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About Deviant Artist Nemo24/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 9 Years
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Statistics 84 Deviations 292 Comments 8,879 Pageviews

Newest Deviations

The Boys of Kilkenny :iconmacolic:Macolic 1 0
Mature content
Hadvar and Dovahkiin: The Bedroom Hymns :iconmacolic:Macolic 7 6
Mature content
All I Need :iconmacolic:Macolic 51 16
A Personal Riddle
I am counted among the wee folk in stature,
And was birthed in the land of the sun.
My soul is old, but my body is young.
My hair is akin to the lungs of the Earth,
Its shade common, but none less than others in worth.
Hearken to the voice that whispers as sand over a stone,
For upon this wisdom is divulged, though few may ever know.
Behind my ribs pulses the heart of a writer,
For the scritching of the pen is that which makes the night brighter.
My body is stocky, strong, and stable, but exaggerated in feminine kind:
Too old for my age, but too young for my mind.
My eyes are weak, but my intuition is keen:
I see all, yet am unseen.
The simplest oddities set my curiosity aflame,
Solve this riddle, if you can give me a name.
:iconmacolic:Macolic 1 0
Clack of buttons,
flash of indignant red hair
Heart hammering
Humiliation, no voice
Body shuddering, then
the coolness of the stone wall
at my side
A gentle hand upon my back
Babble of strangers' voices,
"Get the nurse,"
Groaning of the wheelchair
Thoughts racing like atoms
Tears and mucus gliding over plastic
Help me.
:iconmacolic:Macolic 0 0
Ocean of numbers and letters
Blending, fading together
Ruler descending
Answer, write
"Where is your voice?
Speak up."
:iconmacolic:Macolic 0 0
'I'm Sorry'
Chills, piercing wind
Cabin rocking as a ship
upon the sea
Waves of metal behemoths
Crackling bass
Sun hidden behind a darkened window
Faint wave of a hand
Pinprick of joy
and gone within a second
Pay no mind
I'm sorry.
:iconmacolic:Macolic 0 0
Body rigid
Pain and nausea
Fingers shaking,
heart quaking
Chest cavity resonating,
with the sound of chains clanking
Iron, rust
Minuscule flakes fluttering,
choking, muttering
Temples throbbing
Shame, despair
Never enough, never enough
:iconmacolic:Macolic 0 0
Little Pagan :iconmacolic:Macolic 1 0
Every day the same thing: comings and goings, migraines, fixedly regarding the back of his head as he turns away to resume his routine without you. Frustration and anxiety settling in your gut, the percussion in your head dying away with each step he makes.
It is a daily and Herculean effort to resist the urge to chase after him; to take a running leap and throw your arms around him in an iron, unconditional grip, as Janet captured Tam Lin, in order to lose yourself in the deafening crescendo of the drumming his presence arouses between your ears. It is his boundless energy that is the cause of everything, and you know this well, for rarely a day goes by when he is not radiant with a passion for life you never deemed possible to exist, which combined with the searing heat of his golden skin led you long ago to speculate that he had swallowed the Sun.
His resemblance to the life-giving star is uncanny, reflected in his eyes, the intensity and beauty of his smile, running up from the tip
:iconmacolic:Macolic 0 3
Butterfly on a Wheel
Butterfly on a Wheel
For the love of Otonyus, it had been hours! Dagmar snorted and slammed shut the ancient text she had busied herself with in the attempt to drown out the irritating rambling of her cousin on the far side of the library. The older woman had been going on for what felt like eternity about the history of Ìndalwiin, describing every Gods forsaken nook and cranny as she flitted almost anxiously about the room, occasionally making strange, quick gestures, stabbing her finger Heavenward or fluttering her hands about in the air as though it helped to further prove her point.
Every once in a while her voice, youthful despite her age, would fade into a blessed silence that didn't last long enough for relief to set in, as a moment later she would proceed to clap her hands together and giggle merrily about absolutely nothing in particular. Dagmar sighed deeply and shook her head; madness was claiming this one early. Of course, had she not promised Father that she would kee
:iconmacolic:Macolic 0 3
Pagan :iconmacolic:Macolic 16 0 Germany :iconmacolic:Macolic 14 5
Silk and Steel
No one is sane at sixteen
when you stand before the looking glass
clutching your sorrel locks,
your head on the marble counter,
your fingers at the roots.
The ink sky is pregnant,
the moon's light full.
Supple creatures lounge about on the grass,
their voices slurred with drink.
As you stray away to sit,
to mull, to think.
Over the torture of flesh most desireable:
that of a lamb, or that of a lion.
The soft yielding body, needing such gentleness,
and the soft flesh concealing the steel beneath.
Beautiful, strong, hairless,
and slow to yield to the arms of sweet relief.
Who alive can make clear
the very thing that sets apart
the beauties of Silk,
and of Steel?
For in the dark,
the garden of their luxuries are stark,
none dominating over the other.
But no.
Have you the heart of a maiden,
or the duty of a man,
such desires of you
must be ridden,
keep them hidden,
take a scissor and enjoy the danger
of a passion forbidden.
The accursed hairs
fall in clusters to the cold tile
beneath your
:iconmacolic:Macolic 2 0
Sonnet to a Spaniard
The leather fails and the denim retreats,
generously exposing the muscled globes
like two stones, firm and youthful,
teasingly hidden beneath a band of pale blue.
The band rises just above the loose denim,
hugging the voluptuous, masculine curves,
outlining the the contours like iron ropes
and clinging like a second skin.
The too-big sark is lifted above the
sculpted waist, revealing the fine trail of fur
that travels down the olive toned abdomen,
escaping into the pale blue shield, where
treasures of awesomeness and beauty
coyly wait to be discovered.
:iconmacolic:Macolic 2 2
Nuke :iconmacolic:Macolic 2 7

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United States
I consider myself an artist in many ways. I'm a writer, photographer, and occasional sketch artist. Everything about the world fascinates me.

Current Residence: The East Coast
Favourite genre of music: Folk
Personal Quote: "I'm not very attractive when my head's rolling around on the floor."


No journal entries yet.


Add a Comment:
imaginationbutterfly Featured By Owner Jul 8, 2016  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
I like your photography
insomiaisdead Featured By Owner Mar 4, 2015
Happy birthday ;)
theboss95 Featured By Owner Mar 4, 2013  Hobbyist
happy b-dayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
archamboo Featured By Owner Oct 5, 2012  Hobbyist Digital Artist
theboss95 Featured By Owner Mar 4, 2012  Hobbyist
happy b-dayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
MisukiSouma Featured By Owner Jul 19, 2011
Thanks for the :+fav: :)
dustysundays Featured By Owner Jul 16, 2011
thank you for the fave!! :iconilikeitplz:
Devona-Is-Best Featured By Owner Jul 13, 2011
I love your pictures. They're different than others on DA, and i really love it. keep it up :woohoo:
spiritdetectivegirl Featured By Owner Jul 12, 2011  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Much thanks for the fave!
Jesalynn Featured By Owner Jul 11, 2011
thank you for the favorite!
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