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Point Counter-PointArthur bellows botched operatics on the stoop of a bank at a busy intersection every afternoon. I've watched him, how his face shrivels and his voice floods out. Time to time people may throw him a penny or dime. He performs and the sidewalk collages gray suits with pollka dot dresses, small dogs led with red leashes, others like us telling sob stories, in range of Arthur's singing.Point Counter-Point
I saw Arthur whistling
when he stepped over my legs as I sat on the pavement helplessly waiting for a dollar or maybe some crew to straighten up these streets.
by ~aroseisaroseisarose
Yellow LinesA Butterfly Bound to black asphalt furiously beating wings striving, a yellow chaosYellow Lines
and perchance a storm at sea, now in the grooves of a wheel.
Red splatters and white splinters roll in form from sputters, are fragile features: lips touched gently crush.
by ~aroseisaroseisarose
Where It All StartsWhen people ask me where I’m from, I usually pause, think for a second and then only hesitantly give an answer. “I’m not really from any one place,” is my typical response. I was born in southern California in the relentless heat of late July, but my family packed up and moved to the Midwest, leaving my birthplace and a potential definite answer to the “where are you from?” question a thousand miles behind. “What do you mean you’re not from anywhere?” My parents once asked me privately after they heard me give someone this answer. My parents wereWhere It All Starts
by ~aroseisaroseisarose
Social LifeI ConversationsSocial Life
A bed of moss underneath a worm Nudges his way across in torn Dirt where others have nudged. Below the thin cushion the green Blanket covers the once teeming From the undone quilt above.
II Relationships
She didn’t care, where she had been, He was, caring, about statements, When, they were, the azaleas Weren’t, blooming. Thin branches Pushed over the dirt road their arched skeletal arms with green trinkets
unmoving in a stiff wind.
Pink, red, and yellow pedals had bled Lightly over
by ~aroseisaroseisarose
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: Charleston
- deviantWEAR sizing preference: SM
- Interests: reading writing talking biking tennising camping
- Favourite movie: Annie Hall, My Girl Friday, Lost in Translation, the Godfather, Manhatten, Amelie, La Strada, 8 1/2
- Favourite band or musician: too many to list
- Favourite genre of music: Indie, Folk, 60's-70's pop, Ambient, Jazz, Classical
- Favourite artist: Not sure yet. Maybe Cezanne, Degas, Rothko and/or Van Gogh.
- Favourite poet or writer: Too many individuals, but my favorite era is Modern.
- Operating System: XP
- MP3 player of choice: iPod
- Tools of the Trade: Pencil & Paper
- AIM: Valete Fatalibus
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"What was the start of all this? When did the cogs of fate begin to turn?
Perhaps it is impossible to grasp that answer now, From deep within the flow of time…" - Chrono Cross
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"What was the start of all this? When did the cogs of fate begin to turn?
Perhaps it is impossible to grasp that answer now, From deep within the flow of time…" - Chrono Cross
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Ich benutze ausschließlich gratis Licht!
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