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Don’t tell anyone,
Keep it quiet,
They mustn’t know.
What would they think?
If they knew the truth,
No, it must be kept a secret.
The judging looks,
Hiding all of their disapproval.
How could you do this to them?
No one expected it,
So you can’t say anything.
Who knows what they’d do,
If they ever knew,
With their old fashioned view.
It might not even be serious,
You could change soon,
Decide you were wrong.
You have to hide it,
Don’t tell them,
Definitely not yet.
ImpactsCold and closed off,
Block out everything,
Don’t show it at all.
Freezing the small part of world
That lies around you.
Don’t show them,
Mustn’t let them know
What your true feelings are.
They seem to share so freely
But not you.
I know it hurts,
But hide it none the less,
Hide it all the more.
Maybe you will see it some day,
You might see your good impact,
The impact on this world.
Perhaps you’ve made a foot print,
One big enough to be noticed,
At least by a few.
But you cannot see it,
They will not show you it.
So keep going,
The true feelings cannot be shown,
Just put up your façade.
Sit under the uncomfortable embrace
Of the lonely sun,
And beg for the moon to rise to quell your thoughts.
No InspiringStories told,
But never shared.
In their one simple job.
Or just never shown.
Holding Back the NightmaresSlipping, Slipping,
Into the sea,
The sea of sleep,
Filled with ghost lives.
Out of consciousness,
Down into unconsciousness,
The deep, fake world.
Hopefully it shall come soon,
That sweet embrace of blankets,
The wonderful life,
A new, amazing world.
But the terrors might come,
The fear of the lies,
The lie of the fears,
Horrible things that torment you.
Please no more nightmares,
Don't come to me tonight,
Let me dream of sweet things,
Of love and a different life.
It Doesn't Matter AnywayIt’s the little things,
The tiny things that hurt,
The insignificant things,
That everyone overlooks.
Conceal it all for it matters no more,
But still it burns,
But they can never see it,
It’s too silly and small to say.
They’d never understand,
They could never see what it means,
Because it’s just a broken heart,
Just a broken mind.
Issues too small,
So hide them all away,
Lock them behind a façade,
They never matter anyway.
They’ll never matter,
Just avoid the triggers,
Even if it means giving up on a tiny bit of happiness.
Deeper Into the InternetFalling deeper into its grasp,
Getting drawn in further.
Using it to create an escape,
So that I can escape the place I created to escape to,
Wrapping myself in layers of binary code.
Just one step further into this mechanical beast,
Can I really use this to hide from my own creation?
Trapping myself in a maze of sequences and codes.
Another NightForcing air into unwilling lungs,
Shaking, raspy wisps of gas fleeting in and out,
World turning fuzzy in a blur of deprivation,
Warning bells screaming.
Fear snapping at weakened heels,
Paranoia coalescing in a rainbow of pain and misery,
Feelings that should not exist yet still they do,
They latch onto the overpowering mind.
A heart trying to fight back,
Calling out for help but stubbornness,
Stubbornness from the head takes over,
Not letting the mouth speak the truth.
Breath shortening to barely a gasp,
Words failing to form,
Nothing but a cracking whisper,
Trying to hide behind false composure.
The fear gets worse as the lies fall easily,
It never should end up like this,
But the alternative could be worse,
Not another night of this. Please not another night.
Thief of the ThroneHe tore their eyes out,
Let their blood run,
The only thing left of them that could.
The blamed and the blamer
War ever onwards,
The ceaseless torment
Overthrows the king.
But the throne is not what they thought,
No gold or silver,
No mahogany or oak,
Just a pile of rubble,
What more could they have expected,
What more from a monster
Especially one of the dark.
He lost it all,
And was blamed and judged,
Now no one sees the pain,
They just talk about the pain e caused.
So as the monster I say,
Just leave me alone now.
Throne of a MonsterLook at me.
Am I not a monster
In your perfect little eyes?
Am I not the devil
Sat on my throne of pretense?
Then you are blind I say,
Blind to the dangers.
Look at them.
I warned you
Of my accidental power.
Now you all scour.
No words can correct this,
Everything I did.
And now I'm probably
Making a bigger deal out of this than I should.
It's what I do.
Now look at me with your new eyes.
Am I a monster?
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.
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.
I've ForgottenWhen she died
I tied a knot in my stomach
so I would remember
but I've been so busy
trying to remember her dying
I forgot how to forget.
how to let go -
and the doctors said
they would cut me open
and snip her out
a blade between the bows
and the pain, would be gone
but I've forgotten
how to let go -
and I still don't want to.
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.
love didn't matter, but home was with youi.
there's still shadows left of you
even with the
little that remains. i wish
sometimes the light
would stop it's singing long enough
for them to grow,
my heart spends enough
time aching when
just the photographs
show their faces.
you took me
to a wedding once - it was a cold
night, and the
of stars in the sky made
it seem like God's
breath was reaching out
to earth. i don't remember
the names of the two who
indefinitely, anymore, not
when the wind's taken
in it's hold; but i remember crying because
love's just so damn
hard to find, and you
found me instead behind
the rosebushes that
were too stained to be called
me that sometimes
love doesn't matter, and
i (did)n't want to
you asked me once if anything
mattered, a lighter
gracing one hand and a
cigarette lining your
lips. i wasn't
sure back then
and i don't know
if i am now
(but i think i want to say yes).
my body never felt
unarticulatedtonight I ask myself:
where are you going with all these names
in your pockets? syllables that taste
unauthentic in the desperate American
repression is a series of images
earthbound angels breathing
flame, starving hands speaking
in tongues, glazed eyes
asking are you fucking okay
pale skin becoming moonlight,
reflecting and refracting and
the quiet understatement
Diamond TearIn silence
I observe them
Laughing and having fun
While I'm in my corner
I feel out of place
I don't belong here
So I leave
And no one notices
Now I'm out on the street
A dark and silent one
Enjoying the breeze
Lost in my thoughts
Suddenly I hear a sob
And I look around
I see a girl
Sitting on a bench
A single diamond tear
Running down her face
I don't know her
No one else is around
I could just leave
But I can't
So I sit by her side and ask
Without looking her in the eyes
For a moment
And then she takes my hand
And we look
Into each other's eyes
And she whispers
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.
SafeI clasped my hand tight shut around my mothers.
I was a possessive oyster wrapped around pearly fingers
bitten white by the freshly whisked air.
We braced ourselves against the frozen metal frames
that, although unmovable by infantile hands,
were not a substantial enough barrier against a tempest.
The sea lashed out its limbs in a fury
and the sky’s face paled grey with worry
at what that grasping anger might achieve.
It rose to greet us, stood on mighty churning haunches
and collapsed heavily around our shoulders
with the dramatic violence of a dancer
crashing down upon a splintered Tibia.
It drenched us, filling mouths and ears with water.
My mother’s hand squeezed mine, comforting,
and as the sea drew back again,
preparing to strike out at us over and over
until its very exhaustion point – and over once more –
As it readied itself to slash our raincoats,
with the force of an evening spiralling into true darkness,
over and over –
for a moment the smell o
Stuck in my MindI have to say sorry to your face,
My mind just seems to want to wander,
So I'm not sure what you are saying.
I'm stuck in my mind,
Lost in my dreams,
Controlling the world around me,
With a scatter of impulses.
I have to apologise,
I don't know what's come over me,
I seem to be so lost,
I can't escape.
My mind reels through the memories,
The insanity of the world,
I come up with ideas that I can't express.
I'm stuck in my mind,
Lost in my dreams,
Imprisoned in my creative cloud,
Unable to tell you what I'm thinking.
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
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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