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ChangeIs it better to let the world change you
Or better to change for the world
And to change the world
What of this
LullabyChaos leads to certain misery
Structure leaves you with a soulless body
You can entertain the thought of balance
And wish yourself good luck
Well good luck
I hear a new valley call to me
But I can't know where from
Until I cross this mountain
And enter the sirens mouth
Be kind to me lullaby
Of a life so short
But precious and absolute
FlashIn a flash, the violent sudden clasp of thunder, years disintegrate underneath my feet.
A blue glow fades, once warm and comforting, exposing reality and all its weight on my bones.
As they crush down and wear away at my aging joints, While my guitar arm swings and grows heavier with time.
And old memories, phantoms that clasp at my face
Cold rattles my bones as their fingers pass through my soul
Because the past is no longer real
it is gone
And you with it
When time stands stillWhen time stands still
and it does when you are away
when the beautiful grace of your face and presence
is no longer here
that i am no longer
Soul Mates Eternal RockWhen the woods call for divine introspection within oneself
You had better heed the warning call to spirit work
Without the need of motivation from any other
Soul mates can be damaged and torn apart
and it will all be over before the fall of night
will forever be associated with the fall of a love so true
truths in nature will seem preposterous
even if you did start to dream again
and rose with eyes finally re awoken
it will be to late to bring back your soul
to the love that did not want you to give her the world
to the love that just wanted to live in a world that already existed
when soul mates met destiny and collided
the beginning of a universe with a name not unlike love
that inspired children to become men and woman poets
and forget to think about insecurities of lacking experience in poetry
love does what it does
after that it is in your hands
then it only matters what we do with love
hear my warning
so that I might spare you the pain
don't ever be weak because you have always
Give LoveI still fear everything
caught in the seams
still fear everything life has to bring
that death's just a dream
that I'm a lost child
when it's been
so very long
and I still haven't come
to a place where I am
at peace with all around
all that surrounds
so, so very long
and still so wrong
so lost after all of time
instilled in fear
If love is the light
then why does life go on
so vacant and troubling
starved at the mouth
If love is right
then why does life go on
completely devoid of
stopped at the heart
and a child
without love you aren't one
without love you are none
If you give love
then you will become
the cause and the one
mirror of the sun
when you give love
of Onewith the flight of a deviled beast
i dove shoulder driven into beautiful fields of tulip
it would be a disastrous affair if you were not to have been there
and the spells that you put on
all the lucky things that you touch and unto me
bringing the jealousy in others to boil with warmth of our happiness
at the breath of such idealized incantations
from you to the heart of us won't go unscoffed
by the few critical trying to raze our garden with hysterics passe
and the scent that you leave
on the the things that you brush
against content shoulders, blessed bedding, all while lovely and flush
in fields of bloom i rest where i be
best with my tulip though turn will she
and I'll hold on to no thing or regret as my beloved will wilt with time
just love as it grows
and life as it will go
and i with it to the soil
into the soft
all the while with love
as it can only be
Modality-october 5 12 honesty in poetry-
-i can not even read this one-
-i didn't realize how it could-
-be applied to all i didn't-
-see about myself into what-
-happened to me-
the adverse happenings that I may or may not conceive
I still give birth to
while being partial and impartial to the one I love
contradicting the benevolence that I proclaim for her
Oh how I wish
I would no longer suffer
the pangs of a modal metaphoric winter any longer
inside of a heavy and heaving frost bitten mind
it turns too loosely
at any whim or
any single adverse thought
and i draw it
to a qualm
with every thought
i loose it
i loose you
does this mean that I forfeit love?
do I forfeit my love?
by a default through faulty action?
please tell me
say it could never be so
that it's all modality
just passionate moods swung
to a situation I didn't sow
and for the matter could never control
much like myself now
How to love a girl who can't love herself.one.
When she cries herself to sleep
six out of seven nights a week you must
say nothing. You must simply take
her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,
pale cheeks and wait for her to
slumber at the sound of your heart.
On the days where she wishes she
were part of the stars, tell her
no. Tell her that there are too many
lights in the sky and that just one
would be forgotten the moment you looked
away from it. Tell her that she is perfect
the way she is: completely human.
Don't let her think about the scars
that no one but her can see. If she
says "I think I'm broken" smile like you
know a secret and say, "No, you're mending."
But do not be the one to fix her - no, she
Skin.I love the way life leaves its mark on our bodies.
Every laugh and smile etched in the crinkles around your eyes and mouth;
Those tan-lines the time you forgot about sunscreen
Because you were so hell-bent on reaching that mountain peak
Or when you just became lost in the gentle lap of waves at the shore;
The scars you got skateboarding in the park at summer dusk
Or when life became pain and it was your only release.
Our bodies are a record of our memories and experiences
They are our travel journals and emotional diaries
Our delicate armour to the elements.
And no matter its colour, its stature, if it's not quite intact
If you sometimes think it takes up too much space, or if it has pointy corners
Your body is the vessel for your soul, and every wonderful facet of who you are
Sparkles from the surface of your skin.
Skin that may grow to be wrinkled, tanned, scarred, well lived-in
Although not always embraced by you the way that others embrace it.
Take the time to explore the s
The human condition of wanting to be everythingI feel as though I am exhausting
The excess skin around
in loose shadows
Across my cheekbones like
And whilst I find myself
To draw open the blinds
Because the light
is too bright
And I really can’t handle
The pane of the sky
With its obnoxious
glaring at me
With such a joyful expression
I know that lately
I am burning myself out
That I consume one too many
Cans of soda and energy drinks
At 2.45 AM
When the rest of the world
Is static in a hushed
Whilst I frantically try
To achieve something
Is too much
Or rather too
An existence for me
So I will continue
In order to
Try and destroy myself
Enough so that
I can be w h o l e
The scarsLife hurts us
It causes us to bleed
Time can heal the wounds
And stop the pain
But the scars remain
For the rest of our lives....
things i don't rememberi.
what you sounded like
as my ears were forming
what dreams or secrets
you confided in me
what pressures sunk
your proud shoulders
or the first time
i caused you
where i was when i decided
that your footsteps
should be followed
that your ideals
should be made my own
on my body
as i learned the world's ways
do not align
with our hopes
when i first
how my feet dangled
every time i wasn't strong enough and
how you made the world
how you were
figuring it all out
thought that life
To the BeautifulYou say we're beautiful,
Us who have been bullied...
But where were you while it was happening?
-I was watching-
You who say "This has to stop!",
There needs to be an end to this...
What are you doing to stop it?
-I did nothing-
It's too late now...
-I failed you-
LuckyYou talk like you always have a grain of salt,
to throw over your shoulder.
Every word is that hard cheese,
and they swing those whimsical wishbones much like carousels.
You're wasted on your self-image,
staggering down with rigorousness you don't own.
They're taking that steed and throwing horseshoes,
as if one of them might ring 'round your neck;
and save you from yourself.
You'll need a necropolis filled with pennies to barter,
and we won't lend a cent to save your sorry soul.
Your demons count clovers to kiss you,
gluing that fourth leaf to camouflage the truth.
They'd promise you an elephant to watch you die,
sucking sevens to keep you from entering Heaven.
And you can sing your superstitions into space,
but it's dead and empty.
Somewhat like the hollow shell you lounge in,
as the charms make you see spirits.
You say somewhere there's a rabbit dying to give its foot in your favor...
...but don't bet on it unless you can see that whites of its eyes.
VYou've waded through the worst,
child, so dry your eyes,
they've got better things to do
than drain the sea.
tie a ribbon 'round your wrist
lest you forget
it's only in the sun
that the shadows don't shine,
and if you say
please and thank you
the dawn will come swift enough.
(to knock you off your sodden little feet)
SeasonI'm lost and out of fashion
Out of season too
I was busy waiting for autumn
And by spring I was still wearing blue
Now i sit here in the corner
Examine nuances I used to ignore
On a Ship thats only commissioned to sail
During into darkness of Great War
with time the river smooths all the rough and frees
Away the jagged edge of tragedy
alone we traverse fields of the unknown
in this unsound world
With unsung heroes
And heroes that no longer sing
Despite the sun that lights the way
I know the snow hastily approaches and
these lively plains won't last
The damage from the quakes of great pain
Aging reflections unseen
This mirror shows the container of a soul
afraid to grow into their dreams
One great storm leads to seasons
Of great peace and natures green
Still how can anyone live life like this
Blue Eyes in FlamesWhen the prince sees the flower bloom from the palm of her hand, he orders her arrest.
She is only seven years old.
He takes the flower from her and keeps it, even though he knows he shouldn't. He puts it a vase, or, rather, his servant does that for him. The flower doesn't ever die, even years later.
It's dawn of a December morning, and he's cold. But still, he stands next to his father dutifully and looks at the little girl with blue eyes that are now black from seven nights sleeping on a cold, dungeon floor behind bars. They cut off her dark brown hair during that time. She's tied to the pyre, and there are seven guards around her, holding sharper swords than normal, not that she could get away. There's one man dressed in black holding an unlit torch, with a mask over his face to prevent his death. His father raises his arm, and the torch is lit.
She locks her gaze to his, and he blinks at her. It's like she expects him to prevent it. He couldn't, though, he can't. She scares him, w
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More