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I held tightly onto the large man's shirt sleeve as we waited for the bus. Between him and my cane, my legs still had trouble keeping me up. It was around noon and I was getting more and more anxious, which didn't help my legs hold me up any.
"Do you need any protein, Eamon?" Kofi asked me.
I clutched harder on his shirt-sleeve, losing balance for a second, "N-no, I'm g-good. Just a little n-nervous."
Kofi was a good man. My father told me he came to America from Kenya, but I always assumed he was from Jamaica because of his accent. When he pronounces my name, it sounds like he's saying "hey mon" rather than Eamon. Kofi has been my aid for about three years now. Since he is close friends with my father, he accepts little pay and only asks for food and shelter otherwise. He has become my best and only friend in the time he's been my assistant.
I heard the bus coming from down the block, but it still made me jolt when it stopped in front of us, letting out a loud squeak as it opened the
It was obvious at first. For weeks people became more and more superstitious at each passing sign. The first week a white owl landed on the Hero's Statue in the center of the small village every day at noon and stayed for an hour before taking off. Many villagers ignored this for the most part, but the elders of the town became nervous at its constant appearance. The villagers were given Sunday to rest before the next omen came.
On the second week, when the clock struck midnight every night, a piercing howl awoke every villager from their slumber. The howl lasted only a minute and stopped suddenly. After the third day a pack of hunters was gathered and sent out to kill the wolf so the village could return to their sleep. They returned empty handed, but they went every day to try to find the nuisance. They were then given peace again on Sunday. So began the new week.
On the third week, a cypress tree appeared in the backyard of Town Hall. The elders pleaded for it to be cut down immedia
Let Old Grandpa tell you a story, young lad and lassie. A story of many mysteries and many horrors. A true story of a young man who did not listen to his mother and her wise words. Let me call this young man Red. Off of the hood he wore, of course! Back in the Nineteen Nineties a young man was asked by his mother to bring medicine and spare food to his sick and frail grandmother who lived in the woods. He set out with joy to be able to help his grandmother, whom he loved so very dearly. He was to stay on the path, that was his only rule, for there were wolves and bears and wild cats in the woods that could kill him in seconds! Not only that, but there were rumors around that the woods were haunted, and the spirits of these woods would torment any who wander on their grounds. This frightened Red a bit, but he swallowed his fear and started his journey down the beaten path
Red walked out of his apartment with his favorite tape playing in his ears, his favorite red hoodie over
The drive to the camp grounds was a long one. Two hours if traffic was good. I stare out the window as my headphones blast All That Remains in my ear. Something jabs me sharply on the shoulder. I paused my music and look at the person behind me who then points at the driver.
"First time camping, son?" The driver, our Troop leader asks.
"Yeah, Mum says it'd be good for me," I reply.
"Well, no MP3 players out there," He teased.
I smiled, "Yeah, yeah."
He chuckled and didn't reply again, so I started my music back up. "For you never shut your eye/ 'til the sun is in the sky "
What the fuck? I looked at the screen, which said "All That Remains Keepers of Fellow Man 2:33/3:11". I pressed play again and ATR blasted in my ears. God damn malfunction must have been from a song I never listen to
"Okay," Scout Leader said, "All set up."
Our group consisted of two adults and ten boys. The leader and his helper assigned us in groups of twos. I got an experienced Scout named
Goodbye, Old Friend
Going home, excited about a new puppy
So small and adorable, the runt of the litter
"Let's name him Butch!" Mother suggested
And that you became.
The adorable moments when raising you
Aside from the annoyance of cleaning
"He's going to be my buddy!"
And that you were
I am thankful
For those moments of sadness
When you would walk up and cuddle
"Thank you, Butchie"
And you stayed with me
Coming downstairs in the morning
You would wag your tail in excitement
"Good morning, Butcher"
And it was heartwarming
Being around you less and less
Especially when you needed me most
"Do you miss Zech, buddy?"
And you did
For the first time in many years
When you stumbled inside and collapsed
"It's okay, Butchie, we're trying"
And you hung on
When the veterinarian told us the news
That you may never walk again
"The surgery is too much" mother said
But we did it all for you
When you came home from
Dream a Reachunsilence the words
that your tongue
can't find or form
sing something new
sing an angel's wing
from tongue to sky
shake the undone and fly
like a dead jesus
i speak in tongues
less true than infinite
we dream unguided
the eras and acts
that we hold up
as our crowning
(before we can fly)
i burn another pocket
into the side of the fire
inhabitable, but captive
i put my hand in
my life in
and faith, i pound you
into every hole
and cosmic pore
between atoms and reactions
(so i can fly)
a broken sky
has dropped its fire
over eternity's shipwreck
and i sweat
alien notes, tempos
i wish and whisper
into the only air pocket
left on earth
(so it can fly)
and i'm back
within the deep again
of this heavy unbreathing
mask sewn shut
i still, and forever,
dream a reach, flight
into a safe sky
a sunrise, sunset,
(that i can remember)
quantum processself is contrivance
strip Newtonian garb
we are ghostly
neutrinos flash through
we are not
we are both
we are neither
we know not what is
we never shall
we think ourselves real
llp - dA - sep2014
INFINITELY LILITHI am not dead for I cannot die,
once Man thought I could be easily misused,
exiling me to an epilogue no longer remembered
as he blotted out my blush from staining
the Earth's chrysalis rind, if only he knew
that beneath my touch knowledge took root
and pumpkins were hollowed out into shapes
-seedless and skinless-as infinite as the mind.
I am not dead, I cannot die
for I am the memory of primevel bliss,
though blackened my skeleton still exists,
licking the Silence clean so my name can
bite more soundly, a thousand serpents hiss
from my nebula center, welcoming to me
my children who bring the blood that feeds
my dessicated garden, ravenously growing,
I cannot regret for I live too purely to repent
the pushing and prodding of my blossoms to be
known by the timeless exuberance of eons past,
in the Moonlight I move and speak of dark things
not really dead and the light not really blessed
without me being known first, infinitely I say
I am not dead for I cannot die.
I am Lilith.
Friend of EternityFriends here and friends there
Forever and ever.
Friends come and go
And friends leave and stay.
To the ones with loneliness in the halls of their hearts
A message greater than any political speech will rock the nation.
All hands and knees shall hear the praise of praises
And to the nation, praises will light up the world of the nation.
To the ones with hopelessness and to the ones who sink in the sand
Will hear the hope and the love of all nations.
The message to the nation that is in dire need of hearing hope
Will hear even my praise soar over the mountains to the oceans.
No matter who you are
No matter where you have been
No matter what you look like
There is a love greater than any love and brings nations to their knees.
A love that makes beating hears roar like lions
And a love that calls out the kings of all nations.
A love that is greater than any love
And will sing through the ages till the day comes.
Sinners of all nations; your hearts bow before the one who did it all
Now, BecauseNow is the time to be tough.
Even though you don't want to be,
even though you'd rather just weep.
Now is the time to be strong.
Even though everything in you cries,
screams against it.
Now is the time to be happy.
Even though all you care about is fading,
falling rapidly into the background.
Because weeping does nobody good.
Not even you.
Because faltering only hurts you.
Not even screams help.
Because happiness is the glue
that is holding you
that is keeping you
from bursting apart at the seams.
Because even though everything, everything
Is falling away and is meaningless,
("Meaningless! Meaningless!" cries the Teacher)
You still need to ignore your grief
Keep moving and
It'll be fine.
Now is the time to be tough.
Even though it's so hard,
the hardest thing you've ever done.
Now is the time to be strong.
Even though yo
In the WoodsIn the woods my spirit wanders
it goes where now my feet shall follow
the trees, they speak with silent tongues
where wind will pass through every branch
my eyes alight with newfound life
I know this is my lasting home
the ground beneath receives me warmly
soft-spun soil has kissed my feet
the air around has touched me deeply
soaking in my every pore
the birds are singing in the trees
with peeping frogs drawn up and down
the waters of the streams are murm’ring
the distance now is not so far
and what is near is father still
the world it breathes in through the roots
where my soul is rising to
digging deep in untold heights
my spirit wanders with the breeze
here is where my people lived
where they fought and drank and built and died
the forest is our endless home
whence our finest tribes did hail
fare we well to come back home now
to bring soft flesh to bare
bear it out along the way
softest skin on rough hewn bark
the palm may breathe in with the wood
and out the lungs give a cath
The Lost Who WanderI find myself
at the feet of a god,
not with expectation,
praying falsely for
of divine intervention,
but out of sheer desperation,
like those who murmur
prayers to St. Jude,
within the darkness
where there is none
over the rocks
with the blind,
not counting how many
along the way,
all to hear enigmatic
from the parched
of a mad woman
with hallucinatory visions
living in a cave
which sweeps over me
in waves of nausea.
I martyr myself
for your pain,
and grieve unaccountably
for your loss,
it seers through me,
like St. Sebastian
I find myself penetrated
full of holes, bearing the marks
of a guilt which should
never have been my own.
But that dose not entirely
absolve me, there is
no escape from my own
all I can do is watch you
and wait for dead prayers
to be answered
by the indifferent
sages who devour
our fates making
bets as they attempt
Psalm of the BrokenIn Your eyes O Lord,
I have done evil.
Evil that followed me since the day I was conceived
But evil that has no power over You.
O Lord, the creator of the universe and the friend to all sinners
You have overcome ever summit of this dying land.
Every mountain, You climbed and still remain holy
Even storms bow to Your glory.
Hear my cries O God, for my bones are broken and my heart in agony.
Forgive me and turn this brokenness into a song.
To feel Your spirit flow in my as I weep
And to see You light up the atmosphere of my broken soul.
Purify my soul once more my King
And do not hide me from Your console.
I have sinned against You, but I lay them at Your throne
Just to purify my soul whiter than snow.
Give me living water to drink and bread to eat
I thirst and hunger for You.
You weep for me and weep with me, but You have the power to restore a broken soul
And You turn my brokenness into a song of Your glory.
You are the one God and the King of Kings
And there is none like You.
D-... Do you see me?
It's just an empty street...
C-... Can you hear me?
There's nobody here...
B-... But I'm right here!
Just keep your mind on the road...
N-... No... NO..NO NO NO!
It's all in your head...
P-... PLEASE! HELP ME!
It's all in your head...
Y-... You have to, PLEASE!
It's all in your head
NO! WHY CAN NOBODY HELP ME???
It's all in your head...
P-... Please sir, not many come here when I'm strong enough to stand..
It's just an empty road...
It's just an empty graveyard....
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More