[x]

My six-word-stories"A lot is said... none meant..."

"Love and logic truly don't rhyme..."

"Who said you ever knew me...?

...but you did, didn't you? Why?"

"Writers paint pictures that painters cant"

"Do raindrops, departed, ever meet again?"

"I lived till you loved me"

"Alas, you are my darkness redefined"

Waiting for her to come this wayThe breeze tousles through the night and his hair.
He sits in expectance for her to come here;
waiting for her to come this way.

Like that first time; her footsteps echoed so loud.
In a night as such not even the moon could be proud.
An ethereal glow she emitted, an embodying light.
The wind ruffled her black locks like an angel in flight.

Her breath was a sanctifying whisper of life
and her dress; oh a woven fabric of natures device.
Her soft traces upon the earth would have grown
the fruit bearing brushwood, piercing through a stone.

The hair settled; the wings retreated, her eyes slowly set
on a young boy tending tulips. Their

Waltzing his last danceThe hall slowly fills;
there is not a tremor, not a sound.
The silence instills
the beating hearts of those that stand around.
Merriment then swells;
its satiating tremble within so profound
but alas there is but one man,
that waltzes to a tune unfound.

The merriment grows
as heels tap and dresses sway.
The bodies glow
with the light shimmering over the ballet.
The melody flows
for all participants are joyful and gay
yet woeful is the man in the corner
that dances a dance of dismay.

People laugh;
the girls in the hall giggle and pose
on the men's behalf
displaying their ornamented clothes;
the splendor in craft
invit

The Maiden

Once a being, just once to find,
she blossomed between the folds of time;
a maiden whom no words defined.
Her qualities, such were divine.
A rose which when expressed, would shine
with beauty, love; the words would rhyme
when seen as one, in one so fine.
Ones heart would melt and so did mine.
But life, it is true, was never kind,
to lives of beings like hers and mine.
For things do change, cocoons do split.
Mountains too, shall crush to grit.
Fate is what, none can escape.
Endowed it is; feel free to debate.
She lit in me, an unknown spark,
like fireflies, they spin, they dart,
fascinating the world and I,
Such were t

Nothing you could do"There is nothing you could do about it". That was something that always made me cry when I recalled it for the last few years.

I had heard it since I was a little boy wearing shorts running around in school. One day during our dodge ball practice my friends accidentally hit a girl sitting alone on a bench. It bruised her arm.While the other boys continued playing with no concern, I approached her, sitting nervously at the other end of the bench.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

She rubbed her arm a few times where the ball had hit her and then withholding tears she gave a weak smile "Its ok, the pain cannot be lessened. There is nothing you can d

The Real me There was one time when you thought I,
was perfect, no defects to hide.
Impressed were all, imposed a lot,
On all your minds, but you knew not.
The truth of me, the lies I hide,
I do not lie, but hide I might.
Whatever way, deceived you are.
Blinded by, a truth so far,
So unreal, you cannot grasp.
Believe or not, its truth alas,
But hate me not, that's who I am,
But that's for me, to you I am,
Or tried to be, tried very hard.
To be a friend, one true at heart,
To help you out, fulfill your needs,
Play a small role in your deeds.
Intention wise, I will not lie,
The one thing which I ever tried,
Was to bring

Forgotten RemainsThere once was a great nation… a nation with a name.

But now they are the…

Forgotten remains;
forgotten they remain.
The memories they hold,
the tears they contain,
are theirs' alone
only theirs to atone.

Their curse

Whimpers gently rise;
tears flow again
for time cruelly denies
salvation from pain.
They seek sleep to happy lies
but such tries are in vain.

Dying but living on;
futile hope too moves on.
They're engraved deep in graves,
poor soulless souls enchained.
Confined and enslaved,
with no happiness saved.
They rot in a gorge
where only sorry reigns.

Their story

Theirs tales shriek through night

My Truth"My life tells of lies,
tales of vows and torn ties.
Of stories having names;
blank pages filling frames"

The promise you madeThe breeze so cold; carrier of the sorrowful tiding;
Wingless Angels were we, yet my heart felt like gliding.
The steepness of your eyes, the endowed visage,
outshining the splendor of nature's foliage

Words wedged in the throat, too shy to be eloquent.
Thus I replied with a smile, yet happiness... distant.
I sighed, a deep slumbering sound, complimenting a tear
for reality had realized my worst nightmare.

Oh the days spent moseying through dense shrubs,
by the beauty of the summer spring where dwell the cherubs.
Oh we shared twice the sorrow as we shared each others pain
yet our memoirs, our companionship let the pain not remai

PerfectionFoolish I'd say, may all those be
who so foolishly wish to achieve
what is approached only, never touched
Be it in your hand, but never in your clutch.

The Man without a FaceHe stares in a mirror through eyes clogging tears
a smirk persisting alongside; a dead, worthless sneer.
He stares hard yet recognizing not the man he sees
recognizing that man is a desperately elevated dream of his

He wonders if his deeds - reflected - are right
he betrayed his friends, he abandoned his wife
reasons always lurk in the pits of the mind
yet so dark? At times his cynical heart reclined.

He smiled on insults and laughed in disgrace
he knew not what he was so he altered his face
with each turn and bend, with each traffic light
his face twist and turned, losing remnants of sight.

A con you could say, no one pronounced

I wanted to make friends

The psychiatrist held the door as a hesitant child of age eight walked in and sat on the small stool. The psychiatrist sat opposite to him.

"Hello George, I am Dr. Majid. How are you doing?"

"I am sad Doctor No one plays with me and I am always alone at school."

"I am sure it will be fine after some days. So George, do you know why I have called you here?"

"No… I don't know"

"Well then George you know about Shelly? You know what happened to her?"

"Yes Doctor I know. Why?"

"I want to know what happened when you last saw Shelly. Everything okay George? This is very important"

"Okay Dr…"

"Can you please tell me what happened?"

A Quills LamentThere are words I sketched, remote emotions stretched
through the swirling strokes that matched
my own lament.

Delirious wishes once flew; many dreams came true
through hands molding exquisite brews
from which I distilled upon you.

Oh such hopes I held, from the new owner that held
the art above seduction, the lovers thrill,
the power of words - a quill.

Yet the digits I traced were of such spiteful taste;
crude criticism splashed, distorting my reflection -
burning coal thrown in my face.

My tip bled such words in red blotted ink – records…
no! Tears of mine as my master's will
forced the damnation of a quill.

Yet fire onc

She tended to flowersShe tended to flowers through the day passing by;
she tended to flowers through the dark rising high.
She smiled as she tended and nourished the pots;
as frail as she was, this work she could not stop.

She grew each plant from each seed of each fruit
that she ate; be it weak; let it have a bent shoot.
She grew them in pots, tiny pots which she sold
"Take care" she called "they are more precious than gold!"

Her heart broke and bled and shattered some more,
when she sold pieces of her soul she yet bore.
But an old lady she was, she could not keep them all
in a house old as she was, so old and so small!

She then ushered away the c

The lilies she lent

In some mystic woods, bloomed an innocent bud
It nurtured delicately; from the vile world she was shut.
But alas; 'fore she left, ten love lilies of red,
that withered only at her will, she plucked.

She roamed the wide plains, with her beauty ablaze;
her scent aromatic, earning many a praise.
Yet gullible was she; the sprout of love
homed in her when she met the boys gaze.

Such charm and enchantment; oh what lovely art!
His ways did betray purity of the heart
his wines curled around the innocent girl,
poisoning her soul with his impulsive darts.

Yet one, con by birth, never has a strong hold
over one true love only, thus her l

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Symphony of life: MadnessA symphony? No, a sonata? Rather an ambiguous ambition,
enslaving my words to convey illustrative addictions.
A fool's time would be spent, were they to ponder my words.
For a free stream of hopeless rubble comes only from a coward.
Yes a coward may I be, but a madman too you say?
I divulge in my likes, be them lighted halls or dark ways.
Oh a crime should it be for a young child to play;
to color the sky with the darkest shades of gray?
Is it a crime to realize ones inner being, their madness?
To see their flaws, their failures their inner sadness?
To see a lifeless garden within cacti bloomed.
A carpet of dread, flowers of deat

Toffees and JuicesIt was a sunny day. The traffic comprised of a usual composition; a man with statistics on his mind might further support this observation. Though the traffic ran smooth and undisturbed, there was one particular junction where it condensed. Here the heat and blaze from the cars seemed atypical as the engines hummed silently for the traffic signal to open.

For many at the busy junction it was a lucky day for examination results were due. For others it was rather unlucky for very different reasons. Indeed some could blame their bad luck on a fairly dusty batch of stale toffees and expired juices.

Just as typical as it was for a certain number

Life will laugh at youYou breathe the air to live a life,
a life without the will to strive.
BUT to strive one does decide,
a plan to be, a plot devised.
A tragedy; someone's demise;
a family, of troubles rise.
Accept defeat, defeat the lies,
mold the lies in truths disguise.
Which brings a change, the mind divides,
Chastise the plans revised.
But slowly fading in the sky,
our dreams too die, you're left to die,
to rot in some troubled domain,
you're all alone, but whose to blame.
For back away, it is the same;
no past of dreams, no struggling aim.
A blind attempt purchasing fame,
But in the end it brings no gain.
Just a tale of endless pain;
Ag

Tears and smiles Tears and smiles,
return after whiles.
They're unlike yet so near,
for your smiles spell my tears.

The Flamingo with a limp leg (incomplete)Oh my dearly beloved, why you turned away and ran,
why conceal tears while I stood to wipe them away?
Why fall over while I was to clench you in my embrace?
Why live in lies while I shall show you the truth?
Oh dearly beloved I confess with not a shred,
not an ounce of hesitance lingering in this aching soul.
I believe in what I say and so I shall pronounce it again.
I wish to be together alongside you but force you I cannot.
Just elucidate why your vista glimmers not upon me
and I shall turn away and never face the meadows,
never enter the temples, never ride through the wide plains.
I shall then beseech the sea which empathize

The Asylum Prologue

The ticking clock forces the doctor to look from his routinely magazine and sigh before reaching for his lab coat. He wished not to stand among them yet it was his job at the asylum.

Stood men of colors united in but a draping of blue
in an enclosure with absolutely nothing to do

Of ages to guess, from the infant to old;
caressing their beards or tweaking their toes

They joke, laugh and sing over evils of life
how good men must die while the wicked shall thrive

May Justice prevail, is the sole dream of theirs
but alas they're too trapped in the wicked man's lair

A gust blows

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Submitted: November 6, 2012
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A thousand dreams to be in your grace

by ~NotenSMSK, Nov 6, 2012, 1:10:34 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

A thousand words I mustered
each word for you, more eloquent then the last.
A thousand breaths I breathed
each breath carrying my aching life unto your mast.
A thousand whispers I spread
each whisper conveying my lovers delight.
Unto you, do I bequeath my lover’s delight.

A thousand gems I mined
each gem tumbled, compared to your elegance.
A thousand cloths I refined
each cloth aches for the fair maidens tread.
A thousand roses I pursued
each rose anxious to home in your locks.
Strained - anxious to home in your locks.

A thousand songs I crafted
each song to clothe you in fine praise.
A thousand tears departed
each tear in remembrance of your face.
A thousand dreams I dreamed
just to witness the bliss of being in your grace.
What more can I ask than to be in your grace?

A thousand days I waited
each day brimming hope in a hopeless heart.
A thousand burdens I weighted
each burden failing in shredding my love apart.
A thousand miles I distanced
each mile devouring upon my weariness.
For no distance can be conquered by my weariness.

Yet on the day our souls collide,
with a single utterance do you shatter
the thousand dreams that I had dreamed
just to be in your grace.

A thousand dreams to be in your graceby ~NotenSMSK

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

This is a work written for the contest of

.

I wrote it on spot but that does not make me say that critique it keeping that information in mind. I wrote it simple and expressive. Not much mysteries or aspect of sorrow that many of my works portray.

Though I have not been in love, I do wonder what the people who have experienced the feeling, are willing to do for a loved one. This poem is an embodiment of that perspective of mine.

For those who are kind enough to critique:

1. Did you enjoy the work?

2. Did the flow seem natural or did the expressions feel painfully forced together?

3. Did the analogies, limit of love work well or did it feel like random, unproductive ramble?

4. Did the ending go well?

5. General comments.

Thank you!

Critique by ~KikuMizu Mar 22, 2013, 2:05:52 PM

1. Did you enjoy the work?
Yes, yes I did. I was kicking myself for not reading it earlier.

2. Did the flow seem natural or did the expressions feel painfully forced together?
Only at the first repeating line did I go "Wait..." but when I read the next verse and it made sense.

3. Did the analogies, limit of love work well or did it feel like random, unproductive ramble?
It sounded as if the speaker was talking of someone far away, out of reach, and perhaps out of love for them. Or maybe someone they hadn't met yet but were dreaming of.

4. Did the ending go well?
Sounded like death, actually, and not in a bad way. I thought this person either died to meet them or met them by chance, as if it were a dream before.

5. General comments.
I very much enjoyed this. I am going to show it to a friend of mine who would enjoy it as well and try to convince her to become a deviant, though she is also one of the people trying to convince me to get a Facebook so it might not go as planned...

What do you think?

Fair Unfair

The Artist thought this was FAIR

1 out of 1 deviants thought this was fair.

8 Replies

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Critique by ~Laeneris Nov 10, 2012, 1:13:08 PM

1. Did you enjoy the work?
Yes.

For someone who's never been in love, I'm somewhat surprised at the way you wrote it. It does give the impression that you know the feeling of love (but not quite, and I'll get to that soon). The words and expressions used are beautiful and lyrical. But... I can't feel the meaning behind them, and I guess this is what makes the difference between someone who has and who hasn't been in love. In writing love poems that is. It's very hard to capture either way, though, so don't feel bad! What I think is lacking here (and this is an attempt of putting it to words) is passion.
Then again, you did mention you wrote this on the spot and how this is your perspective.

2. Did the flow seem natural or did the expressions feel painfully forced together?
No, they didn't seem forced. At least not to me. I did think the ending broke the feeling the rest of the poem had, partly because it's 4 lines (unlike the rest) and there's no longer an element of rhyme. But I'll get to that in point 4.

3. Did the analogies, limit of love work well or did it feel like random, unproductive ramble?
They fit nicely with the theme of '1000.' I didn't feel like they were random, because love does push you to the limits of things you'd do for the other. Most of them were beautiful, both when read and when spoken aloud.

My only suggestions is about this sentence:
A thousand gems I mined
each gem tumbled, compared to your elegance.
I'm not sure how I feel about 'tumbled,' and I think 'tossed' would work better here!

4. Did the ending go well?
I'm really torn over this ending.
If I got it right, the person who finally met the other got rejected, thus having his (I'm going to stick with 'he' for convenience) dreams shatter. I can't help but feel this piece deserves a different ending. Please don't get me wrong. The rest of the poem is lovely. It's just that I think the switch between praise/flattery and the gloomy ending is a bit mismatched.

On the other hand, it does show the harsh reality people may face after having built up their dreams and hopes about another, only to have them shattered. So in that regard, I do like it. It's just that I thought the contrast between the positive first part and the negative ending was rather big.

5. General comments.
I'd like to express my admiration for your way with words. I'm sorry if it seemed like I didn't like this piece, because it's actually the opposite! I do like it, I just think it's lacking something that could truly move someone were they to read it. I hope I haven't offended you and of course, feel free to disagree with me about anything.

Peace out!

What do you think?

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5 out of 5 deviants thought this was fair.

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~BrowncoatMando Nov 19, 2012 Hobbyist

Even the title is good. It's a real attention grabber.
It's a better piece than I could even imagine writing.

~NotenSMSK Nov 19, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Your kind words really mean a lot to me! And like I wrote in a work

"my my, gloomy contemplations lead nowhere"

I do think everyone has their own forte

while poetry might not be yours, you might be well versed in some other form of literature. And then again... practice makes a man perfect

_{I didn't assume you were gloomy or that you need to cheer up it was just an expression to avoid looking pesimistically (ignore spelling mistakes)}

~ReinaReinaReina3 Nov 17, 2012 Student Traditional Artist

Amazing!

~NotenSMSK Nov 17, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you!

~ArandomMoon Nov 11, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I enjoyed this work! I was amazed by all the beautiful analogies that you conjured and i didn't think it was rambling. Just something I thought, I felt as if the ending(last paragraph) was a little too quick. The lines "Yet on the day....utterance you do shatter" is great but I wonder why even though you had other analogies, you focused on the one about "the thousand dreams... in your grace." You could take a step back on that part and talk about how this lady shattered EVERYTHING, not just the dreams he dreamt since that narrator did more than just that for her. This is definitely a nice piece of work!!

~NotenSMSK Nov 11, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you very much for taking out the time to comment and go through my work

I am glad that you enjoyed the work! The dreams has been focused on since dreams embody his wishes and over all everything.

Is there any other analogy that you think might be suitable instead of dreams?

~ArandomMoon Nov 11, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Ah, ok. It makes more sense now. That analogy is the best choice! Then, you know how you wrote the analogy twice? I would recommmend putting the first one at the beginning so it has more importance instead of blending in with the others. That way, when readers get to the last part, they will recognize the line more easily and it will seem more important to them (repetition). Either way, great job!

~NotenSMSK Nov 13, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Hmmm... that is a very good advice! Initially I had thought the same but then I had to think of something that works with tears... I will look into it

Thank you for your advice!

~IAmJustASecret Nov 10, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Enjoyed the word, even thogh it sounded like a monologue somehow, but that kinda made it interesting to read. The last sentence went well. That thousand dreams sounded like a clishe...

~NotenSMSK Nov 10, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you for your feedback! Monologue in what sense? Also dreams are not that original a concept if a number like thousand is added before them I guess.

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A thousand dreams to be in your graceby ~NotenSMSK

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