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About Literature / Hobbyist Jess DewdneyFemale/United Kingdom Recent Activity
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Literature
Grandma
Grandma, I can’t help but notice
You have os-teo-perosis
And my increasing neurosis
Wants to push you down the stairs
I just find your presence cloying
And your voice and face annoying
So instead of simply toying
With you, I’ll push you down the stairs
I’ll make sure that you don’t feel it
You can’t avoid or try to appeal it
Your doom I am going to seal it
When I push you down the stairs
I’m not all that good at lying, really
To do so would be trying, really
So I’ll say I sent you flying, merely,
When I pushed you down the stairs
No doubt I’ll go to prison then
But if I don’t hear your voice again
I’ll consider it a blessing when
I pushed you down the stairs
The people I feel sorry for
Are my mummy and my daddy or
My brother who’ll have to mop the floor
At the bottom of the stairs
And in gaol I will not care
If some larger prisoner there
Decides to push me down some stairs
Because I’d still be rid of you.
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Literature
What am I?
I wish that I was beautiful. Some people think I am, but I get mixed reviews. People see within me whatever it is they choose. Many people laugh at me when they see my form: others’ gazes slide around. To them I am the norm, neither beautiful nor deformed – but what I would not give to see their cold expressions warm.
Many of my kin are beautiful: some are angry; some are comic. Some express a deep emotion; some are lazy and laconic. What am I? I’m none of these, neither profound nor yet ironic. (Unless you observe these feelings on my face – whatever you perceive will be upon it).
My mother was a coffee bean, my father was a swan. I was conceived on the shores of a lake while the waters gleamed and shone.
I am as my parents made me. Nothing more, and nothing less. But I wish to be something greater, to this conceit I will confess.
For I do wish to be beautiful, like my brothers and my sisters, whose beauty has been written of so much admirer’s hands erupt
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Mature content
There you are. You're so beautiful. :iconcrazylankygirl:Crazylankygirl 0 0
Literature
So There.
Our relationship has sailed
Right off the edge of this dull, flat Earth
The waters
Cascading
Down
Into
Eternity.
And if you think
This imagery
Smacks slightly of
Hyperbole
That’s because
It is.
I never liked you all that much, anyway.
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Literature
Someday
Someday, I’ll be happy
Someday, I’ll be glad
Someday, I’ll see the sunlight
And stop being so sad.
Someday, I’ll be happy
This is what I swear
And until I find this happiness
I’ll keep saying this prayer.
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Mature content
Stimulate My Roth :iconcrazylankygirl:Crazylankygirl 0 0
Literature
My Beautiful Game
If you saw a smile greasing my face
Across the square in some public place
You would never guess that this servile grin
Hides the corruption lurking within
I am hunched, I am awkward, I’m eager to please
Humility’s a mask that I slip on with ease
You’d never guess that this face or this windswept mane
Hides one evil smile and one cunning brain
‘If you do say so yourself!’ – Yes, friend, I do;
One must resist the compulsion to tell an untruth
Modesty’s overrated – and I’ll tell you this;
So are friendship, fate and true love’s first kiss
There is only one thing on this Earth you can do;
Harness the brain that our Maker gave you
Some people, you see, let theirs go to waste
But I’m more enlightened than their bovine caste
My brilliance is channelled into your degradation
The subtle art known to the worthy as manipulation
Every slack jaw or eye all aglaze
Every mind that’s been dulled by an ignorant haze
Is fair game a
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Literature
Harlequins
Ladies and gentlemen, I bid you hello!
Are you all feeling well? I really must know.
If the answer I’m about to receive is a yes
Then you’ve made my job harder; I expected no less.
For I’m here to tell you about how I feel;
What is fake and what is inescapably real.
Though don’t tell my friends; they must never know
That this person you see is put on just for show.
My friends call me Jester, and my purpose and aim
Is to provide you with mirth, much to my shame
Because let us be honest; no-one values
Puppets and toys who exist to amuse
Physically, I’m perfect! I’m so out of place
With my glasses and height and my train-track brace
Soon you’ll be clutching your sides with glee
But you’ll only see Jester, you’ll never see me
Where there are cracks in the road both great and small
You see a hold-up; I see a pratfall
And my height makes that sign-post so perfectly placed
To hit me dead-centre smack in the face
You will roll on the floor,
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Literature
Blue Eyes
I once lost my heart to a pair of Blue Eyes
But blue is a colour I’ve come to despise
Where at first I saw love, I then saw contempt
For my mind and my body; no part was exempt
For three years those Blue Eyes had me in their snare
An intangible web made of love and despair
Blue stands for calm, but inaction is cold
And those glacial depths held secrets untold
It’s true what they say about icebergs, you know
Ninety per cent of their mystery is hidden below
Blue eyes like ice, which seared me like fire
Filled with gross lust and low-down desire
They filled me with love and then burning shame
For once my passion had doused Their flame
The Blue Eyes which minutes before had held lust
Regard me with a sneering and blatant disgust
For years I was merely a means to his end
And on those brief moments, I had come to depend
For when I held Them inside my embrace
Love, once again, would enter Their face
And through the bliss and the passion I used to pray
That the look in those Eyes w
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Mature content
It's Still My Choice :iconcrazylankygirl:Crazylankygirl 0 0
Literature
The Ballad of Humpty Dumpty
When Humpty Dumpty got broken,
How did they fix him again?
With plaster and glue
(Some skill and luck too)
All the ordinary ways but what then?
All the King's horses helped heal him, they say,
And aye, also all the King's men
But were they aware
That all of their care
Couldn't put Humpty together again?
Before that day he was a wild one
Full of carefree laughter and jokes
But the best healer there
Could never repair
The shock of when his shell broke
He was never the same, after that day
That foul day when he was broke
For what man could steel
Through the sight and the feel
Of the pavement splattered with yolk?!
No, Humpty did never recover
From the scare and the shock of that day
For after the fall
From that damnable wall
He was broken in mind, too, so they say
I myself think that's just rubbish
It's not the scare that did Humpty in
He'd been scrambled before
And picked himself off the floor
He'd learnt how: with a shrug and a grin!
I know the truth of what happened
I know what reall
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Literature
I Am Reaver
There once was a boy, filled with beauty and fire
His face carved straight from man's dreams of desire
He lived and he loved, he laughed and he cried
But something about him was twisted inside
He wanted his beauty to last him forever
So he summoned the Shadows, and thought himself clever
They made him the deal, and asked of him the price
Every so often a small sacrifice
He agreed, and to give proof of the deal
They gave unto him a loathsome dark seal
The promise was made, and off the boy went
But only now did he realise just what this pact meant
For this was no miracle, sent from above,
But signalled the death of all that he loved
He fled back to his home, full of fear and despair
But too late: the Shadows had beaten him there
Never, his all the most horror-drenched dreams
Could he have imagined the blood and the screams
And thusly, in ashes, does end the tale
Of the lives of the people who lived in Oakvale
Amidst all that death, the boy also died
Bitter, guilt-ridden and broken inside
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Literature
Blood Ties, or Ode to My Grandmother
You were a stranger
Yet your death means something
Something that's hard to define
It's hard to believe
Yet believe it I must
That you were ever mine
You were always there
On the edge of perception
Because we had a tie
A tie of family
Written in blood
And in the ground you now lie
In my eyes, you were eternal
And now you're simply gone
It's hard to perceive
That this tie can be broken
Snapped in an instant
And now we are left to grieve
I wish I'd made more of an effort
I wish I had visited more
Just to talk, to chat, say hello
But now I can't
The chance is passed
And now there are stories that I'll never know
And though I'll never know your life
A fact I'll forever regret
I'll always be grateful and glad
Because you were here
You bore me my aunts
And half of my world: my dad
Part of me is of you
Passed down by my father
My cousins are also of you
So I write these words
As thanks for my family
It's the very least I can do
And though I'll never know you, stranger
I shall mourn for your p
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Mature content
The Laboratory :iconcrazylankygirl:Crazylankygirl 1 6
Literature
Ten Green Bottles
Ten green bottles, sitting on the ledge
Yes, ten green bottles, hanging near the edge
One small push will send them straight into the hedge
Yes, ten green bottles, sitting on the ledge
Ten green bottles, what a sight to see
Ten green bottles, what do you share with me?
Well you're small and you're fragile and you're frightened of the fall
Yes, ten green bottles, sitting on the wall
Ten green bottles lying broken, lying smashed
Ten green bottles, on the pavement they are dashed
They just couldn't take being stared at any more
Those ten green bottles lying broken on the floor
Ten green bottles, I know just how you feel
Frightened by the fall, but intrigued by its appeal
But now that you are broken you are of no use at all
Oh those ten green bottles should have stayed up on the wall.
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Literature
Prologue
III
She had decided to suddenly appear in the corner, just as Balremus had; despite the fact that it was a trick for amateurs, it did well to unnerve your opponents and put you in a position of power.
Unsurprisingly, Reaver had turned out to live in the largest and indeed only manor house in Bloodstone. As she appeared in the corner of the room, she noted the huge ornate fireplace and the many paintings of whom she assumed to be Reaver himself lining the plentiful wall-space. Conveniently forgetting her own wide collection of self-portraits, she rolled her eyes and muttered, "Conceited idiot."
"So I have been told." A rather plummy and arrogant voice drawled from the expensive-looking high-backed armchair that sat proudly in the centre of the room. Jester froze. Oh gods no. No, no, no, no, no. She knew that voice. Not him. She winced as the images and memories that the voice called forth flashed through her mind, faster and faster until her head whirled and it took all of her considera
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Favourites

Troublesome Trio :iconquotidia:quotidia 91 5 Don't Say No :iconcelestialess:Celestialess 390 152 Yey Reaver :iconcelestialess:Celestialess 67 8 Farts at Work :iconsabtastic:Sabtastic 205 42 Superjail :iconspaffi:Spaffi 258 85 Welcome to Superjail :iconpragmaticinsanity:pragmaticinsanity 258 21 Old and New meet :iconhumon:humon 5,653 714 The Doctors' Man Crushes :iconhumon:humon 5,485 341 Awww but Red... :iconquotidia:quotidia 271 12 Nouveau Harley Ivy :iconquotidia:quotidia 256 5 Two Detectives :iconhumon:humon 2,064 212 Sexy Scandinavian :iconhumon:humon 5,660 586 Knowledge of Chemistry --- Profound. :iconalexiel-viii:Alexiel-VIII 211 42 Fashion Runway :iconhumon:humon 4,060 217 Sherlock sketches 2 :iconhumon:humon 3,139 163 Sherlock Holmes sketches :iconhumon:humon 5,738 336

Activity


So, here I was, just finishing my uber-healthy dinner, when L from the flat downstairs walks in.

Now, L only ever comes to visit M, because they're doing the same course. I like L, (he's somewhat of a Renaissance man - imagine, a mechanics student who freely professes his love for poetry and literature!!!) so my intrigue is peaked, and M's rushing around like the most beautiful headless chicken you've ever seen, so I just kind of went "Ohi guys...whatcha doin'?"

My Phineas & Ferb-esque interrogation paid off. M (who I also really like - the day I moved in she just comes strolling on up and introduces herself, shakes my hand...I admire that) tells me that they're going to a ballroom dance class. For beginners.

Now, as you may or may not know from my previous journal, I've spent 5 HOURS AND SEVEN MINUTES locked in my room doing uni stuff today, and I was going a leetle stir crazy. So instead of my usual "PAHA no" and exit, I decided to accompany them.

It was a good choice.

I met the love of my life.
His name?

Yellow T-Shirt Guy.

Same height as me, kinda chubby, curlyish hair, stinky pits...oh man, he had it all. And when there was some partner confusion halfway through the waltz and he sprinted his wheezing way across the hall to be my partner, I just swooned and held my arms right out. And it wasn't just the BO. True story.

Yellow T-Shirt Guy was a heeeeell of a lot better than Bossy Cough Guy (who not only coughed into his hand before planting it squarely in mine, but then had the TEMERITY to tell me off when I missed ONE STEP - now, I'm not saying I hope it's TB...) or, say, Purple Shirt Guy, He of Thinning Hair and A Big-Ol' Booby Stare, and Yellow T-Shirt Guy certainly tops Uncomfortably Close Guy (who looks at me with rape eyes afterwards and says "That was loooovely").Yeuch.

Yellow T-Shirt Guy was a gentleman.

And I didn't even get his name.

So I'm writing an ode to the love of my life, who I'll never see again.

Ode to Yellow T-Shirt Guy

Yellow T-Shirt Guy, Yellow T-Shirt Guy,
There's no-one in the world except you and I
You're the same height as me, and you look me in the eye
You're so awesome, and that's no lieeeeeee

You spin me round,
Chubby cheeks aglow
There're even an exotic taint
To your rank BO
Oh boy, why'd you have to goooo?

Yellow T-Shirt Guy, Yellow T-Shirt Guy
On your footwork dude, I do rely
And it's pretty good, I can't deny
When you hold me I could flyyyyyy

You've never coughed
Right in my face
Or put your hands
In a weird place
It's a shame there is no spaaaace

Yellow T-Shirt Guy, Yellow T-Shirt Guy
Though I'll never know the reason why
We're bonded with a lasting tie
And our love...will...never...dieeeee......

*Sniff* 

He was so beautiful....

  • Listening to: The sound of my heart breaking
  • Reading: Shadow's Edge - Brent Weeks
  • Watching: Everything I'll ever love wither and die.
  • Playing: He loves me, he loves me not.
  • Eating: NOTHING, I'M MOURNING.
  • Drinking: Tea.

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Jess Dewdney
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United Kingdom
Current Residence: England
deviantWEAR sizing preference: ...10. Heh heh heh. No, seriously.
Favourite genre of music: Pop/Rock/Indie/Alternative/Humour, mostly. Some folk.
Favourite photographer: I don't really know XD
Favourite style of art: Cartoon
MP3 player of choice: Henry
Favourite cartoon character: The Warden from Superjail!
Personal Quote: 'I'm a badger. Miaow!'
Interests

Journal History

Comments


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:icontinalbion:
Tinalbion Featured By Owner Dec 14, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
:iconthxfavplz:
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:iconryokuzero91:
ryokuZero91 Featured By Owner Dec 9, 2012  Student Digital Artist
thanks for the fav :la:
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:iconcrazylankygirl:
Crazylankygirl Featured By Owner Dec 9, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Anytime X)
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:icongoodoldbaz:
GoodOldBaz Featured By Owner Nov 5, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
thanks every so much for the fav!
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:iconcrazylankygirl:
Crazylankygirl Featured By Owner Nov 5, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
You're very welcome!
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:icongoodoldbaz:
GoodOldBaz Featured By Owner Oct 30, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
thanks for the fav!
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:iconcrazylankygirl:
Crazylankygirl Featured By Owner Oct 31, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome!
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:iconcrocdiletears:
CrocdileTears Featured By Owner Sep 30, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
thankyou again this time for the fav :D
you live in the UK too?
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:iconcrazylankygirl:
Crazylankygirl Featured By Owner Sep 30, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
You're very welcome. Yes, I do! Worcestershire, to be exact X).
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:iconcrocdiletears:
CrocdileTears Featured By Owner Sep 30, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
awesome!
I'm in Oxfordshire
yay other than people on my course I have not come across another British person
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