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creativelycliche on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/creativelycliche/art/Snow-Falls-South-cover-560767275creativelycliche

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the beauty of Curiosity

55GoatBones

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LiterarySerenity

Literature

Those Simple, Beautiful Glimmers

Even when nerves seize ahold of me like sharp talons or darkness threatens to overwhelm all my senses amid the commotion of a world deep in uncertainty that can stun and tug down even the happiest of spirits I can still glimpse moments of relief and lightness able to break up the terrors on the prowl A smile and bob of the head given by a stranger passed on the street just to be friendly Words of comfort overheard from parents to their children beside emptied shelves Relatives and friends who offer to share resources

Literature

Boundless Possibilities

Do you ever get overwhelmed by the boundless possibilities found in everyday life where anything can happen chosen or unexpected? Perhaps you might meet a lifelong friend or glimpse an unusual creature or learn a lesson that will change your worldview forever You could visit someplace remembered only from childhood or become acquainted with a new hideaway or visit a historic spot many people travel to see

Literature

A Keyboard Symphony

Please allow me to create for you on this page a brief keyboard symphony like a concert pianist who performs upon a stage to delight an audience composed of dear friends Have you ever pondered the similarities between those two instruments— the computer of keys inscribed with letters and other marks woven together into a harmonious whole and the piano of keys where various notes lay hidden under a similar front that become rich melodies when pressed with practiced knowledge? Each one brings to life a composition which

comatose-comet

Literature

God(l)ess.

My gods have grown stale since you left. How can the saints compare to devas with a thousand arms, a thousand lives, and all this time to waste listening in return for a slice of chilled mango? My saints have always been nameless and unknown, a long line of white-faced men and white-robed women with stories I ought to have learned in school, but I always seemed to miss class for a moth or a bramble or a grazed knee. Your gods have stories – you painted them across my bed-sheets in the mornings, clicking your bangles and talismans to the beat of beat poetry and monkey tails. Your temple was one piece of carved schist, your idols golden

Literature

river.flow

we talk in rivers. I have noticed them flow in the midst of our conversations – mine the thames, serpentine slipping as a whisper through the low meadows, quiet and hissing. yours the five rivers of the punjab, vying like brothers in a tumult of froth and noise, wrestling their way through mangrove roots and mazes. the rivers raised us, taught us their ways. somewhere two oceans meet in a place where there is no wind, the doldrums silent and still as two currents cancel out in a moment of collision. as the thames flows into the punjab and halts, so too do we stand together, silent, over-brimming with restrained tidal

Literature

Ganges.

i have been dreaming in rivers. it started when those palms of yours skated into the corners of my imagination, soaked in thick incense smoke and wreathed with the scars of a thousand births and rebirths, a thousand more deaths and re-deaths. it started when those palms pressed up against the palisades, slipping quiet prayers in sanskrit between the roman numerals and grecian arches of a life spent spinning like foucault's pendulum below the domes built by my ancestors' hands - their palms plastered and rock-worn, calloused and beat

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DavidMnr on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/davidmnr/art/Floraison-blossom-793735893DavidMnr

Literature

if i could invent words

i would like to create a word for what one feels when they realize: if we were birds, the only cage we would be in are the ones we create ourselves. how many times have our wings been clipped by our own hands alone. christ, i'm sorry. dear past self: i apologize for trying to define you; for definition is the metaphorical cage to change. the only limit the sky has is how far we can see.

Literature

nothing left but the paranoia

they say crows never forget and i am terrified this is true. see, the other week, i hit a crow with my car & they saw. they saw, and if they remember, then they know, and if they know, they will come. here is the thing: i am terrified they can see me & i am terrified they can not. my thoughts lately are a spiral, a maze, with an entrance but no exit. i am lost. i am lost, and they know. last week, i saw a cat, eating a crow, and in my mind, i am the cat, i am the crow, i am the car that hit the crow, i am my thoughts lost in my maze, and what if they see me.

Poetry

Literature

Not Okay

wake up and start working for it is six A M I turn around and keep sleeping for I feel sick A F wake up and start working it is now half past eight sludge through the day, get done nought and cut it short to stay half sane fall into bed at half past two determined to take just a break but sleep till e'ening breaks get up, wake up, shake away the sleep the day is gone, you've wasted it sick to the core, but nothing's wrong just your mind, your heart, your soul dread the tomorrow

Literature

Self Love

the eternal hunt for that small island of utter peace the ultimate climb to reach that one peak satisfaction the striving for bliss completely alone in happiness

Literature

no happiness in misery

no happiness in misery (OR: My best friend died and I don't know what to do so I wrote a cento about it with Fall Out Boy lyrics) so, progress report: i am missing you to death, my best friend, dead and gone, and i want these words to make things right but i must confess, now that you’re gone, i try to picture me without you but i can’t, so now i’m just numb, bulletproof loneliness, wearing vintage misery, like i’ll never be the same, and i don’t want to forget how your voice sounds, (just off the key of sunshine riptide) and i need to keep you like this in my mind, wishing on every star, a cherry blossom about to bloom, the eighth wonder. and i could scream forever, as desperation takes hold, ‘cause i don’t know where you’re going, and i keep telling myself i'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday, and i’m so sorry how talking's just a waste of breath. it’s kinda funny, that everything i wish for will never come true. so i lie in the grass, next to the mausoleum. we

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Fantasy-Unite

Snow Falls South cover

creativelycliche

Published: Sep 17, 2015

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Description

Hey everyone! This is the cover for my epic novel of sword and sorcery, "Snow Falls South". It is not currently published and this cover is more for fun than anything else. If you are interested in becoming a beta or alpha reader for me, note me and we can talk about it! I have written seven novels, so there's plenty to read!

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1410x2250px 2.75 MB