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Clouds of Smoke, Raining AshesClouds of Smoke, Raining Ashes
"Just keep breathing", says Johnny.
Who knew I'd reach out to a cartoon for motivation?
As I take the last hit from the suicide stick trembling between my fingertips,
I think of this.
"Just keep breathing".
In through the nose and out of the mouth of an ex-smoker,
comes the breath of someone avoiding death.
What's worse than seeing a hearse at your grandfather's funeral?
Seeing the mass of dirt upon the green grass.
Seeing the six foot square of which this coffin is lowered in with care.
Losing all control as I remember this, lighting up yet another stick.
Someday, I will pay him a visit.
But not like this.
I refuse to do it!
Follow in his footsteps like this.
I will make the better decision,
I am doing this for me.
"Just keep breathing",
I am quitting smoking!
"Just keep breathing",
I inhale so deep, my lungs are shaking.
"Just keep breathing",
As the final clouds of smoke disappear in the air,
"Just keep breathing",
As the final rain of ashes hit the gr
I FearI Fear
Wondering if I'm on the right path,
Do I need a map?
If I fell into my own personal Hell,
Wondering if I'll ever get well.
My body is deteriorating,
I'm just sitting here waiting.
Will I hear the chorus and bells?
Or the laugh of Satan?
Which path have I taken?
Will I be able to make it?
Feeling alone and cold,
Rotting until I get too old.
If I fold my hand now,
Will it be too early?
I curl into a ball laying on my bed,
Wishing for the thing I most of the time dread,
You're at it again
Lost in the world
A glass, some ice
A bartender girl
What happens next
is what I do desire
Every Saturday night
To get in my car
And drive to the pub
Is that the right word?
Fake another scowl
Put in a cruel word
You'll need help going home
You're afraid to admit
So I take you myself
While you scream "Git!"
By the ride home you're asleep
Dead to the waking world
Lost in fantasy land
Childlike visions swirled
I ease your discomfort
With a pillow, removed clothes
Lay my jacket over top
Put a kiss on your nose
Your eyes flutter open
Stunning and green
I smile that charming smile
And wonder what you've seen
Your lips part in a question
Are you asking for more?
You lean up in desire
With the expression I adore
I can't help but comply
To your heartbreaking confession
You close your eyes and smile
Lust is your obsession
Soon I've given in, happily
Though I feel guilty, it's true
Were those words an invitation
Or have I used you?
I look up in such fear
I Am a Stuffed Animal Bunny
I am a stuffed animal
Sweet, lovable, cuddly and can keep you company
Silent, small, and shy, but still can make you happy
If you're down, I can cheer you up
Little children are my best friends
Thrown away into the closet is my fear
I raise my head and tilt it towards the skies.
Open my imagination and close my eyes.
Envision a place where I would rather be.
As far away from any judgmental eye that can see.
A place where all my dilemmas become obsolete.
Free from my troubles and the expanding concrete
Confinement that I am forced to exist in.
A place where it doesn't matter if you don't fit in.
A place where nothing but a smile is required.
Where I can think and write to my heart's desire.
A place free from any physical and mental disposition.
Free from the conflicting and persuasive power of religion.
A place where there are adjustable weather conditions.
Where there is no need to enforce any laws or restrictions.
A place where everyone can do exactly what they wanted.
Where everyone would feel appreciated, accepted and wanted.
A place where money is just an undefined and unwritten word.
Where it is promised no natural or manmade disaster will ever occur.
A place that even the man upstairs would speak high
Carlene was a blonde little girl
Who lived at the end of my block
And spent the most of her summer days
Watching the hands of the clock.
Every day at the strike of noon
She ran outside to her deck
To search for a sign of her Dad there
Coming home from his newest of treks.
But day after day her mother came
And carted the girl away
Whispering in the little girl's ear
"Not today Carly, not today."
But still the girl would watch at the door
For her Daddy to turn the corner
And everyday she prayed and prayed
For Daddy to return to his daughter.
Her mother hid behind the door
And spied on the sad little child
Waiting for a time to tell her the truth
That would destroy her curious smile.
So again the mother would go to the child
And kissed her little girl's palm
"Honey, today is still not the day,
Today your Daddy's still gone."
"But he's coming home soon, right?"
She would ask her mother.
"Right, honey, he's coming soon,"
She wouldn't say anything other.
The girl started school and days woul
The Dark kingdom named Derse.
The storm still rages on,
When will it cease to pour?
Thunders and Lightnings,
I gotta admit, can be a bit frightening!
The breeze is cold and the rain is harsh,
Perhaps this world will become a great, big marsh?
I'm getting tired... There's one thing left to do.
My little night light.
It's time to slumber, my dear.
To the place of darkened halls,
Where the voice of the HorrorTerrors call!
A bit horrifying than the tall towers of the Golden kingdom,
More isolated than the place of the shining buildings!
Everless, I still enjoy this place,
The Dark kingdom of grace.
I do believe this eye-popping paradise is named Derse;
A perfect name for a remarkable haven! Sweet and terse.
I shall await my next visit to this wonderland,
Once I fall alseep in this world so grand.
Frosted FlakesFrosted Flakes
I pour the flakes into a bowl,
This morning happens to be cold.
I sit down, and with a frown,
How closely this bowl resembles my life.
These flakes are like people
Coated in sugar,
And yet so lethal,
Getting away with murder.
(Of my heart).
They settle in a round shape.
Disguised in sweetness.
However, when munched,
They crunch, in discomfort.
I let the pain slide down my throat,
To be led to my stomach,
Where it explodes.
No milk for the pouring this morning.
No lube for the tube going down my chest.
I just hope I can finish the rest.
Let the Sparrows InI.
Blackbirds rest on the power lines,
their silhouettes form the notation
to a dawn song set on the sheet music
of telephone poles contrasted by the sun.
Curled leaves are land mines littered
on the lawn where imprints of twigs
and a nurturing robin's tracks collect.
Branchlets and leaflets stem from
porch step railings and mailboxes;
the numbers read odd on the east,
even on the west side of the asphalt:
The engraved letters on
the siding reads, "Davis."
This house is home to family
so let the sparrows in.
with its branching hallways
furniture rooted to the floor
family, friends, the occasional
out from home.
Let the sparrows in; let
Let the door's
loosen—let the door stand ajar
be let open
the night owls and
let the doves
in pairs in the iridescent
Let the sparrows in.
Framed on either side
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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