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About Literature / Hobbyist cristinewakesuphappyFemale/Unknown Recent Activity
Deviant for 4 Years
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my favourite movie quote
"The old dreams were good dreams; they didn't work out but I'm glad I had them."
- Robert James Waller, The Bridges of Madison County


thank you
for sending this to me. it's pretty and i will frame it.
i don't know how else to express my gratitude.
just grateful for the thoughtfulness and generosity.

:bulletblue:for anyone who reads my work, hits the :+fav: button or leaves a thoughtful comment:

thank you for keeping me company.
much like the real world,
DeviantArt can be a lonely wintry place.




cristinewakesuphappy's Profile Picture

Artist | Hobbyist | Literature

keepsakes i cherish:

:bulletpink: the old dreams, 1992-2010, poems and short stories
:bulletpink: # babystars, 2011-2015, poems

DDs Stamp by tRiBaLmArKiNgS

:bulletblue: 08.29.13: gyrate for them, greta
:bulletblue: 04.27.14: handmade love
:bulletblue: 06.15.15: grandmother

Featured by DLD by HugQueen

:bulletblue: 11.17.13: canapés (link)
:bulletblue: 02.10.14: i missed the train. (link)


:bulletblue: 05.11.15: are you prayerful? (link)

i do allow myself
the luxury of dreaming

one day,
life will be more than just getting by;
my art could take me somewhere nice;
i'll tend my own garden or farm
and live in my own house baking and decorating
and enjoying the quiet.
and i will wake up happy (with you).

God bless us all always,
cristinewakesuphappy :house:
have you been tagged for daily deviation highlights?


:bulletblue: here is a journal page for pieces of art that might inspire you the way they inspire me. 
thank you for taking the time to bask in their beauty.

handpicked updated version by cristinewakesuphappy

poems inspiring me to write my own

breaking habit broke us.i can't help but continue to give a damn -
by now it's just habit.
i wonder what (or who) you're turning to for help
                                                  into as a result of your confinement and fear.
i know you're scare
An old kind of loveOne hundred years from now
The paint we picked out
Will be seven shades different,
Or old bricks made wise
By some graffiti prophet.
The note you hid in my mittens
– All I dream about anymore
Is the ocean
And you
(But mostly just you) –
Will be drifting through dream-catchers and
Those sapling hopes with
Roots tangled like our fingers and
Branches trembling with the vastness of our memories
Will be driftwood adventures
Nodding off with the tides
But I know in this heart of mine
That the smooth-bark-rain-soaked Beech Tree
You planted for me (there's a swing on it now)
Will still be there
And it will remember what color that
Old paint we picked out
Used to be
TransplantingI belong
to the red earth now
and not the green.
It has stained my fish-scale skin
to beaten bronze
and stripped my autumn hair
to ashen gold.
All that remains
is the blue of my eyes--
not azure
not cerulean
but blue-blue;
the color of a perfect sky
no matter where it's seen.
glass bones
i am encompassed
in frost,
riddled with kisses of winter
where hands are
tinged purple and numbness
slows the nerves
from feeling
the heart
i am unbroken
as i fall
from the desolate tundra
of dreams
ghosts will guide me home
i cannot leave them
they embrace the seams of my body
and carry me down
a canvas of thoughts
untouched by grace
i am gone
simply glass

The Flowers' Lament                    I dream
                  of a field
                 of daffodils,
              and a waveless mirror
                   of water
                 in its midst.
                  Of a visage
               of my resemblance
            wondering with my eyes.
             Of the unending void
               of this universe
              seeded with holes;
              of the cold petals
              of countless stars,
           and the gravity of souls.
                   I dream
            of their seeds of black
                 taking root;
                and their blood
                  of violet
                birthing fruit -
             with coagulated wings
                   of velvet
                 taking flight,
                 and the river
               of spilt darkness
                 upon my sight.
                    I dream
                 of a pavillon
              of purple papillons;
               of their embrace
shiverstrains run across her wrist most of the time
they run up her arms
and slip down her spine
they claim finely draw lines,
those tracks on her thighs
and stop
to drop
where the sun shines
planes sore through her stomach,
scrape the frame of her hips
melt her joints and cast whimpers behind her lips
they glide through the shudders in her knee caps
then dip
around her shoulders,
and escape
through her finger tips
Cafune.i love the quiet blush
of the sunset on
the lake;
gentle waves lapping at your
toes like minnows.
sitting on the dock
with the willow trees
around us,
the wind sighing and
content as a smile.
there are some moments
i wish i could stop,
pause and revisit
again and again
and again and again.
because even though the world
around us teemed with beauty,
i could only see the radiance
of your smile
on that last day of summer.
it was all skinned knees
and stop signs between us.
we pushed too hard
or not hard enough.
the last star i wished upon
turned out to be a satellite,
and the last time i kissed you
really wasn't the last time.
the scent of romance- pine needles
and sawdust clung to my shoulders
where your fingers left goose flesh
when i least expected it.
i'd be tangled up in you and bed sheets
if i didn't know you better than that,
[sweetheart,] you're thunderstorms on
Saturday nights and "Why don't you stay
for awhile"
's and the infidelities
that line my cheeks.

daily deviation highlights

:bulletpink: i've been tagged by Mrs-Freestar-Bul and BlackBowfin
for #DDHighlights .

and since i make regular features for lit favourites, i've decided to feature 
eight breathtaking visual pieces that have been featured for daily deviations in july 2015.
i like the whole concept and might do more features like this.
just looking at them makes me forget my troubles even for a couple of seconds.
more power to the CVs and Daily Deviations.

Lana in her cage by Katarinea

Still Alice by Venesmir Tree House by nokeek

Flowers by TetianaKorobeinyk

Hungarian skies pt.CXCVIII. by realityDream

Poppies in the blue by kayaksailor 

Vitamine C by Alienette

Strawberry Brownie Cake by Tiefenschaerfe


it is no wonder that chromeantennae's writing has gathered :+fav:s
and admirers. today, i'd like to share with you my personal favourites
from his huge gallery.  

tsikadayou're a cicada,
both in voice
hemmed to my eardrums,
and in(c)lined in the spaces
of a love
still age,
this divinity
is once in full
and this
is once in a lifetime
of many dues.
many hues
of the sky;
i feel who
you are:
drinking our whispers at dusk,
and swallowing the weight
of it all at dawn.
we are hiding alone
in the light-
ness of new days
and the bright-
ness of closed eyes.
(because it's been said
a million times,
but you see everything clearly
when you're blind.)
lovestruck like lightning--
it struck twice before
we finally got it right.
encapsulate the heavens
in the pods of our mouths
as we hold it, breathless
we feel our longing lungs
through the past shades
of loneliness-- now open
blinds to a day
just beginning.
and the room is spinning
because this is a childlike
happiness that has bud its
head like a rose.
formyou plucked the strings
of my mind with every syllable
you whispered in my pillowcase
and you docked them
with your own notes,
as we lay together
in eventual silence
and gradual significance.
(a quiet explosion
of so many things
we've finally said.)
asleep is only another
avenue to fall for you.
what a decadent experience
that i try to immerse myself in.
this delicate rarity
has slid a little goddess
into my hands
in the form of you.
sicsometimes, i can't contain my loneliness.
[sic]kness/six words
cannot articulate
this numbness i feel
and some nights:
i fall apart
and the rain
from my head
is a tsunami
that chokes me
from the nose
echolalia, live on. forever, forever. (#29)it's easiest to displace
and display, to misuse,
uncork, disregard
and mute with hands.
we used them
to end a war
we didn't know
was waged.
but in the wrinkles of my palms,
i spread the ant feet
of your words into the mountain
of my hands until they are but wisps
at the tips
of my fingers.
your hands
were your greatest quality.
and they still are.
i'd much rather
end the story on that note,
for it is a proper burial
to know the soil
kisses your weary knuckles.

Time is a mental conception; a suffocating mechanism,
Where we are bound and confined to man-made dates and deadlines,
When in reality, the only ‘time’ we should concentrate on and address,
Are the moments before we cross death's line.......
poetry of a little thing i've never felti adore like there's no tomorrow
because every next day
to this point has ended with me
lying alone in my bed,
staring at the ceiling
in a melancholic silence.
and i want to write poetry
about the way her hair
rests on my pillow
and her scent lingers
in the air 
like the comforting warmth
of fireplaces aflame,
but i wouldn't know
how to quite write about that.
which, i guess,
is sort of the point.
missing you, missing wings, missing everythingthe sounds of airplanes overhead
make me teary-eyed
because i haven't seen one
in the real-world in months
and i'm reminded
i'll never be able to fly.
hopes and fears (#22)i put on hopes
and fears while writing this
and it's fitting
because you encourage my dreams
and make my anxieties 
feel a little less heavy.
and when i get tired,
i know exactly where to go:
where my hope begins
and my fears cease.
at least for the moments
when we're together.

:bulletblue: previous feature:

(39) handpicked: sketches with gummyrabbit

:bulletblue: for your most :+fav: pieces of art, write me a note or link me to your own creations.
i might have been missing out on them and i would appreciate that you share them with me.

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Add a Comment:
FridgePoetProject Featured By Owner Nov 13, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Hello, my dear.  You've been crossing my mind lately, so I just wanted to send a little love your way.  Hope all is well!  :hug: :heart:
Mrs-Freestar-Bul Featured By Owner Oct 8, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Hope you are good sweetie :pray: :hug:
hypermagical Featured By Owner Sep 27, 2015
Scarlettletters Featured By Owner Sep 24, 2015  Professional Writer
Thanks very much for the fave - I appreciate it! And sorry this is so late!
Mrs-Freestar-Bul Featured By Owner Sep 14, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Hey sweetie :hug:
How are you :blowkiss:
Add a Comment: