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GhostWhen the lights are out
and the house is quiet,
when yesterday's clothes are strewn about
and the only sound's the creaky picket
fence, when everyone's asleep,
I finally wake up.
I go through my routine:
drink tea from my favorite cup,
read a magazine - stories on deep
sea creatures (ghostly and alien-like),
fold the still unsorted clean
linen, with stitched-in names, Mike
and Jane, names I don't quite remember.
I go through the drawers
and smell the bunches of lavender
tucked between the shirts, his n' hers.
Sometimes I get close to the beds
(on my tippy toes though no one
can hear me) and watch the children slumber,
their chests rise and fall, stunned
at how alive they look while asleep, how red
their cheeks and kips can be even when the sun
is nowhere to be seen. Alive, asleep, unencumbered.
In a moment of foolish bravery, as though on a mission,
I startle myself: I kiss Mike and Jane's
untroubled brows. They feel nothing,
perhaps a slight coolness, a breeze. The pain's
all mine, th
Merry-go-roundI can't get off this merry-go-round.
Every time I try to dismount the horse
I nearly tumble to the ground.
So I hold on for dear life; the sound
of the carousel becomes a dizzying force.
I can't get off this merry-go-round.
Like a fox hiding from bloodhounds,
I am frozen. I have no recourse.
I nearly tumble to the ground.
From every side I am surrounded;
I search for an exit, I cry myself hoarse.
I can't get off this merry-go-round.
So there it is, my life an endless circle - I'm bound
to keep repeating the same mistakes. I can't change course -
I'll certainly tumble to the ground.
Worse than the old dreams in which I drowned,
fear overtakes me, my past filled with remorse.
I can't get off this merry-go-round;
I know I'll tumble to the ground.
SpriteI cried myself to sleep last night,
the muffled sobs were dampening
the pillow, tears expanding
into lakes - and then, a light
shone through the window - a sprite
descending from the sky. Her green
translucent wings paused between
each fluttering to slow her flight.
She landed gently on the sill,
the steady rhythm of her wings
echoing my whimpering
coming to a standstill.
The sprite held out her glowing white
wand and whispered words, serene
and kind, and stars shot out, a scene
from another world, a sight
I couldn't, wouldn't miss. I willed
my eyes to dry and caught the sprinkling
stars on my tongue like falling
snow until I'd had my fill.
I lay in bed and stared at bright
suspended fairy dust twinkling,
winking at me as she flew, circling
me. I closed my eyes, enjoyed the quiet
water running through the stream
outside, the slowly flapping wings
above my head, all sounds leading
me to finally sleep and dream.
CrackMy favorite teacup has a crack in it,
a hairline fracture stained brown
by all the tea I drink in it.
Sometimes I wonder if the tea will seep
through, if the cup will be forever half empty,
but I still use it.
I study each of the painted ravens
flying on the rim, ready to take off
into the air.
One day, I took the cup
and poured some tea -
earl grey - and stirred the sugar in.
I tapped the spoon on the edge
of the cup - it made a chiming sound.
I brought the cup up to my mouth
and drank. I hit a snag -
a tiny chip cut my lip.
Blood dripped down my chin
and into the tea.
The sharp sting and iron smell
overwhelmed me. I dropped the cup
and just before it broke,
the ravens flew away and disappeared.
Untitled promptIt is hard to move wearing this dark, heavy cloak,
wet and sagging, dragging on the ground
amassing debris, leaving a muddy trail behind.
I trip, ripping the seam on a sharp snag;
I tug at the fabric still caught
in the jagged branches, shredding it,
threads running the entire length
of this musty velvet cloak.
I wipe the blood of my hands
and dirt from my brow
and shed this outer layer
Here I am:
naked, uncloaked, unburdened.
untitled project part 4They went into Sir Henrys study and lightly shut the door, but the draft pushed it back an inch. I knew it wasnt becoming, but curiosity got the better of me - again.
I thought we settled this matter, said James.
Not quite, replied his brother. Though for the time being, you are determined to be unreasonable. I know, I know. We must help her. But for how long, James? And how do we know she is who she says she is?
But she hasnt said, has she? She lost her memory.
Did she really? How can we be sure? For all we know, it could be a ploy.
A ploy to do what? James said, incredulously. I thought I heard him snicker.
I dont know, replied his brother. Clothes, food and shelter seem like a pretty good deal to me.
Oh for Gods sake, dont be ridiculous!
James, whispered John, Dont take the lords name in vain. A brie
untitled sestinaWhen the evening turns to night, that dark
velvet blue attenuating the fire
in the sky, at that moment the screams
stop. The children stop moving but for their ragged
breaths. A soft silence sweetly kisses
my face and dissolves into the air, never
leaving any trace behind, never
lingering long enough. When it's dark,
the flowers lower their heads, kiss
the ground and find respite before the fire
of the sun awakens them again. Ragged
and still tired, they open their mouths and scream.
I can't bear to see the tulips scream
at me, vivid red, blood red, their never-
ending wails. Sometimes I lay a ragged
cloth on them to contain their dark
dreams and muffle their fiery
voices, poisonous and ravenous kisses.
I wait for the night's delicate kisses,
the warm breeze that brushes the screams
away for a little while, puts out the fire
in our quiet little hearts. The wind never
reveals our secrets, hushes the darkest
thoughts hidden away in our ragged
minds. On the ground, the crunching of ragged
untitled project 1-2-3They were all gathered inside. Warm. Unfettered by any troubles, any omen. Drinking whiskey by the fire, candles everywhere. How happy they seemed.
It was that night that I came into their lives.
I could feel the blood and water slipping on my skin, the sea salt burning the cuts on my arms and legs, the stones digging in my soles.
It was dark and my eyelashes stuck together, but I could still see XXX (name of house to be determined). I could tell it was enormous.
I trudged on, the stones giving way to thick blades of grass yielding to my feet.
I stopped, frozen, under the willow tree. I could hear dogs barking, but I couldn't tell where they were coming from.
A large man came panting from the corner of the house and fired a warning shot with a rifle. I could see it glinting.
"Who's there? This is private property." He turned around, looking for the intruder, looking for me.
He pointed the rifle in my direction.
"You there? Who are you? What are you doing here? What are you doing on
TonguesIn the middle of a
the words will escape me.
They run off together
like children to a playground
and forget to come home.
They are happy and carefree,
never missing me
as I miss them.
At night, they might
wanter off in dark alleys
and get lost
and sometimes I come across
them again by chance,
gather them in my arms
and hope I never lose them again.
And other times, I forget
ever having needed them
in the first place.
Simple Girl Complicated ProblemsI know I am not the daughter you wanted
But at least you got it right the second time
My little sister found her place in your hearts
But I feel I have never really found mine
Why would you care to listen to your first born?
When you have a fresh blank canvas to create
All of those things that you wish I could have been
Had I not developed such negative traits
But those negative traits make me who I am
And shouldn't you love me without condition?
See my stubbornness as being strong minded
And when I talk, don’t interrupt just listen
I know I am not the daughter you wanted
I scowl but I still need your loving embrace
Though you barely acknowledge my existence
Apart from to tell me what I've done wrong today
But why would you ever want to talk to me
When an argument is never far away?
It’s the tone of your voice that hurts me the most
Rather than the words that you choose to say
To think I was once a baby in your arms
With such innocent eyes I could do no wrong
In many ways I
Little BirdLittle bird,
where have you flown?
how much have you grown?
How is your broken wing?
The one that I cared for,
that I put in a sling.
do you think of me
as I do you?
Do you wonder where I've gone,
what I've gone through?
do visit me again;
you've been the only one
I've ever loved;
my only true friend.
My Personal DevilHis kiss was that of fiery coal,
A peppermint-feel upon cracked lips.
His hands had gripped my soul —
Oh, the feel of ecstasy!
His eyes obtained the celestial sky
And were like the chilly arctic breeze.
There was no chance that I could deny
Such lively things…
His alabaster skin was so gentle, so smooth,
Mocking a similarity of mine as I awake at sunrise.
His touch had a way to soothe
The scorches upon my body…
My personal devil’s love was euphoria;
He had wrapped me in his hellish ways.
My body had been eaten away by chorea.
Yet, I crave his blaze.
Ignite me in the love you share!
Burn me with your singeing lips.
Show me how much you care!
Then drown me in your flickering flames.
His heated hands were placed upon my face.
His snakes spiraling up my legs.
Our lips were near a kiss, which he did not place,
And, instead, withdrew himself.
His deadly presence, his own personal darkness,
Was brightened by the sun.
I slowly awoke in emptiness
And lost my personal d
No AirI never expected to love you.
I never expected to care.
I never thought you would be on my mind.
I never noticed if you were there.
I don't know when it started,
But I hope it never ends.
The way I feel with you tonight
Is more than I can comprehend.
And when you talk
about things that I don't know
I lose my mind a little.
But I love the way you glow
I can't help the butterflies
I can't concentrate when I'm with you
The truth is -- if I'm honest --
Sometimes I want to kiss you.
So maybe it's no secret,
And maybe you don't care,
But when I see you my heart beats fast
And suddenly there is no air.
ParasiteWhen the day turns into night,
it begins, the everyday fight.
They begin to talk in my head.
If anybody found out they would tell me I’m mad.
I don’t know if the one who thinks is me.
Can’t these voices just let me be?
Speaking and confusing my thoughts.
For me these things are only frauds.
What if the things that I think are not mine?
Should I just lay here and whine?
I think they corrupted my soul.
No, maybe even my body as a whole.
This is the side of me that I have never shown.
At times like these it is dangerous to be alone.
My head feels like it’s blown off with dynamite.
I don’t know, maybe my brain is occupied by a parasite.
Peace is a lieHello there, why don’t we take a walk?
While we take a walk, I would really like to talk.
Did you ever asked yourself what is wrong with this world?
Why people are so screwed up in the head and their thoughts are twirled?
It is no secret that the world is at war.
And falling down are the masks that they wore.
Something in their heads seems to be broken.
Humanity is a monster and it has been woken.
When you think about it everything is a lie.
The only question you will have is: why?
Everyone is hoping for the big release.
But don’t be stupid, there is no peace.
Queen of NeverthenAtop the ashen bones, arrayed like thrones of Men
Sits none so dreary as the Queen of Neverthen
Great cobwebs, dust, and stolid, stale decay
Dead memories forgotten where they lay
A world, still and ever gray
That suffocates the ones who trespass in her den
Within a rotten skull, a fetid rat emerged
As swift as plague it bore and chittered as it surged
Low creaks and clatters sound akin to life
Its rodent teeth soon grinding like a knife
The Queen was happy with this strife
But nothing ever lasts save those who would be purged
Oppressive silence soon returns to her domain
Admiring her flock that she will never deign
A dull light shines behind their pallid masks
The company of corpses; all she asks
Wind GrownQuiet grown
With green and ground
The ash and sound
Until the green has 'nother play
A wat'ry stream
Down with a tide
Across the beam
The first to know the last of one
Breath of space
Carved by your arm
A heady place
Awaits no harm
Because no eyes will watch or plea
Wind is wrapt
Around you braced
By time that kept
You wings misplaced
One cannot fly where wearies went
Height and breadth
Come with the stars
While nourished wealth
From flanks and far
The form is kept but not the brain
Stones will crack
Under your weight
Streams run black
The light you take
Unknown on high there's but your will
The path you made
Will flood and break
No more remained
Your flanks are slaked
Come back when you are broke and burned
Now hole refilled
Where life was held
The ash was forged
Until the wind the self will stay
I'm AddictedBasked in your blue glow
Far into the small morning hours
I discover more than I could know
My goal is consumption
Of Knowledge, so I combat fatigue
And it takes control - my obsession
Read this, watch that
How can I ignore anything
There are facts upon facts upon facts
That I could memorize
And so I sit and stare
At the screen, mesmerized
JungleI am lost in my own murky mind,
a thick and balmy jungle teeming
with tiny parasites. I find
myself confined without
a compass, nor a sun beaming
its guiding light on me. I doubt
I will find my way, but still
I cut the overreaching
branches -- alien hands poised to scratch and kill
with sticky leaves dripping venom and bile --
clearing a path, to where I don't know...
The fog is dense and the vile
stench of dung worsens with rain.
I stumble in a puddle and notice
the moon's reflection, disappearing again
as the darkening clouds meet the mist.
A silence blankets everything
and muffles my cries, numbs my clenched fists.
I am trapped in my own murky mind,
a thick and balmy jungle with no exit.
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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