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About Literature / Artist Chris D.South Korea Recent Activity
Deviant for 6 Years
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Vader with Parasol :iconlimpfish:limpfish 6,929 715 Geisha :iconlukpazera:lukpazera 7,051 602 Mad Tea Party :iconrevolverwinds:RevolverWinds 200 21 akwarelka90 :iconkatarzynajaskiewicz:katarzynajaskiewicz 187 14 Headphones are Stylish. :iconzemotion:zemotion 17,830 942 It's A Magical World :iconspacecoyote:spacecoyote 6,390 0 Gift for Danielle :iconjo-yumegari:Jo-yumegari 315 46 Four Horsemen :iconmarkwilkinson:MarkWilkinson 2,552 246 Town where the sky is dark :iconmatabi:matabi 3,526 233 Funeral of character :iconhikarishimoda:hikarishimoda 1,643 119 Warm summer rain :iconstudiounderthemoon:StudioUndertheMoon 55 6 Day's End :iconninelkl:ninelkl 13 7 Manhattan :iconmicorl:micorl 878 34 White Gate :iconuvar:uvar 385 47 Goldfish Dreams :iconjustindmiller:justindmiller 149 21

Newest Deviations

SEX :iconart4sexy:Art4Sexy 0 0 Smoking Jesus :iconart4sexy:Art4Sexy 0 0
Literature
The Real Folk Blues
It's 1998
and, I filter
truth
through gun smoke
traveling
down a road
centuries gone
while
listening
to the ballad
of a fallen angel
and I wait
for the kiss
from a dying rose
to greet me
as I walk
along
to the only
thing I know
to the only place
I still go,
to the music
of dead memories.
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Literature
I went to a cemetery
I went to a cemetery to search for love
The polished stones
Stared back at me
As I  walked,
Alone,
From tomb to tomb,
Name to name,
Ghost to ghost,
Listening...
To their heartbeat,
To the silence
Of the dry, dark,
Autumn night,
Passing by.
Stopped,
Near a fallen
Oak tree,
I asked,
The cold brisk wind
To merry me.
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Literature
Just because
Just because it's not real, doesn't mean I can't pretend
The pine trees have fallen silent
As the owls stand against the night
The leaves harden to a crunch
Their blood drains away to dirt
Paths hide from us, cloak themselves
Dreams frighten, scatter upon approach
The silver eye dances in somber silence
As tidings of friendship crash and burn
The stern cliff tightens in the afterglow
Its grey face turns to stone, to solitude
We are bound to ethereal memories
Eternity veils its visage in shame
Imagination stalks my childhood
As fading thoughts realign the stars
The mellow mastery of time, of sadness
Washes into pockets of my earnest sight
Shapes and whispers mount their attack
I wish only to know how dreams solidify
How life turns my dreams into madness
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Literature
Vein
Where's your messiah?
Blood halved into truth
And split into divinity
The way a face crinkles,
Shallow pools, and...
Nameless wonders
Breath stuck upon the shade
Of new born stars
Like eyes too clean to dream
And windows too slow to cry
Have what you will...
Even your fear
But give me none of this...
Or all but your tasteless minds
Cloaks draped in sleeping blood
Trenches whirled in glorious festoons
Balloons brighter than reality
When things just make you cry,
You don't start to realize
Or even imagine what you thought
Truth might have been
Or what the past makes you be
You tilt your head
Watch the drifting sky
And know, what no one else can feel
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Mature content
Advice :iconart4sexy:Art4Sexy 0 0
Literature
The World
the world doesn't work the way you think
the world doesn't work the way it should
it doesn't go from here to there
it doesn't like being naked or bare
it doesn't hoot and howler
it doesn't like to be bothered
it doesn't let children play in the woods
it doesn't like its childhood
it doesn't go for long walks on the beach
it doesn't want to hear your speech
it doesn't like thursdays
it doesn't care if you are gay
it doesn't like tacos, pizza, or guacamole
it doesn't like the Nintendo Wii
it doesn't sing in the shower
it doesn't serenade autumn flowers
it doesn't know when it shall die
it doesn't like homemade apple pie
it doesn't like hidden fees
it doesn't have memories
it doesn't shop at the strip mall
it doesn't put milk in tea
but most of all,
it doesn't seem to like me
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Literature
Glory Days
i have these things, these pieces,
these memories; they stain
my reality like
children pissing their names
into a fresh snow, like
carnivals that whisper
to me at night, like a
drunken ghost sleeping and
crying quietly next
to me; days fade away,
rushing towards nothing;
the past lingers, harbors
hope that one day, someday,
it and I shall be reunited
like the glory days of old.
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Wittgenstein :iconart4sexy:Art4Sexy 0 0
Literature
For You
i stand where i cannot be
like ocean waves singing
to dreams deferring;
washing towards my innocence
little girls play to and fro
hop and skip to merry time
and where my heart aught to lie?
is where tragedy comes to die
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deviantID

Art4Sexy
Chris D.
Artist | Literature
South Korea
null

Current Residence: South Korea
Favourite genre of music: many
Favourite style of art: guess
MP3 player of choice: iPod
Favourite cartoon character: ninjas
Personal Quote: If people never did silly things nothing intelligent would ever get done.
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