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A Shade in the Fog
Gazing onward with the wanting eyes,
in search of nostalgia and reminiscence
is the shell of me.
Repression of thus, my depression,
I recall little to nothing at all.
Find me within the fog of my thought,
Shade of my Lord,
for lost am I,
drowning in the murky waters
of my ever fleeting psyche.
Recollection-Chapter 1:The Hills are nothing new.
Normally...Journeys...quests...the idea of a purpose upon an unknown path...they always have some sort of ending...the story ends, and the reader is finished. It is rather hard for the reader to move on to another story when the writer is all but mortal.
I was once mortal, like all humans on this Earth, but fate has always had a harassing sense of purpose with me, before and after the Great War. These words will be of the roads fate has placed my old feet upon. There is so much to tell with the memory I have...However, I primarily write this to maintain any bit of sanity I may have left in mind...Lucidity is quite the difficult thing t
That Elated Kiss
Between us both, that kiss of God
From to and upon the souls within the very cores.
The fruit of this knowledge was not ill-gained,
As meant for mine eyes was the gotten teaching.
Ah yes, the inspired motivator amongst my tongue,
Pure, but deadly, as to protect what is owned
By the cavities that contain ours, the beating hearts.
This marathon to & through
which I gladly volunteer to run,
Has my limbs aflame, enthralled with elation,
Striking down to its knees, the very calamity that
once over took me. Bless you, from above,
as from my lips between us both, a kiss from your lover.
The NightMy element, the night
The Moonlight, sends shadows dancing
The sky dotted with lights of untold life
The street lights, a radiant glow
Lighting the way, to my destination
My senses amplify
Picking up the slightest sound
Catching the faintest movement
Feeling every change in wind direction
Where shadows can hold everything
And light offers a slight repause
I am most alert
Yet most at home
Here wondering the night.
The CoinA single coin is tossed in the air.
It may land on hope, or fall on despair.
A choice between two, just one is essential.
One is life crushing, one full of potential.
Some will claim luck, either bad or good.
Others say fate, the cosmos knew it would.
There's those who have faith, who wish for the grand,
But that hope is empty if Life dealt a bad hand.
Some will give up and fold with their life.
Others keep trying and pull through the strife.
There will be prospers, there will be fails.
The coin is now falling... will it land on heads or tails?
In your garden yesterdayIn your garden yesterday
which you lodge among many loves:
a gentle, wishful sway
below the florid eaves;
I noticed the quiet leaves
had weathered each cruel ray
to foster the foxgloves
that flowered today.
KawaYou told me water
Ran only in the summer
When wind currents stormed.
How can that be if
The earth always rotates and
The wind always blows.
Why do you
when all around
Why do you
when you are
Why does the sun
every morning and
Flood of Hope~ Nothing quite compares
to the beauty of the rain
that crowns me in hope
and carries me away
into another world
where I feel so free
from this broken land
and haunted jubilees.
In the dreary night,
I can hear them sing
of the trifling rain
that this nature brings
and it makes me mad
knowing that they rebuke
this lovely thing called rain
that serves as my refuge.
Under it's healing touch,
my soul is at eternal ease.
Scars of shame disappear
like black holes in the galaxy.
Since my darkness fell
to the power of the rain,
everything is brighter within
and I've never been the same. ~
Levender EyesI slink on the boat
To the river Styx,
Charon cackles, bobbing his head,
Coal waters pull us away.
“Short lived,” my guide rasps.
Pincers implant themselves in my iris,
My eyes pop like turquoise cherries.
Eyeless ruts breathe out dust,
My lips part, I vomit moths.
Look lavender eyes.
My chest cracks open
Rickety doors on rusted hinges.
Give a man a fish he will eat for a day.
Teach a man to fish he will eat for a life time.
Give a man a gun he will rob a bank.
Give a man a bank he will rob the world.
We adapt and adjust.
Constantly dithering on the cusp
Of what is considered wrong and right,
Ensuring that our ambitions remain in sight.
We would be willing to do anything
In order to get what we truly desire.
We would be willing to risk everything
Even putting our friends in the line of fire.
We may share the bounty with others,
Allowing them to experience the fruitful taste.
Given the option we will even care for our brothers.
Just as long as w
I Prayed For RainDear God,
I prayed for rain yesterday.
Rain to rinse the sprawling greens that lay across my home,
To wash the coats of the goats that graze there, so peacefully,
To clean the mildew from that rotting hut where the old man lives.
To cleanse my lips, for they are dirty with half-hearted lies.
I prayed for a warm, soft rain.
For a cold rain would make the grasses shiver and shrivel, and
the goats to mewl uncomfortably as they retreated into the darkness.
The old man would simply turn and hide in his aging hut of cold, cold stones.
And my lips? They would harden with the lies I coat them with.
I want a shower to dance in.
So the gras
AliveThey pointed and laughed at her,
Because she smiled between each second,
Because she laughed between each page,
Because she danced between each step.
They laughed, and they stared,
Because they didn’t understand
The jokes she heard in the birds’ songs,
She happiness she found in every note.
They didn’t hear the lullaby
That the wind sang with each breeze,
Or the stories the trees told
With every rustling leave.
The relief at having survived
Yet another night, another day.
The joy at being outside
Of the hospital’s gloomy walls.
They didn’t know the fear
And the sorrow she had suffered,
When her parents had
DisillusionedBlack streets in the dawning light
we punch out dissonant tap dances
in high heels grinding out freedom
on the south side of suburbia
we remember the lost stars
and wonder if we're just faking,
or if our souls have curled up
in the night and relinquished
their heartbeats to the sound
of the storms of traffic.
Cultural obsessions hold bottles
of vodka, wishing they could feel
the bacterial cultures bunching
in their battered chests.
Hyper but flaccid
we slump behind screens
and pour out missives in broken english
pushing keys into our fingers
slip sliding into madness
and sadness, and when we die,
we do it for the lulz.
Sorrow upon the Old Gallows.Such suffering...
of loved ones, past, and few present...
Such pain weighs heavily on me.
Yet another burden for my weary shoulders
My prayers are endless for you all,
yet I am forever bitter to the causes,
greater in number are they to the victims I know.
Addictions on high, actions so low...
Following the heat from Hell's fires,
blind folded and willing.
Unaware of the calling voices of desperation...
The voices of loved ones,
calling from beneath the Gallows, as nooses are tied...
Few are heard, as the addictions are high, and the actions low...
High AboveI am the bird's eye view; I am the Dragon's domain.
I am parallel to that which is Heaven, yet Earthly in physique.
My head is a goal of many men, a metaphor in many ways.
What lies beneath me is foundation.
My beginning is alpha, my ending omega.
I am the home of many a great deal of mysteries.
I am an instigator of fear in the hearts of many.
Many forms have I formed, in the frames of formality.
Fatal are my ledges, and fateful is my climb.
Nature is but my mother, yet weather is the father that molds me.
Stand fast, for I am I treacherous within the glory many seek in me.
What I am is the intended location of luxury for many upo
MetalMy vanity is humbled by my silence,
My attitude is edgy, yet short drawn.
I have marked the ends of many lives,
and I have sprouted honor into the names of great men.
I am a symbol the honor and glory in bloodshed,
Justified by cause, for such ideals as totality.
Bereft of pity and remorse, I go where my master pleases.
Belittled only by the peaceful at heart, and the vain in battle.
I am only an abomination when little care is bestowed upon me.
I am the decorative tool, the kin of ancestors before me.
An item of both order and anarchy.
I am the sword, battle scarred and forged in honor and chaos.
Bringer of Sleepless NightsI bring you fever-dreams, and discourse in the night.
Constant am I, a host of fear, a constant reminder.
No bringer of Death, yet a tempting promoter at times.
The sweat you feel is the warmth of my very breath.
Your quivering hands and trembling thoughts are my voices
Rattling that which builds you up.
My intentions are natural, for I am the offspring of sin.
Such is my way, just as your actions were yours.
Shake at my continuous nagging, shiver at my never-ending irritancy.
I am your unwavering lust for perfection in yourself,
The result of such is my purpose of existence.
I am but the guilty conscious...the monkey on your back.
Impulsively PremeditatedI desire to understand what beats the heart in your chest.
I long to know what drives your thoughts to such depths...
I am aware of the uniquely dark specter that is your mind,
I am in check with the lack of equilibrium in your synapses.
Even if it means to strap you down for forceful evaluation.
I will know, I will learn, I will prevent, and I will prevail.
Similar to my words were your ways before your incarceration.
The list continues onward...
Your faults are untimely and unlimited...
Such life wasted for such death desired.
Such sin is surely the host of
your fall from grace.
Murderer shall serve as your title
until a famili
In Your Name.My question wanders, languid and lonely,
Unbegotten of an answer, for it's hand to hold...
What glory is there,
in the bloodshed of your fellow man,
in the name of a peaceful God?
The lies no honor upon a putrid battle field,
aside from the rotting sacrifices, lost in vain.
These forgotten fields of battles lost,
lay bloody and bruised,
until, the vultures feast ends.
What tempter has mislead your beliefs?
How clouded has your judgement become?
O' Leaders of men, the fallen have turned you
to face nothing short of tyranny as a means of victory.
Of what faith is such slaughter justified?
This war you claim to have begun, is old
Ignorance is Fear
What knowing have you
of what you speak?
The rotten fruit from which
you've bitten and consumed,
has truly brought to you
the seeds of idiocy.
What have you done,
to comprehend such words as provocative?
As pure and professional
are the letters that I form to art.
Doubt I that you
know a significant thing.
The ignorance you so proclaim,
is the fear from which you flee.
You dread whatever is misunderstood,
and without reason do you lash outward
with teeth and claw,
like some rabid beast, tormented by disease.
In the end, the clarity has marked
that yours is the feeble mind.
Yours is the debate of madness,
and the indecenc
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`ChewedKandi has certainly gone out of her way to keep the vector community on the right path. Always making sure that her talents are infinitely scalable, Sharon has put her bezier curves to excellent use, and firmly anchored herself as an inspirational leader. We're absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for June 2013 to `ChewedKandi. Congratulations, Sharon! Read More