|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
MineI am His craft, I took my form
Beneath His skillful hand,
And though I walk through flame and storm
He helps me understand:
"In darkness you will see me shine,
In anxious doubt I send my sign
For you are mine,
For you are mine,
Redeemed to show my grand design."
But I am weak and impotent,
And much I do not know.
Besides His grace, all heaven-sent,
I would not overflow
Above the waters dark and deep
That tempt me towards my mortal sleep.
O, they will sweep,
O, they will sweep,
But God is here my soul to keep.
So dwell no longer on the past,
In distant memory,
But look to him who breathed his last
And gave His life for me.
In deserts dry he lays a road
To drink the sky-sent word that snowed
And melting flowed
And melting flowed
To drench me in this love He showed.
Beach DayIn undulating waves that pound the shore—
Their frothy tides embracing higher waters blue—
I saw my joy, and sat down to adore
The one this heart would daily choose to wander to.
No distance quite too far, no background din
Too raucous that I cannot stay and ponder
All the currents stirred I'm swimming in
Inside my heart, a longing still for more,
And wanderlust for oceans to explore.
Wax and WaneOh! wide-eyed wonder high up in the sky,
My only link transcending time and space,
How many separations have gone by
Before the searing coldness of your gaze?
And always in the fullest of your phase,
When many separations must go by,
'Tis then you choose to show your pallid face
And wide-eyed, sunder sighs up to the sky.
And yet you bear no ill-will, though I try
To pin my loneliness within your place.
For when I have my love within my hold,
You wrap the night around you in its folds
And from our private union hide your face
(Oh! Wide-eyed wonder!) from sighs up to the sky.
No FallowIf fruitful labor has but one sad fate,
'tis that my mind cannot in fallow lie.
My wearied hands do not procrastinate,
I promise you, but as I sit and try
To summon up the simplest of a noun,
I'm flummoxed, flustered, full of bluster.
Fertility demands that life lay down
And give until there's none to muster:
O! what a cruel device, this sacrifice!
The StruggleThough once I said it was adversity
That birthed the most imaginative verse,
In darkness lies no creativity,
Despair itself destroys and gives no birth.
It murders, leaving no recourse for mercy,
Swallowing up the brightest minds, its maw
Insatiable except for vilest cursing
Of self-inflicted wounds all rubbed and raw.
But when the light inside me flickers fire
And cuts through darkness with its needle rays,
The smallest candlelight might then inspire
Poetic justice for defeated days.
In light alone do shadows find their shape,
The struggle from which poems find escape.
WoundsThe time when verses flow most freely from my mind
Is not when life has altogether been too kind:
The echoed strains of joy, what words could catch and capture
The speechlessness of laughter, hearts abrim with rapture?
It's hopelessness and sorrow baring wounds through words,
A crust of scabbed emotions daring to be heard;
It itches mightily, and though you want to rip
Apart the hurt and all reminders in one strip,
It stings to know there is no bottom but an ooze,
This awful spring of inspiration, pain-infused.
But give it time to heal, protect it from all harm,
And off it comes. The skin beneath is new and warm
And paler than before, but solid in its form.
Memory #4: The CostIn my sophomore year, we would have prayer meetings every Wednesday afternoon. I would say that weekly meetups and prayer meetings were the times I learned the most that year. On one level, I learned about prayer itself, and how many different ways you could pray. You could pray through the Word (praying through a psalm was a particular favorite of mine), you could pray in one voice with each other, you could simply praise and adore God, or thank him. Along with my meetups I learned more about confessing in prayer as well. On another level, I learned a lot about the many different things we could intercede for. We would pray for our campus, our ministry, our missionaries, and most importantly, our people and the various facets of their lives. It felt that every prayer meeting was learning a new thing about prayer.
But even more than these substantial lessons, I learned a lot from the older people who led the prayers. Seeing their example as prayerful men and women left a deep impressio
UnspokenUntil the day appointed when I stand
And tell you all the hope you fill in me,
I'll tell you naught of what I understand
Within my heart, unseized by urgency.
For in the promise now I see no need
To haste the swelling feeling deep inside
Nor give up hope: to pray and not to plead,
To slowly bridge this shortening divide.
But we are closer than I could have thought,
And in the light of such proximity
The sentiment our interactions wrought
Are all too easy for your eyes to see.
For now, let this reward you for your wait:
The tenderness my actions indicate.
TraitorYou are a traitor,
Vile and a hater,
Who had my trust
Now crushed to dust!
What is your motive,
What did I not give,
To secure our bond?
Was I the one conned?
Well I really think
That YOU broke our link.
In the end YOU lied,
Cast our ties aside!
I offered up my all,
Was behind your every fall,
You mostly did the same,
But it was just a sick game!
You are the traitor,
The vile hater.
I’m no longer serving,
Ditch someone deserving!
untainted and pure
white as snow
can they endure
turning to grey
whatever you say
I don't think pure
is the word anymore
tainted and grey
turning to black
this is the price you pay
for the life you live
covered in sin
the dark ground
hiding and waiting
can't hear a sound
my senses have left me
darker than coal
tainted and dirty
evil and bad
before I'm thirty
50 DaysOn the first day she was blinded by the light
On the second day she put up a fight
On the third day she learned how to love
On the fourth day a hand she took hold of
On the fifth day she did nothing at all
On the sixth day she learned how to crawl
On the seventh day to school she went
On the eighth day she fell to the cement
On the ninth day her baby clothes she outgrew
On the tenth day let go of your hand too
On the eleventh day she got sick
On the twelfth day she learned a card trick
On the thirteenth day she looked more like her mother
On the fourteenth day she made friends with others
On the fifteenth day you got her a phone
On the sixteenth day you left her home alone
On the seventh day she graduated school
On the eighteenth day she learned the world was cruel
On the nineteenth she felt so alone
On the twentieth day she just wanted to go home
On the twenty-first day she began to cry
On the twenty-second day he wanted to die
On the twenty-third day she pulled through
On the twenty-
AddictIs that a challenge?
No really, I want to know,
I'm addicted to struggle and harsh words fill my syringe,
I dope up and then I'm ready to go,
Lost in a daze of hallucinations that won't stay, so I binge,
Praying this insanity never lets me go.
Is that a challenge?
I could quit any time I want,
but quitters never win and I'm winning everything,
Though I may lack the sophistication other junkies flaunt,
I am just as unpredictable as the real thing,
So I dare you, I double dare you to give me a taunt.
Worldly Ways, Worldly WoesWorldly Ways, Worldly Woes
Go forth, my son, into our world.
Know its ways and means
Keep your wit and mind alert
Keep your heart clean
Watch everything and every man
Decide to part or follow
Stay awake and await the chance
You'll know both joy and sorrow
So I went to university
I got my degree and went abroad
I hoped that life abroad would make me free
Indeed it should
But though i am free I feel regret
For the thought of freedom remains unlike between men
Some think that it gives them right
To interfere with others' rights
That primes them for a fight
And in the end
It gives me blues in the night
Beautiful DemonAs we approach the end of the season,
I fail to understand the reason,
of why such a beautiful demon,
would renounce his precious freedom.
Waiting at the top of the hill,
i asked the demon "Why are you standing still?",
and slowly turning his eyes, a bit black, a bit red,
he told that he was already dead,
but his tears were only of joy:
for him, time could no longer destroy.
ParanoiaIn your time,
terrible things may happen
which to your life
cause untold destruction.
These horrific events
will put you through hell,
but you can get back up
and live your life well.
Or can you?
Perhaps those events
linger on in your head
and you feel
a permanent sense of dread
and every action
that ever will occur
you fear will destroy
your life forever.
Or will it?
Eventually, you don't know
what to think anymore.
You don't know if that's your spouse
or a lying, cheating whore.
You embrace the thought
that all that is around you
and is out to get you.
Or is it?
FitBorn into this Earthly puzzle
Corporately designed display
Where neat and tight connections
Happen every day
They fall in place so easily
Like laser lines well lit
Why am I the only piece
That just can’t seem to fit?
cautatoriicostă atâta forță
să tot pari puternic
nu mai rămâne mult
criticianul și-a înțeles
catastrofa lipsei de talent
el doar distruge
doar cu-minte se ascunde
unii pescuiesc greșelile
de parcă le-ar iubi
© j.w.waldeck 2010
Please do not USE
anything of my work!
On the Eve of BattleBeneath his helmet, tears are in his eyes,
Though tall he stands before the battle line.
He feels that swell of raw emotion rise,
Beneath his helmet, tears are in his eyes.
But in that proud array, it's no surprise:
No fear or grief are in those tears that shine.
Beneath his helmet, tears are in his eyes,
Though tall he stands before the battle line.
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