Kaboodleschmitt

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Sing the Song by Kaboodleschmitt, literature

Literature

Sing the Song

When time has come and, flitting, gone ’tis then that those who know the song Put down their cares to sing along. The joy within a heart may be A copper breeze to stir the trees; Else yet to what’ll I compare thee, O fairest maid my eyes have seen? For me, my hands are stain’d with ink And oft too long I take to think, Not meeting Action’s bravest sound But somehow stealing my way around… Yet when I heard the melody The song was wondrously clear to me And so I stopped to sing the song. Within my heart, you sang along.

Survivor by Kaboodleschmitt, literature

Literature

Survivor

“There were nine of us,” he says. Like I don't know that already. I was one of those nine; I was there. He doesn't really remember, though. Every time he tells the story, he treats me like I'm someone new, someone who didn't share every experience, every horrific moment with him. But I was there. I did see what he saw, and I know. He grips my arm. “Tony, stop,” I say, attempting to wrest control of my wrist back from him. “I know, Tony. I know because I was there, remember?” Tony doesn't stop. If anything he holds on tighter. Can he really not remember that I was one of the nine people he's tal

Breath by Kaboodleschmitt, literature

Literature

Breath

Ethan hurtled down the corridor, his breath coming in gasps of sharp air, the smell he had grown to identify with life aboard a spaceship. Normally its sanitary cleanness, close to an antiseptic scent was almost comforting, reminding him where his home currently was, but now as it came tumbling down his throat it left a screaming trail of ragged pain behind it, and when it reached his lungs it burned. This, he knew, was an effect of breathing so much of the air so quickly; it was meant for regular, methodical, measured breathing, and had been tweaked until it was the perfect cocktail of bacteria-fighting agents, oxygen, and other elements d

The Reluctant Fighter by Kaboodleschmitt, literature

Literature

The Reluctant Fighter

The reluctant fighter stands quietly. He'll be ready in an instant to fight, Just give him the proper motivation, you'll see! The reluctant fighter stands for a long while And then he sits. The proper motivation is lacking. One day, he dreams, incentive will arrive. Evil men seeking to harm those he loves, Or a dramatic event - someone trying To steal something - or someone! - from him, perhaps. Dramatic events are not as common as in movies. So it is that while the reluctant fighter waits, Everything he has worth fighting for slips away; Is lost without a fight. It was not dramatic, and so He remained the reluctant fighter and did not fi

Unattainable by Kaboodleschmitt, literature

Literature

Unattainable

I strive. I have striven. Yesterday I strove. All my life I have striven to portray a feeling Exactly as I felt it. I've striven to make a photocopy of A moment of my life (or thoughts), And place it, in words, on the page. This, to me, is true art. This, to me, is what artists ought to strive for. This, I believe, is impossible. I fail. I have failed. Yesterday I failed. All my life I have failed, yet I strive.

Patronus by Kaboodleschmitt, literature

Literature

Patronus

Joy and beauty Love and life These things are captured In a moment In the smile of a child. This moment is now frozen, Embedded in my mind forever. It has a certain kind of power, As though the fact that the joy was pure, And existed entirely in the moment, Makes it strong. It is a strong memory I now carry, Ready at a moment's notice to be called forth: My patronus charm against the negative within. It is a patronus charm that is Joy and beauty, Love and life.

Connections by Kaboodleschmitt, literature

Literature

Connections

Looking back on gravestones, Those playful things of old, Reminds me of my past And things I'd tried to hold fast. With a swift, cool wind And a brisk, warm walk Any battered old building Becomes food for my thoughts. A graveyard is a churchyard and A churchyard's by a church and The church I walked past (that battered old building) Had no graveyard that I saw. Yet that church is a church, And churches have churchyards And churchyards are graveyards And graveyards have gravestones And so it is that I contemplate gravestones Without having seen any.

El Matador by Kaboodleschmitt, literature

Literature

El Matador

"Take the bull by its horns," The wild man said, "Else you'll find yourself worn, Or else you'll be dead." I nodded assent, not then knowing The meaning he meant with his words. I nodded assent, then believing I'd heard all there was to be heard. The wild man entered the ring, His slender frame ne'er quivering. His hands did not shake And his eyes were on fire, Ad when the bell sounded -- ding! He took the bull by its horns. "Take the bull by its horns," he'd said. All my life's been reserved, passive at best. What if his saying Was meant for the heart That lives in my chest? I've never lived half so bright As he did that glorious night W

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Sing the Song by Kaboodleschmitt, literature

Literature

Sing the Song

Survivor by Kaboodleschmitt, literature

Literature

Survivor

Breath by Kaboodleschmitt, literature

Literature

Breath

The Reluctant Fighter by Kaboodleschmitt, literature

Literature

The Reluctant Fighter

Unattainable by Kaboodleschmitt, literature

Literature

Unattainable

Patronus by Kaboodleschmitt, literature

Literature

Patronus

Connections by Kaboodleschmitt, literature

Literature

Connections

El Matador by Kaboodleschmitt, literature

Literature

El Matador

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Illidan Stormrage Colour by Kaboodleschmitt, visual art

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Kaboodleschmitt

About Kaboodleschmitt

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Artist // Hobbyist // Varied

Mar 27, 1990
Canada
Deviant for 14 years
www.iris-development.com
He / Him

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My Bio

Nom da name: Kaboodleschmitt
Fire and Ice. That's right.
My apologies. I don't sprechen your speaky :/
That is to say...
"Par les vous englais?"

Current Residence: Ontario, Canada
deviantWEAR sizing preference: Medium, I suppose
Print preference: Cursive is fine, too
Favourite genre of music: Soft rock? RAP DIE NOW... Techno? DIE COUNTRY DIE... Normal rock? Depends, really.
Favourite photographer: Someone who's really, really good at photography
Favourite style of art: Fantasy/sci-fi
Operating System: Windows XP
MP3 player of choice: WMP or XMPlay
Wallpaper of choice: ...Because I keep it the same. Which is to say, it changes. Right now it's actually XP defaul
Skin of choice: Epidermis
Favourite cartoon character: KIMPOSSIBLE... Just kidding. Buzz Lightyear? I dunno
Personal Quote: "The secret of living a long, happy life is not dying when you're three years old."

Favourite Visual Artist

Meself! ...I jest, obviously.

Favourite Movies

LotR (3 for 1 and 1 for 3!)

Favourite TV Shows

Heroes (sesaon 1), Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Stargate: Atlantis, Legend of the Seeker, 24

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Ozone, Ayreon, Coldplay, Five for Fighting, Nickelback... Etc...

Favourite Writers

J.R.R. Tolkien

Favourite Games

The 'Gothic' series by Piranha Bytes

Favourite Gaming Platform

N64 (duh)

Tools of the Trade

MECHANICAL PENCILZ FOREVARZOR LULZ

Other Interests

Writing/reading, art, friends, gaming, riding, lazing, eating cake and cookies

Posts

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Kaboodleschmitt

Nov 12, 2015

NovemberWriMo!

0 min read

So it's November again.  Uh-huh.  It's that time of the year that we writerly folk sharpen our pens and fill our pencils with ink for NaNoWriMo.  I first participated in NaNoWriMo back in 2009 when I was a young university student.  I thought 'bah!  What's the worst that can happen?'  At that point, of course, I got snowed under by essays that needed writing, midterms that needed taking (and some of which needed studying, as well), etc.  I did end up completing the 50,000 required words, but only just barely, and only because I wrote something like 26,000 words on the last weekend in November.  Yes, I was writing literally day and night for i

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Kaboodleschmitt

Jul 14, 2012

Devious Journal Entry

0 min read

Mm, so I'm attempting to go through the long, long back-log of comments, art, etc I have accumulated through my absence from DA.  I currently have 1,041 items in the messages centre...  Down about 200 from where I started, so that's good.  I went through a bunch of journals, some polls, etc. Then I came to the 'reply stacks' section, and realized that I had 30 pages of items there.  Why so many?  Well, because I really and truly meant to reply to the comments there (which were usually parts of conversations I'd been having with people), but ended up not getting around to it, but not deleting the comments because doing so made me feel really

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Kaboodleschmitt

Sep 13, 2011

101

0 min read

...It just struck me as I wrote the title of this entry that '101' can be linked to any number of things; I was originally thinking of making a play on words with '101 Dalmatians' except it wouldn't be 'Dalmatians' because, well, I was thinking of the fact that I have 101 pieces uploaded to my gallery... But then, when I left the title simply as '101' I realized that it could also be thought of in regards to something very basic...  Like 'this is about art 101' meaning the fundamentals of art. Anyway, enough of that.  I just wanted to post something on here to say 'hi everyone' and note the fact that I am now married... Yeah, I'm married O

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Profile Comments 274

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darkingshadowfallen

Mar 4, 2020

You've been gone too long.

He shall be missed.

*poke and runs away*

mahahhaa

stefanienicholas

Jan 13, 2013

Still around here Stuart? I hope you're well

Kaboodleschmitt

Sep 12, 2013

Semi-sorta, I am indeed! I've been posting a fair amount of poetry lately, actually, and sorta browsing around, but making sure to avoid the 'DA sucks your soul and all your time' thing...

*pester pester* = )

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