50% off for a limited time!

Get Core

Theme

Display Mature Content

Suppress AI Content

Get Help and Send Feedback

happymo on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/happymo/art/Never-Out-of-Reach-169247796happymo

Deviation Actions

More by happymo

happymo on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/happymo/art/NW-VDay-Event12-The-Milky-Way-197371134happymo

happymo on DeviantArthttp://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/https://www.deviantart.com/happymo/art/Can-you-beleive-2-74313927happymo

happymo on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/happymo/art/Dear-Diary-I-went-to-Canada-175892643happymo

happymo on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/happymo/art/Blood-and-te-wait-89607422happymo

Suggested Deviants

b1gfan

Literature

Leaving Out

Leaving Out late afternoon alive in the richness of mint and tea there is no sound above detail on the skin

Literature

My Other Name

My Other Name Sometimes it is to set out forks beside each plate, or folding shirts first, dryer hot in the A.M. half-dark. Less often, thirsty from cutting trees back away from the roof edge, gutters clean. Today, the dishes of breakfast clean, draining, I angle each blind against the sun, sit then in the small cool room, feet flat upon the morning

Literature

Apologia

Apologia It may be I’m not much for frail mushroom caps rushed to life by the damp shade of an Ohio vale, or the scent of fresh cut lilies wilting in a study made splendid by open books and notes to self, but I know as well as anyone what darkness rain will lend the bark of trees in a storm, and the scent of wildfires drifting though June aglide a carpet of salted air.

Sora-Seraph

Literature

little boy in a broken world

little boy, one day you will unstitch yourself from that outgrown shadow and find that your hands are no longer too small to grasp at the clouds. my love, one day you will spread your new-fledged wings and fly away from me into the arms of your lover but sweet, i won't mind - i wish you sunbeam smiles and butterfly kisses and hope that your name is now your own. i hope that you fit like a jigsaw into the curve of his arms, love, and that when you come together you bring the broken world with you.

Literature

Sycophant

I like to think that if I tore my dress and mussed my hair and rubbed your anger like rouge across my cheeks, you'd notice. I like to hope that bending over backwards isn't the only trick you'll ask of me; that jumping through hoops ringed in fire is a feat to be applauded, not expected. But the truth is that you are so much better at spite than hate - you're like me in that sense - and if I penned your eulogy across my skin you'd tell me that I'd never get a job with a tattoo that ugly. The truth is that you could color me like a sunrise with that slap across the face, and I would only turn the other cheek and tell you, "A little too mu

Literature

One-Word Supernova

This "hello" is infinity unraveling, a star falling, a sun coming to life. It's movement. It's a breath drawn between two surprised lips. It's staccato, the quick crackle of a match catching on sandpaper. Flight has nothing on those lush syllables - they soar higher than the playground of angels and we cannot help but follow. Sunstruck, lightbright, the word glimmers between us - clear and iridescent, a soap bubble caught in the air. I reach. You touch. And - a star falling, a sun coming to life - hope bursts open inside our slumbering hearts. "Hello," you said. The word rests breathlessly along the curve of my

counting-vertebrae

Literature

genome

i took my tuberculosis pills, assembled my blue body to dis- so ci ate & i, the manic-depressive, the melancholic; i cracked the metacarpals, spat in river styx just the way humani(ties) me to the fractured knee cap, the underexposure, the mercury thermometer

Literature

badlands and bleached teeth

your body is no temple, boy; it's a wasteland. you are the warring nation - you're the wishbone weaponry, hunger as the ammunition.

Literature

consecrate

i purify, contrive cathedrals from arsenal-bodies. i am the cure for apathy, your (dis)enchantment in emaciation white; i trade in paper weights for blessed blue fingers. don't you know starvation is a virtue - all the saints did it, too.

Suggested Collections

Poetry

MysticSparkleWings on DeviantArthttp://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/https://www.deviantart.com/mysticsparklewings/art/Day-1-of-365-613953421MysticSparkleWings

Literature

most of us go quietly

with birth we are 'opened' - death we are 'shut' we cooperate - generally live 'flowingly' - but some exist to be fondly recalled - we suppose others are purposely popular - in nice clothes unless one invents 'the better mousetrap' receives The Nobel or whatever nice crap is amazingly famous - or infamous-ly known our one parting shot will be on our gravestone beneath it - we'll molder away for a while after keeping this mindful thru-out our last mile: the cosmic and random had brought us thus far we were never the focus - truly - never the star llp - dA - mar2022

Literature

poetry: spring of dreams

unfettered lies liaisons of beings fear of the truth my crystal tears maiden in white tufts of dandelions no fury, no agony close your eyes symphony of purity kaleidoscope of peace breeze embalming the body sweet, sweet dreams when I die play this song and think of me as I dance at the spring of dreams

poetry and writing

Literature

sunday

I went to the church to put a little bit of god in me, but god was greedy today. my mortal mind felt it. trees canted down to say hello in their winter-grieved way, on the way home. a hundred little fingers asking for a chance that wasn’t mine to give. they shook with the roar. I guzzled down every liquid in the kitchen to soothe the red of my esophagus, but it only led to milk and rum and wine and half a carton of chicken broth rolling around in my innards, an angry soup. a galaxy of poison. the fever didn't go away. it looked like half- baked art in the toilet bowl. I had to unclog it.

Literature

a quiet ending

he comes quietly scythe eternally in hand afterlife awaits

Literature

Harvest

Autumn is a controlled wildfire: nature selectively burning its excess, preparing to conserve energy for the cold and create room for the birth of spring.

Literature

yuumei on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/yuumei/art/Knite-Chapter-1-151132545yuumei

Literature

the lion's tooth grave of prague

The sidewalk is dyed green again with dandelion blood: white wispy limbs litter the cobblestone alongside the scars of bony stems. I am not a witness, only a passerby. I stand in awe but not in sorrow of the departed dandelions, their souls crushed under street mower hell. I pull a survivor from the grass and breathe to strip it of its flesh so that its wish is granted: to not be left alone.

Literature

Blinking

Red bell-shaped blossoms An emerald hummingbird Gone at second glance

Never Out of Reach

happymo

Published: Jun 28, 2010

219 Views

Description

I've been working on this pretty straight forward sense Seven o clock yesterday, only really taking a break to eat and sleep. But even sleep was very... little. I stayed up still three AM working on this, tried to goto bed.... but that didn't work very well. XD Then I woke up and went home at ten and worked on it untill from about twelve untill... five? Then I just finished the touchups.
Someone do that math for me. 9.... 14...? idk... probably aorund that many hours sketching and cleaning and linearting and coloring.
The coloring is not really that good either.

Well Enjoy Miku Hatsune. Vocoloid... and not hair tenticle monster. XD
The Traditional before it was cleaned up and edited:
[link]

The LineArt if anyone else wants to color it:
[link]
Just note me with the finished product and credit me.
miku hatsune (c) her creators
picture (c) me Courtney JoAnne Phone Aphobia Happymo

Image size

1700x2338px 829.03 KB