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2 CorinthiansIf I speak in human and angelic tongues but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal.
If I speak in foreign and local tongues but do not have love, I am an emitting radio or a static television.
And if I have the gift of prophecy and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge; if I have all faith so as to move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing.
And if I have the job of protection and loyalty of all body and of all knowledge; if I have all honesty so as to stand through trails but do not have love, I am meaningless.
If I give away everything I own, and if I hand my body over so that I may boast but do not have love, I gain nothing.
If I give all that I have, and if I give what rightfully is mine so that I have but an empty shell but do not have love, I win nothing
Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, (love) is not pompous, it is not inflated,
Love is fiery, love is wild. It is not tranquil, it is not presumptuous,
66. TrapI, take you, for my lawful wife,
Are these those famous last words
That I have heard?
To have and to hold,
Does this bond us togehter
With a solid ball and chain?
From this day forward,
Is it truely forever and ever
or can we be parted?
For better, for worse,
Why is it always we must
be together in worse?
For richer, for poorer,
Can we withhold the idea
and never be poorer?
In sickness and in health,
Is it true we are in this when ill
am I expected to take care of you?
Until death do us part.
That is like forever,
What God has joined, men must not divide
Take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
65. HorrorIt is a dark night,
It is a long road,
But the temptation of home
and a long deserved warm meal.
He is a traveler
He is a nomad
But something drives him
and she is a true love.
The journey is vast
The weather is torture
But the wind's at his back
and he travels lightly.
But the night is young
and there are miles to go.
He never makes it home
And she dies a widow.
64. MultitaskingCellular and mobile devices
Laptops, desktops, web books
iPods, Mp3's, and digital radios
In this world all Medias are fair game
And make multi tasking as easy as it once was
To find a horse and carriage.
One FamilyQuiet in our thoughts
Laughter is not far behind
Somber in our stature
Dancing is not too concealed
Tragic with our losses
Mourning will vanish in the morrow
Lost with our pain
Rejoicing will return to us
For even in death
We are united
TraitorYou are a traitor,
Vile and a hater,
Who had my trust
Now crushed to dust!
What is your motive,
What did I not give,
To secure our bond?
Was I the one conned?
Well I really think
That YOU broke our link.
In the end YOU lied,
Cast our ties aside!
I offered up my all,
Was behind your every fall,
You mostly did the same,
But it was just a sick game!
You are the traitor,
The vile hater.
I’m no longer serving,
Ditch someone deserving!
ApocalypseThe gloves are off,
the tribal flags unfurled.
No matter the cost,
as each invective hurled,
no matter sanity,
or if it helps or hurts,
win at any cost,
each meme that spurts
a tick on the score card.
How easy it was
to bring us to this place -
God? Satan? not really.
This catastrophe wears
a human face.
untainted and pure
white as snow
can they endure
turning to grey
whatever you say
I don't think pure
is the word anymore
tainted and grey
turning to black
this is the price you pay
for the life you live
covered in sin
the dark ground
hiding and waiting
can't hear a sound
my senses have left me
darker than coal
tainted and dirty
evil and bad
before I'm thirty
50 DaysOn the first day she was blinded by the light
On the second day she put up a fight
On the third day she learned how to love
On the fourth day a hand she took hold of
On the fifth day she did nothing at all
On the sixth day she learned how to crawl
On the seventh day to school she went
On the eighth day she fell to the cement
On the ninth day her baby clothes she outgrew
On the tenth day let go of your hand too
On the eleventh day she got sick
On the twelfth day she learned a card trick
On the thirteenth day she looked more like her mother
On the fourteenth day she made friends with others
On the fifteenth day you got her a phone
On the sixteenth day you left her home alone
On the seventh day she graduated school
On the eighteenth day she learned the world was cruel
On the nineteenth she felt so alone
On the twentieth day she just wanted to go home
On the twenty-first day she began to cry
On the twenty-second day he wanted to die
On the twenty-third day she pulled through
On the twenty-
ParanoiaIn your time,
terrible things may happen
which to your life
cause untold destruction.
These horrific events
will put you through hell,
but you can get back up
and live your life well.
Or can you?
Perhaps those events
linger on in your head
and you feel
a permanent sense of dread
and every action
that ever will occur
you fear will destroy
your life forever.
Or will it?
Eventually, you don't know
what to think anymore.
You don't know if that's your spouse
or a lying, cheating whore.
You embrace the thought
that all that is around you
and is out to get you.
Or is it?
AddictIs that a challenge?
No really, I want to know,
I'm addicted to struggle and harsh words fill my syringe,
I dope up and then I'm ready to go,
Lost in a daze of hallucinations that won't stay, so I binge,
Praying this insanity never lets me go.
Is that a challenge?
I could quit any time I want,
but quitters never win and I'm winning everything,
Though I may lack the sophistication other junkies flaunt,
I am just as unpredictable as the real thing,
So I dare you, I double dare you to give me a taunt.
Worldly Ways, Worldly WoesWorldly Ways, Worldly Woes
Go forth, my son, into our world.
Know its ways and means
Keep your wit and mind alert
Keep your heart clean
Watch everything and every man
Decide to part or follow
Stay awake and await the chance
You'll know both joy and sorrow
So I went to university
I got my degree and went abroad
I hoped that life abroad would make me free
Indeed it should
But though i am free I feel regret
For the thought of freedom remains unlike between men
Some think that it gives them right
To interfere with others' rights
That primes them for a fight
And in the end
It gives me blues in the night
Beautiful DemonAs we approach the end of the season,
I fail to understand the reason,
of why such a beautiful demon,
would renounce his precious freedom.
Waiting at the top of the hill,
i asked the demon "Why are you standing still?",
and slowly turning his eyes, a bit black, a bit red,
he told that he was already dead,
but his tears were only of joy:
for him, time could no longer destroy.
63. Do Not DisturbProprium humani ingenii est odisse quem laeseris -
For we the wrong forget to admit our wrongs;
Failure for us to forgive the ones we have hurt.
I who hurt those around me, wish to how to forgive.
Perfer et obdura; dolor hic tibi proderit olim-
There are only so many layers of epidermis one slice is all it takes;
It opens up the wonderful life that makes me a worse person.
I who feel pain now wish to grow to no longer see pain as an outlet
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
Blood BrothersBrookie always holds my hand when we cross the street. She's never given a reason for it, she just does it. It's become this unspoken rule with us that whenever we cross the street together, she slips her hand in mine and I lace my fingers through hers and we walk hand-in-hand until we reach the other side and she drops her hand and we both wipe our palms on our jeans. Brookie's a little scared of crossing the street. Her poppa died in a car crash when we were six. He was a pedestrian. She's never gotten over it.
Brookie is my best friend going on sixteen years now, which is pretty impressive considering we're both sixteen. We don't have some cute little story about how we were born in the same hospital on the same day or about how our mothers were best friends long before they were pregnant with us and somehow passed on that bond while we were still in utero. No, Brookie and I met the same way ever
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
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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