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About Deviant Artist Tracey SimmonsFemale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 10 Years
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Newest Deviations

Wolf Sketch :iconpocky-machine:Pocky-Machine 5 10 Drifting in Between :iconpocky-machine:Pocky-Machine 3 1 Eve :iconpocky-machine:Pocky-Machine 6 14 The Soldier :iconpocky-machine:Pocky-Machine 1 4 The Apple :iconpocky-machine:Pocky-Machine 3 3 Body Paint - Retouched :iconpocky-machine:Pocky-Machine 29 6 Fox Ears - FOR SALE :iconpocky-machine:Pocky-Machine 1 5
Literature
oil
There is a painting on the wall
Of a man
With his back turned
Walking away from me
In the rain
And oh how my heart would leap
If he were to turn heel
Bring the sun through the clouds
And walk back to me
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Lola :iconpocky-machine:Pocky-Machine 3 11
Literature
Thoughts on Paradise
              I think Paradise was something we once had and lost long ago. Something that is still out there, waiting to be found. It calls to us, a constant noise that with time we forget to hear. Paradise is waiting. It is, as a whole, somewhere quite possibly beyond our reach. But we can find pieces of it hidden in the strangest of places. Perhaps at the supermarket, in a bouquet of flowers that is not quite perfect, but to us looks right. Or under an overpass on the highway, in the lonely tumbleweeds that seem to remind us of something forgotten. It is in Faith, all Faith, be it in a church or under a labcoat. Things that to us seem natural, familiar when they should not be, may in fact be small glimpses of the thing which we constantly, and yet unknowingly, strive towards.
            Paradise, to me, is the small glimmer of hope that graces us when th
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Sketch - Werewolves :iconpocky-machine:Pocky-Machine 3 14 Imogen Heap - Watercolor :iconpocky-machine:Pocky-Machine 5 8
Literature
When I write
When I write
it will be like blossoms
springing off the page
and wilting in you hand
and blowing away
in the breeze
The crisp
new pages
will smell sweet
and welcoming and warm
drawing you in
daring you to flip them
and inhale
The words
will taste bitter
to the unrefined tongue
and subtly sweet
to the practiced literate
and the pure of soul
more addicting
than the cocaine
running in the protagonist's veins
When you begin
to see through the characters' eyes
you will find
that they are brimming with tears
and it is difficult
to see the surrounding world
and its everchanging beauty
When I write
a symphony will spout
from the plotline
which is so like
a symphony itself
moving slowly to a climax
and stealing your heart away
You will hear the heartbeat
dance the dance
become the story
and search at the end
for one more page
when there is none to be found
When I write
I will do so in hopes
that you will see
underneath the sewers
of fantasy and escapade
and find
the truth I'm dying to tell
I wi
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Literature
Some Days
Some days
I am told what to write
and in that
told what to be
how to feel
and how to dream
I want to write a painting
that sings
about sunsets and soft spring grass
because that's where I want to be
somewhere soft
and beautiful
with nobody around
Some days
my writing is interpreted
and they say
that I want to be alone
I need my space
a vacation
I want to bathe in your gaze
to feel wanted
because I'm so goddamn lonely
and bitter
And so, so tired
that I wish for a while
the world would cease to spin
Now and again
someone says they understand
and they spew
some sort of bullshit
that they think has to do with my psyche
and smile
proud of themselves
for cracking me
I want to cry
all the time, every day
out of pity
for those who claim to understand
out of anguish
for their hopeless inability
to crack me open
and let me FEEL
Rarely I'm asked
what it is I want.
It is assumed I have an answer
and I do
My heart screams it
my soul bleeds it
And at the tip of my tongue
the words change
to 'I'm fin
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Literature
Confessions
I'm tired
I'm so so tired
I feel my heartbeat falter
now and again
dizzy
Like time slipped out from under me
Naturally unafraid
curiously unkempt
for someone who knows they can be beautiful
like a bird in a cage
fluttering, hopeful
lethargic, trapped
I used to be good
I once was full of love
Sometimes they look at me
And they think I still am
Until I return the gaze
and they shut their mouths
When did I get mean
and start hurting myself
and loving only those without need for it
shutting myself away
and wondering, endlessly, why?
Candlewax litters my windowsill
each one a promise
each one a lie to myself
Dreams of Paradise
That will never come true
I'm so tired
of being a dreamer
of choosing to be alone
I long for a summer day
colorful, warm and bright
It's cold up here
in the little prison I've built
No arms around me
No soothing voice
No one to say goodbye to
All I want is sleep
To dream of summer days
music and life around me
wind tossing flowers in the air
cool grass to fall back in
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Literature
Keep You Guessing
I like to keep you guessing
keep you wondering why
Its never been easy
It never will be
I'm anything but normal
I like a belt around my neck
A knife in my pocket
and worn out soles on my shoes
I'm a wanderer
I've been called a mystic
A gypsy with eyes like the sky before a storm
My hair I wear tangled against my back
If you look for my emotions
you will find none
If you ask for my love
I will hear the word without a meaning
Isolation suits me
In crowds I survive
The body is here
The mind far, far away
You could walk beside me
Take my hand and run
But the sights we see together
will be different beyond compare
My eyes see only his
I walk for him, breathe for him
I love for him
Because I do not know if he can
I live his life and my own
I will die for us both
And like as not
He will not care
I like to keep you guessing
about who I am
Why I walk the hard road
When the worn soft path stands beside my trail
And I'll tell you
I keep you guessing
Because I hope you'll find an answer
I can't se
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Activity


It's between going to SCAD in Savannah Georgia, or Santa Fe University of Art and Design. It would help a lot if you guys would tell me what you think, because deciding between the two is killing me.

deviantID

Pocky-Machine
Tracey Simmons
Artist
United States

Comments


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:iconphantom-mist:
Phantom-Mist Featured By Owner Feb 29, 2012
Hey Pocky, dont know if you remember me but I'm :icontangissun: here now.
Reply
:icondiomaxwelle:
DioMaxwelle Featured By Owner Jun 1, 2011
I believe we met at Fanime, in line? XD Hopefully I have the right person!
Reply
:iconpocky-machine:
Pocky-Machine Featured By Owner Jun 6, 2011
Yes, I think we did! I haven't been in town really since then :P
Reply
:icondiomaxwelle:
DioMaxwelle Featured By Owner Jun 6, 2011
If it makes you feel better, I don't think I've fully unwound myself. XD I'm still putting things away in my room.
Reply
:iconlathrine:
Lathrine Featured By Owner Mar 19, 2011
:hug:
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:iconcombatspace:
Combatspace Featured By Owner Jan 24, 2011  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Heyo! Haven't talked to you in a while so I figured I'd stop by. How're things?
Reply
:iconpocky-machine:
Pocky-Machine Featured By Owner Jan 25, 2011
Things are super good. I'm dating, had an awesome time at FurCon, made a lot of new friends. It has been a while though. What's up with you?
Reply
:iconcombatspace:
Combatspace Featured By Owner Jan 25, 2011  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Actually, I joined the Air Force and I'm an air traffic controller at Keesler AFB in Mississippi. Completely turned my life around from being homeless and jobless...
Reply
:iconpocky-machine:
Pocky-Machine Featured By Owner Jan 26, 2011
That's amazing! My family is more Navy, so I've only been on one AFB. Do you live on base now?
Reply
(1 Reply)
:icondreamingroses:
DreamingRoses Featured By Owner Jan 16, 2011  Hobbyist General Artist
Hi Tracy!
-Talia
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