Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login

J is for JWA2277

Journal Entry: Sun Jun 25, 2017, 4:59 AM
Today I want to celebrate :iconjwa2277:   JWA2277

J is for JWA2277

Just So (3)Not all who grin are happy, not all who smile are pleasant or content.
Beware the clown, for he hides a sad, or hate filled, heart.
Beware the one who says "here, let me help you... let me show you a deal".
For those who offer words of help, often seek to help themselves.
Not all who frown are unhappy, not all who seem miserable are.
For: "misery loves company".
Not all who wander are lost , and not all who travel have a destination.
Beware the wander, and traveler, lest he make your house his home.
Beware a wandering heart.
Lest it steel your love away, and make it its own.
Seek wisdom, before the bottle.
Or you may never wake to see the bottom of the glass.
A new beginning, is only that.
Don't make it the end of some other means.
Make a friend of reason, wisdom a welcome guest.
Such company will never leave you lonely.
Beware of those who seem wise in their own eyes, and invite you to scheming.
The hole they dig is for their own pit for an untimely end.
  In the land of MarIn the land of Mar, across the sea, there is a valley where all lost things reside. Lost ships, and lost kingdoms, lost socks, and friendships gone, and hats taken by the wind.
It is a valley of lost time, lost days, and lost loves. If you ever come to Mar, and find the valley, you might find your wits, which are hard to find. Because when one loses there wit, they might not be aware that they are gone.
The Earl of Mar, one Sir John of Scotland, passed through the valley, sent by his mother and father, to forever escape harm. Now he rules there as its lord, from the House of Bidnold. For no part of him has ever been lost. He tends herds of baggers, and lost things, fallen crowns and lost loves. Gilding wisely those who come to find there wit, keeping all who find the valley from harm, helping them to pass into restoration.

Taxman by JWA2277

Sophistry of Science 
With Occam’s razor in my shoe I sleep with Schrödinger's cat …one eye open. I know that it will not be long before they will come for me with a pot of Socrates poison tea, the last man of reason in an irrational world!
Steeped in a cup of Madam Curie’s brew I wait for them to come for me, “Scientists ack! God save me from professionals!” Nothing more than overstuffed amateurs! Nobodies with nothing but papers and computer models so out of date they do not work, and they do not work exceptionally well…yet they swear allegiance and bow down before their paper gods … FORTRAN would spit them out and be sick!
They say, “the earth is too hot we must cool it down!” and then these same men,”No! the models wrong, burn more coal before we freeze!” never realizing its not the planet they are saving but their own skin.
We are not serving the planet here, she is disgusted with her children and would watch them burn
   AscentAt the moment of deepest darkness, when the light is furthest away, and the sun is in the far shade, then can the signal can be heard most strongly of all.  In the still calm of the night, when darkness seems most deep, strong, and unending…. Just before the coming of dawn. Then we hear the cry, “Atlas Rise!” Cast away all burden, and rise, let the world fall away.
And Rise!
Before the dawn, comes the darkness.
In the darkness, the monsters of fear and doubt hold court over my soul. Whispering the old threats, and ancient orders, the sorrows and the tired old “looking over your shoulder” calling after the failures of the past, Like a net, spun of cobwebs.  The beasts of your own night, are calling for judgment, for your blood, and for death.
Now! At the braking dawn! “It’s time to run”, “Shadow king”, call all your monsters to arms; it’s time to rule the fear. If you cannot defeat your own darkness, then contro

Humming bird moth by JWA2277

Quick note from Mr. Smith
Trim…. Is a novel concept! The idea that behind a 2 or 3 inch piece of wood or plastic , the floor is perfectly sealed to the wall. When in reality, behind trim and molding there is anywhere from a 2 inch to quarter inch gap in the plaster, allowing all manner of nasty infectious incest or rodents  to inhabit  the wall and come out and say “hi” any time they want!
Your world is so imperfect, if it actually is made to a perfect state you become sick and disorientated. Take, for example: the greatest achievement of early man, Roman columns. To you they look uniform when in reality the early romans built the top larger than the bottom so when you look up they appear strait and uniform. If this were not done you would convince yourselves that they were too thin and have a phobia of the roof caving in on you. Truly, pathetic!
Your whole world is an illusion; take for the example the corner of your room, where the celling meets two walls…. Is it square
   Pear- a horror story Something strange happened on DA.
I decided to post a picture of a Pear.
As I readied my camera, the pear grind at me.
Then it tried to eat me!
So I ate the pear.

Techno Ubiquida II by JWA2277

Singularity Fall: The bench
The bench:
My feet echoed on the stone steps, almost like a MEC striding thru the concrete jungle of our city. It had a few months since Roxanna’s run in with the Carnal Bot “Construcus”, a construction type multiform. I had thought that the matter would be closed by now, when I received a call from the defense attorney for the Century who had come to Roxanna’s aid. He wanted me to talk to his client, and that the MEC had been asking for me. His client had pled guilty to the murder of the Carnal Bot, and waved any mitigating circumstance. All that was left was sentencing and appeal, which wouldn’t take long. The lawyer was almost begging me to talk to his client and try to keep him alive, or at least talk him into being “boxed” until his programing could be examined, for some mitigating flaw.
I finally reached the underground impound yard for MECs sentenced, and those awaiting trial. At the check point I reaffirmed my status, credentials, and r
   Just so (4)Cats... In  the Westminster Dog show?
Is nothing sacred anymore.
I would quit my job and runaway to the circuses...
But they killed Ringling Bros.
and  Barnum & Bailey

Fire and Ice by JWA2277

This Journal Skin was designed by Night-Beast

Watcher Feature #31

Journal Entry: Mon Jun 19, 2017, 4:25 AM
Because my Watchers are AWESOME!  :heart:

:iconmadz4ever:  Madz4ever

Flowers of Today by Madz4ever

Firework7 by Madz4ever

:iconsisterslaughter165:   Sisterslaughter165

Sun Goddesses by Sisterslaughter165

Montreal 3 by Sisterslaughter165

:iconsupergirlswag:  SuperGirlSwag

Dark lightI am the light who searches for the darkness but she is always one step ahead of me Life is...If we're talking numbers - life is way too long
But if we're talking moments - life is way too short...

Soul flower by SuperGirlSwag

:iconduggiehoo:  duggiehoo

Droplets of rain on Gloriosa superba by duggiehoo

Red-banded Hairstreak by duggiehoo

:iconsilverluver123:   Silverluver123

Female Yoruhana for ShadowRewinds by Silverluver123Echo by Silverluver123

:iconphotopathica:   Photopathica

Starflower V by Photopathica

One of These Mornings by Photopathica

:iconthebrilliant:   thebrilliant

CoffinsHe builds coffins.  He had spent his life crafting them, not because he had to or because he wanted to, but because he needed to.  He had built them since he was little, nothing else had ever seemed as interesting to make.  Everyone wanted his coffins, they were works of art.  Beautiful, unique pieces of art that were only seen for a short period of time before being laid in the ground.  The rich and poor came to him for coffins whenever they needed one; he always wanted to please them.
For years, he’d had his own coffin waiting for him.  But now he was making a special one.  No one had asked for this coffin, but he made it with love.  He took extra time with this coffin, making it the most beautiful one he’d made.
His love, Frank, had always said that he loved his coffins too much.  Frank found it morbid how much time Gerard would spend building coffins.  But Frank never truly complained, he loved Gerard and accepted that w

Mature Content

:iconskyangel280:  Skyangel280

He Could by Skyangel280

A Burst Of Yellow by Skyangel280

:iconabstractcamera:  abstractcamera

Rainbow Curve by abstractcamera

Different Dewy Web by abstractcamera

This Journal Skin was designed by Night-Beast

Mondo anyone?

Journal Entry: Mon Jun 12, 2017, 4:34 AM
Anyone want to write a mondo with me?

What is a Mondo, you ask?

It's a poem.  A Collab!

The Mondo, whilst similar to the Sedoka, has to be written by two different authors. It features 2 stanzas of katuata (5,7,5) with the first asking a question and the second answering it. Pick a partner and create!

Lemme know...   :heart:

This Journal Skin was designed by Night-Beast

Canvas LOVE

Journal Entry: Fri Jun 9, 2017, 2:23 PM
featuring beautiful paintings


On the third day by bohomaz13

Poppies by SaraPereiraArt

Belated meeting by Leonid Afremov by LeonidafremovFL 2 by Keltu

Vivaldi. by Somaritan

Books and Glass by JeanBlaze

Hithlum by peet

This Journal Skin was designed by Night-Beast

Architecture in Black and White

Journal Entry: Mon Jun 5, 2017, 4:31 PM
Today I am celebrating the beauty of Black and White Photography and our theme is....


Please enjoy and show these fantastic artists some LOVE.  :heart:

Sky by TomGarot

Square by PRibeiro

WindoW by fal-nameBaker Broadway by ColourburstTEY

La Pedrera by a3t3rnum

Chocolate Stairs by stengchen

...praha III... by roblfc1892llah by DZerWebdesign

Experimentelle Fabrik by MatthiasHaltenhof

Disorder by marco52

This Journal Skin was designed by Night-Beast

I is for intelligentzombie

Journal Entry: Mon May 29, 2017, 12:05 PM
This journal is for :iconintelligentzombie:   IntelligentZombie

A lovely weaver of words.

language of the unsaid | 5-29-16i. i...
it isn’t in postcards or postage paid
but in postman’s hands and
envelopes that smell like rain
you read words in an electric hum, a halo
of candlelight and bulbs;
light fits you like a chrysalis,
weaving strands through the night like fingers,
infant rays that never
got to be the sun
it’s raining, and there it is again:
a scent that scarcely matters
but still, strikes a chord;
petrichor makes you think of boots sinking
into earth
footprints as wounds, rain as rivers
abducted into the sky, cycles repeat,
rain, recede, rain, repeat
ii. too
the lifespan of a conversation
language, fleeting, inescapable conclusions
drawn from temerous assumptions,
too many critical hits in a string of hypotheses,
but you show me evidence, and i’ll stop
hunting for a chance to feel safe.
the lifespan of a love
is a series of knives in cleverly concealed boxes-
satin ribbons on all
iii. see
it’s getting to me, so i know it’s

Collectorall the things you collect end up in your eyes,
sparkling and swirling in your wide, unguarded stare.  
clutter and trash are your sacred artifacts
as precious to you as a lover’s kiss to me.
you spit at the word “worthless”
because how many people called you the same?
i wish you’d spat on them too.
insect bits, and epithets,
half mended sweaters, fish bones, wishbones,
unopened letters, broken phones
litter the landscape of your life, as you
go searching for evidence, some concrete assurance
that you’re not alone.
you breathe more dust than air,
naively unaware of how rarely your skin feels the sun,
but in spite of loving you, i can’t resent you
for who you’ve become.
people’s things hurt less than people.
you don’t talk to strangers, and you don’t talk to friends
but you’ll talk to peeling portraits, to yard sale art,
to lifeless painted men;
endless conversations held with acrylics and oils
until your vocabulary
     Between Dreamsi. an empty sea, a lightless flame
He ghosted his fingers down my spine
(a long time ago, when my heart
was mine) and his fingers were fire,
each with harsh scorpion tail curves,
dotting kisses and claw marks onto my skin.
so I branded him back, in the way only the sun
knows how to love another. he was mine,
a sun all on his own. i’ll stare, and remember
sol omnia regit; we stumbled, love-drunk
out of the heart of a star.
but flames are only there for a moment,
never longer, and i’m here, still yelling into
the void of my own head, our worlds quickly
losing meaning as I see the places where
my kisses used to go.
no one kisses the girl without a voice, but i’ve
been comforted by my own repeated mantra:
we said “I love you” so many times
did it have meaning to begin with?
i reached for your hand, and felt nothing but cold,
no pressure where your body should be
pressed up oh-so-perfectly against mine-
i rolled over, i gave myself out to an empty sea.

Lukewarm teaI like lukewarm tea
and the feeling of your limbs
tangled up in mine

FFM Day 8- The NarratorThe scene was a morbid one. Birds feasted on corpses: dead horses and soldiers alike. Blood-stained uniforms marked the allegiances of the fallen, but the dead had no such loyalties left. All were alike in death.  
In the center of the carnage stood the lone victor, once shining armor now dirtied and rent. He propped himself up on his greatsword, still fighting for his life lest fatigue alone slay him after surviving every obstacle he had faced.
“It looks like the glorious hero has failed again,” the narrator said, dripping scathing sarcasm. “There is no hope, no possible escape-”
“Look here, you ponce,” the gleaming knight yelled back. “I’m doing my best.”
“Oh, great work,” the narrator said. “Do you have a business card? People will flock from all across the land to kiss your feet, to grovel before you, to polish your platinum posterior.”
“Look, you ass,” the knight said, straightening his

Day 25- Blunt the stoneNo, I can’t get blood from a stone
but I sent a stone rolling down a mountain
to crush those in pursuit
and I won’t be the one who bleeds
to see it at the top again
let my eternal punishment be transformation
let my body contort until it breaks
and I am made anew from the breaking
let me become a spider
as I’m already writhing in my own web
If the gods were just, they’d make me into stone
Medusa’s gleaming eyes would be the last things I saw
and I’d guard over the dead in silence, a soldier
silent for an eternity, worms crawling through the mud
beneath my toes, spiders weaving webs across my surface
but I wouldn’t feel a damned thing.
you can’t get blood from a stone, and
the gods aren’t just.
I will be alive to watch the sun consume itself
red ragged edges flaring
until its pathetic death comes
I will live forever, not a spider, not a stone
even when I am reduced to gases
in the cosmos, amid the rubble of the earth
I will be alive,
     This is how we existI exist, right at the tip
of each of your fingers
ready to pour out, every time
and every time,
you tell me what it is that I am.
I exist, (to you) as each perception
a new layer, forms
a thought-infant, this new part of me, being born
is never self-aware, but always
present enough to earn my disgust.
So I exist, but help me forget
that I exist in two separate forms
the same as you do
and the two of us, our sparring pairs
are only the constructs we made
when we thought of each other.
You know I’m down because I flew up
way too high, all at once
and you realize that, so you arm yourself
and come prepared with your perceptions
you built your own ideal of me, so she can stand in my view
blocking the view
so she can pour off of your lips, and be held by you
as the truth a comparison.
I exist, but it’s in the way you wrote me
so write me this way:
I coalesce, with this ball
of blue-black stress, as I rip off
my dress, your skin
and find that beneath these designs
and behi

Mature Content

Midnight, Masks, and MirrorsI pat the bandage down, making sure it holds firm. It’s already blushing pink, a reminder that I can’t keep up with my own skin anymore. It’s getting hard to keep up with most things. But there’s a price to a spell, and a reason for the casting of it. I toss my bloodied bandages in the trash.
I leave the tiny bathroom with my hands over my face. It’s habitual now, the practiced repetition of avoiding my own reflection. I gently slide my hands down my face, wincing as calloused palms graze uncovered patches of raw skin.
But I don’t need to cover my eyes today.
Sneaking behind him, Rachael’s arms circle his waist. Hot breath on his neck is the prelude to a kiss; slow is the best kind of motion, the best kind of dancing. They hold each other and drift, slow, slow, so slow...
“I hope this was worth it,” Bartholomew whispers. “Dealing with witches.”
But Rachael is fussing with buttons and clasps, as clumsy a

FFM Day 9- Reborn with a Trickster in the RainThe person strapped to the tree slumped forward, hair hanging down around their face. They were naked and tiny, dwarfed by the massive oak they were lashed to. Red welts formed where they fought bonds; their blood turned pink and ran with the rain where their hands rubbed against the bark.
The oak stood alone in the great meadow beyond the forest’s border, as though the other trees had chased it away when they were seedlings. The oak was barren, leafless, and as doomed as the person bound to it.
“O-Tei,” a breeze whispered. It was likely a spirit or a demon trying to trick O-Tei away into the forever lands deep below the world. O-Tei couldn’t die like this, ghost-kissed and abandoned. The breeze kissed their cuts.
The wounds that ran deep in O-Tei’s flesh would never heal and fade. They were forever until they rotted. “Whore” was written in Kanji across their forehead, and “freak” on their cheek. O-Tei’s killers had written th

This Journal Skin was designed by Night-Beast

Pretty Words- A Feature

Journal Entry: Mon May 22, 2017, 6:13 AM
Today I celebrate words, all the wonderful ones that I find here.

Let's start with :iconatypicallily:

NaPoWriMo #29I wove your memory
inside my mind just like the way
ivy vines used to curl up
against the terracotta walls of your home
I cried our moments together
onto orchard petals
like puddles of dew drops
in the frigid morning hours
There is something so reminiscent
to curl up on patches of green grass
among wilting daisies and earthy soil
- it makes me think of you
And the thought of you
has always comforted my lilac heart
It would complete
this newly turned garden of mine
as my thorny reality
has reminded me countlessly-
You are what is missing
     NaPoWriMo #15i
A watercolour evening dies in the arms of the night,
giving in to a starlit grave
as it's successor rises to her full moonlit glory
He adored the moon,
almost a such as he adored her
to whom he wrote his poetry when the night sky was born
She was afraid of the dark.
The moon was an ice monarch to her,
chilling her to the bones


flows over
the rocky ledge
and brilliantly into oblivion.
     Peer                                                           I see,
                                                what              that our
                                          see   &


Colourful BalloonsColourful Balloons
They float, marshmallows in skies of burned chocolate, and flicker like fairies
Whose dust has caked the cobwebbed window frame in an icing layer that is frostythick,
Frostygrey and frostymallable.
Spiders trap copulating flies in webs of silversilk spun just right from restless rears,
And within the chaos the balloons float up, up, up and away from grubby paws and gnarly nails
Whose sole purpose is to pop, pop, pop and cower at the sound of golden silence.
Balloons bounce between claustrophobic clouds
Whose cottonwool appearance has long since lost its lining – silver and gold
Are just grey and yellow, and the glass is always half empty, empty, empty
And leaking liquid into the ozone layer.
They float like melting ice, pools of colour drip, drip, dripping down onto us
As the sighing sun singes and sears – they melt like crayons on the window sill
Whose cobwebs have given way to dustmotes and dirt.
     A Fairy in a TaleA Fairy in a Tale
Like salad tossed by wild winds they wander,
Lost to all who ne'er look up, up, up and away from lonesome lives left to spoil.
They float, marshmallows in skies of burned chocolate, and flicker like fairies
Between cinnamon clouds whose silver lining has long since worn away;
Fairies, dragons, elves and all good men and women…that's where we shall begin.
On a brave day a cold knight wandered wide and far throughout the land,
For there were fairies to slay and dragons to squeeze; sneeze once, thrice…
Achio and thank you very much for your dust.
He found a road much travelled and hindered long enough to pout and ponder
As to whether roads were meant for walking, or was that just boots?
There was a bridge, and a troll, and three Billy goats gruff
Whose voices never broke and whose dreams were always desertdry.
Brave knight crossed the bridge built by burly bodies – rusted ropes and frayed planks abound;
Missing some steps –

The Daily Magnet #315 - BOP by FridgePoetProject


AriadneOh nobody ever sung about this, in their epic iambs,
about a girl, too young to be swept away from the house of her father,
finding herself in the blink of an eye on a naked beach.
White clothes torn, in the still-warm sand
the figure of the man who brought her here,
that man with his golden hair as rays of the sun
which warmed the ponds where she used to wash
her brothers' clothes with soft soap
and even softer hands, which does not now warm
her stiff body, which does not now melt
the frozen blood nor the salty tears,
lining as pearls the innocent lashes.
No nobody ever sung about this, how the wind
blew in the sails of the leaving boats,
and how the beasts howled in the woods where she found herself.
How she missed her mother, and the laughter
of her friends, but more than that missed the man who loved her,
and left her, leaving her the company of her own
bereaved thoughts, where the world turned upside down
and the gods turned their back
on their loyal followers on earth.
No she was

Mature Content


SheDevilI'm an angel
She's a riot
She's the demon
She's hells fire
... And I love her
Does it make me fallen?
Does it make me a sinner?
Should I beg forgiveness?
She's a killer
With blood on her hands
She's the devil himself
She's the wicked and the evil
She's every story's villain
She's Mefisto's mistress
But I love the way she takes me her prison
Her kisses are deadly  but sweet
Those touches are warming but quick
Her mouth is a poison but  too good to quit
Eyes like mirrors but there's no soul behind screen
I used to be an angel but now I'm in love...
     Taste meTaste me
Lick the poison of my skin
Don't try to compensate
I won't let you win
Drown in me
I taste like the ocean
I'll corrupt you with waves
I'll set you into motion
Don't you love me?
I don't
Don't you need me?
I know I don't
Don't you want me?
You're stupid if so
Wreckage of my life
Perfect set for yours to start
Taste me
I taste like wine
Rich and old
and so goddamn fine
I'll penetrate your veins
and shatter your mind
Taste me
No reason why
I'd give myself to you
But then again, why would I?


to write to winter's endi. you are snow, the frost & everything
that can bring untold fragile beauty to
the world you watch from your window, or
reduce it to slivers.
(it's your sharp wit, your razor words,
that will always be a weapon of choice.
don't lose them, for all the damage you
cause with them cannot hold a candle to
what would happen if you didn't anymore)
ii. to write to a ghost, cold & harsh with
her heart of winter, is an adventure in itself.
to mold words that rival frozen rivers &
fresh snows, without changing the landscape.
(i am a summer girl, born in the heart of
a desert and molded by the harsh sun &
heavy rains. i do not know how to be calm,
collected, or anything by a whirlwind, a
natural distaster that in neither controlled
nor on a warpath. sometimes, i wish i was
more like you, able to distance yourself
without a thought, without a care-
& then, i realized you couldn't do that
any better than me, & it turns out you're
not made of winter glass like you thought)
iii. this poem may not fin
     dress in violencewear me like the necklace
of bones, of sea floor, of wishes
of something you won't name,
won't touch, won't acknowledge
as if that makes me less
less of a threat
less dangerous,
less damaging
(so loop me around your neck,
without a worry to your wind pipe;
i'm sure it'll remain mostly intact)


UntitledThe kiss was.... Titanic.
Two souls plunged
into the icy shock of rapture's depths.
Drowned under the behemoth
of crushing desire.
    Collaboration - @chromeantennaeTutelary's Untangled QuiltTutelary's Untangled Quilt
Pull God's filament
till stripped phantoms ascend in 
unveiled firmament.
I live in the fabric of God...
only a strand in the robe called-
Infinity is the thread count.
Divinely hand-knotted ; universe...
and the far-flung reaches of
creations limbs.
Mystery ! Unravel the seams.
The celestial nursery is a key...
the doorway-
Divine within a revelation away....
threaded through with sublimation
of the archtype.
Swallow me whole Godhead!
Fodder for the next big bang of birth...
the eternal sprawl over what was
with what is.


wading (through amber waters)i went swimming in his amber oceans
one lonely summer afternoon-
well, i dipped my toes in
down to my ankles- and looked 
to make sure the shore would console my
heels if my soul never made it home
gasps and shock go hand in hand
or so they tell me,
choked-breath bullshit.
i tipped forward to glimpse deeper and lost
hold of myself, empty breast
beat-heart hunger pangs falling into 
those distilled waves
when the tide came in
i scrambled back 
ward hands against all forces
to the beachhead. knuckle-tread feet 
left well washed footprints in the shapely sand
and the funny thing is: i don't think he ever noticed
     descendantyet again, I descend with you.
if I've sworn once, I've sworn
a thousand times I'd leave,
I'd climb up and out
and away from your dimly-lit depths,
if it was the last thing I'd ever do.


Tiger Lily Tattoo--C.She has a tattoo of an unnaturally 
electric blue tiger lily on the rough side
of her left hand, fine hairs sprouting through –
tarantula legs that tickle, that tease
along the inside of my elbow
as I escort her
in her eight-inch heels
and zebra-print skirt
to her table near the window
where, through a chip in the glass,
a whistling breeze blew in my eye and
I had to turn away for a moment.
She orders the same drink
every Tuesday night;
"Shirley Temple,
extra ice, extra cherries,
no silly umbrellas, bendy straws,
or plastic sword toothpicks, please.
I'm not a little kid
with adventure on the mind”.
Wordlessly, my eyes fall 
on the heart-shaped curves
of her still-smooth face 
and I find myself intrigued,
caught like a fish
in the ruddy blush of her skin.
Her shimmer-rose lipstick
smears secrets I long to decode
around her glass; the streetlamp
on the corner
casts mystery across the rhinestones
glistening on the slopes
of her shoulders.
When her drink is gone
     Dark AshAbove a cerulean waterfall,
a mountain's broken peak
suffocates in an ash-dark sky.

Skin by NellyAsher

Beautiful Places

Journal Entry: Mon May 15, 2017, 12:35 PM
Facebook l Official Blog l Twitter l Hot Naked Photos of Me XXX l Services l FAQ l Gallery

Today I celebrate Beautiful Places

Sky-mirror by 2sidesstudio

8 by Chris-Lamprianidis

Silent Waters by Oer-Wout

Cascade Canyon - Wyoming by wyorevWaking Up by abstractcamera

soundless sunset. by AndrisBarbans

Uncle Tom House by PawelUchorczak

Katoomba Cascades by RanselBladams

Devils Punchbowl by chrisgin

Beside The Stream by MarcoHeisler

January Panorama by bogdandediu

Journal skin by TwiggyTeeluck
Image by pincel3d

H is for Harry Potter

Journal Entry: Fri May 5, 2017, 3:27 PM
Because I LOVE Harry Potter and I can;t get enough fan art.

Dobby by shonechacko

Harry Potter by ErikBjornor

Expecto Patronum (RIP Alan Rickman) by alexiuss

Potioning by Kvasii

Speedpaints: Harry Potter by coupleofkooks

Sadistic Draco Malfoy by alexzoe

Albus Dumbledore by SilentKW

Poking Draco by angelus-iom

Kick Ass Portraits

Journal Entry: Thu Apr 27, 2017, 1:18 PM
I think the title says it all.


Magical by MD-Arts

Katharina by eschultz

Banana Smile by VelvetRedBullet

week fifty two by Rona-Keller

P E T I T . F L E U R by Krissey

High Noon Drama by TEMPERATE-SAGE

Purify by IMustBeDead

The Curve by randis

Ann in flowers by SofiaLupul

Motherland Chronicles 12 - Winter's Rose by zemotion    . Mythril . by Countess-Grotesque

Heaven's alright.. by dyramisty

This Journal Skin was designed by Night-Beast

G is for Green

Journal Entry: Sun Apr 9, 2017, 12:46 PM

Today I am celebrating the color green.

Drop 11 by Ozimek2099

Spring by Mayolika-Das

Melting in green by LidiaRossana

Pyromancers by 1oshuart

Fragility by andokadesbois

Day 33 of 365 by MysticSparkleWings

Happy Birthday George... by 1001G

Aina by Lei-Mizuhime

Simplicity II by AlejandroCastillo

sunny little world by prismes

This Journal Skin was designed by Night-Beast

Beautiful Creatures in Black and White

Journal Entry: Sun Mar 12, 2017, 5:43 AM
Welcome to a new edition of my Beautiful Creatures Series.
Today we celebrate the beauty of creatures captured in black and white photography.

Lil' Ellee..... by DeoIron

tortoise by RRfantasia   The meow of my life by a3t3rnum

My Mom and Me. by oro-elui

 1709 by RJG-photos    Big Brother by MutedDreams

Ease. by Echtzeit10

Saying Goodbye by RudiVanDenHeever

This Journal Skin was designed by Night-Beast

Haiku FTW

Journal Entry: Fri Mar 10, 2017, 4:43 AM
Last month was National Haiku Month and there were many, MANY beautiful haikus written in celebration.   Here are just a few that deserve a shout out, in my humble- haiku-loving opinion.

Immortal Now Fallen (Haiku)Immortal Fallen
Torn feathers tumble;
Angels follow, now mortal,
Rain falls as God mourns.

by   :iconmagicaljoey:   MagicalJoey

Winner of :iconpoets-and-warriors:  Celestial Haiku Contest.

IcarusWith faith in magic
Icarus takes to the skies
on melting wax wings.

by :iconnightshade03:  Nightshade03

Winner of :iconpoeticalcondition:'s Magical Haiku Contest.

Reunion“How?” she asks, mid-smile
Stray sisters, hemispheres parted
“The wind carried me.”

by   :iconharperq:   HarperQ

2nd place winner of :iconpoeticalcondition:'s Magical Haiku Contest.

We Surviveof smoke and fire
we are made to withstand life
through the darkest times

by  :iconinsomniawriter:   InsomniaWriter

Winner of :iconhaikuwrimo:'s Week four Contest.

F is for Fiction

Journal Entry: Sun Feb 26, 2017, 5:37 AM

SO MUCH good fiction being written and posted here on DA.  Want to see some?

Driftwood - Day 7Algernon's cheek lies against the beach. There’s grit in his eyes, sand in his mouth. His throat could only be drier if it were sand. As he crawls away from the surf licking at his feet- he managed to lose a shoe and half his breeches- he comes slowly into full consciousness.
“El diablo,” he whispers, remembers the lashing tentacles ripping his ship in two. Through blurry eyes, he sees one half of his ship, a very fine aft, balanced precariously atop a sheer cliff before him.
Clutching his side with a shaking hand, he remembers his most trusted friend ripping his cutlass through Algernon’s flesh.
The storm howls about them, the ship bucking on the waves, steel spilling Algernon’s blood across the deck of his own ship. A tentacle grasps Miguel, who still screams nonsense like a madman.
“I see you for what you are, devil!” he seems not to know what coils around is waist, or that he is being hoisted in the air like a toy. The tentacle lashes ba

The Business of Dreams“So what’s the pitch?” asked Harper as he strode into the room. “This better not be a waste of my time like last time.”
Swallowing his annoyance, Victor took a seat at the meeting table. They’d been waiting almost an hour for the asshole to make an appearance but sure, they were wasting his time. “I'll leave that for you to decide sir,” he said in his most neutral tone. “But we think it has potential.” He glanced at Sophie, the other dream tech in the meeting room who took that as her cue to begin.
“This one’s a sci-fi,” Sophie said, “Nothing too freaky. Take a look Mr. Harper.” She swiveled in her chair to face the large touch screen in front of her, adjusted her glasses and keyed up one of the images that had been recorded less than twelve hours ago.   
The screen showed a set stage for a kid’s television show. This particular set was of a garage with kitschy objects mount

Punctured“Car,” said the bicycle, “we need to talk.”
“Oh, Assembly-Robot. Oh, exhaust. It’s one of those talks, isn’t it?” said the car. “About our relationship.”
“Yes. The thing is…” The bicycle hesitated. “I think we both just need a bit more space.”
“Oh.” The car looked around the garage. “It does need a bit of a clear-out. They could get rid of that old TV for a start…”
“No. No,” said the bicycle. “I’m talking about emotional space.” It sighed. “We both knew this was coming. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been a lot of fun. I really enjoy it when I’m strapped to your rack—”
“Will you keep your voice down,” said the car.
“—but anyone can see how well you’ve been getting along with the new moped. And sometimes… Sometimes I just feel like a third wheel.”
The car

The PharmacyThe store was empty that morning in a way that didn't seem right. Jim looked up from the pharmacy counter and did a quick head count. There should have been at least a dozen people around the store by now, but he could only see the tops of three heads, and they all seemed to be together. He lifted the phone and called the front, but no one picked up. He gave it at least six rings, then hung up and paged them instead.
"Front end, please call the pharmacy department."
He hung the phone up again and waited. Those three customers in aisle two weren't moving around much. "C'mon," he muttered, staring at the phone. It didn't ring.
Jim pulled out his cell phone to see if he missed a text from them. Doctor Miller should have been in by now too, and where the hell are Melissa and Frank?
"Jesus," he said, deciding it wasn't worth worrying about. He sat down and went back to his paperwork, telling himself not to worry. At some point though, he realized the store's music had gotten louder,

Last Night, I Dreamed That We DiedThis was it. They were searching the house – his father, his younger brother and sister, thank God they were far away. It was just he and his mother… and the others. The ones who wouldn’t let go of the past, the ones who insisted the future was darker with him in it. He knew they would fall in the end. Change would overwhelm them like a glacier: far, far too slow, but unstoppable. He only wished that stopped the fact that they were going to kill him.
“Are you scared?” He asked his mother, as the footsteps grew louder and a rifle started chattering, far too close. She didn’t have time to answer – he saw the muzzle flashes first, hundreds a second, from around the corner. The bullets were moving too fast to track with eyes alone, but their effect on her was immediate; she fell to one side and didn’t move, and the wall was red. Absentmindedly, he realized with regret that after so much work to bring them all under one roof again, his family

The Moral Ethics of Subtle IronyAuburn strands spool across her shoulder blades; spindles of fire-silk setting her ablaze.
Her real name was Scarlet but I'd only ever heard people refer to her as Red. The first time I saw her cherrywood curls I felt  my face wrinkle up in wry scrutiny. Does she purposely color her hair that ostentatious shade or is it  natural?  If so, her parents possess a keen sense of irony.
Months later we were guzzling Stolichnaya in a musty garage.  Rotted beer cans shuddered as I slammed the bottle onto a workbench riddled with cigarette burns.  Her freckled phalanges groped negligently towards the vodka. She then pulled it to her lips, and proceeded to spill copious amounts in an attempt to ingest the liquid.  I eyed her scrupulously, pondering the moral ethics of providing a minor with alcohol, but then her cheeks creased into a coy smile and I realized I don't give a shit.
"You're always so stoic." She says with droplets drizzling down her chin.

Aurora BorealisI always wanted to watch the Lights. Greens and golds, blues and purples storming, shimmering – dancing across the night like nymphs chasing butterflies. A decadent canvas of light and wonder peering down at me as I gaze into infinity, the eternal beauty of a universe billions of years old and greater than my poor mind could ever contemplate. As they sashay their way across the midnight sky, colours bouncing off the snow like tiny mirrors throwing rainbows across the room; all I can think about is how simple everything is. If you stand still for a moment, you can observe as the entire world moves around you: a chorus of raucous chaos and cacophony that breathes life into every dark space. You can see that as life is made more and more intricate, it is not in fact complex. We just make it that way. We hide ourselves in our fortresses of solitude, behind masks and medications and vices, and we pretend to be whatever we think we are meant to be. And the people who decide what others

The HuntShawn crept into the night.  The door made a soft click as he gently closed oak door.  His parents probably known that he  was leaving into the darkness until the crack of dawn approaches but he dosen’t care.  His parents would probably care more but he receives excellent grades in school and in attendance so his parents say nothing.  Besides it was one of those nights
Adopted at the age of three, Shawn began to display his differences.  The moon cycles came and went that first month he was at his new home and that’s when his parents noticed that things got a little hairy.  Fur in thick patches grew from his doughy peach colored skin.  The fur as dark as his hair covered Shawn from head to toe.  Little claws pointed into formation across where  his nails were.  Instead of being flimsy the nails were now as hard as steel.  His parents watch the transformation transfixed on their bundle of joy as he slept.  Slow

Last GoodbyeMay I hold you?
He extended his hand to her, praying she would take his offer. No words passed between them as time ticked by. She studied him, trying to read his thoughts. A smile formed on her lips as she placed her hand in his. Carefully, he lifted her from the chair and wrapped an arm about her small waist. He held her close; her perfume filled his senses with a flood of happy memories. Like all the ones before, he wanted this moment to be imprinted – forever.
May I be your shield?
Gently guiding her around the room, he noted her fragile figure. It made his heart cry. They had been through so much, and he was not ready to accept this as the end. She had fought hard through every obstacle; defying the odds at every turn. The pit in his stomach told him she no longer had the same push anymore; the same battle stance to take it all on. As his heart lowered to the floor with the ultimate realization, he looked deep into her eyes. The sparkle, though faint, was still

A Light in the DarkAnd there it was. Right above the horizon.
As the sun dipped low and day fell into its nighttime stupor, he felt uplifted. At peace. Like he could die at that moment and everything would be okay.
He reached out and caressed the moon. His fingers traced the outline of its full shape. The stars raced across the night sky leaving him stunned by their effervescent light. Here one minute, gone the next as they chased each other across the galaxy.
His hand fell to the cold wet grass. This was it.
He felt the pain course outward from his chest. Pumping further out towards his limbs with each heartbeat. With jagged breath he brought his hand to his heart. His warmth was bleeding through his jacket. Soaking into the grass. The very essence of him escaping and becoming one with the earth once again.
It wasn’t as terrifying as he thought it would be. Just lonely. But then what did he expect? He was making this journey alone. No amount of company could change that.
He took in another pained

HaikuWriMo's Week Three Contest Winner

Journal Entry: Sat Feb 25, 2017, 5:22 AM

:iconhaikuwrimo: just announced their Week Three Contest Winner!

Check out this awesome haiku written by :iconhaijinik:    haijinik

the seasons' family treeThis and That's children-
-Hot and Cold's parents

Some crazy good stuff being written for these contests.  Check it out here:…

Happy HaikuWriMo everyone!  

Tell many haikus have you written this month?

Haiku Challenge Winners

Journal Entry: Sat Feb 18, 2017, 1:25 PM

HaikuWriMo 2017

Journal Entry: Fri Feb 10, 2017, 5:22 PM

Happy National Haiku everyone!

I take part in HaikuWriMo- writing a new haiku every day in February.   These people do too!

2017 HaikuWriMo1 Time
Tic toc, time moves on
to a place no one can reach.
It's one step ahead.
2 The Girl
She in her red dress
dances away with passion,
asking you to join.
3 Every Morning
How many times can a
lark make the doberman bark?
Their morning antics.
4 Shield
Brick by brick I build
you up. Your walls are sturdy.
They will keep me safe.
5 Crybaby
Ungrateful features
fall from the slightest, even
if given the world.
6 Clouds
Sweet white cotton in
thy ears, and peaceful warmth
makes you quite content.
7 Green
Green stars outside your
window. Sleepy reminders
of a time long still.
8 Too Much
It's overheating
the system; initiate
the cooling ice age.
9 In Hiding
Ink spots that don't drip
when the rain falls hard. Whiskers
twitch from a hollow.
10 Crickets
Night has now fallen.
There is pure silence. The loud
crickets are missing.
11 Not a Bird
Scale by scale she weaves
it forward. In the shining
dawn the chick will hatch.
12 Red Velvet
Red chocolate made
for love. But in the end, isn't
it just c

     HaikuWriMo 20172/28
dead but for the roots
anticipating new leaves 
on the ivy
new moon
searching all night 
for a lost love
breath from the sun
in-between winter draughts
frosty breaths
souls stolen
by the cold
sun's last touch
trees aflame
with no fire
fooled again
Canada geese decoys
down by the pond
ghosts ingrained
wisps and whisperings
in old wood
cloud-shadow islands
puddle and drift
Italian cypress 
in the cemetery
silent sentinels
a hawk's flight
through sheets of sleet
no nest is warm
   sunny butterfly
'round a blue-bottle tree
spring's spirit let loose
taste of her lip gloss
still lingers from their last kiss
tea is left to cool
trip for groceries becomes
an epic journey
acres of farmland
developed into suburbs
we're eating Chinese
sprinkling of stars
crumbs fallen from a bite
of moon cookie
cloudy night
if it weren't for fireflies
we'd have

          HaikuWriMo 20171. ice fishing
rainbow koi paint trails
in a backyard pond
while cat skates thin ice above
2. Rorschach musings
homemade lava lamp:
vinegar and oil churn Rorschachs
in plastic bottles
3. bathing rituals
toasted sugar wafts
from pruned fingertips:
lotion after hot baths
4. commuting weather
fluffy flakes rendezvous
with black asphalt
as wet tires slur sluggishly
5. cloud curtains
day shines a flashlight
through thick folds of curtain:
a break in the clouds
6. shower scents
morning bliss and peppermint meringue;
hot water runs rivulets
down aching muscles
7. backyard at night
outside closed windows
a loud, maniacal laugh:
ducks at rest on a pond
8. morning murder
tiny black specks
smeared across ridged fingertips:
squashed ants
9. Sahara tongue
patched and parched,
desert crevices fill quickly
as water falls
10. stroke of day
mother moon jolts awake
surrounded by blue sheets;
day terrors
11. alligator heels

                                                           HaikuWriMo 2017Day 1:
rust and cobalt hang
overhead; barley and oat
rise to greet them.
Day 2:
undress your fears and
let me lead you into the dark;
the wolf and the fawn
Day 3:
your trinkets fail to
sustain when the emptiness
calls you home
Day 4:
you let the bad in
to become overgrown;
the thistle and the weeds
Day 5:
the dawn drips vibrant reds
and golds across the morning;
a skyward canvas
Day 6:
I am asleep under the frost,
and there is silence in my soul
as I wait for spring.
Day 7:
the rain came in waves
as the sky opened up
to sing its hymn
Day 8:
words fall from these
scarlet fingertips;
they measure out [her] fragments
Day 9:
naked winter trees
line up in a row
under a blanket of snow 
Day 10:
vibrant flowers dance in
the breeze of the countryside;
ethereal and divine.
Day 11:
memories settle like dust
into her old home;
their decay a marker
of uncounted days. 
Day 12:
you color me irrelevant
and I let the words linger;
they found a home underneath.
Day 13:
Soft sunlight casts

                                            2017 February HaikuWriMo5 Erasing Hate
      subway passengers
   working together
      to erase hate
4 Temple of the Sun
      a whole city
   lining up for morning mass —
      temple of the sun
3 For The Birds
      out on the ice
   groups of geese square off —
      cold war
2 Cannonball!
      leaping off the ice
   a duck splashes merrily —
      sun-warmed waters

                                                                                                 HaikuWriMo - 20171 - Eagle Flight

Power, it pulses
in the beat of wings –
   Free spirit, fly
2 - Paeonia
Honoured beauty,
I bow to your grace –
   Love, a stranger
3 - Shooting Star
An icy heart,
how it warms in the sun –
   Everything falls
4 - Hope
Paper dreams,
they fly from human hands - 
    Cranes of hope
5 - Sol et Luna

Mirroring bright,
she captures his rays, bathing us
   in their shared light
6 - Astronauts
they swim with celestial grace –
   Goldfish astronauts
7 - Lady Winter
it slips into my veins –
   Lady Winter returns
8 - City Lights
Golden light
illuminates the city dark –
   Guide me home
9 - Rosa
Torn by love,
I will blossom again
   ever stronger
10 - Robin's Glory
Yellow rays of sun
light the earth with hope –

           haikuwrimoomirwukiah 2017 - completeI
hi, my name is chris,
and i am an elihphile.
wow! i just said that!
i'd run from my dad,
but never from my father:
since i was a tot
i've suffered ailihphilia;
i loved my mom lots.
she knocks -tattarrattat-
and sees no one's home.
"i am afraid, dear,
that i feel evitative,"
she said timidly.
"tut-tut," said bob.
"you shouldn't be a revver,
you'll break your racecar."
is a kayak best
when boating with a kazak?
perhaps a kelek?
i, with words, make real
that which is merely abstract;
i, reifier.
it is not our clay,
but our seities that matter;
focus, then, inward.
i fled from my thoughts,
but i'm denned within my mind,
trapped in my captors.
pass that pipe, my friend.
i don't smell kinnikinnik...
in  the best of ways.
i'll repaper my notebook...
it'll need a facelift.

                                A Haiku collectionNeed a coffee break
Wake me up with some caffeine
Say no to decaf  
Tired, so tired
When can I go back to sleep
I’m yawning all day
Parades; deck the town
Bands from Louisiana
Party anyhow
New Orleans this isn’t
And not Fat Tuesday either
But it’s Mardi Gras
Love the warm weather
There is no need for a coat
Hope it stays like this
Through the looking glass
Is a very different world
Do you dare explore?
The bold bird strutting
Fanning out his tail feathers
Looking for a mate
Turn the page again
Just one more chapter, I swear
Then I’ll go to sleep
Bring the curtain down
The actors will take their bows
The show is over
Stuck inside today
Soon I’ll be free to enjoy
The pretty weather
Poetry is fun
Counting syllables again
As well as lines; words
It’s too cold outside
I wish it would get warmer
I really hate cold
I want to count stars
What an impossible task
To do in one night
Vampire wine and
A plethora of movies
Pull out the black clothes

                  HaikuWriMoDay 01:
Our love, like pancakes
home-made and golden and sweet
topped with maple sauce
Day 02:
Dancing with the stars
in orbit around the sun
our wings - still melting
Day 03:
Little devil, dance
with fire in the library
light makes better reading
Day 04:
Live it like a dog:
if it's not fun and not food
take a piss and leave!
Day 05:
Plenty of trees
summer's perfume dances here
still some see no forest.
Day 06:
Growing Up
While he was watching
before his eyes she became
someone so different
Day 07:
blackened skies darkened
by crow wings
Day 08:
Silence on the train
no talking, just rustling coats
on monday morning.
Day 09:
Between gray concrete
buildings, just a hint of green
synthetic turf
Day 10:
Second-hand thrill
In front of the screen we're safe
from the monsters within.

                                                                                 Haikuwrimo Feb201728
signs of spring
longer evenings
and shedding horses
still day
quiet house
cats asleep
old bridle
another piece
slow falling snow
a blanket
silencing the street
tiny tiny tan moth
blends into the floor
baffling cats
February fire season
I worry
what August will be like
22 for Amy
gnarled apple tree
bent by the snow
of a hundred years
clouds slowly climbing
the mountain
midnight thunder-
kitten chasing her tail
in the bathtub
February haiku
should be about snow
not grass fires and short sleeves
once a Ute winter camp
our hiking trail
overlooks the cement plant
smell of bacon lingers
even the next day
I am hungry
winter rose bush
nothing but thorns
a windblown shirt blooms
after evacuation
time to go home-
my horse won't leave his new friend
dancing in the kitchen
to rediscovered song
funky funky
jeans still smell like smoke
once more
through the wash
side by side
dressage show horses
and shaggy backyard donkeys
last check on the

Stop by :iconhaikuwrimo: for haiku prompts and contest galore this month!   :heart:


Oldies but GOODies

Journal Entry: Fri Feb 10, 2017, 10:08 AM

Today I am featuring some of the first deviations I ever faved.  They've been around for a while but they still deserve a little love.

Check em' out.   :heart:


Burn the sky 4th by bast-86

Identites - Cortex by Kaalam

Ambrosia by purplerosePage of Poison by Muddy-On-Fire

ShadowDance by Hengki24

The Silent Sun by theflickerees

Azud de Oro by Alobasalamander by sassaputzin

'that's all folks' by IntroIntro

Enchanted forest by ricky4

This Journal Skin was designed by Night-Beast

HaikuWriMo Week One Contest Winner!

Journal Entry: Thu Feb 9, 2017, 12:20 PM

We want to share the winner of :iconhaikuwrimo:'s first contest this month.

Please show this wonderfully talented deviant some LOVE.

Beckoning LightsSewn into the sky
Patterns of fire and light
Singing of new life

by :iconinsomniawriter:   InsomniaWriter

All of the incredible entries can be found here:…

Thank you and happy National Haiku Month!  :heart:

It's Haiku time

Journal Entry: Sun Feb 5, 2017, 8:56 AM

Happy National Haiku Month everyone!

I, for one, will be writing lots haikus. :heart:

Over at :iconhaikuwrimo: there will be weekly contests and prompts!
CONTEST TIME! Week One Hello everyone and Happy HaikuWriMo! I deeply apologize for this late contest start and I will offer 100 MORE points for this week's contest!
We are happy to announce our first contest. We will be having one each week this month!
The theme for our first contest is....
We are challenging you to write a haiku that fits this theme, but please feel to interpret at will. We LOVE creativity!
We will pick one winner each week. Each winner will receive 200 points and features by :iconprettyflour:, :iconpoeticalcondition:  and :iconpoets-and-warriors:
Entries can be submitted here:
Let's talk about the rules for a moment.
Your entry MUST be a haiku- no exceptions.
Entries should fit the theme of fantasy.
You can submit one entry per contest.
Please mention this contest in the description of your entry please.  
The deadline for submitting is Thursday February 9th 2:

Over at :icondeviantsgallery: they will be having haiku challenges through the month. Here's the first one:

Challenge #32- A Haiku Challenge Winners!And now we have the VERY BEST of our Haiku challenge.    :heart:

by   :iconfarren-wintersstudio:   Farren-WintersStudio

by   :iconsaiun:     saiun
Congratulations and thank you to everyone who participated!
Stay tuned for our next challenge!
In honor of National Haiku Month, our 32nd challenge is for you to write us a Haiku.  
In our recent poll it was decided to leave the theme open, so write us a haiku about whatever you want. The sky is the limit!
Here are the rules:
-leave us a comment here with a link to your creation.
-mention this challenge in the description of your deviation.
-this can be any type of Haiku- the traditional 5-7-5 is cool, but we will accept any Haiku form.
-the deadline is February 15th.
We will pick two deviations to be featured in our 'Best Of' folder along with 50 points each!
Happy Haiku Writing!

Here is a few new haikus that I've stumbled upon that I wanted to share. :heart:

Day 1rust and cobalt hang overhead;
barley and oat rise to greet them.
    extra-solar searchesas i enter the trees, my mind and
soul doppler-shift. my mind recedes
back into a low thrum and blue-cum-green
light; my soul slips forward into a
high warble and a red-cum-brown glow.
in between
is seen life's wobble
in orbit.

the masks are slipping
as we say goodbye
    Skirlin my headlights
snow swirling
the road invisible

Over at :iconpoeticalcondition: they are having a haiku contest!

Magical Haiku Contest Winners!It gives me great pleasure to announce the winners of our Magical Haiku Contest!  Let's give a big ole congratulations to...
1st place winner

by   :iconnightshade03:   Nightshade03
2nd place winner:

by   :iconharperq:   HarperQ
You can check out all of the FANTASTIC entries here:
Thank you to everyone who participated.  I hope you all had a wonderful HaikuWriMo!   :heart:
Hello everyone and happy National Haiku Month!
In celebration we are holding a contest. A magical haiku contest!
That's right, our theme for this contest is Magic.
100 points to the 1st place winner!!   50 points for the 2nd place winner.
The rules:
-The deadline for this contest is March 1st.
-You must mention this contest in your description.
-haikus only please, but any form of haiku is acceptable, it doesn't have

Over at :iconpoets-and-warriors: they are having a haiku contest too!

Celestial Haiku Contest Winners!It gives me great pleasure to announce the winners of our Celestial Haiku Contest!  Let's give a great big congratulations to...
1st place winner:

by    :iconmagicaljoey:
2nd place winner:

by :icontatlntael:     tatlntael
You can check out all of the FANTASTIC entries here::
Thank you to everyone who participated.  I hope you all had a wonderful HaikuWriMo!    :heart:
Hello everyone and happy National Haiku Month!
In celebration we are holding a contest. A celestial haiku contest!
We found the following definitions of celestial:
- positioned in or relating to the sky, or outer space as observed in astronomy. "a celestial body"
- belonging or relating to heaven.
- supremely good.
Write us a celestial haiku and win prizes!
100 points to the 1st place winner!!  50 points for the 2nd place winner.
The rules

and hey, check out my newest haiku. :heart:

artificial and unrequitedmy butterfly friend
who flies away when it rains
please don’t let me rust

Have you written any haikus yet this month? If you have, please share. Leave me some links in the comments and give me some great new haikus to read. :)