Cait-Ry

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The Owl by Cait-Ry, literature

Literature

The Owl

"Who are you?" I ask, but you only answer the same. Who? Who? You call back instead of a name. I wonder your origins or whether each night it's the same bird who sits and doesn't take flight. I can feel your presence is always there. Even when the moon doesn't rise and all I can see are your all-knowing eyes. All-knowing they seem, But when I've a question to ask Who? Who? is all that you can call back.

Family Photos by Cait-Ry, literature

Literature

Family Photos

We hide behind our family photos where we're all standing in a line smiling like perfect angels and dressed in spotless white Photos don't come with tears or wrinkles that break us all apart Just a figment of what is meant to be and the façade behind which we hide The picture on our mantel piece is just our own brick wall designed to keep our fires in While the world is burning down

The Hummingbird by Cait-Ry, literature

Literature

The Hummingbird

We wander through the gardens where cacti search for sunlight in the shade of evergreens. Never knowing whose needles it is that litter the ground. Sunflowers reach towards the sky, turning their faces to the light. While the old oak stretches outward filling its land with rotting acorns. Yet when the hummingbird with paper-like wings and a wolf-like hunger, comes searching for its necter sunflowers turn their heads and cactus flowers have little to offer. The hummingbird Who has been here the longest Finds he must fly away For his cup-like flowers Were torn up With spilt necter

CSSSA Application Assignment E by Cait-Ry, literature

CSSSA Application Assignment D by Cait-Ry, literature

Literature

CSSSA Application Assignment D

Fear: You can never get rid of me completely. I'm part of your very nature; a part of you that makes you human. For now, I might just be a notion in your mind or a tiny patch of frost in the pit of your stomach waiting for the chance to grow. After all, it doesn't take much to wake me from this dormant state. One unnerving sight and I can take hold of you, seeping into your blood, chilling your mind, yet sharpening your senses. I know you hate me, the way I make you feel. I see it when you hide me away. The way you smile on the outside while I can feel the sweat on your palms and beat of your heart. You know, you couldn't survive witho

CSSSA Application Assignment C by Cait-Ry, literature

Literature

CSSSA Application Assignment C

The blinds in Robert Jeffery's hospital room glowed orange as the sun set behind them. Only the beeping of the EKG machine filled the silence, and even that was growing sparse. Jeffery knew that his time had come. He knew that he would die alone in a drab hospital room, picturing a tombstone reading "R. Jeffery 1961-2009". So, naturally, Jeffery was surprised when a strange man walked into his room on the evening of his death. The man was dressed like he had just stepped out of a court room and held the same calm expression on his face that the doctors had when they told Jeffery of his cancer. "What do you want?" demanded Jeffery. "I've

CSSSA Application Assignment B by Cait-Ry, literature

Literature

CSSSA Application Assignment B

The high ceilings, the brick walls and the hanging lights are all so familiar, but the room seems so different today. The scent of eggs drifts out of the kitchen when Dad, Maggie and I walk into Mom's new restaurant. We love going out to breakfast, so what better way to celebrate the opening morning than going out to breakfast at a place all our own. "Good morning!" calls Mom, emerging from the kitchen with stains already on her apron. Maggie and I run to her to give her a hug and she smiles, like always. Everything is just like I imagined it; Mom cooking, Dad raving about how wonderful it is and Maggie and I just hanging out in the dinn

CSSSA Application Assignment A by Cait-Ry, literature

Literature

CSSSA Application Assignment A

No writer becomes successful by herself. The solitary act of writing can only be perfected by the communal act of critique. Yet, unfortunately, few writers have the opportunity to form that community with their peers and benefit from the criticism we all desperately need. We learn what we can from the experts. A lesson in imagery comes from Robert Frost, in tone from Edgar Allen Poe and in simplicity from Emily Dickinson. However, each writer has her own style and her own approach. No two are the same. My love for writing free-form poetry can only be shaped so much by reading Shakespeare's sonnets, and my tragic stories cannot be forme

A Chat With Death by Cait-Ry, literature

Literature

A Chat With Death

The blinds in Robert Jeffery's hospital room glowed orange as the sun set behind them. Only the beeping of the EKG machine filled the silence, and even that was growing sparse. Jeffery knew that his time had come. He knew that he would die alone in a drab hospital room, picturing a tombstone reading "R. Jeffery 1961-2009". So, Jeffery was surprised when a strange man walked into his room on the evening of his death. The man was dressed like he had just stepped out of a court room and held the same calm expression on his face that the doctors had when they told Jeffery of his cancer. "What do you want?" demanded Jeffery. "I've just come

On the Poet Article by Cait-Ry, literature

Literature

On the Poet Article

I discovered the idea for this article through =namenotrequired's article However, the original idea came from ~MeineSehnsucht. On the Poet: =namenotrequired I have seen =namenotrequired throughout dA ever since I became an active member. However, it was only a few days ago that I stopped to read his work. I instantly regretted the time that I had spent only noticing his icon and envying his clever name without taking a look inside his gallery. As I started to look through his gallery, I noticed beautiful rhymes and clear rhythm throughout his work. I was instantly drawn in and wanted to read more. http://news.deviantart.com/article/1292

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The Owl by Cait-Ry, literature

Literature

The Owl

Family Photos by Cait-Ry, literature

Literature

Family Photos

The Hummingbird by Cait-Ry, literature

Literature

The Hummingbird

CSSSA Application Assignment E by Cait-Ry, literature

CSSSA Application Assignment D by Cait-Ry, literature

Literature

CSSSA Application Assignment D

CSSSA Application Assignment C by Cait-Ry, literature

Literature

CSSSA Application Assignment C

CSSSA Application Assignment B by Cait-Ry, literature

Literature

CSSSA Application Assignment B

CSSSA Application Assignment A by Cait-Ry, literature

Literature

CSSSA Application Assignment A

A Chat With Death by Cait-Ry, literature

Literature

A Chat With Death

The blinds in Robert Jeffery's hospital room glowed orange as the sun set behind them. Only the beeping of the EKG machine filled the silence, and even that was growing sparse. Jeffery knew that his time had come. He knew that he would die alone in a drab hospital room, picturing a tombstone reading "R. Jeffery 1961-2009". So, Jeffery was surprised when a strange man walked into his room on the evening of his death. The man was dressed like he had just stepped out of a court room and held the same calm expression on his face that the doctors had when they told Jeffery of his cancer. "What do you want?" demanded Jeffery. "I've just come

On the Poet Article by Cait-Ry, literature

Literature

On the Poet Article

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Tidal by pot-kettle, literature

The Father and the Flock by An-Old-Grimoire, literature

Literature

The Father and the Flock

The Father and the Flock The bearded Father uttered to the waiting Earth: "Today you follow me unto a new, fresh world! Leave the bad behind and you'll ascend to mirth All your troubles – broken - and happiness unfurled" And followed him, did most, like honest sheep Followed, for their minds were long asleep So the bearded Father smiled unto his stock "Give them salt and to honey they shall flock" Yet there were those that stayed in this forsaken land There were those untrusting of a helping hand And so they watched as livestock herded are A sight to sigh upon, disturbing and bizarre So more sheep are bred, from this great h

Freedom by Tricia-Danby, literature

Literature

Freedom

Freedom I feel, deep down inside Freedom is when I don't need to hide ... Hide my emotions, my longings, my love Freedom this is my white winged dove. So when I feel blue and hollow inside, I pack my bag to search a place where I can hide ... A place of whispering - so silent and so serene A place where freedom lies deeply within. I walk down the road of loneliness, feeling my heart beating full of bliss A bliss that sums up all my emotions an' with a smile I reach the ocean of oceans. An Ocean so blue ... and so wide a place where no-one has to hide ... Hide your emotions, your longings, your love this is freedom – this i

I Saw Us Dying by King-of-Sweden117, literature

Literature

I Saw Us Dying

I saw him drowning And I pretended to reach out I saw his light burn low And I pretended I was lost God dreams that He is loved And we dream that we love Him The sea cares naught for dreams And in it, I saw him drowning I saw her burning And I pretended that I cried I saw her eyes glaze over And I pretended that I cared Earth dreams that she is loved And we dream that we love her The fire doesn't care for dreams And in it, I saw her burning I saw them dying And I pretended that it mattered I watched them breathe their last And pretended my heart bled We dream that they love us And they dream we love them But we don't car

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About Cait-Ry

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Artist

June 2, 1995
United States
Deviant for 15 years
She / Her

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My Bio

Favourite genre of music: Alternate/Classic Rock
Favourite style of art: Realism and Surealism
MP3 player of choice: Ipod

Favourite Movies

Howl's Moving Castle

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Eels

Favourite Writers

William Shakesphere and J. K. Rowling

Favourite Gaming Platform

wii

Tools of the Trade

Keyboard or a pen (pens are more fun!)

Posts

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Cait-Ry

Sep 16, 2010

On the Poet: =namenotrequired

0 min read

I discovered the idea for this article through =namenotrequireds article http://news.deviantart.com/article/129100/.  However, the original idea came from ~MeineSehnsucht.  Check out his journal http://meinesehnsucht.deviantart.com/journal/33878422/ On the Poet: =namenotrequired I have seen =namenotrequired throughout dA ever since I became an active member.  However, it was only a few days ago that I stopped to read his work.  I instantly regretted the time that I had spent only noticing his icon and envying his clever name without taking a look inside his gallery. As I started to look through his gallery, I noticed beautiful rhymes

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Cait-Ry

Aug 23, 2010

I'm Back

0 min read

I have returned from camp.  It was amazing- 'nuff said.   I already want to go back and hang out with all the awesome people I met and enjoy the beauty of it.  There is no where else in the world where you can truly be yourself and be loved by everyone for it. My life would not be the same without that place. In further news, I would like to thank the people at The Writer's Review for selecting one of my pieces as a finalist for the Blue Poetry Slam.  I am so excited and honored. Enjoy the last bit of your summers.

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Cait-Ry

Aug 15, 2010

Gone

0 min read

Tomorrow morning I will be on a boat on my way to camp.  So, for anyone who cares, I will have no connection to the internet for a week.  See you all when I get back. :)