|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
The Whole StoryFx. Intro music Lapis Philosophorum [piano solo]
Fx. Fades into the sound of rain against a window
Why did it have to rain today!?
I was going to go play footy in the park, but no. I got the joy of waking up at 11:30 to the feckin' rain hammering on my window and mum going on at me about how "since you're not going outside and I'm not having you spending YET another Sunday lounging around the house getting in my way, you might as well do me a favor and go check in with granddad!"
So here I am. Spending yet another gloomy Sunday afternoon sitting on a musty old arm chair in granddad's sitting room, nursing a flowery tea cup and trying not to inhale too much of the old person smell and cat hair.
Fx. The chink of a tea cup and the sound of him moving in the chair.
I knew he was going to tell me one of his stories again. I just knew it. It's what he always does. [Pause] I wouldn't mind if they were actually interesting or had some meaning to me as his grand
To Write You Into LinesI promised I would never write you into one of these
whatever you would call them
I told you long ago that I couldn't
A self-proclaimed poet;
too full up with idealistic notions
and self-satisfying dreams
Entrapment - Dream catcherOnce upon a time dreams were thought of as merely a succession of images, ideas and emotions that occur involuntarily in the mind during the stage of sleep called the REM cycle.
And once upon an entirely different time dreams where seen as a way of obtaining sacred wisdom and guidance for life.
But every night in the bedroom of Valentine Rêverie dreams are a thing to be feared ever since her* aunt had brought her the dream catcher for her 10th birthday, saying it was made especially for her by a genuine Lanape Healer. All lies, Valentine knew, it had actually come from the back of a travelling salesmen's cart, but she couldn't be bothered to complain.
Unfortunately since she had hung it over her bed, Valentine's nights hadn't got any easier, in fact quite the contrary.
It was bedtime for Valentine and her younger brother Erin. This was absolutely unfair in Valentine's eyes, her sister was only just 13 but she got to stay up a whole hour later, where was the logic in that? It wasn'
A reason to stayI have just moved in to my new apartment, there aren't many other residents and I had only met one or two other people as I was moving boxes in from the van. My room is now just a mess of boxes each one labelled with their destination room and contents; I can't be bothered to unpack. The rain has started to come down pretty hard so I had to rushed the last few boxes, only bothering to unpack 'kitchen- kettle, tea, cups, cutlery, etc.'
And I'm now sitting in the window nursing a cup of fresh tea and watching the rain splatter the glass an inch from my nose.
It's pitch black outside apart from where the street lamps spill liquid yellow in to the street, pooling in ovals that ripple in the puddles of rain drops.
Nothing moves apart from the constant rain that glitters in the pale light coming from the room behind me.
And then the stillness below me is broken by sudden movement that slips past the corner of my eye only lasting for a second but long enough to catch my attention, I
Chameleon eyesLike molten lava
spilling from the abyss of his mind
sparks fling as he looks around
Taking in everything around him
consuming life itself
digesting it in that inferno
he operates as a mind
and then erupting with all the new
information he has gained
forming words like fireworks
and hummingbirds wings.
Then they are liquid silver
mercury and rivers of fresh melt water
tears like beads of moonlight
encompassing every emotion
in their fall to earth
blessing the air they fall through
calming the inferno, cooling its fires
letting mere mortals such as I
approach - but still only look
for now it is frozen, deadly
and now he looks into mine
my dull earthy green and browns
and stops crying, for in mine he can see
the life that he could never create in his own
and he learns from mine, taking on the green
and filling the cold with vines and leaves and
soft brown earth that warms the air and feeds
the new life that blooms in this new found
even ground. His flame and ice [his extremes]
Paper DreamsShe wishes to be that picture
ripped neatly from the pages
of that magazine.
The one she just taped up
on top of all those others
each one, perfect.
But that's not it
she doesn't seek their perfection
their beautiful skin or glossy hair.
She has spent years collecting them
lining her bedroom walls with their
Photo-shop smiles and glistening eyes.
She hides herself away with them
half believing that if she spends her life
surrounded by them and only them
not going out, not eating anything
never leaving her sanctum of paper
then one day she can finally
achieve what it is she sought
not their perfection
paper thin, curves and skinny bones
not bracing against heavy flesh
but the subtle under-wiring of tanned silk
Her paper dreams
torn from beauty magazines
Stunning, loved like each of the models
Skinny, thin like each page taped to her walls
MaskShe wears a mask like it’s nothing.
Sometimes I forget it was made by demons.
I forget there’s a person living behind it.
Raspy Hill"I don't quite feel like myself."
I haven't for a while now.
My mind seems displaced,
Like it's wandered too far away.
"I've been having strange dreams lately."
Images of strange creatures dance in my sleep.
I don't know them but I know they are malicious.
What do they want?
"But now you're here and I'll make you feel right at home."
My saviour, my protector.
You'll guard me from this evil.
"Welcome to Raspy Hill."
This is my hell.
And you'll join me.
I'll make sure of it.
"Enjoy your stay."
Roses and barbed wireThe beauty of the roses
Right there for me to see
So colorful and vibrant
A sight to behold
But I can't get any closer
A fence surrounds them
Keeping them safe
Keeping me away
Away from their colors
Away from their scent
Trapped in this grey world of mine
Behind the barbed wire fence
Where Lover's Dream DarklyFor it is not a fable; — that which bleeds..
And her soul may whisper obsidian,
— But I am the sea of Darkness she craves
O’ long I hath bathed in these ravenous winds,
Watching shadows weep across river’s dreary
Upon nightscapes that plunder our souls —
A bouquet of crimson shall enchant thy lips;
Where slowly we fade into requiem
Drink me naked in the abyss of hungry wolves
Among demons and insanity, I thrust and fall
Ravaged, eons of lust spill from mine eyes,
And behold the Forests sing of murder!
In a sombre kiss, we shall undress the skies
Time will yield to the treasures of melancholy
I covet thee, unto this blood-filled Moon
O’ thou art beautiful decay upon my skin,
A ghostly visage dripping wanton & darkly ..
We are Lover’s haunting deaths lullaby;
Assassins brooding in a bewailing fairy-tale
She is mystic poison; & elixir immortale
Seek you me, in the mystique of necromancy
For I am the dream of Serpents fea
Sweet darknessDarkness, my dear
Darkness, my element
With your cold embrace
And keep me hidden
Hiden from the world
Hidden from my past
You are my ally
You are my friend
The only one I can trust
Vanquish the light
And cast your shadow
All over this world
the taste of your tongue
the warmth of your hand
the empty promises
the harm you've done
and i remember
to burn every trace
that remains with me.
Time As It IsAnd I asked Time how it was on this glorious Monday. It simply replied:
"I am here for you now, but I will not wait for you.
Even if you fall behind, I remain in your field of view.
You can keep up with me, but you cannot catch up to me.
For once I have left, I am gone for eternity.
Nor can you leave me behind, or go back to change me.
For I am the keeper of aging, no matter how thick the tree.
Therefore, I plea to thee:
Do your work now, get it done, and then return to me
when the time is right.
For I will accept you, take you in, and guide into
the brightest light.
Then, and only then, I will call you friend.
One that truly has stayed completely to the end."
Harmonious DiscordShe dreams
of making music
but it's not music at all.
There is no melody,
no rhythm to her song.
Just the repetition
of the same-
As if the orchestra is
tuning their instruments.
Waiting for the tap of the baton
to bring the mess to order.
hopes that the maestro never arrives.
She loves to loose herself in the fuzzy-buzzing
twanging confusion of it all
The busy white noise
that fills her ears like cotton wool
She knows she could mend it
with the snap of fingers
[bring the rhythm back]
the tap of a foot
[give it a bass line]
the rhythmic clapping
[Make a beat for it to follow]
Start something bigger
than anything previously experienced
In this small static word of
TV snow storms and dial tones
Of broken space filled with
empty frames and fogged up lenses
But she won't.
For this is her harmonious discord
filling the darkness in her head
Keep in Touch!
Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More