[x]

Angles of Neutrality

* * *
You have to be careful here. It's easy to fall in love with anyone if you watch them closely enough. Concentrate on the patterns, so you can learn to anticipate, but never contemplate motive. Motive is the easiest way to put yourself out of the game.
* * *

"I need you for this," he said. "I won't trust anyone else with my name."
"I thought you were out, Jarris. Handling personal security now."
"I am," he said. "This comes straight from my new job and that's why I need you. I can't get stuck running this time."
Jarris was a large man, 6' 8", with a rapid charm and steady composure. I kept him aroun

Thoughts

In the months that I've spent on deviantART, I've met numerous people of all ages and from all walks of life, joined together as a community by a single entity: the love of and for art. It didn't matter whether one was into poetry, wallpapers, 3D abstract images, prose, indyart or freehand; what mattered was the love shared for works that spilled forth from heart, soul and mind.
Many times have I sat in front of my computer screen and cried for no other reason except for the fact that I was, clichéd as it may sound, moved to tears. Some works I understood more than others, and this was because deviantART not only allowed us to share our work

tears in Hokkaidocherry blossom petals rain
from the sky

she lost her lover
in spring and summer
come autumn
and winter
she sits
on a bench

the winds console her-
trying to catch her tears
but they drop a mark
on her brightly-colored kimono

come autumn and winter
she would not feel it
she already knows it
like the tears
that leave their mark
on her kimono,
on a bench,

on her heart

in Hokkaido...

tasogareLurid dreaming,
Cast upon cinnamon swirled
Featureless dusk
Afterglow of an ember robust
Drapes softly
The twilight indigo
Into quiet nooks
Of velvet memory
As pizzicato bursts of static
Intermesh the Philomel
To mark with punctuation
A metronomes progression
The soft lit cascading
Celestial illumination
An ivory comb rests
In the shimmering
Ebony tresses
Of a lover returned.

1000 Words - Summerdies

Out over the somber sway
Sourced in myriad shades,
Of ghosting green
Faded in gray skies,
I gaze through
Late summer wind on a gentle sea
Broken on granite shores,
Seemingly eternal
To my shadowed eyes,
Back beneath the wilting eaves
Yearning to entertain
Memories of sunlit smiles
Created by forgotten words
Lost in the broken laughter,
Of my rocking chair
Worrying this old porch,
With ashen hues
That always escaped my notice.
Until I saw your chair...

Without you there.

Like Father-Like Son

I am Melancholy Madness, bruised upon the shadows of your fist.
Hold me down and punish me for all these made up trespasses I've committed.
Tell me not to be so weak as I cry myself to sleep.

I am Shattered double paned glass pulled one by one out of my back.
Shove me through closed doors, windows.
Tell me I deserve each minute of each impact.

I am Demolished Self Esteem, you taught me well.
Crush me under your tongue, with each syllable of your breath.
Tell me I'm ugly, who could love me, not you.

I am Your Daughter, Your Sister, discarded to the floor by your arms.
Break me beyond repair, use me as your catharsis while

Everybody One Race

Everybody One Race

When I look out at the people
I see the reality of this world
We construct walls of brick, create borders of nations
We label everything, and put everything in its place
Our differences have pushed us apart
But our differences can pull us together

So just how differently would you treat me
If I was not me at all?
If I was more than this phantom's shadow behind this computer screen?
If I was your mother?
Or a father at 15?

If my business card said abortionist
Would you criticize and demean,
Forcing your moral code upon me
If I had I child in my womb?
If I was a woman in bloom?

If you were a chameleon
Would

How Cliche

How cliche am I
Sitting outside
At a beatnik Coffeehaus
On the Northwest side
Clothes all of black
Smoking my lights
Writing a poem
On the meaning of life
How cliche is that?
how cliche am I?

I have Nietzsche himself
Sitting at my side
Reading the "weekly"
Striped suit-no tie
Red Scarf 'round his neck
Dark look in his eye
How cliche is he?
How cliche am I?

How cliche are we
to bicker the whys
of the soul
of the mind
of who's more divine?
Of our own petty egos
written in the sky?
How cliche are we?
How cliche am I?

Individuality
Dies with these lines
In the foam of my latte,
The closed door of your mind
How clic

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More from `spunj13

help in our destruction

help in our destruction

verse 1:

there's a thousand dead-beat dad down on the corner all marching to the baet of differrent drummers. we don't care enough to stop them while we picket anti-abortion clinics, shouting "kill them anyways....it's just one less mouth to feed."go ahead, scream "liberty" while you join the masses and run off to fight the big bad eastern monster with your guns and your war. whatever happened to the homefront. a beast feasting on destruction, becoming powerhungry while babies die in Africa and no one notices. we can't see beyond our faces, stuck in the mire of our own self-evaluation. throw our hands up to the sk

my heart-

my heart

you took my heart when you left

you didn't know that you held it
but it travels with you
silent
pliable to your words
and at night i think
of my heart
and i dream of you
and hold these memories
fleeting moments
for two

so hold onto my heart
just like you held my hand
and think of me
as i dream of you

november 26, 2001
1:52 am

memory motion pictures

memory motion pictures

these memory motion pictures
that play incessently in my mind
winding
twisting
in my waking dreams
as i try to find sleep
grainy snapshots
of boys on beaches
in the cold
with plastic cameras in hand
and sand between their toes
moments captured forever in my brain
of camping trips
and rain overflows
into tents with no zippers
slow motion reminders
stolen kisses
dark nights
and long walks in the cold
conversations that led to nothing
but absolution
and petty talk that changed who we are
freeze frame the graduations
the birthdays
the christmases surrounded by family
while i search for rest

a contradiction

a contradiction

we celebrate our freedom
with the blood of a nation staining our hands
bowing heads to give thanks
for the things
we are taking from them
our abundance grows
while what little they have is destroyed
loosen our belts
and lay back in our easy-chairs
don't think of them
running
from the falling bombs
they have nothing to celebrate
yet
we,
in our indifference
raise our fists
and cheer on the army
as they turn a nation to rubble

"this is war"
you cry
but what do you know of war?
you
surrounded by family
well-fed
happy
stagnant and secure
your petty troubles meaning nothing
to the homeless man
w

in dreams - part ii

in dreams - part ii

sometimes,
i wish
life were more like day-dreams
a part of my reality
i suppose
with you so far away
i could cope with the loneliness
growing steadily
with every passing hour
just to think of you
and you are here
to think of you
in my arms
and you appear

november 22, 2001
2:15 am

sometimes-

sometimes

sometimes she sits by the window
tears shining in her eyes
waiting
wanting
but no man is perfect
her scarred heart bearing witness to her pain
and she wears the smile
to hold back the sorrow
the years of brokeness
the decades of fear

sometimes she walks in the garden
the light reflecting in her eyes
wishing
praying
for an end to this monotony
but her torn heart will not let her go
and she wears the ring
in spite of her hatred
this binding sentence
that she cannot escape

sometimes she waits by the window
the loneliness darkening her eyes
sighing
sleeping
waiting for the end
her heart bearing the signs

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the sound of footsteps

by `spunj13, Aug 13, 2002, 12:16:31 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

.

the sound of footsteps

i have memorized the sound
       clipclip
       tap-tip
       clopbang
of my step upon the stair

and it sounds nothing like yours

the graceful
       tap-tap
ping of heels
hidden beneath earth flowing dress
which betrays your figure (so well)
       and causes my step to stutter

the light and ghostly
       brush-swish
ing of bare feet
       as your cross the floor to meet me
each step
       closer
each moment deeper

__

your sandals make a
       step-slap
ping sound as you pack your bags
your suitcases of sighs
       and boxes of memories
leaving me
       with only echose
and the sound of my footsteps
       meeting yours
             upon the stair

august 12, 2002
4:22 pm

the sound of footstepsby `spunj13

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

this was inspired by the sound of me running up and down the steps of my home library (i mean..in my home town) as i searched for good poetry books (go figure...they're hard to find sometimes)... anyways...i got this sort of story in my head (not unlike dashboard's screaming infidelities) and wrote this down... hope that it comes across right...

//spunj13

p.s. it's fiction... for anybody who was wondering...

Daily Deviation

Given 2002-08-14

We grow too used to thinking of the world as a collection of sights; sometimes our other senses paint things more keenly. the sound of footsteps by spunj13 is a perfect example of how sound, in this case, can be just as powerful as any image could be. [sent by deejbard ] (Selected by +skyorange) ( Featured by `skyOrange )

~afraidoffear Nov 24, 2002 Writer

awesome poem dude i have to fav this

`cooper Sep 14, 2002

congrats on the DD, well deserved, a beautiful piece... :O (Eek)

~attitude2k Sep 6, 2002 Photographer

juss re-read this poem, I commented and added to favs when u got the dp (which was well deserved), I was just r-reading it now.
the uniqueness got me at first but then I got the sound of your words and it made ti that much more special.
once again I commemorate you on one of the best poems here on da!
congrats!

~tobie Aug 23, 2002 Hobbyist General Artist

i
am
stunned
amazed

and merely
at awe

write more
please?

~selene Aug 22, 2002

awesome piece...i am all about the visual effect of this one

°jsenn Aug 15, 2002

Absolutely lovely and gently seductive, I like the whole scene you painted with your words and the mood is wonderful.

~breid Aug 15, 2002 Professional Artist

Heh heh. Spunj rocks the DP.

~brooke Aug 15, 2002

the poem is really good, but you know that. i really like the picture. its something different. amazing work!

`tmpst24myst Aug 15, 2002 Student Writer

i don't even know what to say here. you will have to excuse me while i pick my jaw up and jump start my heart..

there are so many things i could point out that are laughing at perfection while it tries to compete with this. the style and form are that of powerful definition to the emotions and meaning and the feeling you left me with at the end...i felt there should have been more, only out of my own greed to have reached the ending of a magnificant trip.. but maybe i feel as he did, he wanted more, he didn't want it to just stop....
......frustrating isn't it?

i could go on for ever raving how good this really is but as it is, i am rambling.

Heart

~pwca Aug 15, 2002

BraV
O!!

it's true, you forget what your so used to hearing...
I'm glad you got the idea dahling!! You portrayed it well!!!
Beautiful!!

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the sound of footsteps

the sound of footstepsby `spunj13

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