Articles written by Deiondre Alexander

How To Guides |
Community

About me - Deiondre Alexander

What goes without saying: I love to write. The written word is my voice. I am hopeless at communicating if speech is required.
WHAT I write: most everything. My specialty is fantasy (you can check out my first, recently released title here: http://stores.lulu.com/bladewings.

+ more bio information

RSS Feed

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Silence: 6 of 181

"Listen to the Silence" Lay beneath the snow, an eternity of white Find a place between twilight and the night Cast away the voices, the echoes and the rest Listen to the silence, and tell me what it says Sink beneath the surface of water calm and still Let the depth become you, let breathing cease at will Wait until the sur...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Forget me not: 1 of 28

And slowly, so slowly, I fade. Until like a wisp of barely lingering fog I drift. Then as a whispering wind smears my vague image I am spread thin, like a ghost dying, And I disappear completely But only things that are forgotten are gone forever, And I dwell still in your memory. You wonder, chasing after me in your dreams,...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Twilight: 3 of 35

And the spectrum, suddenly, a paradox As the light fades and the darkness is held at bay A suspension in time, where reality flickers Yet nothing flickers, the world is still The seconds stretch longer to draw out the moment Black and white colors fade into the gray A plane of mist and shadow and silence A subtle phenomenon,...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Love: 87 of 718

I rested in your arms, and saw the sun as it truly rises At the peak of these hills we've climbed, with the world flung out around us We flew like eagles into the sun Love was blind, so we opened our eyes To the gardens we've grown and the forests we've cut down To the evergreen roses of love, and re-blooming petals of trust...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Paradise: 7 of 43

It's no great secret, my paradise Just lost in some forsaken corner The Garden of Eden withers The Seven Wonders are hardly adorned We look in all the wrong places What is pleasure? It is not joy Where do petals never fall and gardens never spoil? The winds clear corruption from the sky The water shows the reflection of a tr...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: A caged bird: 6 of 28

Crippled wings are heavy, folded like wilted flowers on my back, and the calls, they echo, against the empty freedom without Denied the sky and since rendered a symbol of beautiful decay I lie in this cage now, depleted, and do not make a weary sound No song, nor cry, escapes onto the flying of the wind My voice could fly, s...
Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Words: 62 of 236

The ink reads flat - but look closely, can you see its shadow? When you ruffle through the pages, can you hear the whispers speaking? Are you caught by the spell unspoken, the silent web, the stealthy lasso? When you open up a well-told book, can you hear the pages breathing? Words extend beyond a page, deeper than transpare...
Creative Writing > Songs Songs: Rebirth: 2 of 7

It's been heavy But by way of the ever-sinking, ever-descending pain I've found the true depth of my soul It's been hell, So wrenching that I've been turned inside out And through the fire I've grown cold But in the light of his new eyes, The shadows that haunt me fade completely I'll speak my pain then turn to leave, Spread...
Creative Writing > Reflections Reflections: Secret love: 6 of 18

It is the curse that sneaks up from the budding recesses of our foolish, youthful hearts, that unbidden feeling that we expect to fade with the changing of the seasons. All feelings change with the seasons. Sparks from the past are tattooed into the angles of the sun, some memories cold like winter and others vibrant like sp...
Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: Unusual encounters: 86 of 207

The heat of the moment was cold. There was an immediate gripping sense of dread, something akin to alarm, as one small act of fatal clumsiness lost possession of the antique statuette. There was no question as to the uncanny nature that wielded that suspenseful moment, that suspended stretch of awareness outside of time. It ...