About Me

Slink into the depths of my soul...

Drink deeply of my essence.... Read on....

Welcome to the new incarnation of my poetry and writings page. As I have the time, you will find more and more of my writing here. Most of it is old, as writer's block has hit, but please enjoy them anyway. For now, I will list them on one page. Perhaps when I have the time, I will give them each their own page. Again, enjoy.

All writings Copyright Deanna Jean Briggs
All rights reserved by the above author

(Written 10/21/2004 in response to all the dark, angsty poetry on a board I write on.)

With every rain,
Grey and dark with gloom,
There is also dazzling beauty.
In the sparkle of the falling raindrops,
The music of the water,
Drumming on the leaves and rooftops,
Chiming in pools and puddles.
There is also hope,
In the water's healing,
And giving of life,
The smell of fresh earth.
All is washed clean,
And gently renewed.

With every storm,
Fierce, ravaging, and chaotic,
There is also beauty in that savage power,
In the flash of lightning,
And throaty purr of thunder,
The dance of the trees
And swirling fallen leaves.
There is also hope,
In the freshness of the air,
And even in the deadfall,
Cracked branches, and uprooted trees.
Where it was once dark,
There is light and life,
And room for new, stronger growth.

With every night,
Dark, silent, and solitary,
There is also quiet beauty,
In the sparkle of the stars,
In the hush upon the earth,
The muted colors, silver, black, and grey.
There is also hope,
In the quiet contemplation, peace.
In the soft light of dawn,
As it brings with it warmth and safety,
And the beginnings of a new day.

With every Night, there is the promise of Day,
With every Storm, there is the chance to Rebuild,
With every Rain, there is the promise of Renewal.

Open your eyes, Dear One.
Truly look at your Night,
Your Storms,
Your Rain,
Look past the pain,
Find the promise and hope,
Realize the balance that truly is,
And find Life.

In the Garden
(Contrast poetry, perhaps my favorite to write.. Written 9/22/2004)

Sun-drenched and sparkling,
A rainbow riot of color,
Soft petals, sharp green leaves,
A sweet, varied perfume,
Carried on the wind
The bright golden disk above,
Bathes all below in warmth and life,
People pass by, smile and wave,
A hive of activity and motion,
Birds and insects join voices together,
Trilling flutes and droning pipes,
A lovesong for the sun.


Moon-kissed and shadowed,
Color lost to hues of black and grey,
Curled buds, leaves furled,
A soft musky scent,
Sharpened by the cool breeze,
The soft silver orb above,
Spills down cool silver full of energy,
The road is empty and quiet,
All is solitude and peace,
The wolf lifts its voice,
Long and low, against the whisper of leaves,
A hymn to the moon.

Written for my husband, the day we were married. Dec, 1, 2000.

This day, I take your soul to mine, in an embrace to last eternity.
The seperate parts to one soul finaly joining, at last becoming whole.
Forever, I give you my heart, with no reservations, and I accept yours to cherish as my own.
For all time we shall walk this path together, bound by the truest, undying love,
Side by side, hand in hand, ready to catch the other should they fall, sharing in each other's joy,
Sharing all the fruits, bitter and sweet, of an eternity together.

This day, and for every one to follow, I will hold you in a love more boundless than any ocean,
More pure than fresh fallen snow. I will love you, protect you, and cherish you, with every fiber of my being,
From this day forward, we will never again know lonliness, or pain without the comfort of a lover's touch.
We are bound hand in hand, heart to heart, souls as one, in truest love, and perfect trust, until the end of time...



The transformation is about to begin
The spirit of the wolf calls me into the night
As the pounding rain washes me of sin

Lightning cuts through the mists so thin
Flooding the ancient wood in dark, bathing it in light
The transformation is about to begin

A wise, ageless wolf appears before me, my soul's twin
I kneel in silent reverence, prepared for my rite
As the pounding rain washes me of sin

Into the depths of its eyes I gaze, a thousand times over seeing my kin
My soul is quieted and it takes to flight
The transformation is about the begin

My mind is placid and cool, a soft thrumming deep within
My body is loose, ready for the rush so bright
As the pounding rain washes me of sin

The air crackles with sweet energy, knowledge readily invited in
My soul relives the ages, back before industry, science, the knight
The transformation is about to begin
As the pounding rain washes me of sin


The transformation has begun
I feel the wolf, my Kasha drawing near
With all things I am becoming one

I feel the truth, never shall I run
The veil slowly lifts, all is coming clear
The transformation has begun

Pounding rain washes over me, thick clouds hide the sun
Yet trust I have, I feel no fear
With all things I am becoming one

The weight of this physical plane lifted from me, ton by ton
Light spins around and within me, a pure and perfect sphere
The transformation has begun

A new consciousness enters me, like a silver bullet from an ebony gun
Putting at bay the new ways, and bringing back the old so dear
With all things I now feel as one
The transformation has begun


Behold, the dancing flame! My soul is warmed
I throw my hands and face up to greet the sky
Gentle my Poet chants. I am transformed

Bright One, Your light flows around me, my mind swarmed
You lift up my pains, away on the wings of the phoenix they fly
Behold, the purifying flame! My soul is warmed

Sweet Mother, Your restoring waters over me stormed
My soul, body,and mind are made whole, with joy I cry
Gentle my Healer caresses. I am transformed

Great One, Your hammer a new life has formed
Mettle shaped in your name, into your service I go with a contented sigh
Behold, the Forge's flame! My soul is warmed

Sparkling Muse, Your inspiration into my swirling mind wormed
Your flame feeds a myriad of thoughts, burning high
Gentle my Inspiration burns, I am transformed

Wise Wolf and Gentle Lady guide my soul, now re-formed
Kasha in my mind and Brighid in my heart until eternity passes by
Behold, the dancing flame! My soul is warmed
Strongly my soul sings, "I am transformed!"

My pride and joy.. first (and last) attempt at a villanelle.. Spanned about a year before I finished it..
As was appropriate for my life at the time..

The first and only song I managed to actually start and finish.. I have a midi for it.. sort of, it's coming

I hear the warrior's song, The drumbeat pounds my chest,
I feel the warrior strong, The strength of ages within my breast.

Across the fields of earth, and rolling hills of green,
The crack of whip can be heard, tongues of flame can be seen,
And down in the midst of all, eyes and soul aflame
Stands The Morrigan brave and tall, joyous in the game.


Coursing through the earth, the blood spilled from her sword,
Slashing through their girth, Her enemies fall in hordes,
And down through a mottled sky, swoops an ebony bird,
And to her shoulder it does fly, without a word.


And in he power full, at the time of her moon,
The horses strain and pull, the bravest men fall and swoon,
And down at her feet they kneel, and for her pity beg,
With merciful heart she does consent to pause three days.


Through miles of smoke and blood, beats a resounding drum,
Through the souls of men, Course a sympathetic thrum,

For her soldiers true, their strength it doth repair,
The hearts of her foes, it doth crack, out of fear.


There are those fierce of heart, and strong of soul,
Those weak with fear, hatred taking its toll,
Those Morrigan takes at her side are brave, pure, and true,
Assured many battles won, and pains are few.


As the battle clears, and blood and gore soak the ground,
She sheds three tears, for fallen comrades round,
And then with triumph shouts, for her battle's been won,
Another page for fickle fate, again the wheel's spun.


Above the joyful cries, a proud call is heard,
Turning up their eyes, heavenward they see a bird,
Looping overhead, the giant raven flies,
It be known The Morrigan there by the fire in its eyes..


This one written sort of as a call to battle for pennsic

Go ye heroes, go to glory
Kiss your wives and head out
Through the city and about
Trudge through nature cold and hoary

Sound the trumpets, pound the drums
March in the archers, roll in the carts
Let the trill of your pipe strike fear into their hearts
Let it be known it is ye who will conquer, ye who comes

Fight with the pride and courage of a lion
With the strength and bezerker of a bear
Yet look upon the innocent with the gentleness of a mare
Show the enemy hearts of iron

Come ye heroes, Come back in glory
Com back with thy shield, or upon it
Marching in, proud, bright torches lit
Bring us victory, let us bard your story.

(written as a writing prompt for honors english class)

Sitting straight,
Picture perfect
Chemical black hair
all in place
Wrinkle cream slathered
Gaudy baubles
Tourniquet smile
Overcast by striken eyes
The price of pride and riches
Shuffling about
Age-greyed hair
Smile lines and crows feet
Accentuating summer-sky-blue eyes
Warm sunshine smiles
The smell of cookies
And baby powder
Her perfume
The reward for life's
Trials and tribulations

More contrast poetry......

A soft spring breeze
Dips its fingers
Into a cool clear lake
Gently helps the sun
Push away the morning mist
Bringing in clouds
Fat with rain
Caressing the songbird's feathers
With a motherly kiss...
An icy winter gale
Clutches the frigid lake
In its venomous talons
Tears apart the clouds
Making them bleed
A heavy storm upon the earth
The trees crack under the gale
And bow low
To the timely reaper.


And the light fades
Cold as ice is the blade
Soft is her hazel flesh into which it goes
Cruel and quick are the cuts from which sticky blood flows
A lover sighs, running his hand over her cool, carved skin
Delight fills his eyes as the binding scars of their love sink in
She runs her hands up softly to meet his, thinking of their life to be,
Another notch, another sigil, on the Lover's Tree..


Slowly Down
Drifting Softly
Wafting Obsidian
Oscillating Widely
Rhythmicly Circling
Coming to Rest
Stark Contrast
Chalked Slate
Shadowed Purity
Perfection Sinned
Simply Ravishing
Raven on Snow

An OLD Untitled... Written circa... 96 I think..

Sunset gardens
Starlight seas
Intice and delight the strange little children
I remember these children and smile
While sailing on my ocean of dispair
The water threatens to wash my memories away
They float out with all the other unclaimed memories
They float away serenely to a place with no name
With them I go, my mind fading away
The lone tree on the hill mocking me
With the darkness comes insanity
The razorblades of society rip and tear my life
Into the void of lost dreams and desires
There I reside, my hopes shattered
My will withering in brown lament
Lost for words, Damaged, Battered
In the stinking cell of my dying mind
I choke on the fumes of a thousand thoughts
They cloud my mind in a psychadellic haze
They take over my conciousness
They tell me what to do, control my mind and body
They turn me into a machine of their will
They torture me in ways unimagined
They taunt me in ways only I could understand
Until I finally break
I crawl away into the shadows and slowly fade
I become a forgotten voice
A forgotten dream
A forgotten life

Response to a writing prompt circa 99 "an eerie reflection" was the prompt

I look in the mirror, but it's not my face I see
An eerie reflection stares coldly back at me
A troubled darkness hides behind my eyes
More cloudy and black than the most portentous of skies
I reach up a pale hand and trace the lines of invisible tears
Those only I can see, remainders of past pain, anger and fears
I purse my lips, bloody and bruised
Sore from being bitten, holding my tongue from being used
I sigh and wipe a tear, the veil falling back into place
Happiness, humor, warmth, and softness mask my battered face.


Time steals pages from our memories
Doing as it wishes with our treasures
Mounting some, framing and hanging them gloriously
Upon our souls for all to see
Burning others, using them as fuel for our hearts
Some burning hot and furious, leaving black ashes in their wake
Others cracking along cheerily, a warm, comforting eternal flame
Some are dropped, discarded to the floors of our minds
Like many-year-old leatters from a friend
Only to find its way mysteriously back into our hands
When we most need it
Some are rolled up, sealed in wax with Time's seal
Never to be broken and looked upon in this life
Those little things, a stranger's smile, a gentle breeze, Colors that always seem to fade when you try to see them in your mind,
Some momumental ones as well, being in the womb, first learning language, first knowing and experiencing a mother and father's love...
All locked away, some forgotten and never thought of
Others searched for, but always out of our grasp
Perhaps until Time turns again. Until the hereafter... Or perhaps until life begins anew..

A Few Poems.. Written for a sophomore honors english poetry portfolio.

(a companion poem to my friend Amanda's poem: Rose)

Dandelion, wild, gaudy, tousled,
Nature;s rogue fills every land,
He grows in swaying carpets of yellow,
Short and stocky, he tosses his head defiantly.

He brings color and character to the wild meadow,
But is a plague to Madam's stuffy garden,
And plaited into the sweet maiden's hair,
He accompanies her on her Midsummer's eve.

Blazing petals flare proudly,
A warrior, yet paradoxical,
The strong has a delicate side,
Soft, white, fluff, dispersed by even a gentle breeze.

Mundane, yet complex in his everyday beauty,
Nature's hearty survivor,
Even in his last days a lion, though he looks a powder puff,
sending forth battalions on delicate chutes, into the world.


Great Mother speaks, a whisper even to an attentive ear. Great patience is given, a give to some, so that we may be more apt to listen.
"Listen well my sweet childe, for I shall tell you the secrets of the ocean, the stone, the forest, and the river wilde. Let your heart be open to the intricate rhythm songs all around you. Sing your soul, sweet and silver, to the watching moon. Join the swan-song of the Earth, and transform it into the gentle coo of the dove...
"As our souls heal and return again, so shall your gentle Mother's. Now go. Wrap the earth and all its creatures in the soft mantle of our song."


Dark clouds march in,
Artificial night covers the quiet valley,
Twilight falls as the signal is given,
The deafening roll of the drums and first clash of the sword, call to arms,
The war of the thunder gods.


Pass into Storms and white water
Fly into tempests and gales
Swim deep into swirling dreams
Give way to the crashing waves
Drown in seas of emotion
Passion is an ocean.

Destiny of a Poet

Eyes flitting across
Mouthwatering phrases
Drinking ever so deep
Of a soul
Sold to paper and ink
With a rhyme
A colourful phrase
Dark brooding verse
A piece entombed
Forever in the heart
Of the beholder
Immortality found
On the wings of silvery words
Eternaly loved
Entirely scorned
The destiny of a poet.


hand-painted smiles
adorning perfect porcelin faces
a dark secret
hidden beneath
brown paper flesh
superficially unflawed
unflawed superficiality