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A Sense of Time StillFracture a moment
Spread out the pieces
Examine its insides
Let it all crash together.
Push the first domino
Flip the coin into the air
Set the metronome's pace
Wind up the pocket watch.
A miniscule momentum
A flicker of a force
An inkling of an impulse
And time orchestrates its grand symphony,
And it will, unnoticed,
Proceed and multiply, grow
And end and start again,
Until time stops
In a moment of quiet.
Poetry of the ProcessI ponder for a moment:
What has inspired me this time?
Something rather mundane? Not surprising.
My mind, a lens; refracting reality
Into some profound and abstract metaphor
If it's a poem I'm writing – and it often is –
It becomes rather exciting,
As I spit out a few nice lines
But then I'll spend an eternity looking for perfect rhymes.
(I'm a bit of a perfectionist, you see.)
If it happens to be a bit of prose
– Which is rare, as any frequent reader knows –
It's more than likely rather morbid,
Or funny, or conceited and self-absorbed.
Non-phonetic rhyming (like the rhyme above) – that is,
Words that look like they might rhyme, but don't
(When spoken aloud) – is among my favourite
Techniques to use; and when I write one, I savour it.
But getting back to prose, for a moment –
Often, I'll write a wonderful piece
And, out of nowhere, there comes a sentence
That I don't like at all.
And it ruins everything! All that hard work,
But the Stars Still ShineThe pools in your eyes are leaking their salty water
And your sorrow bleeds through your hands
As they clasp your still-beating heart
Your sadness rent from you, violent,
Cathartic, and debilitating, but wonderful.
Your life may be shattered,
But the stars still shine.
You'll tear your hair out,
And panic will set in,
You might collapse,
Under the sheer weight of your anxiety.
But something drives you on.
You will mourn for kindred souls
And the flames in your eyes
May sputter and go out,
Choked by pain and grief.
But some cosmic force will push you.
You will die here,
Likely in pain,
As will we all,
Perhaps this is cruel.
But life still rages on inside you.
Your body will continue on,
Without you, in other forms
And in other things,
For billions of years.
And you will shine among the stars.
Heresy is HearsayMalevolent whispers and vile intonations
Threaten the purity of innocent minds
Conspiring words and muttered rebellions
Strike deep into hearts of the fragile kind.
Drifting into the paranoid ears
Of powerful men and vain personas
Floating on the gentle winds
Like hastily confessed sins.
For the Folly of the FallenThe sunlight rains down upon the ragged wilderness
And the shadows dance as the breeze rustles the branches
Of the hallowed, gnarled trees, their bows heavy
With age, the weathered bark stoic, and as ever
Impenetrable to the harsh forces brought to bear.
Angels' feathers drift down from the pale sky
Lost from the torrid wings of the ones who fell.
Ash floats languidly to the earth, alighting softly
Upon the roots and soil of the ancient arboretum;
The tranquility of the forest remains undisturbed.
Blood drips from innocent hands; a morbid petrichor
Wafts up from the dry earth, a sickening odour
To compliment the horrid sight. The mind recoils
From this assault on the senses; the nose scrunches,
The eyes shut tight, and the hands cover the ears.
War is a game of chess
Where the pieces bleed
And the kings never die.
The rain falls into reddened rivers
That would elsewise be clear and cold
But for the Folly of the Fallen.
The Sky Ablaze with InnocenceTributaries of blood flow down the arm
Of a dying man, pooling into his hand.
Miniscule red waterfalls flow between
His inanimate fingers; draining away
What little semblance of life remains.
So returns the hot blood of the Earth
To the crucible from which it was forged
The carrier of the animating force; life
Seeping back into the soil of its genesis.
Biological clockwork, rent from its frame
With no regard for Nature's craftsmanship,
Nor for the evolutionary legacy written
Over the eons by the blind watchmaker.
The wyrd of too many an innocent
Snapped by the whims of the rich;
Tapestries spun by chance and intent
Torn from the halls of the living
By the greed of the powerful.
Rivers of red flow though the clouds
As the Sun sets on this vicious day
The blood of the innocent spilled
Across the sky; the soil stained.
When Stars CollapseThis is how you bespeckled my bones
with bewilderment: you kissed hushed heart
whispers and slumbering secrets
into my fingertips. You infused awe
into my joints, causing me
to ask how snowflakes got their
shape and how long would it take
to get from the Sun to Capella.
You taught me that energy is neither
created or destroyed; stars do not die.
Eyes washed with emerald sorrows you
told me that they evolve, they change
into something entirely different,
or not so different.
I now know we are made of the same
particles as someone or something else.
We began someplace together.
We're made of so much more than "star-stuff",
we are made of each other.
The Breaths Between Usi'm minutes away
from the collision site
the breaths between us
and the lost time
clock guts, sprung
our hallway uncoils
his walnut lean
i'm seconds away
from the before
of our near-miss
the beads of air
and the imperfections of
in a rumored heart
a stuttering mass
this broken belled
has lost hold
of the lives we live
its skullsong rings
the same vibration
In a world with no mercy
Day after day
Until the end
The day I die
And then maybe
I'll find some peace
I am me. Who are you?I am fragments
of every person
I've met; every
memory made; every
bond formed and tie broken.
I am an orchestra
of people's opinions;
each snide comment
each casual remark
each passing compliment
I am a library
of forgotten lies
and fake smiles
and empty promises.
I am a sky of hope;
filled with stars
which carry the wishes
of the people I have encountered
I am never alone
for their influence will forever
taint my soul and
remind me of their hopes,
dreams and pain.
This is who I am.
Who are you?
on remembering to breathe:i.
you can't hold it in for forever.
your lungs weren't
made to bear the weight
of this world, they weren't made
to left unexpanded
and unexplained -
it is not phenomenon that wakes you
when paralysis hits in the
night, it is physiology telling you that
not everything happens on automatic, okay?
(at least not for always)
you're born like a time bomb, with
only so many beats of
your heart in place to tick away day by day -
your words, they're the same.
there's a time limit
on your tongue, so say something that
means something - use words
that dig in and rip out hearts, use words that
curl around your fingers and worm their
way into your soul.
use words to make something
beautiful. something remembered.
never leave three things
left unsaid because they can be three
words that mean everything -
i'm not telling you to save your breath.
i'm begging you not to waste it.
sing. sing enough to take your breath
away because even though
it leaves you gasping, it fills up that
That rebuilding trust is difficult
Would be an understatement of the highest order.
It's a lot like relearning how to walk.
With each small step,
I keep thinking I'll fall--
And I may--
But I haven't yet.
My heart and left leg
Throb in protest,
But there's a certain joy in progress
That keeps me moving forward.
Hide YourselfDon't let the light touch
Your opened eyes
Sightless, there's never been such
Vibrant, open skies.
There's no one around.
You don't have to hide,
You won't be found.
In me you may confide.
Pull off that horrid mask
Imposed by our empty society
(It's an arduous, painful task;
Not often performed in sobriety.)
Let shine that inner fire
Of your whole being entire
Let yourself be truly known
(You might find you're not so alone.)
Break the chains of expectation,
Rise above your assigned station.
Free yourself from isolation.
Become your own creation.
Why hide yourself?
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