ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Silly
We had a brief moment; we had just one,
I giggled, you laughed, we had some fun.
We were acting silly and messing around,
The noise of our laughter was a pleasant sound.
Our fun was innocent; we did no harm,
But for a moment I was captivated by you beauty and charm.
So now it is over, we each go our own way,
But I’ll never forget the little fun we had today.
Sean
We had a brief moment; we had just one,
I giggled, you laughed, we had some fun.
We were acting silly and messing around,
The noise of our laughter was a pleasant sound.
Our fun was innocent; we did no harm,
But for a moment I was captivated by you beauty and charm.
So now it is over, we each go our own way,
But I’ll never forget the little fun we had today.
Sean
Literature
6-4-14
We stay at a hotel in the middle of somewhere-nowhere, Illinois, small-town-almost-no-town-at-all. If you trek a half-mile in that direction you'll find a sort of main street. Most of the shop buildings are for rent, storefronts stand empty and dark, ceilings inside collapsed, some species of scattered lesser temples, innumerable ages ago discarded.
I walk long miles by night or day down empty railroad tracks, the tracks of passing writers, painters, engineers, coal, hydrochloric acid, freight. The rail guards riding last cars wave in passing and leave me on my way. Gravel and porous fossil-like cement rocks crunch at every step.
Peop
Literature
Lost Song
I used to think myself grand in the face of the abstract.
I thought myself a poet, a knitter of words which together would create something like music to the eyes, drumming its rhythm in time with heartbeats and telling stories of love that almost was—of heartbreak that was very real at the time, and of thoughts that then seemed profound but—looking back—are laughable.
And I missed the words. They always seemed one step (or several steps—perhaps miles) ahead of me, and I wanted to run after them, to delve into their secrets and wade in their meanings. Alas, I was not worthy then, nor now, and whether or not I can eve
Literature
Lost Enchantress
A fiery young woman comes to me at night, to haunt my dreams.
She is a finely sculpted creature, not unlike the ancient beauties of eras long since gone—proportioned of generously carved marble. Her hips swing in a fashion you might only begin to describe as unbearably sly, and enticing. As she walks into my life again—in the only way she still can—my soul aches with regret.
As she speaks, enchanting echoes form a most divine song, from the lips of a charming young siren. Her voice was as pleasing as all the rest. Oh, and what charm I had missed, from this maiden.
It's almost impossible to believe now, but she used to be mine.
So muc
Suggested Collections
Just a silly little poem, now the story behind this one is. Last week during the cool down at my circuit training, I was a little bored and did something silly (nothing great, almost slapstick) and when I looked around only one person had noticed. She looked at me and started to laugh, which set me off giggling. So I looked away trying to concentrate on what I was doing, when I looked back at her she was still smiling and giggling which only set me off again, fortunately we both managed to control ourselves (so close to failing believe you me). And every time I think of it I smile. This poem came to me the following morning at work while going around stiff (keep it clean thoughts folks), sore and grinning like a nutter, every time I remembered it. Oh did I mention she is totally gorgeous, but married (aaaahhhh life is so unfair). Enjoy folks.
© 2005 - 2024 draxx66
Comments9
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
I love it