I make no promises but I did add a poem!
And We Thought of Her as BeautifulHer skin is sandpaper,And We Thought of Her as Beautiful by Veritas-et-Caritas
So we likened her untouchable.
Callousness made up her tongue and throat,
So we liken her unspeakable.
Malicious for her manicure,
Disappointment for her pedicure,
And we wondered why she had even bothered.
She replaced her sinews and calves
And perfected her bosom with deception.
Her neck and hair, she flushed with vanity.
(And intentionally misplaced her heart)
Her tendons strung embitterment,
The bones of Iron, so that they may not break,
And her entirety perfumed with histrionic fragrance.
And we said perhaps this is too far.
So she rouged her cheeks and legs,
With naivety and shadowed her eyes with innocence.
And her lips the faintest brush of desire.
A glitter of childhood,
A foundation of youth,
And she plucked her brows with virginity.
Her mascara was charming.
Her freckles delightful.
Her teeth perfection.
(And perhaps did she curl her hair with attraction?)
So we wondered at her and called her Beauty.
And forgot the bones, the sinews,
To My FriendYou were here with me, today.To My Friend by Veritas-et-Caritas
We crept along the cedar glade
and spied that pine plum thing.
You spoke of that old battle
and stories of the Civil War.
I listened, quiet, images imagining.
You remarked Tennessee was pretty,
but Idaho more heavenly dignity.
And I, the Tennessean, most pointedly disagreed.
I turned and saw the place where you should be,
realizing your presence only Heinsburg uncertainty
and that truly you are miles and miles away from me.
Remembers, RememberingRemember the seven brothersRemembers, Remembering by Veritas-et-Caritas
(or was it seven swans)
Whose sister, silent seven years
Weaved seven shirts, coarse cloth
And saved seven souls in her endeavor
(or was it swans?)
The seventh son, the youngest one
Swears, the second sleeve
Of the seventh shirt (his particularly)
Was missing. In its place
The wing of the seventh swan.
His sight smoky (cloudy)
Seeing still in swan
Shaded, slanted memories
Of shadowed stilettos
Remembers she, the swan.
The missing second sleeve
Of the seventh shirt, the scar
And he, the seventh one,
(or was it wings?)
The Bright Side of DyslexiaI was born with auditory dyslexia.The Bright Side of Dyslexia by BatmanWithBunnyEars
I once heard of someone who wrote, directed, and coastguard in their own movie.
I knew what the right word was, but it still got me thinking:
About the invigorating music of waves crashing against my vessel,
The challenge of serving to the best of my skills,
The pride of keeping the shores of my homeland safe.
That was how I found my career,
And it's been just as rewarding as I had hoped.
An episode of CSI mentioned literature marks on the vic's neck,
Which inspired a fulfilling side project of poetry.
In a later CSI, taunts were exchanged:
"I'm the king of the jingle here! You don't stand a chants!"
"That's what you think! This isn't my first radio!"
(It wasn't a very well-written episode.)
Anyway, with that I tried adding tunes to my rhymes.
The result was better than I expected;
A local morning show even played one of my works on the radio!
My girlfriend told me she needed a shoulder to crayon.
This inspired me to
Undressing PoetryShe clothes herself in poetry,Undressing Poetry by dreamsinstatic
seals her skin within the verse.
Each line becomes another garment
that conceals her fixed form's curvature,
but peels away when read.
Last night I dissected a stanza,
clamped it tight between my teeth
and tugged it down her legs.
Her body breathes warm and sweet,
speckled red like a summer strawberry field.
I sucked the juice from her lines and
spit the punctuation like seeds.
My lips mouthed the shape of her words
as my skin grew more sticky with
every splash of imagery dripping down my chin.
I peeled apart her soft pages
with sticky, pink fingertips that left them
clinging to my skin.
A single flawless line remained
between the cloak of poetry, her and me,
so we spoke the words in unison,
revealing everything and setting her verse free.
We, Veritas et Caritas (Truth and love), are an artistic couple who collabrate to create art. Most of our pieces are calligraphy drawings. Eventually we hope to take commissions and sell pieces. As for now please comment and critique!
To reach us outside of deviantART, please use
Thank you! And we are excited about joining the deviant art community!
Current Residence: Somewhere between the Purple Mountains and Shining Seas
Personal Quote: "Mapco! Oh wait, I'm a BP"