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Those were the daysIn the day when troubles were surmounting on furrowed brows And cigarette smoke wafted along reeking of unfulfilled desires And failure manifested itself in a frayed-ended-rope, tied amongst the heavens, Evidence BThose were the days
In the day when drugs were drugs and lovers were drugs And happiness was a drug too; Unreality coiled around necks and slowly stifled Never strangled. Why, in the day, the men of wisdom would read from classics And proclaim from their knowledge, that two and two make four
But those were the days before coitus The fifteen minutes before the five-minute-bliss And th
by ~spokeinthewheel
Never YoursWhen poetry flies away from you, like a dew drop repellant from a thirsty flower,Never Yours
You at once feel petrified, regretful, angry et al
And attempt to bring the magic closer by enchanting yourself, by growing closer
Towards the nearest source. When flowers turn towards
The grass, and the moss creeps upon stationary stones, and the words
Flutter away and you follow them like an angry lizard,
Only then do you realize that all along
The Poetry was never yours.
by ~spokeinthewheel
Wayward ConversationCarnal desire hath never tempted me more than now As I wander amidst tapering fields of lust And perchance to skip closer to your abode Though your presence is doubted: doubted, too much.Wayward Conversation
I rarely experience a hunger so great Except when starved of games for the mind I suppose it would be improper of me to suggest That we conscientiously forget, and intertwine?
Lovers were never meant to be frank For Love’s potion would then be lost Esotericism makes eroticism appealing Of course, you say, but at what cost?
To quantify the importance of lust, let
by ~spokeinthewheel
OmensPhilosophers wash their hands in cradles of guilt, as they question life’s insanityOmens
While soothsayers whisper in hidden stairwells, speculating on the fate of humanity
Apocalyptic thoughts weave around teenagers’ heads, as the music pauses
To usher in a generation of god-fearing gentry, ready to die
For birth is nothing but death begun
And poets proclaim it from rooftops of verse
And newspapers print it as today’s headlines
And politicians quote it to remind us to abuse, that one vote
And analysts convince us that there is no
by ~spokeinthewheel
Random Favourites
Woes Of A FarmerFor lo, did we not, in December Forget the heat wave of July. In bitter cold, do I remember The terror of that cloudless sky.Woes Of A Farmer
The blazing sun crashed from the heavens Onto our desert fields of drought, And every night, just after seven, We'd sleep, tomorrows luck in doubt.
Hope, like our water storage hither Had almost dried beyond despair As, scorched to death, our plants did whither And almost burst to flames, I swear.
My mind cannot escape that picture. The heat's unyielding grasp did hold... My ice-cold fingers write these scriptures &
by ~Emsem
Hey Baby..by =hoschie
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deviantID
| However much can be put into words, i don't think I'd ever be able to describe myself, not because I am "unfathomable". but because I am yet to discover myself. Through poetry, I try to get closer... Shakespeare, Whitman, Blake and other such olde poets are what I read-- so I suppose my work is fairly obsolete and un-innovative. Not the subject matter, though! (or so I try.) |
Devious Info
- Current Residence: India
- Interests: romance, poetry, particle physics, music, literature, TV, politics
- Favourite movie: uhm. Tough choice. I'd have to say... Sound of Music! (joking- though its great :D)
- Favourite band or musician: Right now its Radiohead/Porcupine tree
- Favourite genre of music: alternative
- Favourite artist: Monet and Manet :)
- Favourite poet or writer: Shakespeare, Walt Whitman, William Blake, the Brontes, Alexandre Dumas....
- Favourite photographer: my boyfriend :)
- Favourite style of art: literature/poetry
- Operating System: Windows XP
- MP3 player of choice: iPod
- Favourite cartoon character: Stewie Griffin, Zuko/Sokka from the Avatar
- Tools of the Trade: A heart filled with discontent = paper and ink well spent.
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just, err, once I get some free time.
I'M THE ONE TO DAAARE THE WEAK!
TO PUSH YOU ALL OVER THA PAAAAIN!!!!!
it was actually inspired from the Black Label Society song, spoke in the wheel
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~a heart filled with discontent = paper and ink well spent~
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forgive my ignorance!
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~a heart filled with discontent = paper and ink well spent~
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Thanks for the fav'
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"I stopped believing there was a power of good and a power of evil that were outside us. And I came to believe that good and evil are names for what people do, not for what they are." — Philip Pullman (The Amber Spyglass)
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