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Heavy IronIt's heavy, this necessary chain
About my neck,
The cold, un-yielding iron that slowly
Wore me to the bone
And left me stooped.
But you mustn't take my chain from me.
It's holding me together,
Don'tPay no attention,
To the man behind the curtain.
You never bothered to before.
Pay no attention
To the pain behind the smile.
It never bothered you before.
Pay no attention
To the face behind the mask.
He doesnt want it,
Didn't want for it before.
Do not weep for me,
There is nothing due your tears.
Mine, I spent
To pay my debt.
Now I'm saving for a rainy day.
The QuestionI must have sat here hours. It was light when I settled onto the bed, sketch pad in hand, headphones blaring. Now its dark and the music has stopped. I didn't even notice.
It's bitterly cold but I cant bring myself to move, to reach out for the jumper beside my bed or even to crawl under the covers. I just sit. Un-moving. Un-caring now. I don't know why.
It's as if, having stayed in this position so long- legs crossed, shoulders hunched protectively over the page- I have forgotten how to move. Maybe, if I wait long enough, I'll fall asleep.
I can hear my breath, slow and calm, but it feels removed from me, as though its someone else's breath and not my own. My legs went numb some time ago and I really should stretch out, rub some life back into them, warm up. I don't.
I'm still holding the pencil, 3b, my favourite, I like the soft grainy lines it makes, but it hasn't touched the page again. Not since I scratched out those three words. They stare back at me from the crisp white page now
revenantFrom the rot
A flower blooms.
Pale pink and paper thin
It gives itself entirely
And asks nothing in return.
When winters cruel frosts come
The flower trembles,
But she will not stay hidden long.
From the rot
She springs again.
lost namesIf I were no more,
If I ceased to be
and faded from existence,
would I become but a passing thought?
Would you remember
or would I slip away?
and left to wander
as a name on your tongue,
beyond your reach,
forever running to catch up,
and never gaining enough ground.
I loved you once,
and in death I love you still.
But as I fade I slip your mind,
you forget my face,
and you dismiss the thought
as merely a dream.
I am blindI am blind
Because I made it so.
I veiled my eyes with wishes cast on Dandelion smoke
And turned my back on the embers left behind.
Let them smoulder as I walked in darkness,
Back into the arms of the demon
I thought I cast aside so long ago,
But who's creeping fingers bring comfort now,
Even as they drag me into drowning.
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