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Spring Has ArrivedThe way he smiles, it's
So bright and dazzling that my
Cold icy diamond heart begins
Thawing, faintly beating like
Fingers tap dancing on a surface.
God help me, I'm starting to...
Treading WaterI'm trapped, drowning in
A sea of information that I
Cannot comprehend just yet.
The rocks are slippery to
Grasp tightly; each time I
Flail out an arm, a cry leaves
My mouth as I'm tossed aside.
What am I to do? Any minute now
The invisible force will crush
Down with relentless force; I shall
Die with a blue icy face - suffocation
Is one of the worst ways to
Perish, especially when I'm
Learning how to tread water...
Creative IntercourseI wish to be one of the greatest;
Always have believed I could achieve
Conception; many nights I find myself
Gazing up at the moon, praying to some
Creative God to lend me some strength.
I allow my mind to rest before
Copulation - the blessed union of
Inspiration and ideas hold true
To every budding writer everywhere;
Weave the magic, let it flow naturally.
The inevitable dance, although not easy
At first, will begin with a first step.
Yang, the fierce male spirit, does
Everything in his power to claim Yang,
Cajoling to mould her gentle softness.
Once their mating spawns tiny seeds,
They feed me such incredible power.
Energy surges through my brain, combined
With an unstoppable impulse to grab
A trusty pen and start writing away.
Cracks On The WallI bounce my ball
Against the wall; the way
It smacks the surface is
Just another reminder that
The clogs in my head are
Groaning when they turn.
Lord knows that I'm trying
So hard to keep this up;
Any time now cracks will
Start to show, each one marks
The shedding of an idea...
But I wonder how much longer?
Realm Of SpeechI can't command my words,
They are not mine to control.
I say them, but sometimes they
Merely are of unknown origin.
If I wish to be truthful, I
Shall fall upon my knees, not
Caring of who I've wronged;
Oaths of loyalty I do proclaim.
If an attractive man catches my
Lustful gaze, I will set his skin
Alight with seductive murmurs,
Explicit in my suggestions and deeds.
I'm not a mistress of words, far
From it, and yet my understanding
Widens like a gap in a wall; some
Situations call for vocalisation.
Hunger For ReadingWould it come as a surprise
That I devour books easily like
The chocolate you find so damn
Irresistible? Fresh taste is
All I ever asked for, all I
Ever wanted - I'm an eager
Connoisseur in the making.
I browse with hungry eyes;
It's like I'm at an all you
Can buffet, unsure of what
To get - my expectations so
High that I can rival anyone.
Maybe my thirst is not easy,
Perhaps it's so unquenchable
That it cannot be satisfied.
Daily RountineIt feels like a slap to
My face now that I've been a
Participant in this game for
One week and a mere two days.
Although it strikes me off-guard
Just a little, there is no sting
Behind the blow that's been dealt
To me; all I feel is giddiness.
I write, I read, I watch -
Everyday this same old routine's
Put on rinse and repeat, and it
Guards my sanity at all times.
To live without these concepts
That shape my path, my azure eyes
Brimming with passion would
Surely fade into surly grey.
Personal DilemmaReality is a strict mistress,
Something that snares me by
The throat with its nimble claws;
I have to attend to her needs,
If I dare turn my back, then with
A click of her fingers the ground
Shall heave and pulsate in tension.
For the past week or so, it
Seems I've been indulging in such
Selfish needs, unaware of those
Who beckon me forth for reasons.
I try to cater to their needs, but
Finding a balance, one that is
Perfect and able, is simply hard.
Each time I visit I feel the weight
Of messages bearing down on me, a
Topple is all it takes to realise
My situation; I'm drowning in a sea
Of notes and comments, everywhere I
Look is rising mountains to the sky.
By the minute I endlessly slip under.
How on earth am I able to reach
Solid ground? A conflict wars on
Within me - my loyalty ,as fierce as
It is, entices me to seek self
Discovery, whereas my heart pleads
To reach out, to be more active.
How can I initiate a compromise?
From A Scorpion To An EagleI never believed in
Transformation of the soul
According to astrology.
I was born under the sign of
Scorpio; the most misunderstood,
Powerful out of the twelve.
For countless times I spat in
Peace's face, going to where
Pain resides with its temptation.
I created wars, I fought so many
Gruelling losing battles, trying
To secure my throne as an avenger.
Silky strands of webs dangling
From my outstretched hands, my
New found bait now strengthened.
Those who fell into my web I
enticed; friendships were forged
While some males become my lovers.
And yet despite my tenderness,
Some strands were becoming fragile
Which in turn becomes poisonous.
I surrendered to throes of strong
Emotions, not knowing those around me
Were pulled into the astral with me.
I have yet to not drink from the
Cup of instinct like a mere scorpion.
To transform into a wise old eagle
And soar into the sky is my desire.
My mind deals with
Overcomes my judgement
Today it's no different
I can't take it anymore
Observing my image but
Nothing is revealed
Before My Mouth Told You I Was Sickbefore my mouth told you i was sick, there were
the fingers that wrapped around cups and cups of tea.
i sipped oceans.
i sipped the seven seas
and my ribs were the rainstick that
sent shivers pattering like some
down your swaying, praying spine.
there were the hurricanes.
that is what you came to call them,
my eyes burst into lightning,
my chest quaked with thunder,
when my ribs heaved with the monsoon
that was my breath
until i collapsed, shaking, into your
beach house arms.
there were the missing beats.
sometimes my heart slowed, stopped,
staggered home drunk to gasp morse-code warnings
between my aching ribs.
sometimes the stillness was so perfect
(and alone so tempting)
that i wished for the beat
to wander far and
to be forever lost.
there were the ribs, and the collarbones.
i was a mountain range with
blood in my rivers,
you saw the carrot sticks
(oh god how could you)
and you let me feed myself with
there was the blood i was suppose
little victories.when i was younger,
i thought i was the strongest
little girl in the world
because i could easily
beat my older brother
at arm wrestling.
it wasn't until years later
that i realized
To the person who holds my best friend's heart...I know that is is kind of weird
But I felt that I should write this down.
I need to tell you what I feel
And tell you what he means to me.
He's my best friend and he's a good man.
Please, give him the love and respect he deserves.
He may seem goofy but he's very sweet.
I know this because he was always there for me when I was sad.
Now, I know that you're not bad
Cause he would never choose someone who's mean.
But I still want to tell you just in case you forget in the future;
Please don't break his heart.
He's been through so much
And he doesn't deserve something like that.
He is the kind of person who smiles even when he's hurt by others
And would take any pain for the people he loves.
I know, I've witnessed it.
I know he may seem kind of childish sometimes
But don't let it get to you.
It's just his way of expressing himself.
He's very caring and I'm sure he'll do anything to make you happy.
He doesn't look like it but he's very kind and thoughtful.
He'll put your needs before h
in which I gain sentiencesave room
for doubt, in the silence between
religious guilt and stolen
body heat. I am made of helium.
in my dreams they
pop me and
watch me flutter. I wonder if everyone
else’s head is so congested as mine,
hyperactive with inattentive people.
you are never serious--
he stares at me in a different
set of eyes; there are words
I cannot say, there are
things I cannot tell you.
(twice a week
I watch the people I love
leave me for good.
spiders in my throat,
you're wearing isadora's scarvesoh, i hope you never love me, satyr-girl.
misanthropic mistress, i am coughing up
crows & bleeding blue beneath pocked
vessels; these worn teeth may be ink-
cavities, but i have never been your poet boy.
I Saw a Burning ManIn front of my house, he sat.
Skin burnt off, now charred and black.
Hesitantly, I walked outside.
And he followed me with his watery eyes.
With steps as nimble as the snow,
I hid my fear and continued to go.
Now before him, the Burning Man.
I kindly offered him my shaky hand.
No malice nor vice leaked off of him,
rather sadness and agony which simmered below his skin.
I could feel it around me, the pain and despair,
yet, physically the man was nearly repaired.
For his scorched skin was not his problem,
instead the bottled emotions that devoured all of him.
“Would you like to come inside sir, and stay?”
In which he replied by looking away.
Again I asked, and received no reply,
and was startled when the man began to cry.
Unsure of what to do, I walked away,
Yet I’ll never forget what happened that day.
Be it from pain, or mute, or undisclosed desires,
I watched as the man was engulfed in fire.
I stood back in awe, with my mouth agape,
and feared that he had fallen into
Can you look deeper?You see that girl you just bullied?
The one you harassed over her choice of art?
The art of a man beating a woman to death?
She saw her father kill her mother when she was five.
You know that man who likes to photograph himself in dresses?
The one you called a homo because of his choice of clothing?
Well, his parents wanted him to be a girl instead of a boy.
So they made him dress like that everyday to pretend he was a girl.
You know that woman who writes stories about child rape?
The one you bullied until she didn’t know how to cope with life anymore
Her uncle has been in jail for the past eleven years.
He raped her daily for seven years of her life.
What about that guy who favored abstract artwork?
Do you remember him he liked to use the colors red and black a lot.
He was nearly beaten to death when he was fourteen.
He only knows nightmares because he remembers seeing his blood on the wall.
What about me? Do you remember me? Even just a teensy little bit?
You bullied me because
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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