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:iconkazaksan:

~Kazaksan

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About Me Member General Poet KazaksanMale/Norway Recent Activity Deviant for 3 Years
Needs Premium Membership Statistics 78 Deviations
174 Comments
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Fear and FaithThe main things. Of what dominates in human relations is the notions of fear and faith. These notions have their ways of tormenting us, yet their also act as beholders to use: keeping us awake and on guard.   
On guard. Fear is that which usually keep the commoner on guard, and faith eject wondrous rain allowing frantic emotions blossom - often lulling us into sleep and blindness for attacks. However, the one trained against such spells will question fear and treat over faith carefully, as if one is to cross a valley of sleeping medusas.   
Mixture of poisons. If one is be clever in manipulating an individual or a mass, on Fear and Faith
by ~Kazaksan
Undetected StormClouds sway their forms,  changing pictures of the sky,  one seem to forget ones place when watching above,  just as the ones above know the place of the ones below...   
From the outer reaches of my sight,  a storm slowly begins to belch its fury,  as I scout for my heart's desire,  a cold chill entangles my feet,  ... a soon to be freezing carpet on my very skin,   
Closer and closer, those dark clouds move,  flesh begins to hack, yet I must linger,  for how long? for what reason? and for who?  I must linger, hope demands it!   
Pillars of lighting break out, &n Undetected Storm
by ~Kazaksan
Rough SkinPrologue:   
A sweaty day of work,  full of young hope, ... of hunger!  chasing that turtle of time,  run you slowpoke! get going! I suffer while at linger here.   
Finally the hour was ripe to breach,  too much of my lifeblood this place leech,  of passion in life I long for to reach,   
so much longing, one does wonder, is that of life a mere preperation?   
---   
At the arrival of the destined place,  I could not find her face,  it felt as I were broken by a mace,  yet, my mind would not let it crack...   
My being has percieved such before Rough Skin
by ~Kazaksan
The Wounded KingAcross the steppes of stone,  I carry my flesh and bone,  bearing this mantle over me,  this coat of color no eyes can see.   
The journey harsh,  
this is no soft marsh!  The people made it hard,  not unlike their hearts.   
Yet I must march on...  marching on.   
My plight is to obey,  for I have been instructed so,  I do not remember much,  istoria is not my companion   
Fragile and dumb as I may seem,  little do really seperate us,  apart from flesh and bone,  we're all of the same stone. The Wounded King
by ~Kazaksan
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Spring Arrival / Withdrawal

Mon Mar 16, 2009, 12:54 PM
The brighter days sure do their part in assembling my mood to a more functional state.

Much is well, yet there are so many loose threads, oh yes, so many loose... I have, but the courage to deal with these last rats. Does anyone know a tactic or does it come down to sheer willpower?

The slow death of winter is coming to an end, with all its twinkling dreams, and the rebirth of spring is near, through fire one must march!

Let thy reasons not blind thee and be watchful of the tricks that sicks thee, that come from your heart.

What a day, this moon's day, I merely tried to be myself, yet I regret now in doing so. Is it so painful to unwear a mask? Is the fresh air truly so poised? There's an error somewhere.

A new process will begin here soon; namely withdrawal.

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Devious Info

  • Current Residence: Fish and oil, guess where!
  • Interests: Music, philosohpy, languages, litterature, history, games, movies/series...
  • Favourite movie: The Assassination of Jesse James By The Coward Robert Ford, When Nietzche Wept, Lost Highway, +++
  • Favourite band or musician: Death/Control Denied, Judas Priest, Slayer, Shostakovich, Mahler, Tchaikovsky...
  • Favourite genre of music: Late romanticism/early 20th Century classical, 80s rock & metal
  • Favourite artist: None really...
  • Favourite poet or writer: Nietzsche, Dostojevski, Camus, Wittgenstein, Schopenhauer, Voltaire, Williams.
  • Favourite style of art: Traditional, Litterature
  • Personal Quote: Smiling for nought is the madman's privilege, otherwise there is a motive sheathed: alike love.

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:iconslawa:
*Slawa Jun 22, 2009, 2:40:12 AM
I don't understand your question,sorry.
:iconkazaksan:
~Kazaksan Jun 22, 2009, 5:51:05 AM
It was a compliment on your fine art. Forgive my poor language. Poets have a way of making themselves misunderstood.

--
The skies are magnificent, have there ever been a people magnificent as such?
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