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About Literature / Professional Senior Member Wise Old Owl31/Female/Unknown Group :iconfeature-me-weekly: Feature-Me-Weekly
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Literature
The Case Of Missing Earrings
While growing up, we had a domestic help who lived with our family. She was a Bangladeshi woman who had fled her country as a refugee and came to live with my grandmother after grandfather’s death. Her name was Sumita and I used to call her sumita pishi, as that was how I was told to address her.
Sumita pishi was a colourful personality. She liked the finer aspects of life and was full of stories from her country. She used to tell my mother and grandmother, the story of her life before she became a refugee, full of the joy and comforts that a rich village landowner has. How she fled with just two gold bangles on person as the rioters were setting fire to each and every house in the villages and killing any hindu in sight. Me, however she regaled with deliciously scary ghost stories of pisach dancing on tree tops in the marshes at night and setting them on fire. Of shakchunnis with feet which are pointed backwards and the devil himself with eyes on his shoulders, who was only scar
:icontanya3286:tanya3286
:icontanya3286:tanya3286 37 14
Literature
Moments of weakness
Baby, you make my morals loose,

looking at you, the way the move,
Baby, you make me wanna lose myself,
tangled together, messy, dishevelled;
Baby, I wanna take you home, 
get dirty in the shower, in every room,
Baby, you make me weak in my knees,
Butterflies in my stomach, head over heels;
Baby, leave your taste in my lips,
savour it, till the next time we feast.
~

:icontanya3286:tanya3286
:icontanya3286:tanya3286 3 4
Literature
Sound of the hills
Sit and close your eyes. 
The hills are alive with sounds and smells. As I listen quietly, these sounds and smells make themselves known to my senses.
The scent of wood smoke rises from someone's chimney. Deep, rich, earthy and somewhat suffocating if one is caught in the middle of it.
I hear the sound of a woodpecker, hidden from my sight but diligently pecking away at the bark of a nearby tree, probably looking for a nice juicy grub.
The sound of a noisy pickup van, snaking its way down the mountain road, out to get supplies for the week from the big city market below.
There is also the restful sound of the wind moving through the bamboo thicket, spinning the spindle like leaves around merrily and producing a calm, soft melody that acts like lullaby on a warm, sunny afternoon.
There is also the outpouring of voices floating down from the Albella Boys Home, located just above my home stay. Sometimes it is the muted sound of pupils reciting something in unison. The other night, it
:icontanya3286:tanya3286
:icontanya3286:tanya3286 0 0
Literature
City of Dreams
The last strains of the evening azan floats on the monsoon breeze. A small flock of herons are flying home overhead, cleaving the ragged skyline.
The small Kali temple nearby, begins its activity with the priest ringing the bells, accompanied by the clanging of cymbals and chanting of evening aarti verses. Soon the sound of conches rise up from a few scattered houses. Few households have or keep conches these days, let alone blow them.
Calcutta is sleepy, tired and retiring at the end of the day now. I look down from the terrace, at what used to be my grandmother's balcony. That flat is empty now. It belongs to someone else. Patiently awaiting someone to inhabit its vacant existence.
My old cat, 'buri' used to come down to the garage roof, jumping from one building to another, traversing a number of tiled roofs, along a high wall, like a skilled rope walker. She is one of the strays, whom I'd fed and cared for the longest period of time. I don't see her anymore. Sh
:icontanya3286:tanya3286
:icontanya3286:tanya3286 0 0
Literature
Journey
I stand wide eyed and startled, watching the world go by;
before me is the open sky, but will I be able to fly?
--
Today, I'm soaring high; I have a dream in my heart.
The sun rays show me the way, and I make a hasty start!
--
Now my dream is fulfilled, no more miles to go;
I'm tired, old and aching, and my wings are bruised and sore.
--
Life is not a goal to seek,
you have a long journey to make.
There's joy, there's love and plenty to put at stake.
So go forth and fly above, the angry, stormy sea;
and earn your place as a star, in the sky of eternity.
:icontanya3286:tanya3286
:icontanya3286:tanya3286 1 4
Literature
The Wisdom of Plants
There's something about bamboo trees that lends to its air of tranquility and serenity. In many parts of Asia, some species of bamboo are considered lucky, and coveted as a symbol of status and prosperity. However what is most charming about it is perhaps the gentle rustling sound of the leaves as the wind moves through them, turning the spindle like leaves about, as it spins around like the strips of a child's wind wheel.
Bamboo is a plant that is also associated with wisdom and patience. There is a story of a desperate farmer for whom nothing was going right. One day he sees a man selling seeds of the bamboo, which he claimed would provide for the farmer's entire family if he buys and plants them. He buys the seeds, plants them and goes about caring for them as he did with his other crops. However, months went by and the bamboo seeds refused to throw up even a single green sprout. The farmer still kept on nurturing and watering them diligently. Three years passed, and the people of t
:icontanya3286:tanya3286
:icontanya3286:tanya3286 2 0
Literature
Hero's Rage
Heroes, rage against the dying of the light!
As Demons live larger than life,
Twisted ideals of a twisted world,
followed  more than ethics, morals
The promise of heaven has abandoned me,
A luminous star on a dying streak
I've seen heroes, villains and demons,
fight it out on the palm of life;
Pawned in this game of two colossals.
There is no sacrifice, no martyrdom;
There is only the stink of death and dried blood.
The world ends in a pile of sticks, bricks and bones,
No glory song, no redemption.
~
:icontanya3286:tanya3286
:icontanya3286:tanya3286 1 1
Literature
Haunted
In all honesty, I do not know why I love you so. Maybe I love you so unreasonably, because I know that I can never truly have you for myself, or give myself to you.
You had made so many promises to me, and to this day... I hope that they'd still be fulfilled somehow. But hope is a fickle friend. It fades fast.
We had grown up together, through the hot, sticky summers and its idyllic evenings, when dragonflies buzzed around and bumped into our faces.The papaya tree used to be laden with tempting, juicy offerings which the local boys often stole... ripeLuscious
We laughed through the wild, rainy, muddy monsoons. Sitting together with you in that lonely little room on the roof, we used to watch the dark, heavy rain clouds as they rolled across the skies. Grumbling and rumbling they passed over us and in an unexpected moment, the first big drop of warm monsoon rain used to land on our upturned faces. The scent of wet earth... longingLu
:icontanya3286:tanya3286
:icontanya3286:tanya3286 1 0
Literature
musings...
On rainy windy nights like these, after the skies have cleared, and only the clear moon shines; I suddenly miss my childhood.
Tender youth of days gone by. The days had held more magic, and the future held more promise. I believed only in triumph, as nothing else were true. In fairy tales of goodness and hope... of the haloed moon with its luminous crown.
I want those lost days back.
My youth is slipping past. The promise that was once young; is now withering.
I don't fancy for eternal youth, but let there be promise in the world. So that each one that truly strives, is never disheartened and lost. May you believe in goodness forever, and know that as long as you stand; its worth fighting for and worth defending.
:icontanya3286:tanya3286
:icontanya3286:tanya3286 1 6
Literature
Beautiful Disaster
I remember you from a hazy, old and dusty memory.
I'd loved you to madness, and you had loved me back.
Through the years of winters, summers, and the rain... I remember you.
I remember you from the first butterflies in my stomach.
The tender heart's blossoming desires.
I'd thought, I'd never survive without you... And yet, its been a lifetime.
Here I am.
I remember you. The bitter quarrels and the fervent patch ups.
How did I survive you, my beautiful disaster...?
I see the scars you have left. Its etched under my skin.
I guess you'd never left me, even when I left you.
When I ripped my skin off yours... a part of you remained behind.
I guess I will see you in another lifetime now.
I hope you will remember me... as I remember you.
:icontanya3286:tanya3286
:icontanya3286:tanya3286 5 7
Literature
Calcutta
I love you Calcutta.
I have fought, lost and won, so many of life's battles here.
Learnt, lived and loved to madness.
I have ripped my guts, my heart and smeared it across the dusky sky,
so a part of me will always be here.
An inky blue of old bruises and emotions.
The stars and planets suspended in luminous glow are the milestones of my life,
marked out in the heavens.
:icontanya3286:tanya3286
:icontanya3286:tanya3286 0 0
Literature
Lost promises
My heart grows restless
it longs to seek you out,
Abroad in some strange exotic place
to be lost and reunited yet.
The promise grows heavy
my sight grows dim.
I sit and await your way,
The days roll on endlessly
And every colour fades to grey.
:icontanya3286:tanya3286
:icontanya3286:tanya3286 0 0
Literature
Twilight
Crickets raising a racket
Birds calling the end of day,
Orange glow spreads across the horizon
A gentle breeze says 'come what may'.
:icontanya3286:tanya3286
:icontanya3286:tanya3286 4 9
Literature
A bit of heaven
Every once in a lifetime, there comes along someone bearing the light into our lives. It may be the flame within our soul which had been extinguished by the icy breath of sorrow and loss, or it may be the spark of hope and faith that keeps us moving forward.
Some find that luminescent soul mate in a friend, some find it in their parents; and sometimes we find them in our spouses and life partners.
You wonder how you’d ever be able to repay their generosity to the fullest. Their warmth makes you want to feel the sun rays on your skin again and smile through your tears. They make you want to take your shoes off and go dancing, soaking in the rain.
They unshackle your soul from the burden of guilt of the past, and the apprehension of future. There is melody in the words they speak to you, and harmony in their silence that soothes your soul. The ones who understand you perfectly, completely and accept you just the way you are, unconditionally.
Theirs is the strength that becomes your
:icontanya3286:tanya3286
:icontanya3286:tanya3286 0 3
Literature
Of Fish and Men
There is nothing like the endless sea to make you ponder over a bit of existentialism. So placid, spontaneous and accommodating from a distance, calm and serene in its enormity; yet its destructive capacity is not something to be reckoned with.
I found a number of women picking something up along the shore line. They looked pretty busy and enterprising in their efforts and curiosity drove me to find out what they were collecting. It turned out to be little sea fish. The shoal had probably travelled too far into the coastal water and got caught in the rising tide only to be washed up ashore and fall prey to the petty fancies of carnivorous beings. The beach dogs did not seem to have much interest in the fish that lay on the cool sand gasping for breath. It was the well fed tourists who seemed to be more eager on collecting them in little plastic bags to relish them later, after they had been properly cooked over fire.
It seemed to me, a pity that so many of struggling lives would end up
:icontanya3286:tanya3286
:icontanya3286:tanya3286 0 7
Literature
Oh Pickle!
So, probably anyone who has ever worked almost anywhere has come across backstabbers, incompetent colleagues, politicising busy bees, boss’s pets, over-eager-pain- in-the- butt colleagues, obnoxious bosses and moronic, inefficient bosses. Out of all of the above, the last two are probably the most infuriating.
Imagine coming to work on an off day for a meeting or a training and enduring hours of lecturing and droning and drumming on the same subject that has been thrown around the office a number of times and which everyone has a fair idea about anyway. But since it’s the ‘boss’ who has called the meeting, you’d lose two days salary if you were to be absent on this crucial day, you drag yourself out of bed and bear this drudgery somehow. His manager who is ever ready with her platter of butter to soothe his overgrown ego never fails to mention this point over and over again till you feel like throwing something really hard and heavy at her head. We’v
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My gallery is mostly, predominantly full of Literature. It ranges from carefree verses, sentimental pieces, angst, general poetry, philosophical and transcendental prose and poems and a lot more...

I usually give a reading/interpretation of the symbolism I have used in the artist's section. So if you love serious lit - Go ahead!:heart:

:iconllamajumpplz: :iconbummyballoonplz:

literature

Literature
Ars Materia
Leaving your country starts with getting rid of as many things as possible. You give your old CDs to your sibling’s friend. Donate your art books to a teacher. Throw out as many childhood mementoes as your mother allows. Sell your car. Swap your thick hoodies for your sibling’s t-shirts. Donate the rest of your clothes to a homeless shelter.
You pack books from your old lovers and birthday presents from your current lover. You pack art supplies because they’re expensive to replace. You pack your country’s flag. You buy power adapters.
You cross the world with everything you own in two suitcases and a messenger bag.
On the other side, you rent the first decent apartment you find. For a few days you sleep on an air mattress and eat sandwiches off paper plates. You buy a used table and chairs from an Irish couple down the road who are returning home. They give you scratched pots and pans for free. You buy a mattress new.
You get a new phone and a cheap data plan be
:iconakrasiel:akrasiel
:iconakrasiel:akrasiel 119 58
Literature
you were my eulogy
i wasn't allowed at the funeral.
i wasn't allowed at your funeral.
even though i had held your hand as your breath rattled in your perforated chest, as you laboured to keep your lungs working, as you tried to seek my eyes from behind the haze that was already clouding yours. even though i loved you, i was not enough to keep you with me, i was never enough to make them see that we could be perfect.
they didn't let me into your hospital room either, because i wasn't your family, even though i had been all you had during the nights you didn't even know who you were anymore, even though you had been all i had during the days i craved for the pain. even though we had been together for six years and had a fall wedding planned.
your parents came to tell me to stay away from your funeral, your mother crying as if her heart was the only one that was broken, your father looking at me as if blaming me for corrupting their only daughter, as if i had been the one to pull the trigger of the g
:iconcoup-de-coeur:coup-de-coeur
:iconcoup-de-coeur:coup-de-coeur 21 24
Literature
Hope
It gets tiring holding all this hope. Why do I keep this small thing? It does not connect with anything like an electrical outlet or a blade into a sheath. On the contrary, it stands alone, somewhat as an accessory, something I can flaunt, but I never do. Sometimes I stumble on the uneven ground and scratch my knees on the rocks, tear my pants and drip blood onto my shoes, but I have yet to drop it. It stays firm in my calloused grip, warm and comforting. Many have challenged me – not to grasp this thing, possess it themselves. No, they simply wish to break it, stamp it into the dirt and extinguish the soft yellow glow – and I bear the scars of those conflicts. It is far too large to keep out of sight – it will not fit in my pocket – which makes these battles all the more arduous. This little object of mine has never known the touch of the earth, never tasted of the grit that crunches beneath my feet. You see, this little thing is not something you pick up, not
:iconStevenGilby:StevenGilby
:iconstevengilby:StevenGilby 5 4
Literature
Thunderstorm
Skies clapped and cheered. Humans trembled.
:icongonegal:gonegal
:icongonegal:gonegal 20 8
Literature
For Reba
Those legs
that can not
walk
one day
will fly...
And your
beauty,
your
soulful,
inner
beauty
bring you
one step
closer
to the sky...
:iconGUDRUN355:GUDRUN355
:icongudrun355:GUDRUN355 21 0
Literature
Haiku and lune
(1)
“At winter’s end”
snow drawn breath burning
nose and lungs, holding out hope
spring will hurry home
-
(2)
“Snow drenched earth”
Green shoots cry beneath
snow drenched earth, begging freedom
of Winter’s cold heart.
-
(3)
“Sea song”
ocean roaring through
the conch in small, squirming hands—
sea song on the beach
-
(4)
“Paradise artist”
white orchids painted
on the wall—
humid tropics inked
:iconSamhraVale:SamhraVale
:iconsamhravale:SamhraVale 1 3
Literature
Untitled
I have roses under my skin,
Beautiful crimson blossoms,
Beguiling in their beauty,
All you can smell is their sweetness,
Get closer, can you see
Thorns tear at my veins,
And every touch brings
Unbearable pain
:iconblood-red-ribbons:blood-red-ribbons
:iconblood-red-ribbons:blood-red-ribbons 5 1
Literature
All About Perspective
For every black shadow veiled over a heart,
A light to cast it to illuminate yet again.
For every drop of blood spilt,
A fresh life borne into the world.
For every mistake or misstep,
A chance to make it right again.
For every crumbled brick and fallen stone,
The foundation of a new world.
Heroes are brawny and witless,
Greeting the end with hostile intent.
The sage knows of inevitability,
And greets the end for what lies next.
Stars fade away,
Some fall to the earth.
Beautiful in their time,
The sight never leaves the mind.
Promises will break your heart,
So make your life a beacon,
A haven that you can be proud of,
And the lost shall flock to your glowing presence.
:iconStevenGilby:StevenGilby
:iconstevengilby:StevenGilby 5 5
Literature
Today
Today, I think I'll rise in love
like hot air and steam that rushes
from spouts and shrilly keens
it's strident call of readiness
to meld powders into liquid form
it makes of a mug a homogeneous mess
I can curl my tongue around it and still taste
bitterness; undisguised by sugars guiles
diversity is not so sweet as it once seemed
Today, I think I'll rise in love
I peeled labels off of jars last night
they say it's therapeutic
I can't remember their contents
but it does not matter, for these labelled walls
break down libel and I can breathe
verbs, and adjectives instead, not nouns
my world is made up now of shifting sounds
that leave no individual behind.
Today, I think I'll rise in love
let others fall, this is no Eden state
I don't want More, to feel such hate
I'll start with but one place of grace
and bar its entry without lust
admittance is given only via trust
I'll hold this, a place in aerie cloud
one that would make any heaven proud
but still here I lie beneath my sheets...
Today
:iconDeiSophia:DeiSophia
:icondeisophia:DeiSophia 5 9
Literature
A guide to breaking Earth.
"Sir, sir, please do not touch that!" The panicked man jumped between the hand and the button. "Please sir, with all due respect. No touching allowed, not even for you. I understand it's your first day and you're curious, but please. This room is very delicate!" 
"Aww, Grim, what's the worst that can happen? Why are you named Grim anyway, you look too cheerful for grim." The young man shoved his hands in his pockets and whistled a carefree tone as he walked around the busy room.
Men and women in formal clothing ran around. Papers flew from one side to the other and a lot of buttons blinked as a large monitor, which occupied an entire wall, displayed an image of the world's map. Different numbers flickered on top of the screen, while a control panel filled with weird-looking symbols lined the bottom.
"Is that Earth Grimmy? I never knew it was this small."
"This is just a map sir. Look Jerry, if I can call you that, why don't you go back upstairs? I'm sure you're needed."
:iconMythiril:Mythiril
:iconmythiril:Mythiril 136 105
Literature
020
It's okay, because we're all just a bunch
of shooting stars trying to find a safe
place to land before we burn out.
So ignite with me; lets all burn together.
They'll see us exploding, bodies flying across the black sky speckled with silver
and all that will be left of us are the ashes.
We've never painted the night with the colors from the fireworks,
we've always been about the bang, the boom, crack
that lets everyone know we're here, we've already started. 
Don't leave this world in a whisper.
Make sure they know you exist. 
:iconbrownhairedmaiden:brownhairedmaiden
:iconbrownhairedmaiden:brownhairedmaiden 29 10
Literature
3:00am
There's always fear amidst his joy,
a little voice in the back of his head,
warning him of everything that might go wrong.
Yet, the nightly ghosts and the monsters
who lurk and scratch the floor under her bed,
were just the myths of a man who
wanted an excuse to hold her each night.
He doesn't think like this anymore,
he lies awake and ponders as the shadows
sway in their tribal dance along the walls,
and wholeheartedly hopes, that they
will rip a frustrated scream out of his throat
one that's loud enough to conceal the nagging voice.
"Oh my boy, haven't I warned you?
Love is a sin, don't come near
fairy-tales are only meant for books,
but you dove right in, driven by a foolish need.
You've tasted the bitter end of a blade
roles switched, now you're the monster she fears."

"She says your smile is beautiful,
like a sun shining so bright, a strength through your pain,
yet she fails to see the poisonous thorns
you nurtured with treason and grudge.
She doesn't know
:iconMythiril:Mythiril
:iconmythiril:Mythiril 39 57
Literature
Skin.
I love the way life leaves its mark on our bodies.
Every laugh and smile etched in the crinkles around your eyes and mouth;
Those tan-lines the time you forgot about sunscreen
Because you were so hell-bent on reaching that mountain peak
Or when you just became lost in the gentle lap of waves at the shore;
The scars you got skateboarding in the park at summer dusk
Or when life became pain and it was your only release.
Our bodies are a record of our memories and experiences
They are our travel journals and emotional diaries
Our delicate armour to the elements.
And no matter its colour, its stature, if it's not quite intact
If you sometimes think it takes up too much space, or if it has pointy corners
Your body is the vessel for your soul, and every wonderful facet of who you are
Sparkles from the surface of your skin.
Skin that may grow to be wrinkled, tanned, scarred, well lived-in
Although not always embraced by you the way that others embrace it.
But do.
Take the time to explore the s
:iconKezzi-Rose:Kezzi-Rose
:iconkezzi-rose:Kezzi-Rose 592 143
Literature
the river.
we're up to our knees in rushing water,
you turn back to smile at me and it reaches your eyes.
the current threatens mutiny,
but you're there and smiling as if nothing is wrong.
fearfully frozen; a vision of being pulled under,
free to let go, a ransom to be paid.
i mumble something; no doubt searching for
childhood pets and long buried parents.
we would have been holding hands once, but not today,
you are so far ahead -
dancing carelessly through the deluge.
there are some things we'll never do together -
ice skating, bedtime stories, throwing plates
maybe some words we'll never get to say.
:iconarchaii:archaii
:iconarchaii:archaii 2 2
Literature
Hold the Heart
I.
Your heart is like the old wall,
at the end of the street,
filled with random scribbles,
of names and dates.
Though yours smells of wine and scented candles,
cluttered with faulty promises rather than garbage.
II.
I watched you toss it so many times,
like a useless rag ball, but this time hurt didn't it?
She couldn't bear to see her name,
topping the list of a million others,
nor the lipstick print you forgot to wipe,
mixed with the scent of another's perfume.
III.
She added a new smudge to your wall,
a line of black carefully drawn
across the memories and faces,
and firmly stated:
"No more littering allowed at all".
Then she took a hammer and ripped a hole,
wincing in disgust at the decaying flesh hiding below.
IV.
Hold your heart in your hands,
the patches can no longer sustain,
there are too many pieces now, 
I think you're even harming it more,
with every sting of the needle,
while you desperately try to sew it whole. 
:iconMythiril:Mythiril
:iconmythiril:Mythiril 32 21
Being a writer, I'm honoured to have the privilege to show off these beautiful pieces in my lierature collection! :heart: :heart:

~ If you enjoy literature, you are sure to enjoy at least one of them! Take a look at these lovely pieces from truly gifted writers :)

Favourites

Eastern Green Lizard - Lacerta viridis by Mendipman Eastern Green Lizard - Lacerta viridis :iconmendipman:Mendipman 124 27 Admiration by Alannah-Hawker Admiration :iconalannah-hawker:Alannah-Hawker 641 87
Literature
Ars Materia
Leaving your country starts with getting rid of as many things as possible. You give your old CDs to your sibling’s friend. Donate your art books to a teacher. Throw out as many childhood mementoes as your mother allows. Sell your car. Swap your thick hoodies for your sibling’s t-shirts. Donate the rest of your clothes to a homeless shelter.
You pack books from your old lovers and birthday presents from your current lover. You pack art supplies because they’re expensive to replace. You pack your country’s flag. You buy power adapters.
You cross the world with everything you own in two suitcases and a messenger bag.
On the other side, you rent the first decent apartment you find. For a few days you sleep on an air mattress and eat sandwiches off paper plates. You buy a used table and chairs from an Irish couple down the road who are returning home. They give you scratched pots and pans for free. You buy a mattress new.
You get a new phone and a cheap data plan be
:iconakrasiel:akrasiel
:iconakrasiel:akrasiel 119 58
Literature
you were my eulogy
i wasn't allowed at the funeral.
i wasn't allowed at your funeral.
even though i had held your hand as your breath rattled in your perforated chest, as you laboured to keep your lungs working, as you tried to seek my eyes from behind the haze that was already clouding yours. even though i loved you, i was not enough to keep you with me, i was never enough to make them see that we could be perfect.
they didn't let me into your hospital room either, because i wasn't your family, even though i had been all you had during the nights you didn't even know who you were anymore, even though you had been all i had during the days i craved for the pain. even though we had been together for six years and had a fall wedding planned.
your parents came to tell me to stay away from your funeral, your mother crying as if her heart was the only one that was broken, your father looking at me as if blaming me for corrupting their only daughter, as if i had been the one to pull the trigger of the g
:iconcoup-de-coeur:coup-de-coeur
:iconcoup-de-coeur:coup-de-coeur 21 24
Literature
Hope
It gets tiring holding all this hope. Why do I keep this small thing? It does not connect with anything like an electrical outlet or a blade into a sheath. On the contrary, it stands alone, somewhat as an accessory, something I can flaunt, but I never do. Sometimes I stumble on the uneven ground and scratch my knees on the rocks, tear my pants and drip blood onto my shoes, but I have yet to drop it. It stays firm in my calloused grip, warm and comforting. Many have challenged me – not to grasp this thing, possess it themselves. No, they simply wish to break it, stamp it into the dirt and extinguish the soft yellow glow – and I bear the scars of those conflicts. It is far too large to keep out of sight – it will not fit in my pocket – which makes these battles all the more arduous. This little object of mine has never known the touch of the earth, never tasted of the grit that crunches beneath my feet. You see, this little thing is not something you pick up, not
:iconStevenGilby:StevenGilby
:iconstevengilby:StevenGilby 5 4
Literature
Thunderstorm
Skies clapped and cheered. Humans trembled.
:icongonegal:gonegal
:icongonegal:gonegal 20 8
Life Goals by kangel Life Goals :iconkangel:kangel 140 31 Daily Paint 1301. Koiosk by Cryptid-Creations Daily Paint 1301. Koiosk :iconcryptid-creations:Cryptid-Creations 4,133 136
Literature
For Reba
Those legs
that can not
walk
one day
will fly...
And your
beauty,
your
soulful,
inner
beauty
bring you
one step
closer
to the sky...
:iconGUDRUN355:GUDRUN355
:icongudrun355:GUDRUN355 21 0
Literature
Haiku and lune
(1)
“At winter’s end”
snow drawn breath burning
nose and lungs, holding out hope
spring will hurry home
-
(2)
“Snow drenched earth”
Green shoots cry beneath
snow drenched earth, begging freedom
of Winter’s cold heart.
-
(3)
“Sea song”
ocean roaring through
the conch in small, squirming hands—
sea song on the beach
-
(4)
“Paradise artist”
white orchids painted
on the wall—
humid tropics inked
:iconSamhraVale:SamhraVale
:iconsamhravale:SamhraVale 1 3
Literature
Untitled
I have roses under my skin,
Beautiful crimson blossoms,
Beguiling in their beauty,
All you can smell is their sweetness,
Get closer, can you see
Thorns tear at my veins,
And every touch brings
Unbearable pain
:iconblood-red-ribbons:blood-red-ribbons
:iconblood-red-ribbons:blood-red-ribbons 5 1
Literature
All About Perspective
For every black shadow veiled over a heart,
A light to cast it to illuminate yet again.
For every drop of blood spilt,
A fresh life borne into the world.
For every mistake or misstep,
A chance to make it right again.
For every crumbled brick and fallen stone,
The foundation of a new world.
Heroes are brawny and witless,
Greeting the end with hostile intent.
The sage knows of inevitability,
And greets the end for what lies next.
Stars fade away,
Some fall to the earth.
Beautiful in their time,
The sight never leaves the mind.
Promises will break your heart,
So make your life a beacon,
A haven that you can be proud of,
And the lost shall flock to your glowing presence.
:iconStevenGilby:StevenGilby
:iconstevengilby:StevenGilby 5 5
Literature
Today
Today, I think I'll rise in love
like hot air and steam that rushes
from spouts and shrilly keens
it's strident call of readiness
to meld powders into liquid form
it makes of a mug a homogeneous mess
I can curl my tongue around it and still taste
bitterness; undisguised by sugars guiles
diversity is not so sweet as it once seemed
Today, I think I'll rise in love
I peeled labels off of jars last night
they say it's therapeutic
I can't remember their contents
but it does not matter, for these labelled walls
break down libel and I can breathe
verbs, and adjectives instead, not nouns
my world is made up now of shifting sounds
that leave no individual behind.
Today, I think I'll rise in love
let others fall, this is no Eden state
I don't want More, to feel such hate
I'll start with but one place of grace
and bar its entry without lust
admittance is given only via trust
I'll hold this, a place in aerie cloud
one that would make any heaven proud
but still here I lie beneath my sheets...
Today
:iconDeiSophia:DeiSophia
:icondeisophia:DeiSophia 5 9
Literature
A guide to breaking Earth.
"Sir, sir, please do not touch that!" The panicked man jumped between the hand and the button. "Please sir, with all due respect. No touching allowed, not even for you. I understand it's your first day and you're curious, but please. This room is very delicate!" 
"Aww, Grim, what's the worst that can happen? Why are you named Grim anyway, you look too cheerful for grim." The young man shoved his hands in his pockets and whistled a carefree tone as he walked around the busy room.
Men and women in formal clothing ran around. Papers flew from one side to the other and a lot of buttons blinked as a large monitor, which occupied an entire wall, displayed an image of the world's map. Different numbers flickered on top of the screen, while a control panel filled with weird-looking symbols lined the bottom.
"Is that Earth Grimmy? I never knew it was this small."
"This is just a map sir. Look Jerry, if I can call you that, why don't you go back upstairs? I'm sure you're needed."
:iconMythiril:Mythiril
:iconmythiril:Mythiril 136 105
Kuroshitsuji: Ciel and Sebastian by K-Koji Kuroshitsuji: Ciel and Sebastian :iconk-koji:K-Koji 9,932 921 Kuroshitsuji: Claude Faustus by K-Koji Kuroshitsuji: Claude Faustus :iconk-koji:K-Koji 7,770 592
~ From wonderful artists from around the world!! :iconbigheartplz: Its a mixed bag of Funny, Sexy, Beautiful, Lovely, Insightful and some of just sheer awesome Talent... :icongrin--plz:

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Some One by MistiqueStudio Some One :iconmistiquestudio:MistiqueStudio 165 17 Hangin' with the Chickadees by xpegger Hangin' with the Chickadees :iconxpegger:xpegger 110 34

Happy New Beginnings Of 2016 :D

Journal Entry: Sun Jan 3, 2016, 11:53 PM




Hi guys!

It's been so long that I updated my journal, but what better time than the beginning of the year!? 2015 was a grand year and amazingly it passed by in the blink of an eye.:o (Eek) 

So many good things happened. I changed my job and found a more satisfying, better paid position. Meow :3 

Wrote considerably less, but what I wrote was solid, quality stuff, or at least I like to believe that. Sweating a little... Helped out a lot with volunteering and got more actively involved in animal welfare in the city. It's not an easy road, but it brings with a lot of real, deep satisfaction. Fostered a beautiful, blind, abandoned white Pomeranian female from the shelter and got her adopted. She was with me for 2 whole months... We had so much fun! My dog was insanely jealous of her though. Nuu 

Now for those whom I missed out on dA.. The year was pretty gruelling and hard and I could not keep in touch with most dA peeps regularly.. especially whom I call good friends ~ red-winged-angelStevenGilby and SolidMars. Even though life has gotten busier and more hectic, know that you guys are always there on my mind, and when I can't talk to you directly, I always hope and pray that you are all doing well.

As for the new year... I'm wishing people 'Happy New Beginnings' rather than new year... cuz, why quantify life, when you can qualify it! Love Airborne  Hope everyone out there: DOES MORE, LIVES MORE, CARES MORE, SMILES MORE and PUTS THEMSELVES OUT THERE MORE THIS YEAR and have grand new beginnings. Cuz I read somewhere and I quote ~ " The planet does not need more successful people. But it does desperately need more peacemakers, healers, restorers, storytellers, and lovers of every kind."

Stay Awesome peeps... :blowkiss:



Features



Hunter and Priest by Starke-HazHigh priest and Merchant by Starke-HazPunzinho e Bufinha by Starke-HazHappy RO Valentines by Starke-HazEveryone's first MVP by Starke-Haz

  • Reading: Poe's short stories
  • Watching: mockingjay 2
  • Drinking: hope

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tanya3286
Wise Old Owl
Artist | Professional | Literature
Activities: Writing human interest/developmental stories for magazines, newspaper columns, blogging, volunteering for various NGO's etc.. etc.. :P

Hobbies: Writing, meditating, music... travelling ~ :la:

#RaNdOm FaCtS

I'm a movie buff. Not too crazy though.. I can watch interesting wildlife and animal documentaries for almost hours on the end~~ :love:

I do a lot of volunteering for community animal welfare, but I still feel that it's not enough. I try to do my bit for my neighborhood and community and So Should U~!! ...yea, that's me. ^^

I believe what Eleanor Roosevelt had so passionately said ~ "It is better to light one small candle than to curse the darkness." ~ and so everyday I try to do my bit... :heart:


#On more random notes~

I love animals, almost all sorts, in all colours, shapes and sizes. Love mangas & animes and I'm always in for a good movie!

Likes stalking interesting deviants... :evillaugh: :iconstalkplz:



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Hi there~!

:iconbigheartplz: Don't Thank Me for the Llama by DirtyZephyrAssassin

Comments


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:iconred-winged-angel:
red-winged-angel Featured By Owner Feb 3, 2017  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Happy Birthday, Tanya~!
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(1 Reply)
:iconhiddendelights:
hiddendelights Featured By Owner Jan 5, 2017
:heart:
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(1 Reply)
:iconred-winged-angel:
red-winged-angel Featured By Owner Aug 9, 2016  Hobbyist Digital Artist
:hug:
Reply
:icondeisophia:
DeiSophia Featured By Owner Mar 27, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the :+fav:
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:iconred-winged-angel:
red-winged-angel Featured By Owner Feb 3, 2016  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Happy Birthday, dear Tanya~! Another year of our friendship has passed by. May there be more to come! <3
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(1 Reply)
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