:bigthumb391622925:The ComeTogetherProject is all about encouraging community.
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Our goal is to bring the community directly to the members, in an attempt to inspire members to be a more active part of the community. With our focus on the "spread the love" concept, we encourage promotion, features, compliments, constructive feedback, random acts of kindness, reviews, support, and above all a strong sense of community.
We promote and feature community projects and events, bring deviants and groups with a focus on community to the forefront, post articles that educate members on how to get involved, and encourage collaboration of all kinds of art.
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5. 1 submission per article/journal folder, per week.
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If you do not follow the rules, your deviations may be denied or removed from the group, you may be removed or blocked from the group, and worst case, you may be reported.
My Midnight Lover.I spend the darkness<da:thumb id="410243846"/> <da:thumb id="410123241"/>
Waiting for you and your gracious splendor
In the midnight shroud
Your touch to graze upon my skin
Your lips like sweet roses
I have tasted none other...
Your scent has captured me into a game
A life intertwined within my veins
My heart now, full of burning desire
I crave you more than ever before
Your love and lust are all I ever need
To declare to the world that we are twisted
Now let us make the solemn night
An anthem for the lonely hearts
With you and me touch by touch
For your teeth graze upon my whim
As I wait patiently for the crimson dawn
To never come again...
To never come again.
I Like The NightsI like the Nights. What about you? It gives me time to think; to get away, to focus. I can rest my mind and spirit, as well as see what to do. The Nights always will be there, with time to think and time to breath. The Nights relieve your stress, as well as keep you calm and sane. With them, my spirit will never wane. I see the truth with Night. I feel safe with Night. No matter what, I feel no fright. I need no other light.
When I speak to the Night, I ask myself, 'What do others think? Why am I so different? How is it one can be so wrong yet so normal?' Things are different with the Night; I can speak freely and no one will care, I can see without being seen. I can think upon the hate and see it right. I can change my opinion in one moment for the better. I have a friend, the Night, she stays with me and leaves only for a short time; I need no other. I have my friends, but none of them can see me the way they should. With Her, I stay sane. People come and go, but Night, my love, will
ClairvoyantMy eyes are always open. From the rise of dawn to the moon's reign in the night and even in my dreams, I see.
My sight shifts, swirls of clarity come and go. Sometimes it's all tinged blue around the edges like I'm underwater and I can stay down for hours without having to breathe. It can be surreal, seeing that way. A waking dream that captures my vision, so entrancing I can't look away.
Sometimes it flashes; a glint of a knife, a smile, a scream. Bits and shards of pictures- puzzle pieces giving them selves to me but some mysteries are better left unsolved.
It's a burden and a safe guard with an ocean-tide mood ruled by something not at all in my control.
I think that's what freaks me out the most. The randomness of it all, the tiny things I choose to ignore that could be important.
But I can't chase every one of them, can I?
This morning in the shower it was a storm, dark with raging winds. A broken window and wet shards of glass at my feet
UnderstandIn my dreams
To all the hurtful lies
While I dream
demons come for me
take my soul
let me go
death is calling
take me home
my agony wails
despairing of a hell
mellow of danger
call me forth
through all my anger
a little stranger
sun setting on the endangered
What It Means To Disappeari have been practicing becoming invisible
i wait in pregnant silences
until my breath freezes over
i have been practicing becoming unreal
so when i tell you 'i am fiction'
i need you
to believe me
I'm no supermanA young man walked down the street, staring at the sidewalk and tucking his hands into his jean pockets as he tried to keep himself from making eye contact with anyone he passed by. He needed to be invisible for as long as he could and, due to a very terrible mistake, he was having to quit a lot of things he used to do and go under the radar. Nick was the superhero of this city, and his identity had been leaked.
Everyone knew now that the completely average Nickolas Fletcher-Hodgkiss was the incredible hero, mainly known as Wonder Boy. Nick could never come up with a proper alias for himself, so he just stuck to the name given in the paper headlines, and he felt it suited him well enough. He was able to protect the city at night, and go to school and play his music at local bars during the days and some evenings. He was a badass, and yet still could maintain his normal personality, but now...now that had all suddenly been ripped away from him.
He couldn’t be the same average joe
girl, unknownShe believes in ghosts, draws flowers in the palm of her hand, little graveyards to all those skeletons laid to rest in her mind closet. She believes in another life after death because there's got to be more to it than this, she knows she must be missing out. She doesn't have a God but she believes in faith, everyone needs to rely on something, no matter how intangible the proof. She believes in love when he falls asleep next to her and the silence isn't too much. When she doesn't have to count her heartbeats before she falls asleep. She believes, she believes in everything and in everyone without restraint. She doesn't know otherwise.
(maybe she stopped believing in fairytales after the girl, but we'll never know)
Faye's resolutionFaye didn’t like the plan much, but it was a good general idea, what she detested was the fact that will have to go underground; originally she didn’t mean to follow Laetitia but knowing her it was better to do so, she could be too passionate sometimes and lose control once she already had it. Her contribution mainly was to get them a place that was safe enough to not attack attention and selecting the group that will accompany them.
She had been there before and the Master showed her the ways to hide in those tunnels. The Claudia Aqueduct was a large set of waterways and sewers and even if not the best smelling place in Rome it wasn’t so horrible. When they came back with a hostage she pitied the older woman, got her to her undergarments and instructed for her to be kept safe and alone, she might serve another purpose later on.
The sound of explosion resonated through the walls and long corridors, she made sure the improvised cell was properly locked and went to the
LuminousWe lie together in the dark
the pale shape of you sleeping
rising and falling in the heat
I run my hands over the curves of your form and the walls
the curling corners of posters and
the four poster bed.
naked except for your shirt
the sound of the floorboards creak
in the hush under the soles
of my feet.
stopping to smile
at the faded play on words I can make out in the dark
outside the window
(and in my mind)
|More Journal Entries|
Meet The Team
RiseandBe, Mo - Here to answer all of your questions, post features and articles, and generally maintain the group and motivate the staff.
Answer questions, moderate gallery, write blogs, contribute work to general folders, featured and favorites, and does various other jobs within the group.
lion-essrampant, Caitlan - Writes 'Inspiration Blog.'
betwixtthepages, Elizabeth - Conducts 'Affiliate Interviews,' manages DDs and DLDs folder, and suggestions.
disrhythmic, Dizzy - Writes 'Get Featured Here.'
madameshadowenn, Jasmine - Writes 'This Week On deviantART.'
WintersRead, Noah - Writes 'Get Featured Here.'
BatFluf, Alex - Conducts 'Affiliate Interviews.'
Contributes work to features and favorites, as well as main gallery, helps with various jobs within group.
TheComeTogether-Bank - Donate to us here!
Would you like to be on the team?
Send a note to The ComeTogetherProject or RiseandBe with what job you're interested in and why you want to be an integral part of the project!
Day Twenty SixMayflies only live forDay Twenty Six by xthe-eleanorx
twenty-four hours and
at the end of each day,
I ask myself if I would be
satisfied with my life
if I were a mayfly.
And most days,
the mayfly dies
grumpy and tired.
On The Threshold of CreationDaughter of Hecate,On The Threshold of Creation by LadyofGaerdon
I was born upon the threshold
of one year and the next:
a tiny earthen creature,
awash in a sea of stars.
Too late did I remember
Capricorn is the goat with
the tail of a fish,
and perhaps my legs were never meant
to tread upon the earth.
I've heard tell
that Saturn is the harshest master,
and will never be satisfied
by words alone.
In the beginning I was sure-footed
as the goat who glitters in stars above me,
ideas sprung full-grown from my head,
as Athena born from Zeus
Too late do I recall
that prophecy foretold,
Zeus' own creation
would surpass even him.
I'm still trying to puzzle out
whether my own creation
will surpass me, and live on,
or destroy me altogether.
Yet still I weave my words,
and endeavor to make Athena proud.
She beckons me home,
tall and stern from woven banner:
tempts me with promises of "Eureka",
and still I pray, to any who would hear me
that my living words will whisper
"non omnis moriar."
AiyanaDesert butterflies threadAiyana by autumn-spirit
their yellow in your hair
and play tick-tack-toe
with the rainbow belt
you've tied around your middle
as you sit on the hood
of my station wagon and
talk about the seductive
lights of faraway towns.
I love imagining the star-fall
under those skies and
the taste that lingers when
we kiss at midday with
the heat and apple gloss
sticking to our tragic mouths.
Aiyana, you are a tease
sometimes, then not;
agreeing to run away
then making excuses
to stay here and strum
on age-old guitar strings
and spin plastic dreams
from your grandmother's loom,
selling mismatched threads
to naive tourists all over
the penny-tinted Southwest coast.
Tell me what I'm missing
by not being with you, girl.
Sometimes I can't imagine
ever waking up without
the chime of your spider web
dream-catcher above my head
and the silky feel of
your Navajo black hair
and sunset-smudged skin
lying beside me.
But for some reason,
I think that you're
not as embedded
in my night as
I am in yours
citronellamy citronella soulcitronella by hipsterfaust
corroded and eroded,
cracked and bent.
you've seen my soul
dripped in the grass
to speak so low.
it leaks and slithers
do not pass go
(i told you so.
i told you so.)
don't pick the locks,
my dear, just know---
ripped up with glass
a sick so high.
(you saw my soul
wickering, shy: )
do not pass by,
do not pass go
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