Theme

Display Mature Content

Suppress AI Content

literature

Ausencia

Deviation Actions

Alimari

Published: Feb 22, 2006

178 Views

Literature Text

Lucho contra el silencio y le hablo a la pared;
    le miento sobre tu ausencia -imagino un abrazo-
    pero solo se me ríe al dejarme mentir....
             ...y mi abrazo se desploma en abandono cortés
               el recuerdo de tu risa es todo lo que alcanzo...
               Tal vez recuerde tus miradas de reojo que vi...

                                                                                ...Me harás aún más falta aquí

More by Alimari

Literature

Momentos Fulcro: A Background

Momentos Fulcro is a collaborative band composed of musicians, mixers, producers and DJs the Circuitgods (the AI entity) and Venezuelan singer, songwriter, and DJ Alexandria Arquer. Roughly two hundred years ago, during the frenzied peak of the "War on Terror" in the United States, the Pentagon gave the MIT and Carnegie Mellon computer science facilities ample funding to explore an artificial intelligence powerful enough to manage random, believable "enemy" attacks for training. In 2007, MIT unveiled their artificial personality, nicknamed "Abraham". Six months later, Carnegie Mellon revealed their own AI, "Sasha". This led to a peri

Recommended Literature

Literature

Dealate

You write on the edges of dreams and tangerine skies. Nature shivers when your fingers trail along sunsets and treetops. There's nothing that can stop you from flying, and I hope that you never do. -- The wings on your back have been grown with feathers made of early morning dewdrops and rainbow-coloured clouds. They're transilluminated and I swear I can see eternity through them. -- There are a hundred million reasons why you shouldn't be able to soar, but you only need one excuse to defy gravity. -- Would you mind terribly if I stole your wings? I'd like to see what tessellated perfections look like from far away.

Literature

Quotes

Quotes Life is not about how fast you run, or how high you climb, but how well you bounce He who asks is a fool for five minutes, but he who does not ask is a fool for ever In the 1960s, people took LSD to make the world wierd. Now the world is wierd, and people take Prozac to make it normal. If you believe in eternity, what does life mean to you, if you dont believe in eternity what does life matter to you ? If nothing in the world ever changed, one picture would have been enough to put an end to art. Life is a tragedy for those who feel, and a comedy for those who think. -La Bruyere Always forgive your enemies. Nothing annoys them

Literature

Signed, The Management

Dear Liver, You're a real trooper. Keep up the good work. Love, The Management Dear Lips, Shut your mouth Signed, The Management Dear Ego, Please do the world a favor & shoot yourself in the face. Sincerely, The Management Dear Insanity, We're sorry, but we're going to have to ask you to leave. We don't allow pets. Please clean up Depression's & Anxiety's shit when you leave. No hard feelings, The Management Dear Feet, You look like shit. Have you been using again? Being bloody and cut up all the time is scaring the other tenants. If you don't get yourself together, we're going to have to ask you to leave.

Suggested Collections

Poetry

Literature

dear self,

1. tomorrow is not worth waiting for. sure, there will be sunshine (with a slight chance of rain) and sure, some kid will be smiling, and yes, life is still moving on, but it's not like anyone cares. 2. you just want someone to love you, misery and tears and all. maybe you could spend saturdays curled up under the covers, memorizing the patterns of breathing. maybe you could count the seconds but the problem is that there would never be enough, the problem is that there's nothing there to love. 3. no one is listening. 4. i'd write you a letter, but you'd never read it. i'm stuck screaming into my own heart, wonderin

Literature

confessions of lostwithoutyou.

i'm not a liar. but i never told you that you always looked best in black. i liked how your skin would fade to a paler shade of perfection and your perfect teeth would glint a little brighter. and i could pretend for an evening that you were my black and white dream come true. and with you there would be no shades of inbetweens and no grays for us to get lost in. i never told you but it's true.   + i was never able to tell you, but i hate the way you cook your 'specialty' eggs. you always laughed over your shoulder and told me that they are the best food i’ll ever eat, that i was blessed to get the chance to taste them melt

Literature

paint.

i told you that i liked boys who smoked cigarettes, because then i knew that they needed something. i told you that i liked roses without the thorns, because then they wouldnt hurt so much when they got picked. i told you that i liked it when you held my hands because i didnt feel quite so lonely, not quite. i told you that i'd love you 'til the stars exploded and the clouds devoured us- and you said nothing. you said nothing. *** (here's a little history.) in vietnam people hurt other people. people burned themselves- (i wish i was that brave.) they threw chemicals and hid in the ground and laughed when the others cried. its

Prose and Poetry

propensity on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/propensity/art/Infinite-172254053propensity

Literature

Christian: Not a Label

Yes, I am a Christian. That doesn't mean I'll be showing up on your front porch Waving a Bible in your face screaming "Have you heard? Heard the Good News?" Yes, I am a Christian. That doesn't mean I'll condemn you to hell for drinking that glass of wine, Telling you to treat your body like a temple and keep it pure. Jesus Christ drank wine, didn't he? Yes, I am a Christian. That doesn't mean I'll be picketing your home, your work, your friends Just because your beliefs don't agree with mine. That's a little childish, right? Yes, I am a Christian. That doesn't mean that I devote my Sundays to God, turn off the phone, TV and ligh

Literature

PROSE What Spies Do

My dad is a rock. He is solid, he is powerful. He can still pick me up and toss me over his shoulder. He is never seen to cry, he can never be swayed or damaged by opinion. He is a real estate agent, and he pushes those deals and sways those clients with confidence and experience. He flexes his arms at the dinner table when I ask him and points exactly which way it is to the beach or the gun show. He is a tree, a mountain, a thick and formidable presence in any room, in any place, against any person. “He’s late,” my mom said, and pursed her lips through the ste

Poetry

Literature

Washing With Water

Shooting blanks and shitty whisky wishing somebody was sitting sinking with me.

Literature

compulsive liar.

once i asked you your favourite colour, and you said, "the brown of your eyes," so i put in one green contact and told everyone that i came out of the womb as a factory defect, half-priced, damaged goods. - sometimes i am from canada and sometimes i am from england and sometimes i am from spain. i've carefully tempered my accents and plotted out my stories with yellow and purple coloured pencils on index cards. my origin changes like the seasons. "why do you lie to everyone?" you ask. "why not?" i reply. - i wear nametags that read "alicia" and "liana" and "samantha," because i want to know how it feels to be someon

Literature

Contrivand

no pain t no gain a

More by Alimari

Alimari on DeviantArthttp://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/https://www.deviantart.com/alimari/art/Split-Compliments-259111676Alimari

Alimari on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/alimari/art/yin-yang-50801190Alimari

Alimari on DeviantArthttp://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/https://www.deviantart.com/alimari/art/Perspective-55205035Alimari

Alimari on DeviantArthttp://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/https://www.deviantart.com/alimari/art/Pearl-87118862Alimari

I am in a posting frenzy; part old poems, part gained incentive, part lack of drawing capacity (aka my art sucks these days... dunno why) so excuse the annoyance, it'll stop. Soon. Eventually.

Probably the Spanish accompaniment to "Missed", along those trains of thought.
This reminds me of sadness. Because you never thought I was sincere, did you? And you'll never know the feeling I hid.
Again, only a "song" because I can't read it without singing it to myself... a beat not unlike Tardes Negras (Tiziano Ferro)

Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License