Browsing Literature on deviantART

Found 32 relevant deviations

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Paper Year...3 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry

ScrapbookWe cut out words
and colourful faces
newspaper randsom notes
littering the floor of
a psychiatric ward.
We pull them together
to glue messages of hope
to our hearts,
and blow on the ink.
Maybe I'll be out tomorrow
Maybe...Scrapbook2 years ago in Free Verse

Dear Diary...6 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry

Picture frames dedicated to my love1 year ago in Visual & Found Poetry

Artcrossing: Wolverine and Nightcrawler Get Coffee

"Are we there yet?"

Logan stifled a growl, refraining from turning to face the source of the annoyance. It was Kurt, of course, that little blue devil. He hadn't kept his mouth shut the entire trip, so why should he start now? "No, it's still a good couple of hours," he replied, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Kurt grinned at him from the passenger seat, his white teeth standing out starkly against his midnight blue skin. "Just wondering," he cheekily quipped. Crouching on his hind legs on the seat, he fiddled with the image inducer he always kept with him.

Logan sighed, rubbing his eyes as the road in front started to blur; he may beArtcrossing: Wolverine and Nightcrawler Get Coffee10 months ago in Short Stories

DLSS Chapter Eight A Day in the Life of Serahsurii
Remix
Chapter Eight: True Colors Revealed

"BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP, BEEEEEEEEEEEP," Serah's eyes crack open as she reaches out to smack her alarm clock off of her night stand. She sits up slowly, glaring down at the red numbers shining on the floor and stretches languidly. Getting out of bed she grabs her clothes and staggers into the hall, heading into the bathroom. Serah throws her clothes on the hamper and reaches for her toothbrush, rubbing her eyes, then peeps through her finDLSS Chapter Eight4 years ago in General Fiction

i am a melodramatic prince. p65 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry

Scrapbook RomanceScrapbook Romance

I was thinking about writing you,
well, to be honest, myself,
because of our Scrapbook Romance
I have photos, some letters
and the light in august,
but nothing seems tangible

Distances have never been
a good skill for me,
but I’ll be waiting
It’s a sin now to count days,
so I’ll just estimate
how long I haven’t heard anything

Eyes have to be the portal
of someone’s soul,
but we didn’t need them
I watched you seeing trough me
and you became clear in return,
I’m searching for that warmness

I was thinking about writing you,
well, I guess I’ll never
address this letterScrapbook Romance4 years ago in Free Verse

Memorable events in my lifeWARNING: WALL OF TEXT

One day, a long long time ago, my parents took me to the circus. I was really excited. The most excited that I had ever been in my entire life. So excited, that I wet myself. And my parents had to take me home so i could change. Once I was all clean, we made our way back to the circus. When we got back there were cop cars everywhere. Some black guys got busted in the hood yo for dealin' up some baaad stuff to those circus clowns ya know what I mean dog? So one of the cops stuffed one of the drug bags in their pocket and I'm a really good pickpocket so i took it and ran away, later selling the bag and making BANK (A lot Memorable events in my life3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes

Beach Party 022-1st draftBeach

Derek, Olivia, Noah, Ruby, and Sophie are spending the day at the beach. Everyone is dressed to go swimming except Ruby. Derek and Noah take off their shirts and race into the ocean meanwhile Ruby and Olivia set up camp. Ruby places a couple of towels down on the sand while Olivia puts up the the umbrella to provide shade. Ruby lays down on one of the blankets and enjoys the shade. Olivia is puzzled by Ruby's actions.

Olivia

(Confused)

Hey Ruby, Why did you come to the beach today? I mean your not dressed to go swimming or anything.

Ruby closes her eyes.

Ruby

(Relaxed)

No reason in particular.

Cliff

Noah and Derek are on a smaBeach Party 022-1st draft2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters

Letters From the Sky3 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes

Paper hearts

here we go again
back at the start
we sit here fighting
going at eachothers throats

we could put this back together you know
grab the tape and glue
i know the cracks will show
but only if its worth it to you

maybe you've changed your mind
and moved on
but i've only put what we had away
believe me its not gone

where have we gone to
i'm so scared to live without someone
like you

so if you wanna
if your're ready
come back and tell me
come back and get me
and dont forget our paper heartsPaper hearts8 years ago in Free Verse

PagesSmear lead on paper,
Release emotions into freedom
Just to crumple the page,
Lock it all away once more.

Give the world its blatant lie
So sanity can re-imagine itself:
Paper thin and wavering,
Mascara-ink blotting tissue.

Droplets break on impact,
Shattering images -already broken-
And spreading them across the page
Of a memory scrapbook.

Made from white-lie borders,
Crimson life-blood frames;
Shattered memory images,
Mascara and tear ink.

Turn the pages,
Watch the flickering flame die.
The next page is black;
Frameless, wordless, dead.

Keep going, one page left.
Burned black and scarred from its neighbor,
But clear of Pages1 year ago in Free Verse

IceBorn out of ice
into a lukewarm world
slowly melting awayIce1 month ago in Free Verse

ForgetForget

You try to forget,
try to distract yourself
from the thoughts.
You don't want to think,
not about her,
anymore.
It drives you nuts,
keeps you from sanity.

But you can't let go,
she's still always
in your mind.
Why won't she leave?
Why can't you get
her away?

You haven't seen her,
haven't heard her,
in weeks.
She is gone.
But not to you.

You still taste her,
still see her in the
corner of your eye.
Still stare at every
white car that passes,
as it might be
her.

Why can't I get
her away?Forget5 years ago in Free Verse

i am a melodramatic prince. p55 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry

My Paper BagIt was about the length of a forearm, pure white, and quite crumpled paper. A blue lettered logo was near the top of the bag, reading "Drug Store" and partially hidden beneath the rolled fold of the bags top, held together by a staple. Well, it would be read as "Drug Store" if there hadn't been a tear through it, cutting the St from the ore. Even, square shaped crease marks covered the entire object's surface, making it appear as if it'd been folded up before being opened and filled with whatever medicine the purchaser had needed. It was really old now; the bag, that is. It showed crumples and crinkles throughout, giving the feel that it'd beMy Paper Bag1 year ago in Short Stories

Paper FlowersI think it actually makes sense, the way that I have been called upon to remember my days past from the photos that we have, and how I can't look back that far because my pictures are gone. My father has them. They are up in his house in Vermont – he took them with him when he divorced my mother about eight years ago. Those old memories stand out fresh in my mind as ever, but I have no pictures to show for them until I go up and see him again. It strikes me as ironic, then, that the one photographic memory that does come to mind more prominently than any other is about my mother's second marriage – just about as far from a past divoPaper Flowers4 years ago in Biography & Memoir

EvolutionAt first I did as infatuation demanded
and wrote myself out in long strings of words
made my throat swallow the poison
opened wide to embrace division
returned again and again
to affliction

Then my mind released its thoughts
on folded paper birds that
descended out of light and never reappeared
still I searched for them
stared in the dark eyes of strangers

finding nothing lost myself, collapsed
slept cheek against the wall contorted
woke five hundred miles away
and stayed
thinking I could be a murderer of choices

So I interrogated trees to pursue wisdom
buried my feet in salt to starve them
never ever walked on grass
until subdued, theyEvolution3 weeks ago in Free Verse

Random laughterA note of bell like laughter rang out through the forest. A laughter like none ever heard before. It was a wonderous and hypnotizing sound, echoing through the trees and coming from all directions. Animals stopped to listen to the glorious sound. Even the trees seemed to be listening. A second note of laughter joined the first, this one low and husky, steady and slow. The two sounds blended perfectly with one another. The fast, bell like laughter and the slow, husky laughter creating a song that was to wonderful to be described with words. Ever so slowy, the laughter died away and the forest fell silent. Not even the wind stirred. The forest Random laughter4 years ago in General Fiction

i am a melodramatic prince. p45 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry

Sun Valley BeachWhen I was a kid I was invincible. There was nothing that could scare me aside from snakes, spiders and the unwanted creepy crawly bug. But invincibility is only a cheat code for gamers and something I no longer delude myself into thinking I possess.

I'm getting ahead of myself. Sun Valley Beach isn't actually a beach. It was more of an oversized swimming pool that called itself a beach to attract the landlocked people of metro-Atlanta, Georgia. This "beach" had various sorts of water slides and little kiddy areas. They couldn't call it a water park because, as my best friend Larissa used to say, "Water parks have enough rides to go on all dSun Valley Beach5 months ago in Stories & Vignettes

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