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About Deviant Tobias HodgesMale/United Kingdom Recent Activity
Deviant for 7 Years
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Literature
Two peas in a split pod
Do you see these shackles upon my wrists?
They are real and not a sudden twist,
Of fate or of hate,
There will be no final bliss.
Papa pea and junior pea,
That's what we are -
Two peas in a pod -
The same bits to the engine of a car?
Have you made me this way,
Is your silence the same as mine?
Diplomatic, yet underlyingly sympathetic,
never over the fine line.
If indeed I am a pea,
Then I'll replant myself.
Fresh soil, a bit of toil,
I will not be put onto a shelf.
I love you dad,
And I will remain your son.
But it is not my everlasting wish,
To repeat what you have already done.
:icongingertrouble:gingertrouble
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Literature
The good angel
Size eight, a meter fifty five,
Endlessly sunny days.
Sumptuous dates on a ramadan evening.
The guards swaying to an arabian jive.
Size ten, one meter eighty-eight,
Alternating suns and rains.
Another foreign world,
With stories yet untold.
A red crossed boy, calling me mate.
A grain of sand to a great boulder,
A sapling to the greater redwood,
Both dependable, both matured.
Yet one has to become...
More able,
Maybe more stable,
Than the other one.
Come along, the good angel said.
Let aside those dates qualms.
Dance along, the good angel said.
Take on a new adventure -
A fresh start, conquer another heart,
Leave no word unsaid.
And the grain that become boulder,
And the sapling that is redwood,
And the boy that is man,
Looked through a clear window,
Eyeing the faint and good angel,
The good angel
Grinning with the same eye and the same teeth.
Come along, the good angel said,
There's a world out there,
It's not time to go to bed.
:icongingertrouble:gingertrouble
:icongingertrouble:gingertrouble 3 5
Literature
A quiet friend
Even the company of a mouse
Would do, on this lonely wall.
A mouse, inside my house...
No more than three inches tall.
Even the company of a mouse
Would do, sitting in this lonely world.
A mouse, upon my lap,
One which is both calm and bold.
Even the company of a mouse
Would do, pondering on a timeless life.
A mouse, no question of a trap,
A silent friend to balance out the strife.
Yes,
Even the company of a mouse would do.
:icongingertrouble:gingertrouble
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Literature
Horizon to horizon
They chopped that tree down today.
The one overshadowing the mess off to the west?
Bit by bit it fell apart.
Branch by branch I stored it away,
Its memories, my memories.
My regrets, yet my hopes,
My fear, yet my dreams.
From it bark I carved out a ship,
Strong and stealthy.
From its leaves I sowed a multi-greened sail to
Catch the wind, on the trail,
Of a beagled naturist.
Pervading, the scent of a well learnt and travelled orchid,
Travels along in the barks musky insides. A lotus,
Engraved in the wood's corsaired bark travels alongside
The newly adorned sails. Colours –
Reds, greens, blues, paint my sails a new world, a new road.
Alongside them the lotuses and orchids remain a faint image
Of a past regretted but
Of a past taken along by the helm.
Day by day,
And month by month this boat grows and brightens.
The lotuses are surrounded by a world of images, dreams, hopes
and enlightened philosophy.  
Regret flails. Gratitude for the exoticism and the
Optimism remains -
W
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The Oslo Accords today by gingertrouble The Oslo Accords today :icongingertrouble:gingertrouble 1 1
Literature
One side on an overturned leaf
Death,
Could do,
No worse.
This trauma,
This pain of a few thousand
Well sharpened,
Well aimed,
Endless,
Retches.
Painful gags in the shadows
Of her majesty of the night's silvery glares.
There is no death,
No anger,
No fight for peace,
No desire for love.
Maybe your own desire to be loved.
For, in that moment where a caring,
Loving hand,
A warmer touch,
Brings a bit of hope,
There is no pain in the world,
But Your own.
:icongingertrouble:gingertrouble
:icongingertrouble:gingertrouble 1 3
Literature
Our dance
I
We danced,
Waltzed, to the rhythmic
Command of past leathered highlanders
Issued from green, gold, blue-eyed lands
Of turbulent histories past,
Now reconciled to our present of peaceful ideals.
One, two three,
One two three,
Right, left right,
Right left, right.
A smooth movement
Accompanied to the sound of simple reds commanding
The occasional stuttering footstep.
II
We once shared trice four old childish
Laughs and wishful motions of our intertwined palms.
Young saplings
Watered but not yet exposed.
Small seedlings,
Non-woody and unflowered we grew
To become the redwoods that we are now,
Giants in a world of giants.
Amid the chaos, the blur, the
Intoxication we elevated our motions to a
One, two, one, two,
Tying a tied knot ever tighter.
III
You and I,
A slow waltz.
You and I,
A movemented jive.
Vous and I,
Two dances in a complicated Ceilidh,
Where two can become three and two again,
Ever moving, loving, sharing, but never
Together,
In a Gaelic dance.
Its drumming,
Always in twos,
:icongingertrouble:gingertrouble
:icongingertrouble:gingertrouble 1 3
Literature
Scattered thoughts
I love you
I hate you
I fear you,
What you were,
What you are,
What you could become.
I see only you, and
How you've loved,
How you love,
How you could love,
Again and again.
What is it about you?
Which makes everything I love turn into hate
And everything I so hate become what I most want.
Which makes you heads and me tails,
And makes you bleed and me heal.
And makes me sink and you float.
Sink.
A pirates love, iridescent within its
Deep
Blue canvas.
What? The Pirate?
You, always.
You come back,
Again and again and again and
Seek more, desire more.
As do I,
To be touched and held and whispered sweet songs
Of black tragedies and greedy ancients.
Of star fated lovers,
impeded by the bloodied daggers of fallen brothers and cousins.
The thoughts may black on white,
But our bonds share no such distinctive opposites.
For there is no love without hate,
As there is no hate without passion,
And there is no knowing why we are what we are,
Why we think and feel,
What we think and feel.
We are hu
:icongingertrouble:gingertrouble
:icongingertrouble:gingertrouble 3 5
Literature
Mon poeme
Plume en main, de l’encre à son coté
Il écrit, récrit,
Et écrit encore.
Jusqu’ici, ses mots ne furent que des traces noires
Sur du papier blanc,
Crispé.
Un a un ils sortaient. Chacun détaché de son prochain.
Son coté épistolaire a mis dix-sept ans à m’écrire
Une compilation
De ses écritures désordonnées,
Ses pensées mal placé.
Aujourd’hui l’étincelle qu’il fut
Est devenue la flamme des confins de ma vaste
Bibliothèque.
Une lettre, un poème,
Le sceau non-existant.
Des écritures confuses,
M’ont aujourd’hui attentent.
Avec son aide je tente de comprendre, apprendre
Les raisons pour mes vicissitudes quotidiennes,
Ma confusion perpétuelle.
Car je ne suis pas un homme de poésie,
Mais l’émotion en moi écrit ses propres vers.
:icongingertrouble:gingertrouble
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Favourites

Literature
Luna
        Luna, daughter of the invincible;
                Do you see the world as we?
        Up there, cradled in the silken night sky,
Among twinkling hunters and queens, what do you see?
                Luna, lover of the immortal;
You kiss him goodnight, once more.
        But in his eternal slumber he stirs not:
                You're swirling in his visions, lost in his infinite sleep.
        Luna, silver sister of the sun:
                Will you break the promise of a new dawn?
As you sank into the sea, s
:iconsunhoney:sunhoney
:iconsunhoney:sunhoney 2 4
Literature
Ghosts
Shadows lurk in the corners of my sleep;
They emerge from dusky worlds and sweep
Like phantoms; they whisper and whirl
As secret images of past begin to unfurl.
Old, wispy souvenirs of moments discarded –
I forgot them, forgot to keep them guarded –
They appear, tender remainders of a late flame;
An unfinished story told; a road without a name.
A light brush of ethereal smoke against my skin
Awakens the memories sleeping deep within.
Are you the ghosts of instants deceased?
Familiar sounds and odours have been released,
And I grasp at the wisps of unearthed dreams.
A reflection in a mirror glimmers and gleams,
Taunting me, teasing me, willing me closer in –
A passage to worlds undefined, beyond my skin.
Clear of these waters, mysterious grounds exist:
I hesitate; touch the cold glass; I'm encircled by mist.
As I am enveloped into the deep cocoon of silken nights,
A thickening fog, holding me close, eclipses all lights.
A gliding vessel carries me smoothly across waters o
:iconsunhoney:sunhoney
:iconsunhoney:sunhoney 5 7
How can I love you more? by squiggly-weeble How can I love you more? :iconsquiggly-weeble:squiggly-weeble 2 5
Literature
Missing.
You're down the road, or across town;
You're on a continent drifted long ago,
Four hundred days more, two-fifty down;
You're too far from me to feel the same breeze blow.
You're in a distant buzzing city, lights dancing;
You're on a smaller, warmer, greener isle,
Under cloudless skies and stars entrancing;
You're too distant from me to share your smile.
Summits and valleys, rivers and seas,
Roads and lakes, skyscrapers and trees,
Too many walls for me to count –
Days and months, hours and years,
Worries and joy, laughter and fears,
Strangers of time in such great amount –
I miss you: down the road, or on your isle,
It's been a long day, six months, or a year –
And for me, it's been all too long a while
Since I watched  your faces disappear.
:iconsunhoney:sunhoney
:iconsunhoney:sunhoney 1 5
Literature
Pain 01-07-2010
Pain has no limits,
it has no boundaries.
Pain comes and goes,
it has a mind of its own.
Pain affects everybody differently,
it asks no questions.
It knows no skin color,
it knows no age, nor gender.
Pain can kill,
but it can also save a life.
Pain can come in many different forms,
it can come at any time.
It holds to no requests,
it makes no promises.
Pain can be beautiful,
or it can be hideous.
Pain can change lives,
it also changes nations.
It can used to terrorize,
it can be used to warn.
Pain has no limits,
it has no boundaries.
Pain comes and goes,
it has a mind of its own.
:iconpoeticrhythms:poeticrhythms
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Literature
La Terre Me Consomme
La terre m'embellit, mais elle me consomme –
Me balance entre inspirations et rêveries.
Je trouve mon esprit à l'air, au vent, ouvert
Aux muguets qui me poussent des rêves d'éveille ;
Et mes pieds dansent entre primevères
Avant que la camomille me berce au sommeil.
Je suis épanouie par la déraison, comme
Les verdures prennent place dans mon esprit.
:iconsunhoney:sunhoney
:iconsunhoney:sunhoney 1 0

Groups

Activity


deviantID

gingertrouble
Tobias Hodges
United Kingdom
Current Residence: Bishop's Stortford, UK
Favourite genre of music: Acoustic
Favourite style of art: Written
MP3 player of choice: ipod
Interests
Having just received a little collection of poems as a gift I'm now dabbling into a few more ways of writing poetry. Mastering a particular form requires time - something that I wish had I more of - but there's no harm in trying it out. The last three poems were whipped out in a moment of boredom whilst lifeguarding. It's safe to say that they are not exactly good representations of what was running through my head, and a greater grasp of language would be much appreciated... In any case I'm finding myself wanting to write more and more: no matter how accurate or beautifully worded such pieces may turn out to be. After all, practice makes perfect; so practice, practice, practice!!
  • Listening to: Scouting for girls
  • Reading: The Ghost Train - Michael Joseph
  • Playing: The guitar
  • Eating: Homemade pizza!!
  • Drinking: H20

Friends

:iconwoody92: :iconsir-gecko: :iconsquiggly-weeble: :iconsunhoney:

Comments


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:iconsunhoney:
sunhoney Featured By Owner Jun 11, 2010
thankies for the +fav =)
x
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:iconjonathoncomfortreed:
jonathoncomfortreed Featured By Owner May 23, 2010  Student Photographer
Thank you for your interest in :iconthewrittenrevolution:, we're delighted to have you!
Welcome to the revolution. :salute:

Please take a look at our contest, we'd love to have you participate. :tighthug:
Reply
:iconsunhoney:
sunhoney Featured By Owner May 10, 2010
merci pour the fave ^.^
x
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:icongingertrouble:
gingertrouble Featured By Owner May 10, 2010
de rien :),
I received a lama badge... anything to me happy about? :P
Reply
:iconsunhoney:
sunhoney Featured By Owner May 10, 2010
i have no clue, i have 5 but they don't mean anything :S
apparently there's a 'reason to be on dA' that is 'herding llamas'.
LLAMAS.
x
Reply
:icongingertrouble:
gingertrouble Featured By Owner May 10, 2010
oops I should know... I do spanish... LLAMAS :P
xxx
Reply
:iconsquiggly-weeble:
squiggly-weeble Featured By Owner May 10, 2010  Student Traditional Artist
Eurgh its you :P welcome to DA...sort of xx
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:icongingertrouble:
gingertrouble Featured By Owner May 10, 2010
I'll report you as spam... but since you like my SECOND poem (what a big inventory I have) then you're forgiven.
xx
Reply
:iconsunhoney:
sunhoney Featured By Owner May 9, 2010
p.s. [link] = bryony
[link] = justin
proper welcome to dA!
x
Reply
:icongingertrouble:
gingertrouble Featured By Owner May 10, 2010
Thank you!! I've added them :D
x
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