I want to feel but I have no hands
I want to smell but I have no nose
I want to Taste but I have no tongue
I want to speak but I have no mouth
I want to live but I have no life
I want to see but i have no eyes
Riddles, Riddles 2Spiky brown cone
as in off of a tree
Seeding the earth
in a planting spree
Open and close
to the seasons it responds
Ghost of the future
a natural despot
Riddles, RiddlesReflective, yet clear
Holds yer best beer(sorry for the bad rhymes)
Made from coarse sand yet smooth as babies hands.
Bleeding BlueA rift in they sky,
pouring its life.
Up with the clouds,
misting their strife.
Like a sickness,
the sky takes a dreary hue.
Spilling sadness, raining hatred,
spraying madness, bleeding blue.
Sourceless RiverAlighted from where?
All I can do is stare,
at the sourceless river above.
Its shining water plays tricks on the eyes,
flitting about like a seraphic dove.
Like a shapeless dreamscape,
it goes neither left or right,
Bleeding,pouring blue, the water has taken flight.
Upon ending its watery descent,
it splashes upon the ground,
and creates a spectrum of light.
"Oh where, Sourceless river, from where did you come?"
I called to the sky.
"I come from the world, way up high."
"Can you not tell me, where is your source?"
"My source is irrelevant, but what of my course?"
With that the Sourceless River stopped its rapid flowing,
and the last trickles of the sky fountain,
and the splashes stopped their crackly crowing,
and the Sourceless River was not sourceless anymore,
for the mist lifted and it came from a mountain.
Shapeless DreamscapeShapeless mist in an endless cloud
Startling shapes and frights abound
Endless sky and shifting ground
Shapeless dreamscape all around
Leather-BoundBound in leather
Sewn in tight
Full of words
Silent as night
Heard with Eyes
Oh soundless book
What are thee
But a Leather-Bound tool to me
Random QuestionsI wonder what pigs think of cows?
When did santa come into the christmas tradition?
How many flavors of pie are there?
Why wasnt Abrasoka given full state-hood?
Why dont we still use runes as our primary form of language?
Why doesnt anybody know about Mad Cow disease? (Bovine Spongiform Encephelapothy)
How many deviantART users are there exactly?
Why doesnt anyone say 'Happy Harvest!" on Halloween?
You are More. You are more than a number, statistic or fraction,
You are more than a stranger’s glance or reaction.
You are more than a puzzle piece or a missing link,
You are more than what the world may think.
You are more than a stigma or sign which you're labeled,
You are more than “special”, diseased, different, disabled.
You are more than a whisper, you are more than a name,
You are more than rejection, you are more than other's blame.
You are more than vibrations that torture your ears,
You are more than disorder that drive you to tears.
You are more than emotion you can't read or display,
You are more than the words you’re unable to say.
You are more than your bullies who push you down,
You are more than your teachers who won’t help you off the ground.
You are more than your doctors who gave up and quit,
You are more than society would care to admit.
You are more than progress which may be slow,
You are more than accomplishments whi
And in this dark harvest of season
My life has completely lost reason,
For which or against to decide.
All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tide
In sadness and in kindness
In light and in darkness.
In a boat made of hope
I shall sail to tomorrow,
In a winding hurricane
Made of treachery and sorrow.
There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...
Piercing, slashing though my head.
Starting somewhere in heaven,
Ending somewhere in hell.
Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.
Are the armies within.
In my head they are all thrashing.
On the heaven's and hell's whim.
To be light or to be darkness.
A perpetual array.
It's not merely my choice,
But the choice of the way.
It's an option of the voice,
It's a thin line of gray.
Is it a choice forced by fate,
Is it a pre-set time and date?
Or a choice to which I myself sway?
But here's our story anyway .
"Nothing that I do will matter.
As all things will merely shatter!"
All my hopes thus darkness scatter,
As it shoves me a decree.
As it si
Is It Love?If I hugged you,
would you never let go?
If I kissed you,
would you cherish that moment?
If I reached for your hand,
would you take mine gently?
If I needed a shoulder,
would you let me cry on yours?
If I needed to talk,
would you really listen?
If I needed to scream,
would you do it with me?
If I needed to go,
would you come with me?
If I fell for you,
would you catch me?
or just let me hit the pavement?
I think of youAs suns set afar and mountains flame
And eagles, turning, turn to fire
Ash cold, alone I lie
And think of you.
Lost and...“I’m Lost.”
I say to you.
my eyes remain
locked to the ground.
I can barely
make out your feet
within the murkiness.
I’ve always been Lost.
“No, you’re not.”
You simply say to me,
as you intertwine
your fingers through mine.
You walk forward, leading me,
somehow knowing exactly
where we are going.
No, you don’t get it. I can’t leave.
There isn’t any point to this anymore.
All Hallows EveThey say that on this night the witches ride,
that spirits walk and churchyards spew their dead.
It isn’t true.
It’s said the stench of hell infects the earth
and healths of heated blood are downed.
But Hamlet lied.
The dead know nothing, the living less.
There are only poets with blood-nibbed pens;
souls hung between high heaven and deep hell.
7. heaveni find myself blinded
by the smallest
of things –
plastic rice bowls &
a negligible soft-
drink addiction –
smudged glasses lenses
too many mandarins
there are things that
act in the place of
quick fixes that work
longer than they were
ever supposed to.
my ceiling light is
broken – i use two
dimmer desk lamps instead.
the roof over my room
leaks during storms –
i lay old shower
curtains on the carpet.
and when 1am is the
only time i do not feel
silenced to a void
i pick up a pen, exhausted,
and tell myself
( this is how
it is meant
to be. )
Wasted FleshFlesh, flesh,
Such wasted flesh...
This able-bodied meat.
Defiled by drugs and impurities.
A mind born with clarity,
Yet so blatantly abused.
No harm did you suffer;
Other than harm self inflicted.
Disregarding the hopeless gazes,
Of those who were born without.
No good, no good;
This I cannot abide...
I shall take this flesh from you,
And it shall be tended and made anew.
A gift to those who are deserving,
Of the very gifts you cast aside...
Now then, my dear,
Do stop your screaming.
It will only be painful,
Until your heart stops beating.
- Word of Chen, 1/6/2016