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About Literature / Hobbyist J.E. Bond27/Male/United States Recent Activity
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Journey by Forneverywhere Journey :iconforneverywhere:Forneverywhere 1 0
Literature
In Thought of Being
In Thought of Being, Nature and Self at Six A.M.
It is in the morning fog that the earth washes away its collected grime. The spring air catches the first zephyr of the day and even the sounds of nature itself pervert the blissful contemplation that one seems to find there. In this silent repose, some inner dawn splashing light on petty things brings forth what one can only hope to be true serenity and understanding. In this we should feel humbled by our own lack of understanding for what small actions do comprise our fundamental selves.
As a writer in any means, one should never string two or more words together; no matter how gilded and insightful they may be; unless they know with one hundred percent truth that they will not be thrown together solely to fill a page, in essence to fill the silence. Words have the force of meaning, and misguided meaning leads only to great falsehoods.
Strive to simplify yourself. Stop for a mere moment when you feel most busy and look outside of yours
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Breathless by Forneverywhere Breathless :iconforneverywhere:Forneverywhere 1 0 Aphotic by Forneverywhere Aphotic :iconforneverywhere:Forneverywhere 4 0 Transcendant by Forneverywhere Transcendant :iconforneverywhere:Forneverywhere 1 0
Literature
In These Worlds
In the worlds of black and white,
A single star does stay,
Blinding in the sharp contrast,
A dazzling overlay.
In the worlds of green and blue,
The tears will never flow,
Drifting on from a distant past,
Those ancient hurts will never show.
In the worlds of orange and red,
The heart still beats away,
Longing for some hope too vast,
Some romantic left to sway.
In the world of indigo,
The light skitters on askew,
Sharpening a lulled repast,
And slanting at the view.
In the world of hopeless gray,
The world is perched on edge,
Lingering in silent fast,
Forsworn some lofty pledge.
In the world where I exist,
A soul had fled to me,
As if some spell upon me cast,
Had brought me to my Buhbee.
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Literature
His New Look
A heart still beats, a pulse to race,
Lenses clear, to frame a face,
An arm will reach, when I draw near,
A glance will cast, so listen here:
A word will burn, the sky ablaze,
My spirits lifting, too high to raise,
Fingers touching, our smile's too,
Such kindly eyes pierce me through.
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Literature
Till the Shadow-Woman Comes
We pay our homage to this nightly hag
Her mottled flesh and ragged hair do bind and twist
Such cinder-bearing eyes will burn erstwise ever glaring
Beneath the porcelain inlay called Her face transfixed
We keep our lights on lest we fear what we choose not to see
But when we see that nothing in the corner staring back
T'is death quite duly lain upon our thrumming hearts!
We bolt all open portals shut with iron bar and steely hand
We lay our heads to rest upon this toothy grave
Fear will seep like fetid ooze will creep and crawl down deep
Blood does not quench Her, flesh will not sate Her
Oh, shadow-woman do not show me who you were!
Upon this night-thing tethered surreally under pillows slain
She comes hunting, she comes scratching, marring, bleeding-thumping
Taking those who gaze upon what we choose not to see
She has no wings, yet still she is some darksome faerie come to me
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Literature
Aboard the Zephyr
Return from whence your starry waves did see fit to wander,
Tacking sails do strive your galley homeward bound,
Treetops sing the siren's song of loft and balmy skies,
As mountains stand on widow's peak, kissing them goodbye.
All the world is your unpromised ocean, commrades at your side,
Ne'er a shadow dare to taunt you above the truest arrow's flight,
Fill the mind with dream-stuff, jetsam of your unweighted wake,
Capture eyes in madly vision, unpictured in the daring tide,
Now round about to your home and port, until you turn again,
Sail off, float on, my most fairweathered friend.
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Literature
Paper Flower
Guided by a rule and measure,
Nothing like its other kin,
Frowned upon in guilt, displeasure,
Straining fibers wearing thin.
Having colors of miserly hue,
It stands abreast in the lonely sill,
Sobbing till its face turns blue,
Disheartened weeping turns to thrill.
A single color, azure tint,
Came to call, sat to rest,
Stayed and stopped an idle stint,
The paper flower feeling blessed.
The moon did rise, his face aglow,
His tallow wisps began to dip,
As wax, a candle, the color flow,
To land upon that paper strip.
In the dawn the sun had stirred,
The fervid crimson flying fast,
As if to find the flower, spurred,
The dye had now been cast.
And when he woke, the man did stare,
His paper flower bleached in light,
Rainbow dyed, a pomp affair,
To leave the worlds of black and white.
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Literature
Cold Angel
Riven are your winter lips,
The snowy halo of your eyes.
You are my cold angel,
Anti-gelid love in disguise.
Wreathed in your misty veil,
Warm breath upon my cheek,
Encase me your icy grip,
Our summer we will seek.
Vanished has the moon,
Black umbras in your hair,
Out from underneath your wings,
My cold angel, he does stare.
Snow on the horizon,
Frigid in his dark refrain,
Beneath this winter dome,
My livelihood sustain.
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Literature
Aviary Anthem
Honey-sweetened sunsets linger in the air,
While bedizen birds loll around without care,
On they aubade to the sun in such prayer,
Lifting up life straight from the bone.
Into the summer, on they do soar,
First only few, now ten-dozen score,
Drifting and sinking like some heavenly shore,
As stardust in the winds they are thrown.
The din has settled, now turned serene,
Chords are strung, that lilting keen,
Words do tumble, mondegreen,
Their lyrics still to hone.
In lapidary chorus, each voice does ordain,
Such humble lapses it does duly contain,
And lacuna accord such songs do sustain,
For no hour is left to postpone!
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Literature
Boys of Sommer Pt19
Thankfully the purple and green haired lady from 801 called into her boss and asked if we could
keep my Celica in their lot overnight. Or just until I could manage to get it back home, I got the okay on that,
thank goodness. Matt was nice enough to give the three of us a lift back to my place, so I  decided to let them
come in for a bit. Only a bit because at the moment I just don’t feel very social… at all. It’d be nice if Jane
and Pete would go home too, but I invited them over to begin with, and what kind of friend would force out
people they told to drop by? Not a very good one, to be sure.
“So this is where you live? It’s pretty nice.” Matt’s talking to me, I know that much, but I’m finding
it hard to care at the moment. Behind me Peter rifles through the bag with all of our DVD’s in it. I look over
my shoulder to see what he’s doing; completely shooting Matt down in the process; I give Pete a skeptical
look. If he&
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Literature
Boys of Sommer Pt18
After renting out the movies that we found onto Peter’s account, we went back to my Celica in the
lot next to the building. I did a pretty craptastic job of parking but I was a little excited at the prospect of
going to my first gay movie store. I know, I know, that’s a lame excuse... But it’s no less valid. Jane, Pete
and I pile into my clown car of a vehicle and we all buckle up. I fire up the-
Whrrrrrr.... thunk
I try to turn the engine again.
Whrrrrrrrrrrrrr.... spunk...
Wrrrwrrrrrrrrrr.... clunk...
“Shit...” I slam a fist into the dashboard, not hard enough to do more than startle my friends. “Just a
sec, guys. Let me check under the hood.” I don’t understand, my dad and I just had my baby tuned up two
months ago as a kind of birthday present for me. What could be wrong with it so soon? I clunk around under
the hood for awhile and can’t find a single thing out of whack. Getting back into the driver’s seat, I see if the
en
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Literature
Boys of Sommer Pt17
“Hello, Peter.” I hear from the front of the store called ‘801’. I don’t get the joke, but Pete thinks
it’s hilarious. He said he’d explain it to me in a bit. “Can I see your ID’s, please?” A purple and green haired
woman behind the counter looks at Jane and I.
“Here you are, Ma’am.” I quickly pull out my wallet and flash the woman my horrid ID from two
months ago. I got it taken three days after my birthday. Needless to say, it’s a horrible picture. I have a goofy
grin plastered on my face in a crooked kind of way, and there’s some stray hair flying out in a few directions
from the top of my head. I think that I even have a pimple on my left cheek…My self-consciousness aside, I
step beside Peter, waiting for Jane to sift through her purse in search for her wallet. A few moments later the
woman behind the counter is pleased and tells us that if we need any help, to just ask. Curious as to w
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Literature
Boys of Sommer Pt16
“So you’re not going to tell anyone, are you...?” I can plainly see a look of desperation looming
deep within Matt’s irises; smothering in it’s intensity. Frankly I’m surprised that Matt’s talking to me about
this whole deal with me in public. You’d think he’d realize that more people eavesdrop than he thinks.
Demerit for Matt.
“Honestly?” I know that I’m just toying with him, but he seems to be agonizing wholeheartedly
over this. I open my mouth, then close it in mock hesitation. This feels like just desserts at some sinister
banquet. But I know that I can’t play this out as long as I’d like to. “No. I won’t tell anyone. Not even Jane.”
I pause theatrically, mostly for a chance to think about how to say my next few words properly. “If she
guesses though, don’t come on the man-hunt. Kay?”
“Fine…” Matt looks at me out of the side of his eyes; I get t
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The world was twice as large.
The sun worked twice as hard.
The moon was twice as far.
And the sky was still honestly blue.

Can't seem to get these lyrics out of my mind, for once a good earworm.

It makes me want to write about Tarquinn for some reason.

By the Nine, Eighteen and the Hundred;
J.E. Bond

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Forneverywhere
J.E. Bond
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
I promise that I have never been a dead mime.
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:iconskippythekid:
skippythekid Featured By Owner Aug 23, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
OMG, you can see me taking your pic in your ID.

Alas, Babylon... I've been detected...
....
And you've been boned. ;)
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Forneverywhere Featured By Owner Jun 2, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Not gay as in happy.

Queer as in fuck you.
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