Poetry.
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What Vestiges...Full Title: What Vestiges in the Land of the Rising Sun.What Vestiges...
Kaeru no uta ga, kikote kuruyo, kwa kwa kwa kwa kero kero kero kero, kwa kwa kwa I chanted with my mother, sitting
on the tatami mat, little folded frogs, brown, yellow, red, perched in our laps. They leapt one push at a time, hop hop hop.
Licking my finger, I made a little hole in the paper screen to press one eye against and peer. My father sat in his chair, reading;
the nearby lamp casting a golden shadow across his face. Tsuki ga hoshii! I told my mother, walking beneath the mercury d
by ~SilantWanderer
Eating Seasons for ThoughtWords can flow as smoothly as blood through a length of violet vein or as roughly as grainy sandpaper down a patch of blackened skin.Eating Seasons for Thought
One thing is for sure, there is no stopping either. Blood will flow and flow and flow, until, accomplishing its purpose, can do no more.
It's a measure of chaos, this uncontrollable rush. Worse still, when it's like a boat bobbing in the ocean's midst, going no where; its anchor set.
The screen is empty, blank; that pissy little cursor is blinking, saying, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, write SOMETHING! Anything
by ~SilantWanderer
Mrs. CarmodyI like to sit in my bathtub at 1 o'clock in the morning cooking myself red like a lobster in a pot.Mrs. Carmody
Here the water is silence like the delighted cackle of death. It strangles like the mourner’s pall To conceal the joker face.
I sit through a lot of bad TV shows, and you running a commentary as if you wrote the damn thing. I don’t mind, we all have quirks.
What I do mind is the commentary on my life, as if you wrote the script for that damned thing too; You’re the next prophet; you know The Plan. You always knew.
by ~SilantWanderer
The Dunes of the UniverseTitle: I Traverse the Dunes of the UniverseThe Dunes of the Universe
Stars frame the path, icy and incandescent, like a thousand washed-up pebbles bleached white like whale bone. Stand still, smell the freshly bloomed super-nova, spicy like freshly baked pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving. Look to the west, Xibalba is rising, exploding into a magnetic arc of gold and crimson, hot like the kiss of electricity. Dance from the east to the west Circles and circles, like the moon rising over the river's frothy current, and the earth swing-dancing around
by ~SilantWanderer
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: Indiana, USA
- Interests: Archery, writing, occult, art, anime, manga, computres, video games, stuffs like that.
- Favourite movie: 300
- Favourite band or musician: Girugamesh
- Favourite genre of music: Trance and techno.
- Favourite artist: Luis Royo
- Favourite poet or writer: Anne Rice
- Favourite style of art: Photomanips
- Operating System: A human body
- Skin of choice: My own.
- Favourite game: Counter-strike Source.
- Favourite gaming platform: The world, mwahahaha.
- Favourite cartoon character: Invader ZIM!
- Personal Quote: "They have waffle in them : P"
- Tools of the Trade: A computer and a muse.
- Email: SylantWanderer@yahoo.com
- MSN: SylantWanderer@yahoo.com
- Yahoo: TheYumeChan
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An Irishman has an abiding sense of tragedy that sustains him through temporary bouts of joy.
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-Silant-
98% of Deviants don't know the difference between "your" and "you're." If you're one of the 2% that wants to punch 'em, put this in your sig.
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find me a storm where the wild winds blow.
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-Silant-
98% of Deviants don't know the difference between "your" and "you're." If you're one of the 2% that wants to punch 'em, put this in your sig.
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~Reality was invented by people without imagination~
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-Silant-
98% of Deviants don't know the difference between "your" and "you're." If you're one of the 2% that wants to punch 'em, put this in your sig.
--
-------
-Silant-
98% of Deviants don't know the difference between "your" and "you're." If you're one of the 2% that wants to punch 'em, put this in your sig.
--
-------
-Silant-
98% of Deviants don't know the difference between "your" and "you're." If you're one of the 2% that wants to punch 'em, put this in your sig.
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