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About Deviant squibblyquillOther/United States Recent Activity
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My caress of evening,
My breath of morning,

Take the blessing laying
Lightly on my sleepy lids,

The light of whose orbs
Wakes to your traces in the sun.

My little ghost,
While we are far,
The sky melts the wonder of souls in its pot;
Perhaps our wonders mingle there.
Orbs of Wonder
I think the images I was trying to capture are not fully clear in my language, but oh well.
Some joys are held in the hand
Or grappled with the eyes...

But tonight your blessing lies
In the distant,
Dimming horizon.

Love in this form
Is scent,
Like the jasmine
Wafting down the wall
As I pass with a passing smile.

A warm heart, though far,
Perfumes life
With precious, mundane affections.
Odor of Affection
Good hearts are like sweet smelling flowers. Even if you are not near them, they seem to spread a subtle perfume over the ins and outs of days.
I would tell you that your arms are home,
But they may not hold me.

I would praise the feel of your lips on mine,
But I've never seen them move.

I might relent and say I craved your touch,
Yet what if it's dull or burns?

How many times do we have to learn
That we have so much to learn about one another?

And who can call it desire where its end
And object remain obscured, in distance mired?

I'd like to tell you about the light in your eyes,
But who am I that does not know their color?

I'd like to praise the humor in your voice,
But its tones have never reached my ears.

I might admit I dream up with flesh landscapes
The latent mandates of emotion wafting unspoken;

Yet what joy could it bring that was not suspect?

You are to me a blank slate, a clear encryption,
Interface as innocent as you are devoid
Of all those little indications
Which prove so crucial, so revelatory
To a heart unsheathed.

Yes, you are a blank slate
That I have already colored in my mind.
Suspected Emotion
A little verse for an age of digital intimacy.
Your kisses are ghosts,
But I love them anyway,
Even if they haunt me
With their absence.

For here in my hermitage,
Heart may clothe the absent
In what might otherwise
Be hidden by presence.

Verily there are some delights
Only the heart's eye may taste.
Nothing new to say to me,
Nothing to say at all;
For of all the rise and falls
Our fast affection lived,
Nothing changes this:

You won't be there
When the sunset calls.

So each away to their own night,
Their own heaven, hell
And glowing stars...
That each heart alight
On its own blight,
And each soul drink
From its own well
Of joy and tears.
Here's an interesting video. While I tend to think of Ayn Rand as a virtuous sociopath (if such can exist) and have some serious qualms about her ideas, I found this dialogue very thought provoking:


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Khalizya Featured By Owner Jun 15, 2015
Thank you very much for the watch ;)
squibblyquill Featured By Owner Jun 23, 2015
Most welcome : )
DraganTheMighty Featured By Owner Jun 9, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Themoonofmyheart Featured By Owner May 1, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for commenting on my poems....I havent been much on DA have you been? :)
squibblyquill Featured By Owner May 1, 2015
Most welcome. I enjoy reading. I've been okay. Busy, but DA makes for a nice quick break. I hope you've been doing all right.
Themoonofmyheart Featured By Owner May 1, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
yeah I am catching up again....just have been quite bored lately! :| I agree with you that DA can be a good break
Livelovemaria Featured By Owner Apr 24, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thank you for favoriting my painting
squibblyquill Featured By Owner Apr 24, 2015
My pleasure! : )
Merles Featured By Owner Mar 31, 2015
Thank you for the fav :) !
squibblyquill Featured By Owner Apr 3, 2015
YW : )
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