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About Deviant Julian AndersMale/South Africa Recent Activity
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Literature
Goodbyes change things
Words will always be
of consequence; except in
the face of goodbye.
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Literature
Words will cease
On days when words falter,
When there is no too much “I love you”
and kisses are wishes of constant us
thus never ‘part lips-words falter.
Eyes close; see invisible no-you-I
for closeness is more than intertwine
and heartbeat rest
be still and know we.
They say one day words will cease.
Still, we will know love
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Mature content
untitled :iconchangers-n-mash:changers-n-mash 1 0
Literature
even this is beautiful
Muted tones of chirpy songs and quiet replies,
punctuated by toilet breaks and
grunts of playful frigid hands;
return to kisses of bad breath and bitten lip.
And beautiful beginnings smile in the stillness after rain
gentle morning hues of bedroom warmth
to laughter and mischievous eyes close and kisses… kisses... kisses
that wish for always and forever and not end.
But loving tears were (nearly unseen) caught
and held between the soft breast of here and now–
tomorrow, “even this is beautiful” she said,
and Goodbye has never stopped heartbreak.
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Literature
and in the quiet, the patter of rain...
Wrapped in comfort, of flaws, of humanity,
of lampshades and duckegg,
of warm hands and gentle lips,
of soft words and cold feet
and mistakes and laughs tumbling out to play
on creamy skin of wheat and whey,
between kisses and hand-holding
in circles around swaying pillars and arches, breathless
resting his forehead against her neck, eyes closed,
arms across her chest drew her in,
breathing closeness
and fighting sleep; and in the quiet,
the patter of rain sounded…
love.
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Literature
And tentatively, I tell her so, because I am shy
Despite siren songs and half-closed eyes,
early morning light will always be
more romantic and sensuous, and I
tell her so; and she says to me
how I always say things in such a sexy way.
Though sense never chose her, never chose words,
for sex or sensibility, still I yearn to stay
by her fingertips, for her skin – for her.
And love her wit, her scent, her hair
And draw her close, breathe in as much of her as my desperate lungs will – hold
my breath… like the stillness of summer air,
hoping to keep this memory in my heart,
so I will carry her in my heart(I carry it in my heart).
And tentatively, I tell her so,
because I am shy.
And she tells me that I’m not shy at all.
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Literature
Ours is a death by drudgery
Every morning, her Kraken-like lips yawn cavernous
with soporific starts and smothered dreams.  She holds me under
waves of snooze that squeeze every last drop of willpower
until I wash up on the cold steel basin once again.
Treated with burnt toast and bitter coffee in silence
cut only by the uncaring clickety-clack of exo-skeleton,
she dyes and embalms any prospect of excitement
with routine and repetition; rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat...
The clasp of her carpals and metacarpals stills my pen,
and the gentle caress of chalkboard nails tears me away
to gaze at vacuous orbits behind shadowed eyelids
so words fall like dead stars and doomed doves.
Cerebus jealously guards the gaps of her ribs
fearful that I might steal phoenix whispers
from the jaws of Haros and breathe the life
before the  constant treading of stagnant Styx.
Instead, hours of procrastination extinguish the flickering
liquid crystal display of tired eyes and tired mind,
and I reach out to my mistress.
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Literature
You were rain that pours and never stops
You were rain that pours and never stops,
never roars, and is never still.
You were the sighs and smiles of shores
that breathe.
You were the wind that swayed
the waves of gold wheat where I hid
but did not live; did not live until your words
were whispered into them.
You were the gracious moon that waxed
and waned so the stars could be seen
and I, dog eared and fox eyed,
was caught by the constellation of you.
For I shied and shrunk from the sun,
that shone too bright, too brilliant,
until I learnt to set my heart upon the dying light
but now it is night and you were hello
and I was ever a constant goodbye.
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Literature
Untitled
I’m tired of how I always write about love, so I wrote this piece about love.  I’ve always hated how all my poetry and prose was always about me, even when it was about you, about us.  
And some days I feel like backspacing everything I’ve written because words and writing just don’t quite cut it compared to living but the living that I’m doing doesn’t quite compare to what I’ve written, or writing still.
And then I just wanted to write and then I couldn’t so I did anyways, and I’m kind of sorry about that because my writing makes me sad, it made you sad too, even when it made us happy as though only sadness is meaningful and so love has to be sad to be meaningful too, but it doesn’t.  
But that’s all I know to write and that makes me not want to write at all because I might drown in it if I do even though somehow I feel like that wouldn’t be so bad.  Like drowning in tea or coffee because tea i
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Literature
You and I conjugate with instinctual ease
You and I conjugate with instinctual ease
so abundant that grammar grew green
as sin at our grasp of verbs, for we
are present tense doing and breaking rules as we please
so that fixed form at ‘speare point shakes
and melts liquid into more form-less and less
tradition and a, b, a, b, c, d, c, d, make
greater sense and the most beautiful mess.
Circumventing stutter-in-struct-ure, slip
slick quick electric free in defence of verse
‘til meaning and love run
on and out and meet halfway, crossing
every line together
so there is none…  (none for there is no need)
just you and I, in a single breath -- we.
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:iconchangers-n-mash:changers-n-mash 17 24
Literature
Winged Morpheus
Found in the shadows of this world
And only ever in glimpses -- Night casts her soft blanket.
Moving by strobe light, Euterpe and Terpsichore
Giggle and wink as Dionysus flirts with her by the bar
And she flirts back.
O, how I wish she would come home.
How I wish she would walk along the poppy path
And rest her weary head,
Where Erato might whisper my messages into her ear,
That she might dream
Of me.  That I may fly noiselessly to her and shed
My wings and tears of joy to have held her
In Eros’s embrace.  I would willingly take on any form for her
if she would but sleep.
Instead she is with her muses
And I cannot tread beyond dreams.
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Literature
Medicine and DotA
Inadequate wards
and lack of support – signs of
a strategic fail
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Literature
Econo-ku
Poems are about
economy; currency
for trading ideas.
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Literature
Close your eyes. Picture the best day of your life
I read a poster today.  It said the following:
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Close your eyes.
Picture the best day of your life.
Think of how you felt that day.
Think of what was around you, the fragrances, the sounds, the flavours,
the things you said and what was said to you.
Now open your eyes.
and keep that feeling...
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
I didn't close my eyes because I wasn't sure I be able to open them again...
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Literature
When did we care so much and love so little?
We complain too much about love; protest
that love is too difficult (that you broke
promises, that I never made;
that you always spoke your mind, and that I always wore sleeves,
long enough to cover my face, with my heart embroidered on them)
and object when objective(s)
and the object seems
too distant,
too silent, too indifferent, too much...
too little and too
late.
Our love is too small, maybe it is that when love should be
we, we are still you and I--need
to be subject to stress and strain
and weather rains so uncomfortable
out-growths of  love can take root;
instead we are too green to bend.
When did we, as people, care so much and love so little?
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Literature
Things of consequince
I am bored whenever mommy puts on the kettill and gosips with all of mommies friends about Misses Jones who went to a hoetel
or when daddy cums bak from work and sits with his feet on the table and watches broadkarsts about politiks and economiks.
I am disapointed by these things of consequince.
I think whats more importint is what crayon I shud use to color in my jiraaf and why there aren’t more crayons.
<3
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Favourites

Gotcha by TsaoShin Gotcha :icontsaoshin:TsaoShin 11,834 1,698 Katana Shoujo process by magion02 Katana Shoujo process :iconmagion02:magion02 5,246 164 Teresa Awakening? by gooloo0-o Teresa Awakening? :icongooloo0-o:gooloo0-o 10,164 396 A little walk on the wild side by PascalCampion A little walk on the wild side :iconpascalcampion:PascalCampion 292 7
Literature
symphony stellata
one of my earliest memories -
my mother, steadfast mentality
slowly driving her forward, repeating
repeating re-pea-ting bar by bar
nocturne number eight in d flat major;
never anything less than perfection,
even when fingertips wear thin,
when patience wears thinner,
and chopin fades into dusti am a child born of icy constellations,
cigarette smoke, and canorous chords,
composers whispering at the edge of my sensesblack-garbed, it's grandmother's funeral -
my violin cries massenet's méditation.
my thirteen year-old heart has never
felt so incapable of expression,
so goddamn inadequate, and d major
has never sounded so heartbroken.
we return to a phone call from father,
his composure cracking as he tells us
we'll be doing this all over again;
96 hours, two grandmothers gone,
now all i have is massenet and
it isn't fairwe'd never know it by looking at the sky,
but countless stars waxed requiem to
create us; cenotaphs in the empyrean blacksixteen years old and i can breathe -
:iconLissomer:Lissomer
:iconlissomer:Lissomer 208 86
.:KIRA:. by yoneyu .:KIRA:. :iconyoneyu:yoneyu 917 161 Words in the sand. by PascalCampion Words in the sand. :iconpascalcampion:PascalCampion 1,002 42 When the sand is just warm enough. by PascalCampion When the sand is just warm enough. :iconpascalcampion:PascalCampion 604 21 BEST FEELING EVERRRRRRRRR! by PascalCampion BEST FEELING EVERRRRRRRRR! :iconpascalcampion:PascalCampion 364 23 Himura Kenshin by Artgerm Himura Kenshin :iconartgerm:Artgerm 11,759 500 How to give a kiss. by PascalCampion How to give a kiss. :iconpascalcampion:PascalCampion 416 55 SAVE YOUR HEART FOR SOMEONE WHO CARES by grohsARTig SAVE YOUR HEART FOR SOMEONE WHO CARES :icongrohsartig:grohsARTig 273 35 sweet burning v.4 by bwaworga sweet burning v.4 :iconbwaworga:bwaworga 478 25 When the war ends by aionlights When the war ends :iconaionlights:aionlights 4,221 186 Hades by sakimichan Hades :iconsakimichan:sakimichan 40,881 1,306 Good Morning Shenron by ZachSmithson Good Morning Shenron :iconzachsmithson:ZachSmithson 9,271 663

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"No man aspires to be married.  They do it as a compromise.  For the woman"

and there was a round of nods and agreement...

Journal History

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changers-n-mash
Julian Anders
South Africa

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:iconsilver786:
Silver786 Featured By Owner Dec 1, 2013  Student Writer
Thanks a lot for the :+fav: dear ! :huggle:

Also, if you feel like it, here's some chapters and illustrations of my online novel project, "Sentinelle", if you feel like reading a little bit ^^


Have a nice day :la:
Reply
:iconflummo:
flummo Featured By Owner Nov 15, 2013  Student Writer
Thank you so much for the watch!! :heart::heart:
Reply
:iconchangers-n-mash:
changers-n-mash Featured By Owner Nov 17, 2013
Sure thing ^_^
Reply
:icongingersanps:
Gingersanps Featured By Owner Nov 14, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the :+devwatch:.
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:iconchangers-n-mash:
changers-n-mash Featured By Owner Nov 17, 2013
Don't mention it :)
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:icongingersanps:
Gingersanps Featured By Owner Nov 17, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
:)
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:iconadalaine:
adalaine Featured By Owner Nov 7, 2013
thank you so much for adding me to your +watch;
it really means a lot to me. ♥
Reply
:iconchangers-n-mash:
changers-n-mash Featured By Owner Nov 9, 2013
(>^_^)>
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:iconwinterofthesoul:
WinteroftheSoul Featured By Owner Nov 5, 2013
Julian,

Thanks for the watch, sir! :)

Just curious: Why'd you add me?

Peace,
WinteroftheSoul
Reply
:iconchangers-n-mash:
changers-n-mash Featured By Owner Nov 5, 2013
I figure, why not? Writers gonna write
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