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High Society - PROLOGUE"Selene!"
The mottled grey rabbit curled over sullenly in the corner of the cafe.
"Oh." Selene blushed. "Yeah?"
The rabbit opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted.
"Get up, Tinto. It's time to start." The voice belonged to the Eastern Cottontail leant against the doorway.
"Luci, who put you in charge anyway?" Tinto rolled lazily to his feet.
"Me." Luciferr crossed her arms defensively. "I'm the only one that could sufficiently run the group of you. Besides-" She grinned subtly - "Its only appropriate that the Luciferr should be in charge of hell."
Selene frowned "But The society won't be-"
Tinto yawned, adjusting his beret pretentiously. "Who cares. Lets go!"
Amnesia And InkpensStories and Angels
medallions and eyes
soldiers and battles
and mellowing lies.
Chair-backs and lightbulbs
blank paper and candles
shoelaces and bracelets
and street-lamps and vandals.
Ribbons and bare feet
fist fights and dry grass
hairpins and telephones
and cold bloodied glass.
Amnesia and inkpens
old boots and drains
blue buttons and patches
and poets and pain.
Beautiful things, that are buried,
Amnesia and Inkpens,
another page to be turned.
Dear B.Dear B.,
Can you try to understand?
Your slipping through my fingers,
sand falling into sand.
I tried to tell the truth,
but no-one's got it all
I have to walk away -
I cannot break your fall.
I know that you'll be hurt,
But your are strong, little B.
I know that you'll be hurt,
But you'll go on,
Untitled for poetic reasonsMonotony, that sweet salvation
With silent steps do tread.
Hatred is your own creation,
Life's just hanging by a thread.
Contrive to comply, audacious one,
Mediocrity's a gift.
Fly too high, you'll touch the sun -
Divergence is a rift.
Difference is a word for threat,
Pain with every false endeavor,
This is not a world of no Regrets,
Whats gone is gone, Forever.
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
Keep in Touch!
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