening my eyes
Live a life without living a leisure of lies
Say words that myself and I can understand
Give and take without eating the palm of your hand
I won't
Make a criminal rage in an innocent street
Break a heart that can't lift itself up to its feet
Change a life that was changing on time of its own
Hurt a father, a sister, a household, a home
I will
Drink the bile of resentment and swallow the dregs
Take the walk of shame proudly, on my battered legs
I will beat back your demons and scream out the truth
My love, I am not an abuser like YOU
a wreck-
age wearing
at the sea(m)s
of tidal vacancy;
I am the ocean, and
the moon has
forsaken me.
cling to reason,
I stumbled on
absence stagnant,
abrupt. bedridden yet
ever chas(m)ing, I  
fell to salt-soaked
ground from a
words were all it took
but all you do is take.
I am waking
and I am shaken
tsunami waves that break
in empty frantic fury;
you are
the briefest repose
or instant of stillness,
I yearn; instead
I am abandoned by language,
I am bound to languish beneath
mountainous (n)ever-rest
tempests that swell,
that quell
even the most desperate of breaks
for the shore.
Happily Ever After.. by SweediesArtFriendship I by SweediesArt 'Til Rome Burns Down'Til Rome Burns Down
I am a dishwasher.
Human, not machine.
I work at a busy restaurant near Pike's Place Market.
At work, I talk to no one.
I sweat.
I jitter.
One day, they'll fire me,
but I won't know how or why.
I should work faster.
They're going to fire me...
on an off-chance,
one glorious day,
when all boats beat against the current,
and night forgets to fall...
when the fish in the market return to life,
and swim feebly through half-melted ice...
when the Jamaicans that get high by the docks hit nirvana,
and all float soundlessly away...
all the buskers
and all the prep cooks and bus boys and dishwashers
will join me,
for I will win the lottery.
And I will buy my old restaurant,
but never retire.
I will sit in the dish pit and smoke
and watch the dishes pile
until every last customer storms out in anger,
and plates spill and break on the floor.
Visited Wake with a start possessed
of darkened awareness.   
The fan hums.  
Certain of a touch…
alone, yes.   No?
The fan whispers.  
This dream
is best left alone,  
(the fan hums)  
it clings,  
a thin film on the skin.  
The fan whispers.  
Consider the Malkovich theory, 
alone, no...Yes? 
The fan hums.   
© L. L. Kelly 2014
 To confront a person with his shadow is to show him his own light. Once one has experienced a few times what it is like to stand judgingly between the opposites, one begins to understand what is meant by the self. Anyone who perceives his shadow and his light simultaneously sees himself from two sides and thus gets in the middle.
“Good and Evil in Analytical Psychology” (1959). In CW 10. Civilization in Transition. P.872
 One does not become enlightened b
On the twilight of sleepingSwitch is up, plug it with seeing fingers,
your bedroom´s sun.
The small skies on your wrist, the square ones
on your cellphone
(bedtable is clean, so no chances
of parents rioting their voices
one unexpected hour in the future)
Don´t think about the moment
when the computers defeat your household elders
don´t think that everyone always believes
you can do everything
everyone will understand how to turn on,
so, eveything will have to be solved by you
as your eyes grow more annoyed 
at the erratic rest your brain is getting.
Turn down your electronic cuckoo
tomorrow will be a happy bare monday.
The tenth hour nears, close the door and seal it,
hope for sleep and silence,
the sheets will rise
the thrashtrucks will sing the inverted morning
and you will cradle a pillow,
like a teddy bear you lost
now awaking you up
to quickly feast on odd dreams
odd enough to make quilts
wake up wondering
how curious was the party.
Fluch des ewigen Kindes by Miss-BelfryNympha by ladyjudinaBig kitty by Jagu77 solar plexuseverything I touch is a dream.
the ragged skin of the blinds
that scrape against my fingers as
I pass through them,
the leftover dew of late rain
that welcomes me,
the eyes and egos
that diminish at my arrival.
I see everything
but not everything sees me
and this is the definition of a dream.
I mark time for fifteen hours,
showering myself with apathy,
gazing at the stars below
weaving flowers, sweat, and life itself
as I wait to die again in this moratorium.
they all wake up
as shadows of bustling hope
crowd everything I've ever loved;
a harbinger for the festivities to come
a vociferation of vampires.
and I take their silhouettes
as a pall over myself.
I too, will awake to the truth
and blackness of space
until it is my turn to dream about
those poignant, breathing commodities
War Never Changes by KurtzanGuess what!? by iiHeavenlyHalo by LudificoSailing.... by Tigles1Artistry A Good TruthYou were always there to fill my heart
The things you do, put me back in time
I always thought that things like charm were dead
But you are a dear
So polish my old shoes and this black hat
I need to go outside and see the world
My love, you’ve put me ahead of what I thought
I would ever be
I slowed down sometimes
before, when I was afraid of walking up and out and
I seemed shy
sometimes but it was, in truth, a loss of faith
The Philosophy of ExpressionWhat a liberating feeling it is
To use a tool of ink in your hand
To have the courage to scribble down
All aspects of humanity, good and bad
You possess the willpower to choose
To use your vocabulary to start a war
To change a persons perspective
To write a masterpiece that many can understand
You have the freedom to take a stand
It’s all been done before
But you will do it differently
Through mere words put together
You have the power to make a difference
You have the power to change the world by hand
The Man and the Molluski don't mean to dig
but the mollusk makes me
  its pulsating mass
         a constant reminder
  that i host its growth
                 and weight
our slow-moving foot
flows into itself
  feeling its future up
  toward dry land
                to feed
up this alone of evolution
and discovery
         of just how quickly
     that lives
         pulled off onto sidestreets
         or propped up in bathrooms
              are forgotten     (lost)
and how best intentions
     often forget
     into which slot
          the prayers go
i don't mean to drag
but the mollusk makes me
    drag it down
    to stir the silt

  • Mood: Love
  • Listening to: Summer
  • Watching: CNN
  • Drinking: Starr Hill IPA


Artist | Professional | Literature
United States
Current Residence: Cape Hatteras and New York
Favourite genre of music: All of it
Favourite style of art: All of it
Favourite cartoon character: Bill the Cat, Oor Wullie, Snoopy
Personal Quote: They're taking them out in little green bottles again, and they all look like you.

Blogspot thisdisturbingmagic.blogspot.c…


Thanks again, friend.
Mon Aug 25, 2014, 11:15 AM
Thanks for the fave today! :heart:
Sat Aug 16, 2014, 2:29 PM
thank you Brendan !
Sun Aug 3, 2014, 6:24 PM
Thu Nov 7, 2013, 4:24 AM
Happy Birthday, Sorry to see that you've left, :/
Tue Oct 29, 2013, 3:09 PM
Happy birthday your awesome <3
Tue Oct 29, 2013, 9:03 AM
Thank you for the fave!!
Mon Jul 22, 2013, 5:44 PM
Thanks for always supporting me! :]
Mon Jul 15, 2013, 12:28 PM
:heart: ... :hug:
Wed Jul 10, 2013, 8:50 PM
thank you! :hug:
Thu Jul 4, 2013, 9:39 AM


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ralfw666 Featured By Owner 4 hours ago   Digital Artist
Thank you very much! =D
jimfleming Featured By Owner 5 hours ago
Thanks :) My poesy is few and far between these days...More political prose and the muse is worn out....
Wordeea Featured By Owner 6 hours ago  Hobbyist Writer
thanks for the fav :)
TinaLouiseUk Featured By Owner 17 hours ago  Hobbyist General Artist
Fav by TinaLouiseUk
caddman Featured By Owner 21 hours ago  Professional General Artist
Thank you ever so much for the faving my work my friend i really appreciate the support ...cheers...:lolly:
L-Inque Featured By Owner 1 day ago   Writer
Thanks for the fav on 'Chill Air'  :)
BlackBowfin Featured By Owner 1 day ago  Hobbyist Writer
Hello Brendan.  Thank you much for faving Falling Back into Place.  It's much appreciated.  Have a good one.  :)
GargoylesBlood Featured By Owner 1 day ago  Hobbyist Writer
:shamrock: "Thank ye for the fave!" :shamrock: :boogie:
artsyspirit Featured By Owner 1 day ago  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the favorite!
Serendiipitii Featured By Owner 1 day ago  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the favorite (:
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