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Emilio's Flirty PastaMy good friend Emilio Mazzanti from the most romantic Venice sent me one of his new recipes in the view of Valentine’s Day next month, “Flirty Pasta”. This is a very unique recipe, especially for those in love with sure results, triple tested by Emilio, if you plan on proposing to your other half. Actually, Emilio cooked this dish on Valentine’s Day for his then girlfriend now MS. Mazzanti under the starry sky. So, my precious lovebirds, wear your aprons and start cooking…
500 grams strawberries, chopped in squares,
A package of heart shaped pasta,
50 years of marriage balsamic vinegar,
A can of pureed tomatoes,
Salt from the great lovers’ sea,
Passionate Chili peppers,
3 Valentine’s Day kisses,
Goddess Aphrodite’s Basil,
Grated Parmesan for serving,
Bring a large pot of water and 2 magic teaspoons of salt to boil. Add the pasta and cook until al dente (or follow the package instructions).
In the mean
Marina's Laughter PattiesThis is a variation of a very old and secret recipe of my grandmother, Eugenia, “Eugenia’s Smiling Patties”. I changed this recipe because of my sister, Cranky Sofia, because, since a dragon – elephant sat on her mallows, she was constantly sulky and grumpy. However, since she ate the patties, she is smiley and cheerful. She replanted the mallows but this time she put repellent with mouse flavor…
Ingredients for the crust:
250 grams all -purpose flour,
1/3 br. tea cup olive oil,
¾ br. glass of lukewarm water,
1 pinch of salt
Ingredients for the filling:
3 morning smiles (preferably fresh),
2 m. teaspoons tickling powder,
5 drops of sugar-eraser syrup for the bad memories,
1 handful chopped chocolate
In a bowl put the flour, oil, salt and little by little add the lukewarm water, kneading until you end up with dough that doesn’t stick to your hands. Put aside.
In a bowl add the smiles, the tickling powder (caref
Caged Self-destructionThe beast moved slightly. His frozen expression started to break. This change was petty, almost unnoticeable but he realized it. He raised his big head and stared with cold, green eyes the bars of his cage.
“Soon.”, he thought.
He, then, returned to his previous position and closed his eyes. He was still too weak but he concentrated. He noticed that an unknown source was feeding him, making him stronger. Feelings. Strong feelings for someone. A man; as always. When the beast first decided to reside inside her, she looked like an easy target. She would break instantly. But yet, it took her 7 years to finally start doubting. But it didn’t matter. If the engine had started working, it would be impossible to stop the procedure.
“Soon but why to wait?” he thought and smirked.
He had regained a tiny fragment of his former power, a fragment enough to break her resistance. He didn’t need to do much. She needed just a small push. And it’d be over. So
The Foolishness of DesiresThe woman crossed the small bridge with quick steps. Her heels echoed on the cold stone. Behind her, a man followed her hurriedly with long, quiet strides.
“So easily will you leave our children and me?” he asked her with desperation.
The woman didn’t turn around to face him. Tears were running on her cheeks.
“I-I have to l-leave…” she managed to say. “I-I want to get a-away of this place. C-can’t take it anymore.”
With those words, strength seemed to leave her body and the woman fell on her knees on the grass. That grass was brighter there. Her husband, surprised and confused, didn’t know how to react. He stepped closer to her, trying to hold her in his arms, but the woman’s sobs become louder and harder. She leaned over the crystal clear waters of the lake. She saw her face, tired and aged before its time. Her youth had flown away too quickly; hardships had replaced happiness and carelessness. She had achieved too
5 a.m.It’s 5 a.m.
And they kicked me out of the bar again
The third one this week
They said I got drunk
and had a fight
for an imaginary woman
You only exist in my head now?
I don’t go home anymore
It’s suffocating to watch our past
So, I roam around every night
With fuzy eyes
To see you again
One last time
Before dawn finds me dead
Red is the theme tonightHe stood there, staring at a big, white emptiness. His eyes blank, hollow. It had been months since the passion had left his body transforming him into a cheap replica of what he used to be. Many didn’t notice the difference, but for the few ones he mattered the most, he was a different person, a stranger. He knew they would criticize him; his best friends. He hadn’t called them or kept in touch for months. They waited there for a sign of his to know he was alright. They waited patiently but the only thing he could do was to stare the white wall. He hadn’t noticed the empty packs of cigarettes and the filthy coffee mugs thrown all over the place. The heavy atmosphere from the smoke didn’t bother him. His body, tired and malnourished, was complaining for comfort but the only thing he was hungry of was passion, inspiration.
Disappointed, he took a half empty mug from the table and walked to the window. With the same resigned look, he gazed the view of his balco
An Underground City (4 Final, Extended End)Ralf and his gang walked out of the centre of Celintium. They headed to the west side of the mountains towards Miritror a small deserted village with hardly any people and ravaged buildings. They passed some dark buildings ready to fall and took an alley headed to the upper levels of the mines. No one walked there so the four men took of their masks and lowered their hoods.
After ten minutes of a rough climbing they met themselves in front of a tall and imposing tower made of red colored rocks. That building seemed new and well preserved and a sense of vibrancy was wafting on the air. Ralf got closer to a wooden door and even though the place desolated he checked the area around him. When he made sure it was clear, he pushed the door open gently and made a motion to the rest.
“Don’t move an inch.” he hissed.
They others nodded anxiously and positioned themselves in front of the door. Ralf climbed the stairs of the dim lighted building and stopped on the top level of t
An Underground City (4 Final)“Who is Gilda?” Emma asked Gresilda.
The woman had refused to answer any of Emma’s questions the previous night and insisted that she should get some rest. Now, as the sun had risen in a hot and suffocating morning, Emma, Gresilda and her children were pacing down the paved roads of Celinthium. They passed through the populous and alive neighborhoods and then took a channel out of the centre of the city, deeper into the mountains. There, the air was pleasantly cooler but the moisture stuck on Emma’s exposed skin and made her joins hurt. Anne, Hugh and Nicolas didn’t seem to mind and ran before the two ladies chasing one another and giggling. Gresilda, on the other hand, had a difficult time.
“She is a very spiritual woman,” Gresilda replied and wiped the sweat off her face. “She is a healer and a priestess. She isn’t very easy to approach, you’ll see it by yourself, but she never failed to cure any disease or predict immanent
I am a MouseI am a mouse.
I am quiet, I am nothing.
I am a book that nobody has read.
I am an eclipsed sun and a cloaked moon.
I am irrelevant and unwanted, a broken toy in an attic.
I am the dust in your rear-view mirror that you leave behind.
I am the air that you breathe in and spit out as something different.
I am the palest white. I am the darkest black. I am the dullest, emptiest grey.
I am the old man with forgotten memories and the baby who has yet to make them.
I am a forgotten word, dangling on the tip of your tongue, hanging on the noose of your lips.
I am a dried up stream. I am a felled forest. I am an abandoned cornucopia of resolute nothingness.
And there is Hell burning in my eyes.
PainParalized by the suffering
A shiver down my spine
Images of my past haunt me
No one can save me from this hell
to me you are perfect
I do not know the reasons
for all those scars burning
against your bright skin
you've been soaking
a pain reminiscing from past
we both cannot recollect
yet you are so beautiful..
when night gets darker
and I am the one...
who's hungered to undress
the spirit of you
slowly revealing the layers
coming off from shadows
disguised in desires
craving to be fulfilled
I will caress every corner
of your silhouette
until I figure the true shape
of your heart
I will rub those blisters
softly until every nerve
of you gushes into a river
and you moan into a life
I had promised you
years ago when we began
to breathe into each other
for all the truths
I must swallow
and lessons I must learn
you are the one
I am destined to discover
what it means
to love in perfection
A void within meAlone on this inhospitable night, once again
I let my memories guide my lost steps,
Wandering amid the ghosts of my past.
As I walk along the quay,
I stare at the feeble Seine flowing:
She's dying by the street lamps' hands
While the whole city asphyxiates.
Reflecting my own lack of humanity
Over the river's lighted surface,
Griefs come and go at the water's rhythm.
Once again, on this breathtaking night,
My feelings are sealed and my chest hollow.
Purple rain, chills of cold.... Or regret? I crave
My musical drug, my remaining salvation,
Spreading a sweet poison within me and
Eroding the remaining happiness I still have.
I plug my headphones...
A grin of relief appears on my weary face,
I flee to lenient lands, where a familiar Angel tucks me in.
These notes of violin split the immutable silence,
Fill the hole in, lit a bonfire to my soul.
This mermaid sings my dreams to me,
i can't keep walking on these dry-rot bonesoh, i am not a poet;
like the ink scratches
of plath, i am
specter boy: decay,
dispose, & disappoint
because this is the way
that writers wane -
(this hangman head is no
survivor story, & gods
do not burn out
you talk like a travestyoh, mercury boy, you can't
write your way out of this
body or out of this mind;
you can pray like it's high-fashion,
insist you're only burning yourself out
(but tell me - do you feel like a god yet?)
if only for murky mirrors &
silver cicadas caught
in your ribcage, you've
got a knack for decaying
california wintersthe tears
I rationed have all
run out. Tuesday comes
up behind me and steals
my breath; my cat snores.
she can’t sleep soundly
since she lost her seventh
life. I’m like that, I’m always
worried someone will try to steal
what I’ve already given away.
I miss color. newsprint sobs
washed me out. I am a
blank canvas, I am a faceless,
I am one
of you. I wake up sweating
and it’s winter and I can’t
sleep because my memories
follow me between my sheets;
jake still won’t listen.
we never knew we were the
lucky ones, we scarred, too. don’t
touch me. don’t want
me, don’t bare my bones
when you think I’m not
watching. I’m afraid of
myself. breathing loud
enough that others know
I exist; you follow me,
needing, laughing, it’s
a game. who has lost
the most, we all want
to win; I’m so tired, so scared,
there’s no one in the world
who sees me. I can’t cry.
we’re in a drought.
Hold the HeartI.
Your heart is like the old wall,
at the end of the street,
filled with random scribbles,
of names and dates.
Though yours smells of wine and scented candles,
cluttered with faulty promises rather than garbage.
I watched you toss it so many times,
like a useless rag ball, but this time hurt didn't it?
She couldn't bear to see her name,
topping the list of a million others,
nor the lipstick print you forgot to wipe,
mixed with the scent of another's perfume.
She added a new smudge to your wall,
a line of black carefully drawn
across the memories and faces,
and firmly stated:
"No more littering allowed at all".
Then she took a hammer and ripped a hole,
wincing in disgust at the decaying flesh hiding below.
Hold your heart in your hands,
the patches can no longer sustain,
there are too many pieces now,
I think you're even harming it more,
with every sting of the needle,
while you desperately try to sew it whole.
Keep in Touch!
Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More