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DreamscapeWe met again along the highway, that dreamscape among the trees
An empty little diner where we often shoot the breeze
I speak easy in your presence
Of everything, we talk
Truthful words forming each sentence
As the sun sets after dusk
We wander to the forest
Silent as the standing rust
The age felt in this place
We drift hand in hand
Neither leading or astray
Our minds play tricks and tell us that we've visited before
Deep into the trees we find some open forest floor
We come into the clearing
We settle down in day's last light
Prepare to dream within my dreaming
Eyes gleaming, growing distant
At last you speak again
Whispers of true love pass between your lips like sand
Slipping through my fingers
Everything fades away, I wake
I feel the cold and shiver
I wither in the dark
Reality has you and me so very far apart
CharmerSuffering used to follow me
Inflicted from excess
Overflowing from inside
Carried on my breath
My words used to infect
Seed despair and vast, dark misery
A literary viper, from that pit she bravely lifted me
Brought me back into the light
Extracted all my venom
Returned a kiss for every bite
I might have never known her warmth with my cold blood
She lit a fire in my heart
My veins coursing with new love
Enough time passed between us for my heart to be tamed
She calmed my inner demons and bled out all my shame
If I could speak her name
Confess my feelings to the world
I'd whisper, scream and speak it like a secret to be told
RealPoetry seems to have died
A world so full of restless eyes
No time for flowered words or fancy
Once respected, now called nancies
Glancing at my bitter words
You'll likely leave them all affirmed
I have learned over the years
I have no need for praise from peers
I hold dear what my verse earned
The affection of a dreamlike girl
A flower furled that I watched bloom
She's now come into womanhood
If I could begin again
I wouldn't change
I'd grip my pen
And in the end I'd find this joy
Without her, I'd be so void
A Light in the StormYou found me here, in a sea of letters
So many better and much more worthy
They'd curse me, but only if they knew
They know nothing of the love that I share with you
My distant muse
Infusing me with beauty
Nothing you could do would ever have you lose me
Choose me and I'll do anything I can
Stop bullets with my flesh
Lend an ever helping hand
I'll stand by you unsevered and even ever after
Lovers or dear friends, in the end it doesn't matter
I've been captured by your fire
You've become my driving force
You've become my great desire
Wants and NeedsI'm dying just to hold you
This poem has no veiled meanings
It's just a few honest words
You're the reason for my being
In seeing this, I hope you find some feeling of affection
If this is the case, I hope I can detect it
I've rejected every other chance
Until the day I can have you
"Sorry, I don't dance"
No second glance and in most cases, rarely even firsts
They sometimes ask me why, I say
"You'll never be like her"
Certain of my feelings, I'll wait til my last day
If I cannot have you, living was a waste
Distance and SensationI've done my best at saving face, but I'd lose it just for you
I feel it makes perfect sense
I'm expressionless in truth
Hid from view, my distant love
It makes me feel as if I'm masked
You're my first thought in the morning
At night, always my last
I pass off my solitude as a choice made by some others
Though it's really mine
I signed my heart off to another
Smothered by kilometers that lead into great miles
I'm fighting separation
Crushing urges all the while
Time will tell if I well spent my words and my affection
Lost in love and what will come
I'm content with this sensation
The Beautiful GhostI fell hopelessly in love with the most beautiful of ghosts
She's haunted all my dreams for longer than I know
Now she's gone away
Crossed over with my heart
I'll never numb the pain, fill the hole with a fresh start
I fell apart, I shattered
I traced her violet name
Forever in my flesh
An ever hurtful stain
She's part of my vast shame
The source of my rare smile
I tell myself she hasn't gone
I slip into denial
I hope it's just a trial
A test of my thin faith
Without her in my life, I know I'll fade away
ConsequencesAs I read, my heart began to race. My hands began to tremble. My mind climbed into my pocket and occupied the same space as my knife.
Time to end a life.
I laughed all to myself.
A sick sort of excitement.
The incitement he did spell.
Such poorly chosen letters.
Insults to my honor, family. I thought that he'd know better.
Whether tomorrow or ten years.
He will taste sweet consequence.
I'll make him know true fear.
He'll hear all his blood rushing. Slipping through the breach.
I'll make a new incision for every ill word he did speak.
Three Hundred FathomsThis black ocean inside me, churning endlessly like the sea of some dark fantasy world. Hurling, throwing me against the rocks. I break and scatter upon the shore. The waves come to reclaim me... I'm taken back and lost in waves. I accumulate, only to be as badly broken. This black ocean. The space inside my head. Eternal deadly storms and no guiding light ahead. I no longer dread treading this water... I've been broken too many times against the rocks.
I've become abysmal.
I reside threehundred fathoms below in thoughts.
Six Second Poem"We're all the same," she said. "Friend, tell me," she asked, "how are we different?"
For six seconds I paused, then I said:
Some of us ..
love more than we hate,
laugh more than we cry,
work harder than we play, but
live before we die.
Some of us don't.
And that, my friend, is how we are all different.
I willI will love you
all the way to the place where ladybirds go to die,
to the lushest corners of the earth
that hold the secrets no man was meant to see
and we will find them, and know them together.
I will love you
all the way to the place where bubbles are made
at the bottom of a glass of cider
that blisters the glass with condensation
as we trade hats and laugh at the way the air smiles.
I will love you
all the way inside a branch where buds dream of Becoming,
where those one-day-flowers stir wooden hearts
into an uprising, into a blossoming life
and we will plant our ambitions there, in the blooming place.
I will love you
all the way to the square brackets that hold our boxes
because you are my best friends, and you will be
as we fold papery hands around paper-cut wrists and cry
and mourn eighty-odd years flown by too fast. Even then.
Even then, I will love you still.
Beyond LoveYou say 'beautiful' like a mistake -
like it slipped out unwarranted
from those dark parts of your mind
that you don't want me to go to,
you say it like that.
You caress like it's worship -
like if you pressed too hard
or took too much, you'd pay the price
and I love those urgent times when
you're willing to pay it.
You teach me love like I'll die without it -
like if you don't defrost me
and my frozen image of myself,
then I might stop breathing
and extinguish beneath my own icy damnation.
You kiss me like you have to -
like we're sharing an oxygen tank
in a toxic, broken-down universe
and you are trying not to breathe
to save me.
You kiss me like that.
You love me, like that -
how am I supposed to resist
a man who loves me beyond his own sense
and senses - beyond love ?
EasterRemember what you love,
you with sand in your teeth
and the feral burn of hunger
in your eyes.
God sends his regrets.
He made you grasping and slow,
in a late hour
when the wine washed low.
Remember what you love.
Fall to your knees in the toss
and the swell, quell
the appetite of the cold black sea.
Beg blessings for your home
and the salt-sick trees.
Reach what lies near:
the fat-faced child, the sweet-soft lamb;
tether the tantrum, trickle the blood.
Offer psalms to what is holy,
whisper the name of what you love
as it bobs in the bleak mad sea.
Stereotypical SuicideSuicide is not a stereotype.
Not everyone has a family,
Nobody who lives for their care,
Nobody who wants them around,
Nobody who helps them through life,
Suicide is not a stereotype.
Not everyone has friends,
Not a person there for a simple hug,
Not a person existing for a reassuring look,
Not a person around to leave the words,
Suicide is not a stereotype.
Not everyone has a home,
No place to live and feel happy in so,
No place to live without leaving again,
No place to live to avoid the truth,
Suicide is not a stereotype.
Not everyone has a love,
Nothing there to hold them in warm arms,
Nothing there for a kiss to remember,
Nothing there to be a greatness in life,
Suicide is not a stereotype.
Not everyone has a someone,
"Don't do it - for your family
They mean nothing to me anymore,
"Don't do it - for your friends"
Friends? What friends? They don't exist,
"Don't do it - what about home
sunset soon forgottenin a single moment all her greatness collapsed,
her soulfulness small and full of absence.
i am wild
with infinite shades of yes -
and a careless smile
so kiss me quick
under the sun
(just until the pain leaves)
The Elephant ManHe had elephant hands; swollen and tendered
by old age and wiping away childrens' crying
so they were leathered and carefully painted
with a veneer of the dust made by old books,
but when he read to me the pages didn't shake
and his throat didn't contract about the words
like they were enemies to be spat out, bloodied.
Lungs didn't shiver and eyes didn't milk, then.
Now, I see love ephemeral. I see love half-dead
and carving its riverbed path, slowly eroding;
until it can rejoin oceans once known in heaven.
Now, I see him ephemeral. I see him half-living.
I see the fear of burdenship as the only thing
that makes his eyes flicker how Pernod used to.
I see a beautiful, crumpled drawing of my hero
as my grandfather slips, wearily, back to sleep.
Beautifully BrokenA tidal wave crashes
Hard against the front of my skull,
Spewing fountains of hate into the air.
They are not beautiful.
A shot glass in one hand,
A pen in the other,
I drink alone in my room
As everything about me falls apart.
I can't heal mistakes.
The higher I am,
The prettier the fountains become,
But they really still look the same.
The world sees such strength,
A stoic warrior in a landscape of corruption,
But inside is a black, charred heart,
Shrouded in secrecy.
I am not beautiful,
Because hate is not beautiful.
DunesOut on the dunes, you could be walking on the moon
Maybe you are, maybe we are; see that planet in the sky?
How much more can be said about body heat, about
Sucking the marrow from bones in a vain attempt to quench?
Disheveled by dust-storms in an ocean of sand, we walk
Blank-window eyes searching for what, some sort of life?
Our feet are heavy, the ground wants to eat them; no moon, this
Now the sky is the color of sand, and there are no stars to wish on
Sweat and dead weight, we wait for the coolness of night
Fatigued, delusional, we see a rusty car approach; we get in
Breath for BreathSolid oaks, standing silent sentry
Even once they're dead, they guard on through the centuries
Gentle breeze, or gale force winds
Silent they remain, save for howling with their limbs
Trimmed, broken and cut down
They do not resist, they fall without a sound
Ground down, turned into sheets of paper
Now they have a voice, though words aren't in their nature
I make sure to show some due respect
Marking bitter ulogies on recycled sheets of flesh
But best intentions are empty after death
Long past are the days of trading breath for breath
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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