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LaundromatThe Laundromat at 79th and Jackson was underneath a Chinese restaurant, so the place always stunk of detergent and sweet and sour sauce. During the day, it was packed with people from the Arts District and the Business District. Other people rarely showed up to wash their clothes at two AM. John liked the quiet, when it was just him and the low hum of the machine. Besides, if he came during regular hours, he'd have to weave his wheelchair through people shuffling from one machine to the other, dodging laundry baskets and children fidgeting next to their mothers. John's nose wrinkled as he separated his clothes into the washers. Tightey whiteys went to the left, shirts to the front, troublesome jeans to the right. It was so difficult to pull denim over his thin, thin legs, but it was worth it if people didn't stare at his knees. John was a man who lived in t-shirts and jeans. Washing clothes was simple, except the machines were taller than his wheelchair, so John had to reach up to drop
Hot Hotter Hot Hottest IntroMy balls were sticking to my inner thigh like a baby seal clinging to an Antarctic shore. Unfortunately, the camera was pointed right at me, so I couldn't do the leg-shake maneuver to get them loose. I saw the set of Hello, Good Morning! with Buster through two pea-sized holes drilled into my velvet helmet. Crayola had puked on the walls, the floor, the blocks, the rug, and even Buster. That was me, the rainbow-colored dog that came up on TV from dawn til noon. Outside of Busters Play Pen was the black, soulless collection of cameras and producers and directors sitting in fold-up chairs who occasionally yelled me through a microphone like I wasnt right in front of them. The sweat permeated in the depths of my fur suit because the air was recycled every time I exhaled. I re-realized how much I hated doing kid shows. Being on a childrens program was just like being in a porno; as soon you were recorded, no one could take your acting serious
you're the reason for my fraying edgesA piece of me snagged
on your fingertips, now
I'm spending the rest
of my life unraveling
About a girl(French version below)
Naiad, braving the tumultuous streams without risk
Your crystalline beauty illuminates these shabby, spineless and muddy reeds,
The softness of your skin like a caress that even the sea air couldn't bring me;
Oh My, I'd like to snatch this ivy leaf which covers you way too much!
I accomplished the most perilous labour just by staring at you;
My Hesperide, your breathtakingly high curves entice this pilgrim, blinded mortal,
And force naked and fool men to carry their own Iliad out to conquer you.
The singing of your voice shall guide us through this long, calm watercourse to the Elysium.
Your smile, forbidden sin, makes me break all my oathes.
For a brief moment, I vow to let myself be fooled by these pipe dreams of fantasy -
I want to dedicate this lyric song you've inspired me to the Gods, Polyhymnia,
You got me sailing on the river of dreams.
About a girl
Naïade, bravant sans péril les flots tumultueux
Seeing GhostsBefore the mirror she is seated,
the beauty that she sees before her
confounds her hesitant gaze.
Her reflection too
seems to keep her eyes averted,
as though she also possessed
the gift of sight, liveliness
of mind. Sentient she might be
and see too clearly how
that captivating face
had only eyes and love for her,
who was only a figment,
the stuff of unreality!
Both gazers blinded by their vision,
by eyes much too expressive,
by the ache of unattainable yearning
- much too intense for either gaze to meet.
My Dark OneMeet me near the
Drape me in your
Only you can give
Never forget our
PermanenceNot a day goes by that I do not think if you. That I do not wish to hold you close and never let go. I never thought I'd be so happy. So happy and in love. So joyful in life.
You've changed me for the better in more ways than you could ever know.
It'd probably take an eternity to explain how much I love you. I couldn't express said emotions. The feeling of longing and devotion rather well. The feeling of never wanting to let go.
I've never been one for sappy love letters and long winding esoteric lectures ,yet I'm writing this. I'm a walking contradiction.
I've never been one for romantic things , yet my words are flowing through my veins so poeticly. Like an electric current of passion. A sea of never ending happiness.
You're the only person who could make me feel this way.
I long to embrace you more than life itself. Without you ,my heart has no meaning. It beats as I breathe. It beats with a feverish pace. An unwilling desire to never end.
Guardian AngelLet me kiss your heart,
to take all your pain away.
Let me hug you
to make you feel safe.
Let me kiss your eyes,
to drink your tears and wipe them away.
Let me touch your soul,
and fill it with my love.
Let me be your only guardian angel,
ready to protect you till the end.
just like the starsstars
so far away
countless diamonds scattered across the skies
silver-eyed and peacefull
if you watch them from afar
just like you
if I love you from afar
you are just like them
in your embrace I am burning
slowly dissolving in torches of your
and I have no one else to blame
Six Short Poems from a Very Late Night1.
to a large stuffed bear;
I hold it close
because I wish you could be here.
Why can't I
let go of our past;
I should've known
that nothing could last.
I fall asleep
and I dream again;
but the days have long passed
since we'd met our end.
Wanting to pull you close
into my arms;
I want to hear your heartbeat
palm to palm.
The touch of your lips
slowly fades away;
The love we had,
turns to tones of grey.
I wish we could revive
the love we had started;
But everything has it's end
and you have departed.
Midnight SnacksI hope that my leaving is just a minor hurt
Yet knowing that worse leads to worse
And how fretting multiplies, but starts inert
I will remind you of what we have with verse
Our love is like an ice box that sits bold
In the corner of a kitchen, dormant and hushed
A warm lifeline feeding and keeping the insides cold
Even as it works at its own pace, never rushed
The best goodbye would be in the boxs back
Taken only when loneliness paints the dark skies
Then, it would be drawn from the very last rack
Like a pint of rocky road in Comfort Me size
So I say, with love entwined in lines and feet
Despite the curving paths that fate has drawn
Despite the yards and miles, we are complete.
Remember me whenever the little bulb turns on.
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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