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Bear Jake and RockyThe soft sounds of snoring bounce off the living room walls, though they were not very loud they seem to hide the sounds of padded footsteps across the wooden floors every once in a while the footsteps stop when the snores became soft whimpering woofs as the sleeping giant called Bear slept under the cover of the old pine coffee table his refuge from the much younger members of his family, also known as Jake the terrible and Rickety Rocky. Jake brown eyes stared hard at his prey the big lug of a dog called Bear, Bear wasn't doing anything but sleep then again all Bear did do was sleep. The old dog slept on as he woofs out a warning in his sleep knowing from daily attacks that one of the younger dogs would most likely be lurking about. True to his nature Jake the younger pup though he was now closely to Bear in height though not in size. Was snickering as he reaches the edge of the old rug, crouching down on his belly, Jake slowly crawls towards the massive brown furry beast s
where have you gone?where have you gone?
now your a memory, once you were a song
we use to talk long into the day
then you turn your back and just walk away
where have you gone?
what did I do? was it so very wrong?
we use to know when each other was down
now our lips are forever stich into a frown
where have you gone?
it's been so, so, so very long
my heart it breaks
when was it last we did speak?
where have you gone?
this pain is so huge like it's King Kong
I miss you and I wish I knew
do you really miss me too?
The Old Neighbourhoodthe sounds of the old rusty porch swing, groaning out
sends a chills down the sidewalk spines, of the old neighbourhood
darken abandon houses, with broken tooth windows grins
are standing guard, holding the night at bay
as bony twisted trees fingers rake the black skies
soon a small wind blows in, racing down the street sending porch swings a swaying
their creaking and groaning, like ghosts when their moaning
while over head an old barn owl cries
death lingers near, but its now a place without fear
for by now everyone has died
laying down dead beneath the even skies
Come Meet Mecome meet me at the corner of yesterday and tomorrow
where past meets yet to be
as times of long ago, dances with times, we yet to see
come, come along with me
towards the new, away from the old
where birthing suckles, into dying's folds
come see our first breathe of air, as it dies into our last
come behold our beginning, until we witness our ending atlas
Mr. Robin Williams He was our knight in shining armour
His armor stronger then steel, form from his gift to make us all laugh
He built walls around himself, out of the many faces of who he is and was
His shield thicken with each and every voice he spoken to us through
His sword sharpen with his wit and humour
He has slayed many of our own demons with echoes of laughter
Yet he could not slay the darkness that hidden deeply inside him
His own demons guarded well by his own armor, walls and shield
Until the day he could no longer fight it and turn his own Sword upon this demon that dwelled inside...........
R.I.P Mr. Robin Williams Thank you for the Laughter and the Light you gave us all....
RainBlue skies dying turning into shades of grey
Water falling in showers of cold wet sprays
Grounds growing damper as sands becomes mud
Roads slippery while driving, making for a deadly and dangerous trip
Cold in the winter, warm and refreshing in the sun
One brings happiness, the other leaves us numb
Needed for things to grow
Hated when flood water may flow
Life is but a DreamWe are just unnourished frail bodies,
overfed with white lies and short-lived-euphorias.
Books filled with black letters,
etching lurid images into our utmost dreams.
Veering us from the big picture...
the one we fail to paint ourselves.
Our fists much too busy with fights,
that we are bound to lose.
Too occupied in line waiting,
for creativity to be let loose like a stray dog.
As if we will find home in this pursuit of happiness...
but we only enclose each other in small rooms
with nothing but old laptops.
How many times I've guessed which letter could it be...
Which letter could it be?
To free us from havoc-stricken-thoughts?
They come and go, unending like 24 hour subway stations.
There's no break for this lonely man,
heaving every breathe of stale air
into my overused lungs...
Living in confined walls of flesh
held up with brittle paper-mache bones.
Which day is it that I will burst out from this cage of a life?
And hover with the Gods found in carefully binded bo
MercyOh sweet God how the grassland
ignites in moonlight tonight
I must thank you for creating
her tangled fingers' slow pace
through the handsome rain Her
trochaic kinesthesia to rhythms
in Stravinsky's The Rite of
Spring Is this how you meant
for us to love you Yahweh
Tumbling clumsily down hills
of sheets into perpetually
immutable silence I could love
you like that I think I've been
practicing on this Savanna
for days and months Lost in
her crystal canvas Rolling crests
and troughs And when she touches
me Oh fair Lord I'm dragged into
your city past Gethsemane's
pulsing green and gold
Please hold us together
under this luminous stretch
Oh Father We are live
unclothed Our reflections awash
with the skin of your sun
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More