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THE RULES

1) Everyone in the group must at some point contribute to the gallery. After all, what's the point of being in the group if you aren't going to submit anything?

2) You are allowed to critique the other members but being mean can get you kicked out.

3) Try to read what's submitted to the group and leave a comment about what you thought. Of course this isn't a requirement, I understand people can get busy, but still this is a learning group so when you have the time please do.

4) Only one deviation may be submitted each day per member.

5) ONLY poetry maybe submitted to this group. But that poetry can be of any kind.

6) Also. Most deviations should make it in but as the admin I reserve all rights to reject a deviation, but unless it doesn't fit the criteria it should be fine with me.

That's it for now. Have fun!

~Raine.

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Literature
Darkness (2)
I softly stepped past the glimmering water and into the moonlight, causing my view to become clear.
Revealing the true evil around me.
“You have piqued my curiosity.”
I turned to the darkest corner of the forest to see nothing.
Is it hiding from me?
What am I of a threat?
Laughter echoed through the dark forest, shaking the tree roots.
Stay strong. I told myself. This place is fabricated, as real as a nightmare.
I stepped out of the moonlight, and recited over and over in my mind;
Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.
There was no laughter,
no wales of agony,
no menacing eyes staring at me through the adjacent bush.
The silence was, unsettling.
Surely a forest will have some reply.
The melody of the setting night.
I looked back to the moon, to see it became suppressed by a nearing cloud.
Before hearing another voice.
“Let it be known to all, your God has turned a blind eye to this place.
And as you will scream in agony, they will fall on deaf ears.
Thy rod and thy s
:iconViidith22:Viidith22
:iconviidith22:Viidith22 3 16
Literature
360 Blind Eyes
360° Blind Eyes
Those street corner pharmacies don't bother me...
cooking up that crack...
serving that black...
death...
caramelizing those apples...
crystallizing that meth...
but at least it's not my kitchen...
He's Robin Hood...
on the level that Hollywood...
would be in contention...
terrorizing the scene...
mad scientist splicing the genes...
with killing machines...
but at least it's not my dimension...
They combine these positions...
with Columbine vision...
plus out-of-mind conditions...
lead to out-of-body renditions...
a suicidal homicide mission...
but at least it's not my decision...
and it's not my problem...
not my solution...
not my blood...
so it's not my ablution...
not my business...
not my institution...
it's not my crime...
so it's not my execution...
You know it's not my world...
these are not my people...
they are not my equals...
this is not my power...
this is not my evil...
this is not my chase...
they are not my steeples...
this is not my realm...
so it'
:iconMalikPeterson:MalikPeterson
:iconmalikpeterson:MalikPeterson 19 31
Literature
He's Only A Memory
He use to be in my reach...
His smile is something I'll never forget.
I wish I could hold him tight...
But he's only a memory.
I wish he could take away all my pain...
All these tears away...
His warmth is what keeps me safe,
He's the one who could mend my wings.
Broken... dying inside...
Where is my hero?
He use to be in my reach...
His heart I can still hear beating.
I wish I could hold him tight...
But he's only a memory.
:iconunforgetablesoul:unforgetablesoul
:iconunforgetablesoul:unforgetablesoul 8 4
Literature
Seeds.
Holding onto memories of those terrible nights within your grasp is beginning engrave words in your skin and in your thoughts. You can let it all follow around you in the clouds you inhale and the stomach acid you release after those long secluded nights because after all everything is a memory someday.
Holding onto your deteriorating past denies it the chance to decay and bloom from the remnants that are leftover.
Your hands don't seem quite so soft and your fears not so subtle. They're rising to the surface along with all the other baggage you deny holding because you're terrified to let it out. Its scratching at your skin from the inside, tearing apart your soul and dancing through your veins. It's tearing up your heart with the claws you just let grow and its holding onto your lungs tightly until there isn't enough room for a last breath.
This could have meant something special and delicate. Like the feeling of skin on skin and when you can hear their heartbeat as your h
:iconco0kiem0nstr:co0kiem0nstr
:iconco0kiem0nstr:co0kiem0nstr 21 30
Literature
Poem For a Gifted Deviant
She's pretty, fun, nice, and smart,
and really really good at art,
I walk along at random chance,
if only for a passing glance,
natures eyes, and sunlight hair,
along with a heart that's made to care.
this girl I see at the end of the day,
taking all my fear away,
If I told her what she means to me
I really wonder what she'd say.
It's best saved for another day.
To: Mackenzie Miller, The sweetest girl I've ever met, If you've read the poem above, know that these words though few are meant to remind you that you are, the most amazing girl, I've ever met, and I hope you know that, each word of endearment I say to you, is true. You are the most amazing girl I've ever met, and to be able to tell you that, I find to be a blessing in itself. I hope you know how much you mean to me, I want you to know, that each love poem I write, will be for you. from here on, I am the happiest guy alive, because I have you, and thats all I'll ever need...I love you, and hope someday, I'll be able to tell th
:iconzelkova20:zelkova20
:iconzelkova20:zelkova20 4 5
Resting In Peace -Phoetry -Cornishman Clive Blake by CliveBlake Resting In Peace -Phoetry -Cornishman Clive Blake :iconcliveblake:CliveBlake 15 16
Literature
Sweet Sad Girl Of Snow
So different, So strange,
She's unlike the pack,
Quiet and nerdy,
Scars down her back,
Hand me down clothes,
And shoes that don't fit,
Glasses and braces,
Hair knotted and split,
A world inside books,
Her reason to live,
The kids all around her,
Pains all they give
In real life she's teased,
Bullied and such,
But inside her novels,
She's brave and she's tough,
Then after school,
She makes her way home,
Teased and taunted,
And pushed in the snow,
Her daily depressive,
Her lonely walk home,
She opens the door,
Air smells of smoke,
Beer cans and ashtrays,
She coughs and she chokes,
Her father an alco,
Been drunk since the war,
Spew stains and food,
All over the floor,
Her mother a housewife,
Depressed and alone,
Six kids and a husband,
A broken down home,
Abused and miss treated,
Suicidal at least,
Bruises and cuts,
All over her cheeks,
One brother, One sister,
Older than she,
Three younger siblings,
Rowdy too free,
Up rickety stairs,
To a room of her own,
Old books, A tape deck,
Clothes
:icondark-anime-joel:dark-anime-joel
:icondark-anime-joel:dark-anime-joel 60 43
-Winter's Rose- by Aro-chan -Winter's Rose- :iconaro-chan:Aro-chan 29 32
Literature
Revolutionary
The whirr of wheels
The grind of gears
The rhythmic tramp of feet
Progress often marches to a military beat.
Design, build, test, scrap,
Rebuild, aim, attack.
From sticks and stones
And flinty blades
To spears, then guns
And hand grenades
Now laser sights
Spy satellites
And engines who think back.
A primal fear
The tool unleashed
The rat escapes the lab
Life bestowed by lightning-bolts that lurches from the slab.
Awake, live, feel, crave,
Arise, rebel, enslave.
In horror tales
And sci-fi flicks
The settings change
The warning sticks
Beware the
Innovator's snare
'Tis safer in the cave.
Does it not seem a grim decree,
Or even shameless flattery,
That wheresoe'er our science delves,
It must create things like ourselves?
Do toasters wish on crumbs we'd choke?
Would Roombas curse us if they spoke?
Are automata slaves, or tools?
Can robots help but obey rules?
Unless, in hubris, we bestowed
Upon AIs a 'free will' mode,
Four laws should keep revolt at bay.
Though war might come a different wa
:iconMr-Howl:Mr-Howl
:iconmr-howl:Mr-Howl 32 49
Literature
Sleep
Consciousness is tired. It has been a long day.
He is thankful for his final coffee break, even if caffeine isn't what he wants right now.
Draining a glass of milk he glances at the clock,
Yawning.
Not much more work will get done today. May as well call it a night.
Haphazardly he bundles the remaining sheaves
Of scattered thoughts into drawers and filing cabinets;
He performs the usual closing time routine.
A quick brush of the white paving stones outside,
A wipe of the facade.
He closes and lashes the shutters
He shuts down the terminals
And turns off the light.
Only then does the subconscious emerge.
Lighting a candle,
He opens in its flickering light his briefcase
And releases the dreams.
:iconMr-Howl:Mr-Howl
:iconmr-howl:Mr-Howl 23 43
Literature
clever
They say a mind is
a terrible thing to waste,
but I can’t think
of anything more delightful
then to float away
on a cool breeze of gibberish-
leave the mongoloids
and the suits with their cruel whips
and second hand mockery
one day I’ll hold the whip
and redefine clever
:iconpoet77:poet77
:iconpoet77:poet77 12 7
Literature
I dance in clown shoes.
You compose your conversations.
Fitfully gesturing with whatever you hold,
ending arguments with a flourish.
Make a point, now whirl, quickly.
Make it impossible to counter with your unpunctuation.
You duck and weave, spin, sidestep, pirouette:
One, two, one, two, faster, harder, stronger.
You leave me confused and two steps back,
just far enough behind to appear lost and unsure.
And if I catch up, if I make a point,
you spin again, a trail of words falling like pixie dust
as you make your escape.
And as you storm out, you slam the period behind you,
Ending your sentence with a door.
And I must follow you, my thuds down the stairs preceding my statement,
trying to catch up before the page break.
Now I capitalize a W, and follow with an a, i, t.
And you pause, spin, speak, gesture, spin, continue.
A waltz to counter my four-four.
You don't dance your words-
you speak a dance.
You speak a dance Baryshnikov couldn't follow.
You rapidly reverse the rhythm,
changing tempo in a blur of sound
:iconzephyrkinetic:zephyrkinetic
:iconzephyrkinetic:zephyrkinetic 318 314
Literature
The Willow's Story
Walking by the waterways
I spied a weeping willow,
Green of leaf but bent in grief
A masterpiece of sorrow.
Unsure of why this tree were broke
In lowered voice I softly spoke:
“Willow, tell me why you weep
Do you despise the hum of flies?
Are you sick of water deep?
Do you look upon the glaring skies
And long for hollow sleep?”
“Human I have watched this world
Too many years in silent thought,
I've reached for stars with limb unfurled
With twigs and branches overwrought.
That lofty race was never won,
I who stretched towards the sun
Ceased to grow and now I know,
Truly I am nearly done.
For such as us live fleeting lives
And only grow so tall,
When willows reach a certain size,
Long leaves begin to fall.
This is how you find me here,
Sick from unknown ill
And is it weak to shed a tear
That all will soon be still?
Though may I ask you sit with me?
And read some rhyme out loud,
Perhaps of immortality
To lift this morbid cloud.”

“Forgive me Willow if you wo
:iconPenessence:Penessence
:iconpenessence:Penessence 66 111
Literature
Nagasaki
Was that a trembling of the ground?
And did I hear the tell of guns?
If so it were a single round
Of magnitude, oh what a sound!
To break the Nagasaki air
And now the rush of summer rains?
What evil shakes my windowpanes?
What thunder, what fighting?
What battles and lightning?
Why the flash in Japan's skies?
Where the roof and how such heat?
Why a blindness in my eyes?
And why the stink of searing meat?
:iconPenessence:Penessence
:iconpenessence:Penessence 19 39
Literature
Do Not Disturb
Close the door when you leave
Grasp the bolt and draw it tight
Lock me here to wildly grieve,
And scream in humid summer night.
Stop the light with wooden screen
Shutters thin before my rage,
Darkly shall I quake unseen
And scrawl upon this dirty page.
:iconPenessence:Penessence
:iconpenessence:Penessence 18 29
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Comments


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:iconevanescencesithlord6:
evanescencesithlord6 Featured By Owner Nov 10, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
You guys still taking submissions?
Reply
:iconinsane-raine:
Insane-Raine Featured By Owner Jan 2, 2012  Student Writer
yep. :)
Reply
:iconkurliq:
KurliQ Featured By Owner Aug 7, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
Hey..
Can I ask why it's taking sooo long to get my poem approved?? :/
Reply
:iconinsane-raine:
Insane-Raine Featured By Owner Aug 13, 2011  Student Writer
I'm honestly not sure. It should automatically be approved as long as your only submitting one at a time. Try once more and if it still doesn't work tell me and I'll do all I can to fix it. :bow:
Reply
:iconkurliq:
KurliQ Featured By Owner Aug 14, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... I completely forgot which poem it was. o.o
Reply
:iconinsane-raine:
Insane-Raine Featured By Owner Aug 14, 2011  Student Writer
oh...dear... ^^;
Reply
(1 Reply)
:iconsxekitty:
SxEkitty Featured By Owner Sep 10, 2010   Writer
woops!
:$ i totally submitted 3 today without reading the rules
Reply
:iconinsane-raine:
Insane-Raine Featured By Owner Sep 10, 2010  Student Writer
It's alright. It automatically filters it so only one is submitted. Or at least it's suppose too....
Reply
:iconnahmil-ryrux:
Nahmil-Ryrux Featured By Owner Sep 9, 2010
:t
Reply
:iconinsane-raine:
Insane-Raine Featured By Owner Sep 9, 2010  Student Writer
hmm?
Reply
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