What were words worth?
In tiny staccato whispers, petulant tones,
a bravado of guffaws,
were words worthy?
Convey they not my heart, my mind,
translate from mental state that which I'd have you know, grok, groot?
But try I do, and syllables drip, and slip, and in spastic play, attempt to guess,
SED A GIVE?
What would I, if I could, in your heart and slumbered dreams, give you to show, give you to know, grok, groot?
But in art, in feline purr, in glance or moment, song or sigh
at the end as always
I try
Grok, Groot?
He dances dark, this Lord of Song
words in winters whispers
and stillness brings
hat in hand and smile
wicked so
but you already knew that din't ya?
Value clasped set in locked
heart of chance and workshops art
blow me cold through and still I am you
together moment a glance
the blending of where
sublimated are
thoughts shared
a presence
lasting the lifespan
of a snowflake
Swiss cheese mind
holes in the whole
sometimes y'know
just enough, a fourth wall
broken
like a one season hit
words on lips on screen
in between my life
episodes of space
a cliche true
but not the "Truth" some must share
just you and me
sitting alone, together there
Cheers
Cyberdyne, Heterodyne, clandestine,
I write
presupposition, inquisition, superstition
membranes away on a simple string
no fate but what we make,
create
a dinosaur to test the will,
faith
and never we touch
but vibrate
electrons in orbits so close
but never we touch
immaterial we full of space
vast darkness in this dance
motion
learn to be as light
neither here nor there
but in all places at once
know we so much
and so little
And scream I, into the black.
not i, but I.
With a voice my own, what left to say?
Love that fails, love that lives
Love that is.
I would that I had heart to love all,
heart and time and time,
time to learn to fly
just don't fly in anything with a Corson 38, they'll fall right out of the sky
I intend
to live, to discover, to uncover, to watch
to learn
to touch
gods to touch, ah Gods!
feel
all the beauty, even the pain,
and find the truth.
not what people say, that is often only partly true
but Truth
the neurotic, quixotic Truth that is
to your own self be true, or at least I suppose
be prepared to be true
try to be true
Hands be blessed
abilities useful
be used
dreams fly
hope endures
given to loss
'verse turns round again
bound again
to drive on
Avis, Ted, loss of loved
what cry I to say?
what moves the message to deliver?
given to heart
given my heart
joy in wholeness
in singular slumber
stillness
still
movements
and the music of soft moans
simply to remind
life to live
In reflections moment,
Sapphic insight.
Past is where it chooses
Present where you choose
Future yet chosen
for all the moments
there, then, now
whispered to you
becoming lovely
because of you
becoming you.
Softly beneath silken locks
a brush'd and blushing skin
neck and ear flow to lips
tender kissed by passing whim
encircling arms gently press
binding loves creation
fingertips to subtle bliss
under moonlight's proclamation
held so free as bodies trace
that ancient primal dance
gently now and slowly grace
this most seductive trance
beat the tempo of the soul
to come so high again
the single darkest piece of coal
was what the diamond once had been
divide confine lines
within this little realm
a heart beats .. bleeds
sappy but true
love is pain, highness
anyone who tells you otherwise
is lying through their teeth
find my heart, I can't seem to find it
did i misplace it again?
how to feel without feeling
how to love without
this merry go round
around again
this dance I've felt before
but not so close with someone
who could give/tries to give
who? what I am to give up?
confusion, dissillusion
dissolution
bad poetry pours forth
maybe this will make a daily deviation?
my pain, your pleasure
the ultimate in
masochism
In story book pages, spaces
I've lost the dream.
A brickyard of thought drifted, deserted
a concrete path beaten down, ground in.
Memories, the roadkill of choice,
dissected, stripped, no fur left, no softer side.
Malcontent, a jungle wrought, iron and steel,
in a world, that steals freedom.
Pretend it exists, go ahead and try.
Divided are perceptions, recollections
superficial angst.
Nevermind the when how and why
lost are the excuses, illusions.
It never mattered anyway.
Roaring on, life will go, ravenous unforgiving
with or without your pity, your hopes, your thoughts.
Know yourself or not, truth or not, joy or not
late fe
What were words worth?
In tiny staccato whispers, petulant tones,
a bravado of guffaws,
were words worthy?
Convey they not my heart, my mind,
translate from mental state that which I'd have you know, grok, groot?
But try I do, and syllables drip, and slip, and in spastic play, attempt to guess,
SED A GIVE?
What would I, if I could, in your heart and slumbered dreams, give you to show, give you to know, grok, groot?
But in art, in feline purr, in glance or moment, song or sigh
at the end as always
I try
Grok, Groot?
He dances dark, this Lord of Song
words in winters whispers
and stillness brings
hat in hand and smile
wicked so
but you already knew that din't ya?
Value clasped set in locked
heart of chance and workshops art
blow me cold through and still I am you
together moment a glance
the blending of where
sublimated are
thoughts shared
a presence
lasting the lifespan
of a snowflake
lingering.. wanting.. wishing..
all for naught..
wasting.. starving.. missing..
and you are caught..
puppeteer strings tie you up..
make you dance..
"I'm sorry"
and you move to the left..
"I'm done"
and you dance to the right..
fitful tears
cause you to pirouette down the stage..
run puppet
dance puppet
laugh, leap, love..
all within your strings..
we are one with the user..
we are the strings..
until we see them..
cut strings puppet..
cut strings puppet..
little limp lost puppet..
angry little puppet..
who wishes to dance his own song..
hurt little puppet..
who now can see..
time to heal puppet..
strings are y
pats window's pain
exercise in suspended disbelief
lone eyelet to world
silver metal clasps
minutia of each beings view
becomes each beings trap
yet so expanded are some, that
illusion fails to bring enchantment
and forevermore some sort of naivity shed
like rainbow luster
dimmed by descriptions of light-wave theory
are you yet dreaming? are you yet being?
sweet princess of angels..
world comes to claim thee..
to take thee away..
chang'd forever
knowing what is coming
knowing what will be
but still for a moment
how precarious is seems
tipped cystalline span of time
finite
improvised ivy new on the vine
subtly lost
the greatest thing.. you'll ever learn..
is just to love.. and be loved..
in return..
sigh..
romantic thoughts sweet loves song..
a movie.. a poem.. (that hits you so hard.. )
a thought, a theme..
a rambling vivid dream..
a spiral stardust staircase..
a scintillating sensation..
turquoise turmoil
delicious design...
alone lovely notes pour out..
each seperate unearthly sound..
ringing through skull of bronze..
cast heavy of a mortal mold..
crumbling leaves .. crackling time..
finished work.. unfinished lives..
in this moment.. is truth finally perfect..
all is right with the world.
hadn't seen him in over a month.. I blew off our last date...
how could I do this to some one who knows me so intimately..
someone who has pierced my flesh with a thousand tiny needle strokes?..
someone for whom I willingly return.. avidly await his most painful touch?.
How could I have thought it over?.. how could I have hidden so long from him?
Some people have a shrink.. some even a bartender .. most have friends but do they understand?.. why you go back.. why inflict such pain on yourself?.. why let another human send that shock of sheer physical torment through your soul and down your spine?
Am I perverse that I follow it so..
childrens cry.. scream metal strings..
sweat pours down me.. mingled salty tears..
scars... vision blurs as it reaches my eyes..
coldly impassionately .. kick kick kick punch..
sweat coats me.. listen to them whimper.. listen.. and know..
this goes on.. out there the pain is real..
out there.. it happens.. again and again..
body will not obey.. breath comes raspy..
can not help. can not understand..
powerless
fighting..
trying ..
running running
body falls.. slumps down... sweaty dirty
deep notes cover the pain.. cover the crys..
music surrounds.. and I feel only what is so loud..
what I cannot hear.. can only liste
i almost wish i could say it hit me like a wall..
but no.. it was more insidious,
did it come as a shock,
did my heart skip and stop
palms sweating in supplication for a mistake of the presses
some tragic lovelorn last minute revalation..
but no.. it was not
it was something that slunk its way into my life..
much the same way you did
i realize
this.. awareness...
apathy runs her room temperature fingers over my flesh
and i am not aroused, clinically, insignificantly,
i find today the carcass of a fictioned love,
ties his lacking-soul to another
i almost wish i could say it mattered,
because then if it did,
what i though
bury the account in a field of potatoes :P by Stjepan-Sejic, journal
bury the account in a field of potatoes :P
so as you may have noticed, i've planted some potatoes here as i didn't want to fully erase the long history of this account. why did i do this? deviantart's enthusiasm about and experimentation with ai generators is a hard pass for me. there are other reasons but this one kinda broke the camel's back what does that mean for sunstone? nothing really. it along other comics will be delivered regularly on my patreon with the queen and the woodborn and maybe even achilles shieldmaidens being made available via my webtoons account for now sunstone i will probably move to pixiv, twitter and tumblr all the relevant links added below patreon https://www.patreon.com/shiniebezial webtoon https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/the-queen-and-the-woodborn/list?title_no=502306 twitter https://twitter.com/stjepansejic tumblr pixiv https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/36412059 facebook https://www.facebook.com/stjepan.sejic/ instagram https://www.instagram.com/stjepansejic/ that's about it
Softly beneath silken locks
a brush'd and blushing skin
neck and ear flow to lips
tender kissed by passing whim
encircling arms gently press
binding loves creation
fingertips to subtle bliss
under moonlight's proclamation
held so free as bodies trace
that ancient primal dance
gently now and slowly grace
this most seductive trance
beat the tempo of the soul
to come so high again
the single darkest piece of coal
was what the diamond once had been
Current Residence: the 'verse Favourite genre of music: old/new/slow/fast/powerful/weak/ anything that i can feel Favourite photographer: 5yearcheddar and stormclouds Operating System: Caffeine IV Shell of choice: My Chelle~ Wallpaper of choice: duckies and bunnies.. for little johnny Skin of choice: tattoed + pierced Favourite cartoon character: Schmendrick, Gorbash, and Dot Personal Quote: there are no happy endings.. because nothing ever ends..
Favourite Visual Artist
Dr. Suess
Favourite Movies
Hedwig,MoulinRouge,ThePirateMovie,Nimh,
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Jonathan Coulton, DaVinci's Notebook, too many to list
It's been a while, and words still come, some about varied subject and some just perhaps updating what once was into what I might be now. I'm not sure, as always, but can't think of a reason I shouldn't express myself in any and all formats that make...
insipid flowers
colored pompadours of light
vex my dark no more
yet in thought i slip
dwell in naught but time alone
as dimensions drift
fractured sight a view
diamond reflections peer
in heart pure repose
You are welcome! Hopefully the feeling good and well will come sooner rather then later. Besides a sick you means less lovely pictures, and that is just wrong.
No kidding, I can't believe how long I've been really out of it... sheesh I missed this place, and the way it was, but then, it will be the way it is, and I just want to keep writing, not to forget that part as well.