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The Sound of Rain
The feel of rain covers up the loneliness,
And the tears that mask the pain
I cannot see what the others can,
But I suppose that keeps me sane
The rain has a beat like a timpani,
And it plays all day long
The screams that echo in and out
Act like the chorus of a song
I try to sing along with it,
But I cannot find the words
The rain slightly lightens,
And I can hear the fear of the birds
The tree's branches are louder
Than the building in the night
As they loudly sway and thrash
But then the silence causes fright
The sound of rain seems to go missing,
But it simply hides
There is the sounds of others screaming,
And then the rain fully resides
The sound of rain is comforting
Like a mother that's in sight
For my house is not a home
When it only brings me fright
To Kiss the SkyI have tried to kiss the sky before
To simply brush upon its cheek
Yet it lays just beyond my grasp
Even beyond the arms of trees
And I have tried to trap the wind inside my soul
But the wind is free just like a bird
It does not need to climb along the treetops
It simply flies with wings not there
MercyOh sweet God how the grassland
ignites in moonlight tonight
I must thank you for creating
her tangled fingers' slow pace
through the handsome rain Her
trochaic kinesthesia to rhythms
in Stravinsky's The Rite of
Spring Is this how you meant
for us to love you Yahweh
Tumbling clumsily down hills
of sheets into perpetually
immutable silence I could love
you like that I think I've been
practicing on this Savanna
for days and months Lost in
her crystal canvas Rolling crests
and troughs And when she touches
me Oh fair Lord I'm dragged into
your city past Gethsemane's
pulsing green and gold
Please hold us together
under this luminous stretch
Oh Father We are live
unclothed Our reflections awash
with the skin of your sun
Life is but a DreamWe are just unnourished frail bodies,
overfed with white lies and short-lived-euphorias.
Books filled with black letters,
etching lurid images into our utmost dreams.
Veering us from the big picture...
the one we fail to paint ourselves.
Our fists much too busy with fights,
that we are bound to lose.
Too occupied in line waiting,
for creativity to be let loose like a stray dog.
As if we will find home in this pursuit of happiness...
but we only enclose each other in small rooms
with nothing but old laptops.
How many times I've guessed which letter could it be...
Which letter could it be?
To free us from havoc-stricken-thoughts?
They come and go, unending like 24 hour subway stations.
There's no break for this lonely man,
heaving every breathe of stale air
into my overused lungs...
Living in confined walls of flesh
held up with brittle paper-mache bones.
Which day is it that I will burst out from this cage of a life?
And hover with the Gods found in carefully binded bo
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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