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Son of a Cannon BallI’m just the son of a cannon ball, hard and heavy,
blacker than any snow white dove. Cold to the touch,
my blunt metallic skin siphons heat away through your fingertips,
leaving your hands cold and clammy, but that’s not important
because you probably only touch me with gloves on anyway.
And I know I’m dull to look at, but if you take me out under the sun
and look hard enough, you’ll see a glimmer of sunshine in my eyes.
I was born in a furnace, in the middle of heat and flame, hammers
and all the hard and heavy things in life, pounding my brothers
on the anvils and pouring out my sisters into molds,
each of them their own tool, implements of sturdy metalwork.
I went out the front door with warlike aspirations
but I never thought about the cost of that, the price
that so many men must pay just for a few brief seconds
of a cannon ball in flight.
I’m just the son of a cannon ball, and my father
and I never talked much. He was just as hard and dull as I am,
Summer WindA weary tire swings from a tree in the warm, evening breeze.
The wind blows through it with ease.
The gust meanders around the log pile,
in these summer months,
and turns to wrap around a tree
that perhaps you and me
And following the August air,
through the yard and all the youngsters there,
we find enough soul
in all these summer days
to buff away the mundane glaze
and climb out of the City's hole
to bathe in the fresh sunshine.
A weary man stands by a tree in the warm, evening breeze.
The wind blows through him with ease.
The cool croon of a slow sax
the radio speaker on my desk,
the platinum blonde said as she entered in
"Please allow me to apologize
couldn't make it to the funeral."
begins to tear up, shimmers like broken glass.
"It's alright, did you see the file?"
"I want to solve this even if
Her voluptuous locks bounced with a casual determination.
After a pause, I looked her square
shards of an iris, carefully speaking
my words like a wild gambler.
"Mrs. Simmons, I have to tell you
that killed your husband, shot him in the head,
The saxophone harmonizes with her eyes.
Communion of Two TonguesTwo tongues speak and slither words,
magnificent in quickened speech.
The journey of their thoughts is heard,
the meeting of the minds of each.
The tongues that dream of stars and skies
beyond our gloomy human view.
But tongues cannot see like the eyes,
that give form and shape to me and you.
The tongues give form and shape to thoughts
which eyes alone can never see.
Their loud, blind sight sees farther out
than men are ever allowed to be.
Thus, two tongues shall here begin,
unraveling their ambling thoughts,
and as they kiss, expose their dreams
beholden in their juicy mouths.
(Loving a) ToothbrushAlas, the gaping maw is opened wide,
to let my dearest love, Toothbrush, inside.
She cleans me up and makes me pearly white,
restoring all my beauty in her sight.
The bristles scrub and scrape with all their rigor,
and thus rejuvenate my ivory vigor.
Now I may shine with alabaster glint,
and sing to her with breath of cloying mint.
Oh, how much I do love my dear Toothbrush;
when you are brushing, sir, please do not rush.
Dream HorseDreams in open fields aren't really dreams,
they are in fact the horses of our mind.
And we are thus the lonely desperadoes,
chasing these mavericks, falling behind.
We ride across our mental desolation,
and desert winds propel our silver steeds,
the iambs in the clip-clop of the hooves;
this poetry sounds better than it reads.
As we, the dreamers, lost in stallion smoke
at last give in, and bid fancies farewell,
we must awake, we must record the journey.
Our heads are full of dreams ready to tell.
Rainy Day TrafficIt's a wet, oily, cold, pastel-gray-blue day. The sky looks like the ceiling of a pub, with low-hanging cigar smoke choking out the sunlight. The puddles on the ground appear like old, dirty, murky, muddy whiskey, and are about as appetizing. With a tired labor, cars and trucks trudge down the slippery city streets, racing through water to slide and splash the imaginary passers-by on the side of the road.
As I sit in class, the lecture obscured by the noise of the earth revolving, I am present for that from which I am removed. The soft bustle of vehicles, the gentle choke and cough of gasoline engines thundering down the road. I am moving with them.
But as the weary drivers watch the green light yellow, and the yellow light redden, their sluggish feet depress the brake pedal, and their mammoth motion halts at the stoplight. And it is now, while these cars are stopped and the others go, that the drivers observe motion without experiencing motion. They witness the bittersweet sensation o
Life is a VaporIt has been said by some, "Life is a vapor,"
and true enough, their lives have blown away,
been carried off by wind, gust, gale and weather.
Their work was not heavy enough to stay.
Some men are small, and thus live their small lives
secluded in some small forsaken town,
and all in all, live in this world deprived
of any chance to garner some renown.
They work their 9-to-5, then they come home
and have their evening meal with family,
and, sipping through the amber beer-mug foam,
resign to kick up feet and watch TV.
They live, they die, their children do as well,
trudging on toward that same grey fate.
The Preacher won't admit they've gone to Hell,
but no one says they passed the Pearly Gate.
These men are not the men that we adore,
the glorious of whom our History boasts.
They leave us hungry, wanting something more
than the ordinary meal befitting most.
The Human Soul demands, by God's Design,
the satisfaction of a life lived well,
a legacy that's worth leaving behind,
a story that is
the truth about growing up
1. It's easier when you don't think.
1. It starts early,
on a cloudy day when you recall
the 'childhood memories' of
two summers ago,
that's when you start your backslide into
2. On the bright side
you won't notice this until you're
good and ripe in age,
so maybe it doesn't matter
3. That tightness in your chest?
The feeling that you're not ready
to take on the rest of your life; it
4. It stews in the pit of your stomach
makes you doubt,
but there will be days when you look back
on the mountains you climbed -
the raging rivers you crossed -
and you'll have a sneaking suspicion you were
more prepared than you thought.
5. There's nothing like your own bed.
6. Laundry will never smell right
without mom's sweat and tears.
But you still have to separate lights from darks,
keep the zippers pulled tight
and the buttons unhooked.
7. There is comfort in your parents' presence.
8. Things change
the future gnaws and rips
STALKERYou cannot run from your past...
No strangled whisper,
No repentant plea of yours can escape these eyes.
For I have always been watching...
You believe yourself to be righteous,
But your actions have consequences!
You will not leave this place tonight,
Not while your heart remains beating.
And when you are worn from your escape;
When you are forced by exhaustion,
To shut those fevered eyes.
In your moment of weakness, I will arrive...
Justice will be served tonight,
Whilst the shadows dance with expectant glee!
You may forget what you have done,
But you will never be innocent...
Stranger's funeralUnder the clouds
Under the rain
Staring at the coffin
At a stranger's funeral
We're all alone
Feeling the storm
But not the pain
For he's but a stranger
And the graves around us
Are just there
Keeping us company
During this empty moment
CarolineYou loved the fire
of rogues -
imperfect men who shot up
the endings of the day
and drank down
too much beauty.
And like one of them,
you bellied with rebellion,
felt his tense seed
toil where women
and craved his notoriety.
Poor girl -
his verses won the day
and the call of words
was too fickle a lover
for any constant star.
Don't blame yourself -
are more attractive
and all poets are
LullabyHush, my baby,
Be still, don't cry.
Lay with me
A little while.
Close your eyes,
Slow your breath.
Hear your heart
Inside your chest?
Your heart is strong,
It guides you well.
Be sure to listen
To what it tells.
I hear him now,
Outside the room.
It won't be long,
He'll find us soon.
Now close your eyes,
Slow your breath,
And rest your head
Upon my chest.
AliveA ray of hope shines during the
Long restless hours
I keep enduring the task of
Vanquishing the darkness with the
Energy from the depths of my soul
WishCardLet the rays of the sun
Bring happiness and light into your house,
Let the sun bring you lovely gifts.
Let your heart's music free,
Let your smile to light up your face.
I wish you happiness and joy.
things to tell you before i leave for collegeto mrs hatcher:
i promise that one day i will write that poem you asked me for
(the only thing you ever asked me for)
and i will finally tell you that you deserve
so much more.
to mr. walker:
i promise that i will not pity you.
i promise that i will not envy you.
i promise that you will always be part of my forget-me-nots and marigolds.
i promise to always be grateful.
i promise to be careful.
i promise to be crazy.
i promise that i will remember what it feels like to be needed
and what it feels like to let someone who needs you down.
i promise that i will never resent you for asking for help
and that i will always be there when you do.
i promise that even sixty years from now,
i will not be surprised to find a letter from you in my mailbox.
i promise to always remember what it felt like to be young and crazy with you,
how scared and lonely we were.
i will remember that we both survived it,
and that we'll survive this, too.
BloodBlood is the essence of the heart,
and Music is the wound.
Blood is the essence of our life,
stored in our heart,
pierced by the song.
And it is pain that frees our blood
to bleed and drip and run,
to live outside the confinement of our hearts,
and to stain the garments of our world.
Music is the pain that frees our lives to bleed.
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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