|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
lol - A Poem for my WifeThey were once a happy couple
But now resentment seems to linger
It has been 6 months now
Time you came and pulled on my finger
The make-up has gone
and now it's curlers to bed
Time to see my psychiatrist
And find out what's wrong with my head
Take the garbage out she bellows
I heard this to so many times before
As I drag the bag to the curb
I call her nasty names like bitch and whore
With each day her list grows longer
How much more can she demand of me
This question steady in my head
Perhaps it is time to run and be free
Now now she tries to dress me
Always telling me what not to wear
My head says one thing
but my mouth always says "Yes, Dear"!
The Eyes Tell No LiesThis poem was inspired by a friend and this is a basic interpretation of her relationship struggles.
The fear of hurt continues to linger.
As I have been hurt so many times before.
Are they possibly the one for me?
For this is the person that I want to adore.
I look deep into their soul
And as I peer into their eyes
I continue to sit and wonder
Is this physical beauty just a disguise?
Past the iris a familiar feeling stirs
I have seen this to many times before
The eyes so contradicting
Not this time, I will be a fool no more.
As my feelings fade
And the fear eats me whole
It has become painfully obvious
This person needs some makeup for their soul.
I shall continue my search
from the caverns below to the beautiful skies
I will know my true love
I'll just need to look into their eyes.
The Ugliness of ConceitThe Ugliness of Conceit
She checks the mirror
Feels that beauty is abound
So perfect in her own mind
She's ready for a night on the town
Heels so high
Cleavage so low
Hair is perfection
It is soon time to go
She scours the bar rooms
In seek of a suitor
But no takers again
She just wants someone to love her
So sure of her beauty
She reminds all her prey
"What is wrong with them;" She asks
But no takers this day
She sits and cries
Asks; "Why don't I feel whole"
What this poor gal needs
Is some make-up for her soul
dear diarysleep and nausea are my brothers.
the propaganda on tv
is the backdrop to my meandering.
(once the wave paves the way for warmongering traders...)
"choose us. let us, not them, be"
the ones to deliver
rape and ravage to your doorstep.
so far so bad. they coke, we pepsi. all
big boys now, hands capable of cupping
the schoolyard bullies grow up and instead of stones throw
abstractions, abstractions, abstractions.
if brainwash should shed
calculated light on the
tangle of armed hypocrisy,
let it at least be slow and gentle,
rock my brain into a rudimentary reverie
of how the earth will (never) tilt
in our favour but they
will never destroy us.
under topol-m wings.)
do not succumb
or invest your heart in this drivel.
warships make you seasick. your brothers are
sleep and nausea.
a note from an angry feministdon't you think it's strange
(and with strange
i mean complete and utter bullshit)
that some ladies don't have the obvious right
to their own bodies
that hundreds of thousands acts of rape happen every year
and you can bet your ass
that it's the one fake accusation that makes it into the papers
that in media
seventy six percent of main characters are dudes
that women still have to fight
for the same wage
for the same god damn job
that breasts are threatening
if it's not in a sexual situation
that fragile societal structures
make less than ten percent of world population
that the gender binary
is actually a thing
that people will roll their eyes when you-
"feminism isn't needed anyway"
RespectLaugh at the dull
Compliment the ugly
Stay with the stench
Approve the failure
Watch the decay
Don't stop the fall
The Way From The House To The GarageWhat d'you think they did,
these unlettered kids? They discovered
cheap electronic music machines,
they taught them the beat. They fed the sound
through amps and megaspeakers,
their vibrations generated shock waves,
bass tracks that shook the ground.
And the kids did what their singers had always done,
finding their own way to shout their blues.
With their megadecibel beat, they could at last
release their long imprisoned anger. They holler'd it,
coining a new jive to give their feelings shape.
Music for body and mind, teaching mind
a thundering route to ecstasy! (Some free spirits
left the shackles of poverty behind.)
The Unattainable"You are beautiful"
Who thought that
would be so hard
because if you say
I am beautiful
you are conceited
yet if you decline
I am not beautiful
you are insecure
to the constraints
in their ability
a lack of self-belief
while all the while
who harbour it.
All the media
explaining what is
what is not
creating unreachable goals
set to make one wish
to sell their souls
if only they could
achieve the unattainable
words of advice
are brushed aside
as much as any compliment.
Contemplation at DuskStarlight, star bright
first start that I see tonight
I wish, I would wish it all away,
the darkness of what we have wrought,
I would wish myself
protected by the spirits of the Earth,
made safe from my own foolishness,
the foolishness of all my people,
but before I can speak,
my wish is ripped by the winds,
the winds wailing across the heavens
singing the sad songs
of all my descendants not to be
who cannot be
because of what we are making,
the evil that humanity has wrought
sad are the songs
of loss beneath this endless sky
spangled with stars,
our destiny is not there,
but in the dust
the wind carries,
bitter with what could have been.
The world does not need us.
Sad fates await
for ignoring that,
sad fates await
those innocent of the decisions,
ghosts of tomorrows,
the walking dead,
all those dreams.
But the stars do not need us,
nor the night,
nor the world we are part of.
The spirits of the earth know that
and bide their time.
will not reach out
CorpseA corpse is the shell of a soul,
A soul who has left this world.
While the soul enters a new otherworld,
It's shell is left behind.
Never again to be inhabited by someone,
While the soul finds peace in the afterlife,
It's shell is left to rot.
Never again to breath,
Never again to move,
Never again to think,
Never again to feel.
SocietyYou're always complaining
Society did this
Society did that
Society ruined this
Society ruined that
Society killed him
Society killed her
I hate society
Society is cruel
Well, guess what
We are all society
If you want society to change
Change what you don't like!
If nobody starts,
Why should others follow?
It's your turn now
If the people are nice to each other
Society will be nice too
You will see
Naya Selenia, 09. 03. 2014
Pharmacy Freedom Poem - Natural HealthPharmacy Freedom
Some call it a conspiracy
And opinions do vary
No matter the reasoning
It is all still quite scary
Our symptoms are masked
But our illnesses remain
They are keeping us sick
For their own monetary gain
Chemicals are our Medicines
And the world has become lazy
But somehow us Naturalists
are the ones that they call crazy
It is even in our Bibles
A part of a divine plan
That God created herbs
For the service of man
I refuse to be murdered
No longer a victim to greed
From this moment forward
My medicine will start as a seed
Genghis Whenever we were bad my mother used to take us to the mall to see Genghis Kahn. They kept him in a dusty diorama of a Mongolian steppe, all tall grass and yurts. He sat on a throne of bone (well, plastic shaped like bone), scowling in incomprehension at the American kids who flocked around him like startled lemmings. My mother would usually push us toward him, saying things like “Tell him what you did to your father’s stamp collection.” Genghis would give a grunt, spit a wad of phlegm onto the tall grass, and give us a wizened, wrinkled grimace, as if he had to go to the bathroom.
He terrified me.
My brother couldn’t get enough of him.
When my brother got caught in my mother’s evening dress, my mother grabbed us both and dragged us to Genghis. It was a slow day, and we were the only kids crowding him. “Tell him what you did,” my mother hissed a
Keep in Touch!
Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More