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Ballad of the Ninja PenguinsOh, ninja penguins stand alone
Along the icy shore,
And dive into the frigid deep
To glide on ocean floor.
They dance and spin under the waves
(As ninjas ought to do),
They eat some fish and search for gold
To store in their canoe.
Now ninja penguins ought be warned,
For pirate seals are worse.
Their large sharp teeth will sadly end
This ninja penguin verse.
A Lover's CaseIt always alarms:
that pale cold eye
dripping between October leaves,
that omniscient scrutiny
aloof from mortal anguish.
Yet tonight my gaze
holds more power,
melting its precise lines
in a single hot look.
Nuit damour, I beg
No proposals or strategies,
in your silent watch.
AnamnesisI will forget him now that he is gone,
And let this mem'ry slip between the weeks.
I will forget the way his eyes were drawn,
Or how he lost ability to speak.
The way he twitched in coma's grip one noon,
And how his hair fell out in daily clumps -
I will forget his shrunken form cocooned,
Chained down by respiratory pump.
How damned these eyes, that will not let me rest,
And damned this freight of thoughts that brings me back.
And now with death, I find myself possessed
So mesmerized by this, one broken pact.
You left five years ago but never died
And breathing free, you laugh behind my eyes.
MartianVisitstheMusicBuildingA song is the result of a soul exploding,
tasted through the ears.
The violins, a curious species,
are bred for the sole purpose of torture.
Slowly the executioners saw at them
with pointed sticks that evoke a most terrible
range of screams, before they die
and are buried in black locked boxes.
The highest authority
is the rank of Steinway,
worn only by a large, hunched animal.
Sometimes it is silent, examining the humans
with all 36 of its sharp black eyes;
although when consulted
it emits a quick soft answer.
When it is feeling sociable,
it will proceed to engage in long
airy conversations, and when it has
been displeased, it vents its anger
with a loud, cacophonous roar.
Often, though, it sits alone in contemplation,
as is the custom on this planet.
Flutes are a petrified breed of snake,
containing numerous circular incisions
along its spine: used for coded communication.
A melody, indiscriminate in her predatory hunt,
eats her way through murky canals
Arrange the pen, the page, the frenzied eye,
the fingers itching to thrum on the typewriter keys.
Breathe in the air mixed with orange peel,
chocolate, coffee grounds, stale wine
pencil shavings, smoke, and mold.
Tense. Compose. Stall
until the words run burning though flesh,
flicking silver scales and curves -
a torrent of green, black, and gold imps.
Release them in mashed scrawls upon the page;
stab those that try to escape and bury them
in shallow, scribbly graves.
Find those drowning in the muck
and encircle them in heavy lines of red,
a thin line of salvation from the imminent revision.
And begin again:
Taste the words: the delicate sifting calm of oooh,
mmmms that pinch lips and rumble like a cats purr.
The apple-flavored aaah that dances across the palate;
the quick sharp hummingbird articles and thick dusty clauses,
vibrant feathery adjectives that flit between
their dull and honey-colored nouns,
singing a wild song all thei
The BeginningHe told them, of course. He told those idiots everything, the whole damn story, including the blunder he'd made, and its consequences. Looking back on it later, he realized he had probably been in shock the whole time. It made sense, anyone would have been.
Soph was about twenty years old, and he'd been that way for a couple of years already, ever since the Hoarde had started attacking humanity from the past. Every day that passed, they ate at another day in the past. It sickened him. Those creatures had absolutely no regard for proper time and causality protocols.
It didn't seem to affect anyone else that way, though.
The Hoarde was the result of a human creation, of course, like everything bad in the world, though no one else knew about them. Then again, no one else had undiluted access to the power of creation. Even he didn't know much about the Hoarde, only that they appeared through some tear in The Fabric of The World and started killing people off. They appeared at some point in
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More