Singularity-of-Verse

Tesla

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Twenty-One by Singularity-of-Verse, literature

Literature

Twenty-One

Two arms to hold me tight Two hands to touch me right Two lips kiss me goodnight Two legs, manly and strong Two feet carry him along One voice bursts into song Two eyes look into mine One heart, sweet and divine One ass... and isn't it fine! Two ears listen to me One head, smart as could be One soul that sets me free One man for me, a gift from above One Chris... twenty-one things that I love.

Cloud Daze by Singularity-of-Verse, literature

Resting by Singularity-of-Verse, literature

Literature

Resting

We'll all be old one day, we'll all get there some way, Where we'll say "I remember when the world burned; I remember when it was iced, too." And all the people still young and worried will look at Us in silence, afraid of their own voices. I remember the respect and grief. I can't speak against... your old. Oh, please free me from this mystery. Don't let me slip away. Just tell me if I'm wrong. I'm a child still, and I can be corrected. I'm a person too, you know, and don't be afraid to humanize me. I know no more than you, I'm just closer to the end. I didn't ask for worship. I don't need a friend.

Last Winter Morning by Singularity-of-Verse, literature

Birthday by Singularity-of-Verse, literature

words by Singularity-of-Verse, literature

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words

Tiny soldiers, marching across pages of books, paddle-boat-racing up glowering monitors and then blurring back down. Loitering in and around buildings, hanging precariously from street signs or skydiving from billboards like everyday good-for-nothings. Congregations of letters, social clubs, if you will. Sipping tea in church magazines, back-flipping in chat rooms. Trafficked through the air like cars and firetrucks, some grazing cheeks, others slapping ears. Troves of meaning, expression, rhythm and color. Painting, molding stenographers of the world. Universal shorthand for what is simply too blustery too nascent to

Midnight currents by Singularity-of-Verse, literature

Shall I Compare Thee... by Singularity-of-Verse, literature

Literature

Shall I Compare Thee...

Shall I compare thee to a housefly? Thou art more bothersome and more greedy, To win my love - which is so high - It seems to make you oh so needy. And while you're eager to have your love returned, I avoid you at all costs. You're now upset to have learned I don't love you at all, you little snot! So now with you not talking to me I'm really quite easygoing. But you still send me gifts and money Even though my love isn't showing. Learn to love someone who loves you back, Else all love offered receives a smack.

Poetry, Thought, and Time by Singularity-of-Verse, literature

Literature

Poetry, Thought, and Time

Poetry is quite an exacting art, With rules for syllables, rhyme, and meter; Strict like ballet, not free like theater. So how can one truly express one's heart? The human spirit, it seems to me, Is complex and dynamic full of life - Burns with rage, melts with tears, molded by strife - Lacking all structure, only meant to be. So, if poetry conveys emotions, Is its impression restricted by words? Is language but ideas fenced like cattle herds? And only the mind can cope with free notions? But thoughts have no common speech, no rhyme... Making poetry less of a waste of time.

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Virgin Verse by Singularity-of-Verse, literature

Blue, Light, dust by Singularity-of-Verse, literature

Literature

Blue, Light, dust

As I sit here in my room listening to the poems of Jewel, my window wide open and my teeth cracked, but not shattered... Rosalind, you seem so far away now. and yet so close. You aren't sitting in repose in the forest of Mind anymore. yet your tears course through every cell in my body, and you have given me that missing part of my soul. You said the knotted rope against Silas's back hurt you, too. you couldn't read the book. Why? fleeting glimpes of the lonely lake, and your reflection in the bench, and the pond. van gogh is quiet and cut. Rosalind, where are you really,

van Gogh by Singularity-of-Verse, literature

Literature

van Gogh

I could see the paint, running down the beige canvas in thick, fumey runnels, yellows, greens, and blues, melting off the museum walls artists spared ten-second emotions to cover. The colors, applied in furious waves, spilling, flooding down, back into their buckets, onto the old brushes. I left them out to dry. Claude used the pails to fill up his pond with lilies.

Starry Night by Singularity-of-Verse, literature

Literature

Starry Night

Whenever I feel lonely, lost at sea in a solitary sailboat on an ocean of kind, misunderstanding faces; whenever I feel anger consuming me, boiling paint and kicked over cans; whenever it feels as if the whole world is in harmony and I have no reason not to be... I run to the old, deserted park with the bench by the pond. In the reflection, I am gazing up at a shimmering starry night sky from a hill with flame-shaped trees, overlooking a small, pleasant village. Another frustrated soul sits on the grass a few yards in front of me, unknowing of my presence.

The House by Singularity-of-Verse, literature

Literature

The House

It was large, very much like a square in shape, Wide and open. With plenty of room for everyone. And, despite the number of people and noisy voices, the overall sound of the house always seemed quiet. Really quiet, but a pleasant, soft quiet. As if the house itself was asleep all the time. A nice, semi-deep sleep with dreams of large, green trees and blue sky. Sometimes with a lone, white, fluffy cloud. And the ocean - the house reminded me of the silent shallow bottom of the ocean not far from a soft-sanded beach. With maybe a little clump of seaweed here and there, a shy clam. I

The Poet Speaks.... by Singularity-of-Verse, literature

Literature

The Poet Speaks....

Today the world is beautiful shining bright and blue. Children play on the sidewalkds, dogs run in the park. The old men finish their chess game, as a car slowly passes down the street. The air is warm, free from clouds and chill. The town is its own little world this Saturday - nothing else exists. Today is a day of rest - a day without war or politics or wealth. Today is happening only here. The trees reach up to thesky, the houses and buildings block out the rest of the world. Time is in a closed box. And I, the poet, sit in contemplation under the tallest tree. Sometimes, life is more enjoyable when you lo

Funny Hat Day by Singularity-of-Verse, literature

Literature

Funny Hat Day

Funny faces, silly hair, crazy clothes and underwear Are nothing when compared to that which sits on top - a funky hat.

Morning Cycles by Singularity-of-Verse, literature

Literature

Morning Cycles

How quietly the day always begins, The sun rising among dim morning stars; The darknewss of the nighttime heavens thins, masking rising Venus and setting Mars. Outside, groups of dawn birds chirp and flutter And dogs stretch and yaw as they awaken. Inside, small meals of toast and butter, And cereal, by sleepyheads are taken. Newspapers from sidewalks are being grabbed, Thousands take showers, hundreds drink their tea, Alarm clock "snooze" buttons are being jabbed, Many are greeting the day, including me. Life is moving once again, and by noon, Morning has passed, but will be back quite soon.

Song of the Galaxies by Singularity-of-Verse, literature

Literature

Song of the Galaxies

An explosion of stars falls to my lips from the cosmic heavens above and they turn to lush, pink rose petals. Swimming in the sparkling waters of immortality - Beyond the reach of feeling a blue-grey maiden swims beside me, with delicate flukes and a dolphin grin. Rain of the forest sprinkles on the upturned palms of my hands, fresh of green life and love they turn to tears on cheeks so fair and soft. Embraced in light so golden white, it covers and soothes all who touch so skin and soul may be at last renewed.

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This Poem's for You by Nobodylikesemail, literature

Literature

This Poem's for You

My mind's not a canyon Directing my words Down a beautiful scenic path Without even the slightest effort Instead the words pool My mind fills with caverns of thought Before they finally spill And even as they pour Down and down and down They sometimes never find Not even a crevice Nothing at all To guide their flow They just spread without direction Without purpose But not today Today I write for you.

Deviation Spotlight

words by Singularity-of-Verse, literature

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words

Singularity-of-Verse

About Singularity-of-Verse

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United States
Deviant for 17 years
She / Her

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My Bio

Favourite genre of music: Classic Rock
Favourite photographer: ~elizabomb
Skin of choice: I like my skin. It keeps out bacteria. And black skin is really pretty.
Personal Quote: "If you had to beautiful to survive, all the ugly people would've died out by now."

Favourite Visual Artist

Monet, ~Violent-Insomnia... well, I appreciate most people's art

Favourite Movies

Cable Guy, Minority Report, Contact, 2001, The Fountain, Stranger than Fiction, Spinal Tap

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

The White Stripes, The Beatles, Talking Heads, Pink Floyd, Andrew Bird, etc.

Favourite Writers

Billy Collins, Dan Brown, JK Rowling, Philip Pullman, Douglas Adams, Carl Sagan, myself...yo.

Tools of the Trade

~Pencil stuck in hair~

Other Interests

"Space and shit" (so I guess that covers everything)

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Singularity-of-Verse

Aug 21, 2007

The point of 'Deviant Watch'

0 min read

I feel very fortunate to have artistic colleagues who "watch" me on deviant ART, as well as to be able watch others.  I really do have a deep appreciation for all forms of art, and I would hope my form of expression is appreciated, too. In my opinion, "watching" someone is the same as making a commitment to comment on their new artwork.  Maybe not every single piece, but some of the new pieces at least.  Despite my busy, full life, I make an effort to keep up with those I watch by viewing and commenting on their new pieces.  What is frustrating to me is that not everyone that "watches" me does the same.  Of course, I don't mean to make a fal

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Singularity-of-Verse

Jun 13, 2007

FREE AT LAST!

0 min read

I HAVE SUCCESSFULLY COMPLETED COMPULSORY SECONDARY EDUCATION! No more childish teenagers, no more busywork, no more school district dress codes, no more baby-sitters... NO MORE HIGH SCHOOL SHIT! ^^; Heh... I just graduated yesterday.  And I'm excited.

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Singularity-of-Verse

Feb 11, 2007

Finally...

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I found out I'm a National Merit Finalist! :dance: That means I get a full ride to the college of my choice (full ride including EVERYTHING + a free semester of study abroad)!  Which means I don't have to pay a thing for my undergraduate degree!  Which means I won't have any loans to pay off after college!  Which will make it easier to get my doctorate! :meditate: It's all just coming together.