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Nov. 29th, 2011

candle hand 2

silvershe_wolf

Flame.

Surely any room
could be turned into a shrine
when all electric is off
and only candles remain.

No rituals are needed,
or rehearsed, reheard words.
No sacred positions,
no hallowed, worshipped names.

Only you.
You and the flames.
Flickering and calming
you back to your heart.

Do you know your own pain?
Have you held it in your arms?
Like a child that’s been crying
for weeks? For months? For years?

Let the candle light flicker,
their light has seen all pain;
century after century
seen us cry and bleed and pray.

Hold it all and offer
your suffering to the flames.
Stay with them and feel.
And if you need to, say.

Then breathe in
the silence.
It’s only you
and them…

and all the world’s
suffering,
lighting
up your shrine.

They say that when you cry,
that you cry alone.
The candles beg to differ.
Let their light remain.
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Nov. 27th, 2011

Ayea

goddess_help_me

Pill bottles

I made these from my mom's discarded nitro bottles (glass with a screw top), covered in polymer clay, with a wire loop so they can be put on a chain to wear as a pendant, or on a key chain. Personally, I'm going to use one to hold a dose of emergency relief medicine.


Oct. 28th, 2011

pen

silvershe_wolf

Endless Dreams

A poem I wrote recently, inspired by this picture. 

Endless Dreams

I hold the smallest tree upon my palm.
Its leaves are white as if the snow had kissed
each branch and left it pure. But though it’s white
and cold as ice. There is no life. There is no snow.
 
Each blade of grass. Each flower, each tree. Has long
lost the life it had. This land that once was green
and young, and full of song, and fur, and flight,
is now a barren mist of white. It stands;
 
a withered ghost, in time.
 
Outside these grounds, life carries on. The birds
still sing on trees that dance. I hear their song
from far away, some days, I listen beyond
my pain. I close my eyes and see their beaks,
 
their breasts, their wings, their brightened eyes, and for
a moment, feel their joy. But this is life.
It grows, it thrives, suffers, and dies. Have I
not seen the flower die? Have I not seen
 
the sickened cry?
 
I touch the tree upon my palm, and put
it down on white-filled ground. Each fragile leaf,
each shrunken branch, sways on roots that reach
no more. Falls and freezes on the floor.
 
But night is coming closer now. I must
retreat and wait for day. Then try again
to breathe and feel, this whitened land, this withered
life, and stop this clinging to these trees.
 
Stop this clinging to these dreams.
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Jul. 22nd, 2011

pen

silvershe_wolf

In the Silence

I have finally written a new poem. I have struggled a great deal with doing anything creative for a while now, and am honestly unsure of how good this is as I feel so rusty when it comes to creative writing. But here it is.

In the Silence

She hides from day
And lives the night,
Her paws betray
Her padded steps.

She slinks through gardens,
Alleys, gates.
She hides from streetlight,
Drinks the dark.

Her silent grace
Knows each step
Away from humans,
Buildings, noise.

A shadow; black,
Unseen, unknown.
Her eyes glisten,
Await her moon.

A final crack
In wooded fence,
She crawls, and stretches,
Licks the trees.

Her quiet sea
Of grass, of green,
Caress’ whiskers,
talons, fur.

She rolls and mews
And takes her moon,
And lies in silver
Soft, serene.

The night flows gently
Heart is calm.
She feels the silence,
sky, the stars.

And here she feels
The earth, the air,
Beating in her
Soft and pure.

Til eyes move gently
Remember time,
The coming sunrise
Threatens her eyes.

Back through woodland
Through the fence,
Back through the gardens,
Alleys, gates.

She must return
Before the sun
Burns through her fur,
Her paws, her tail.

She shuffles in
The urban house,
Pads through the cravings,
Hunger, strife.

She climbs the stairs
Into the room,
Heartbeat racing
As the light

Slowly sets
Her fur aflame.
Awakes in hands.
In skin.

In life.


I'm not sure if people prefer poetry to speak for itself, or whether they prefer a little explanation.

For those who prefer the latter...Collapse )
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May. 22nd, 2011

Rabbit [Doubt] Who am I?

uncreative_user

(no subject)

I don't know if this counts, but I wanted to post it.
While I am a writer, when I'm in pain I can't really write. The only thing that seems to keep me sane is editing Anime Music Videos. I made one the other night as a vent and I wanted to post it here.
So... Here it is.

May. 8th, 2011

pen

silvershe_wolf

Case Study

I think many sufferers experience a lack of sympathy or care from their doctor or therapist at some point, and feel dismayed by it. You can end up feeling like a 'case study', not a real human being, suffering a great deal of pain/fatigue/distress. This is a poem I wrote a while back, about this very experience:

Case Study

Immovable distance
You tease:
Appearing so close,
Yet I cannot touch.

Just frozen,
Time in a snowdome,
I shake
The bitter core.

Covered in sweet lies;
It's your eyes,
They never hear,
Only whisper soft secrets

Not for my ears.
But I echo,
This empty room,
Sharp scented contradiction.

You're here
But who are you?
I reach out,
And I fall.
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Apr. 16th, 2011


lulu_rose

yey I made some new things!

Cut for huge imagesCollapse )

Apr. 14th, 2011

Creative colourful

ladywillin

Creative icons

Inspired by this community I@ve made a set of 'creative' icons

Teasers:



Here at samylin

Apr. 7th, 2011


lulu_rose

My craft venture

Cut Cut Cut ^_^Collapse )

Apr. 6th, 2011


awolfcalledskya

Another Clip

 >.> Two posts in a row! 
I was going to forgo it, but I really can't resist posting this up. Scene amused me a fair deal. 

Read more...Collapse )
 
 
Rattled Drandez is not a common sight, so it was very fun to write him like that. 
 

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