troubleinharlem

alexandra.

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journal : goodbye, moon. by troubleinharlem, literature

Literature

journal : goodbye, moon.

I suppose we can all say "Goodbye, Moon" now that NASA's going to run into it with their 78 million dollar spacecraft. They're doing it to look for water, apparently. I know we don't have a lot of fresh water here, but we have ways of getting it without wrecking something that could help us pay back the deficit we're growing. Or, maybe we could plant gardens off the sides of highways like Ladybird Johnson did before she died. The money could go towards parks, after-school programs, food banks, the possibilities are endless. Maybe it is all in the name of science... but there's a time and

journal : biblical relations. by troubleinharlem, literature

Literature

journal : biblical relations.

No, not really, if you actually know what relations (in the biblical sense) would happen to be. I just thought it would be fitting for what I was thinking about right now... Is it wrong to turn down someone when I know that it wouldn't last? True, I don't know whether it would have worked out for the best or not, but I have a very strong feeling that it wouldn't. Why? Well, there's the fact that I'm not particularly attracted to him (not to sound shallow, but there has to be some sort of attraction). Oh, and the fact that he's an atheist. That definitely wouldn't work for me. When I think about relationships, I think about the long t

poem : an elegy. by troubleinharlem, literature

Literature

poem : an elegy.

You watch the other side of the sun, as it sets in the west Here I sit by my own, wondering where we'll be next When you're on the other side of the world, I'll have time to do naught While the night places it's cold, blue shadows I lose the freedom of thought We could do anything, we would never say no And what you confide in me, I shall confide in you A storm is coming tonight, examine and profess The son of God shall once again come down to us in distress You shall stand naked by the truth and the anguish of the world He will try your strength, and he will your morale unfurl Silent we stand in front of the reason, when summer tak

prose : starlight in vegas. by troubleinharlem, literature

Literature

prose : starlight in vegas.

I flew home from Vegas one clear winter's night, watching the stars fall beside the plane at thirty thousand feet. Was God acknowledging that he heard my thoughts? After all, no one was looking out the window but I. At one point (whilst looking into the darkness) I asked something of Him: "Are you making this just for me?" Then the streaks fell, again, as I finished the question in my mind. God tends to show things to those to search... You could search with me.

poem : fear, original. by troubleinharlem, literature

Literature

poem : fear, original.

this stretch of the sea seems adept to striking fear into our souls in the night yes, the darkest hour is just before dawn, but the waves demean their unsaid hopes words of praise, almost whispered into the sea spray, and whispers given in return in this stretch of the sea, there is no permanence for the tombstones of the ones who have died the dead outnumber the living - beginning to appear in the sea spray, while the wind howls and groans hypocrisy unleashed, men who believed in nothing, needed nothing, pray fearfully for their lives in this stretch of sea, the waves are impassive; whoever talks with the dead does not return alive no

poem : fear. by troubleinharlem, literature

Literature

poem : fear.

This stretch of sea strikes fear into our souls, Birds fly fast, cries fading by-and-by. Sullen stars no longer show their glow, Eyes glance upwards, seeing heaven hide. Darker hours, men's prayers have taken flight, Their feathered wings in ending light are gold. Show your fears, pay heed to what's to come, The wind blows through, chilling every bone. Survive this storm, survive this test of fate, Rebuke your fears, make the sea run dry. Make something of your thoughts, do not abate, Juxtapose your fears against your faith.

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cold. by troubleinharlem, literature

sea glass. by troubleinharlem, literature

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something unrelated, like cats by disappearingtricks, literature

Literature

something unrelated, like cats

even now in the midst of this self-sung apathy and dislocated poetic self-depreciation no one knows what they are looking -- wanting -- aiming for EXCEPT short words in concise patterns spaced and indented most appropriately spelled out syllables and unorthodox rhymes fluffed up like cotton (not eaten like candy) still searching for a small trace of identity after we all threw it away in pursuit of this futile dream washed up on the shores of pseudo-poetry

Deviation Spotlight

spain: almost in toledo. by troubleinharlem, visual art

spain: almost in toledo.

troubleinharlem

About troubleinharlem

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United States
Deviant for 16 years
She / Her

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My Bio

Current Residence: virginia.
Favourite genre of music: alternative, indie, and classic rock.
MP3 player of choice: iPod.
Favourite cartoon character: barnacle boy. mermaid man.
Personal Quote: why do hearts need stars? stars fall for wishes - Hearts fall in love; every heart's wish.

Favourite Visual Artist

changes frequently.

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

changes frequently.

Favourite Writers

changes frequently.

Favourite Games

sims2.

Favourite Gaming Platform

wii. laptop. xbox

Tools of the Trade

imagination.

Other Interests

music. psychology. cello. cinematography.

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troubleinharlem

Feb 16, 2010

shutting down.

0 min read

Okay, I'm shutting down most of the stuff on this account, and I'm mainly going to use it for storing purposes and things like that. If you want to reach me, do so at troubleinharlem@gmail.com - I'll reply there. I'll miss you guys. =/

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troubleinharlem

Dec 26, 2009

christmas.

0 min read

well... i didn't get what i wanted for christmas. in fact, christmas was like any other day of the week, if not worse because we were cleaning the house so that when (whenever he decides to) my dad comes home, he won't complain about the house. i really don't care what he thinks, seeing as though he's only here for a day and a half out of the week anyway. all i wanted for christmas was that feeling that i used to get when i was five. you know, the whole waking up early, presents (not even that, i don't care about the whole not having presents today factor), family dinner, seeing extended family... oh, and for my life to be normal again. i w

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troubleinharlem

Dec 23, 2009

TUMBLR.

0 min read

Tumblr is my new best friend. It's a blogging site, but not really because you can just put random things that you like. So, if you see a picture that you like, you can upload it and people can favorite it or reblog it, which gets you more tumblarity. Check out mine, and get one! It's fun. (: (trobleinharlem.tumblr.com) THAT MEANS YOU, NICK.