|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
The Studio - Past and Present
Turn the knob
Hear the door gently creak.
The doorway to imagination
the doorway to inspiration
the doorway to dreams
the doorway to nightmares.
Glide across the studio
toward the corner
toward the glass
toward the canvas...
toward everything and nothing
at the same time.
Take the brush
(type the words)
Choose the color
(open your eyes to your heart)
(type faster, faster!
before it leaves again!)
Sit in the chair
(smell the new/old dust)
observe the work
(read the words)
feel the brush fall to the floor
(take your hand off the keys)
Hits the floor with a sound oddly
like thunder. Disturbing the silent
sanctuary of this place.
Select the perfect frame
(Which category to submit?)
That one...in the corner.
Oak inset...hand crafted..velvet mat.
(Hmm....Emotional I think)
Hang it on the wall for all to see.
Hesitation...is it good enough?
More Than The Whole
Minute details of your soul
things nobody else can see.
The freckled nose, the tiny mole
the way you glow when you're with me.
The twinkle in your emerald eyes
like starlight in a favorite dream.
The soothing music of your laugh
like water in a lazy stream.
The fact that you have perfect hands
that hold to mine so tenderly.
The dreams we share of distant lands
the "I love you's" when no one sees.
Holding hands under the desk
I see the pieces of your soul.
And as I listen to your breath
I see that you are more than the whole...
Open ended landscapes of emotion
stretching as far as they eye
can see to an unseen destination
that only it knows.
No limits, no boundries
no start, no end.
For good emotions this is
a wonderful thing.
Finding a new facet to explore
every day as you run with childlike
innocence simply because you can.
Room to fly, room to soar
room to run, room to be free.
But what happens when the painful
feelings transforms this
utopia of open space into a
prison without bars?
No companionship, no change
no laughter, no tears left...
And you would trade all the
space in your world for
a tiny room with a single
friend who cares and listens.
No hidden goals, no mistaken meanings
no bitterness, no hate...
Just a little closure.
And that is enough.
Random Thoughts of a Poet
Pondering what it is about
our minds that turn simple
everyday objects and actions
into beautiful works of art.
Wondering where the line is drawn.
Good, bad? Masterpiece, flop?
Who decides what deserves a place
in an art gallery or the discarded
pile in the corner?
Imagining the scenes in my mind
were real places, with real people
and real laughter, but it is just
an imagination like everything else.
Dreaming of being great (truly great)
some day. So people will know my work,
will feel my emotions as I pour them out
like crystaline drops of water from a
pitcher falling and taking shape on
the canvas of my mind.
Just like everything else
all crystal clear in vivid color
Jobs are laid to rest again
some are finished, most undone.
Drawing toward that place within
to distant lands with blazing suns...
Anything you want to be
and everything you know you're not.
In the land of sleepless dreams
where goals are reached, and souls are lost.
People daydream of this place
and let the real world pass them by.
Trapped within a shrinking space
they're forced to watch their loved ones die.
But at the ending of the day
when all the bells have finally tolled.
The prison of their life abates
and sink to pillows made of gold.
And for the briefest stretch of time
a tortured soul feels full of hope.
The land where dreaming calms the strife
and lives the dreams of tattered souls...
FW Contest - Matrix7(2)
As I walk through my day I see
streets full of people with empty heads
and hollow souls. Rushing to get to places
they really don't want to go.
Searching for things they never really wanted.
And killing for things they put in a yard sales.
So I go to my place that they don't know about
my sanctuary if you will, inside
the walls of my mind yet larger than my world....
I fade from their eyes (I was never really there to start).
I fade from their goals for me, their desires
until only I am left with me/myself/and I.
I open my eyes and look down, but I see no hand.
I raise my arms to wind that no longer exists
and embrace the matchless peace as I fade deeper....
deeper...deeper...deeper....until all that is left of me IS me.
My essence, soul, ambitions, dreams, goals...and I am content.
So I watch as life rushes by to places they don't want to go...
searching for things they never wanted, and I shed tears of
pity for them because they don't take the time to learn to fade......
FW Contest - Matrix7(3)
As I step into this place of peace
the howls and cries that filled my reality
a moment ago suddenly cease to exist.
I turn around and look through the non-existant
wall (yet it is there) between here
and "the real world" and smile.
I have walked for lifetimes to get here.
Been to hell and back more times than I care to count
all for one moment's respite, one moment of peace.
And now I have it. I breathe the untainted
air around me, stretch my hand through the
wall and instantly feel the sting of life's vampiric kiss.
Cold, yet intensely hot. Repulsive, yet tempting...
As I retract my hand I smile at the peace I have
found in the oddest of places.
Where everyone passes but nobody looks...
The eye of the storm is encompassed and saturated
with crystal tears of peace, and quiet.
And for a brief moment in my life, I stop to smell the roses...
and as I watch life rage and swirl around me....I smile.....
FW Contest - Matrix7
The storm called life is raging on,
I see it from the inside out.
Rain against the pane glass beats,
hear the sounds of angry shouts.
Teardrops from a dying world,
surround my safe and secret place.
Troubles dare not follow me
to this place of peace and grace...
I come in from the cold outside
when I need a place to rest.
To calm my anger, hate and pride
and get some secrets off my chest.
When at peace I leave this place
but leave the beacon burning bright.
Back into the ragin storm,
but I never lose sight of the light.
My safety net when things get tough
the lighthouse of my soul burns on.
To guide me through when life gets rough
and catch me there in open arms...
Of Snake Charmers and TreesThere are mathematicians
that calculate the gravitational
pull that tethers us to one another,
teasing sense out of the fabric
of Time and Space like
wizened snake charmers.
I thought them so horribly
unromantic, searching for
logic amidst wildflowers--
reasoning being reason enough
to put one foot in front
of the other each day.
True beauty lay printed
on petals and pages,
where I delved for pearls;
the patterns in the pathos
intriguing me into each
rising of the sun.
I do not remember when
it occurred to me that
without fractals there would
be no trees, nor without love
would people have any reason
to calculate the distances that
separate them from their muses.
Keep in Touch!
scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More