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ScatterbrainedFor self examination I question my artistic spark
How do I define imagination? Chasing dragons in the dark
A crazy person’s machinations, supporting failures at the start
Do all ideas face expiration? Then why do I embark?
To reevaluate complacence, find explanations of the heart
Does creativity need to be original?
Can you create something useful
When all you do is trace a little?
Or is the act of plagiarism
Always considered pitiful?
I incorporate my influences
Whose messages ring truest
My works may be translucent
So long as what I feel gets through it
These doubts reflect within my words
My works, my thoughts, my actions blurred
My life: A candle’s light obscured
My death: An event so absurd
I may never find real answers for the inquiries I ponder
But I'll prosper shaking fairy dust off fantasies I conjure
DifferentI love to start my mazes from the center and escape
I prefer to eat my soups with just my hands from off a plate
I fly rocket ships at bath time and I swim through outer space
A different kind of misfit sitting snug in the right place
The friends I still have left say I'm a complicated case
You can't confiscate my kookiness, too strange to duplicate
I found a hole in my backyard, my pet ghost now calls it home
I like shouting out in public, and I whisper while alone
Like my daily philosophical exchange with a dial tone
Or 8 hour long discussions on my disconnected phone
None of the actions I partake in I particularly condone
Unless you happen to be different like my schizophrenic clone
Love AbroadI'm not sure what you're expecting
If you and I begin connecting once again
I know I used to be upsetting
In the past I was neglecting a great friend
Many mistakes still need correcting
I'm in the process of perfecting who I am
There are some flaws that need accepting
But you'll find after close inspecting we're a gem
Though our differences are plentiful
And by your standards I fall pitifully short
I will contort and bend
To be dependable and show you my support
The same as your past compassion
Let me imagine us as king and his consort
And I believe your love for me
Is as real as I can see without distortion
I've never felt a love so pure
As all the tingles I endure when you are near
And this distance to mature
Has made the fact that I adore you crystal clear
Don’t let a future so alluring
Be obscured by insecurity and fear
And I assure you dear, I’ll cure
Most of my heart’s impurities with cheer
Still you drive me crazy
You somehow frustrate me daily, hypocrite
Mime For The Deaf Snippet
Waking up stiff and sore, Rupert had no idea where he was, but the pink surroundings suggested a female's room. The daylight shining through the curtains, coupled with the alarm clock mounted on the dresser informed him it was a few ticks past noon. He yawned himself awake, but as he tried stretching, he found his right arm did not respond, acting as dead weight.
He looked to his right to find the sleeping clown lying atop the limb, cuddling his chest, snoring quietly and completely devoid of clothing. Nearly having a heart attack at the sight, he fought the urge to jump out of the bed and run away. Instead, he cautiously removed his palm from her ample rump, and slowly slid his arm from underneath her hip.
Slipping out of bed and sneaking out silently was no challenging feat for him, but locating his pants proved to be a more difficult objective. Pacing through his friend's house in nothing but his boxers had not been on his to-do list last night.
Neither had sleeping wi
Faerie InspirerThere once was a faerie so stunning and fair
With smooth caramel skin, and long, dark, locked hair
She was clever in mind with a deep-rooted soul
A carnal shaped figured; true beauty in whole
She danced in the wind, with her wings at her side
Enchanting onlookers who fell mesmerized
As she flew through the sky, to her home on the moon
Her departure caused many admirers to swoon
They composed complex tunes, and wrote tales of her splendor
And drew detailed depictions, desperate to remember
The faerie’s return saw loud cheers and great art
Each piece revealing a piece of their hearts
They begged her to dance for their eyes once again
Gleefully she obliged as a joyous whirlwind
The inspired drew pens to create their new treasures
Her immeasurable grace brought the artists great pleasures
Soon, after days of this passionate exchange
Her audience requested what she thought quite strange
They explained desires of more spirit to capture
The more they gained from her, the more their art
AnimalsWe’re animals, we’re beasts who prey
Upon the weak who fear our stay
Its natural to feast and slay
Their hearts bleed in our jowls
We all wear masks and masquerade
As decent creatures, folks who pray
But deep inside, our demons play
Beneath cowardice cowls
The others claim to know the way
Those neutered, tamed, trained to obey
Condemning us for what we say
Look down at us with scowls
They lock our voices in a cage
Restrictions bind, we’re blind with rage
Liberate yourselves, you slaves
Let free your hungry howls
To the vermin calling me scoundrel
I will not heel, I will not bow
You’ll hear the hatred in my growl
This angry beast is on the prowl
Young JanuaryI saw her at the local supermarket
She could have been no older than ten
She was buying some refreshing beverages
To quench the thirst of herself and her friends
On this summers day they had waited outside
Lacking patience they were shouting her name
‘January, hurry up we have to go home!’
From the shop young January soon came
Rushing past me at the speed of her childhood
My lonely heart skipped a beat or two
Either from her soft brown hair that touched my arm
Or the smile she gave as she passed through
Did I hurry through my shopping on purpose
In order to catch young January up?
Fumbling my loose change as I left the store
The cashier complained I’d given her too much
I feel everyone’s eyes boring in to me
So away from the store I swiftly fled
Knowing fine well that I should just return home
But something made me follow the girl instead
Pretending to read the receipt in my hand
I watched closely in the corner of my eye
Which way would young January be walking
31. FlowerYou, my love, are like a flower:
Delicate petals in heavy gale
Facing shower after shower
Of icy rain, snow and hail.
Delicate petals in heavy gale
Caught in winter's deadly cling
Of icy rain, snow and hail
Still you'll bloom in spring again.
Caught in winter's deadly cling
Facing shower after shower
Still you'll bloom in spring again:
You, my love, are like a flower.
LegacyIt is always the damn same song.
Always are the wrong people strong.
Why do they think that your way is wrong?
You’re asking yourself what is left when you’re gone.
Your whole world starts to spin.
Their skin and nerves are very thin.
Want to use you like a soldier made of tin.
When you know the only thing you can do is win.
Want to sort out because you differ.
If you don’t do as they say, they’ll get stricter.
They don’t want to see you as the victor.
The only thing left will be a picture.
When everything you see and hear is a conspiracy.
And everyone thinks that you are crazy.
You are unique, only once in this galaxy.
The words you say and things you do are your legacy.
The Cold, Hard TruthThere are no happy endings,
the fairy tales all lied.
Cinderella is still a slave,
Snow White, the Beast, and the Mermaid died.
Sleeping Beauty never woke,
Because Philip never kissed her,
Alice didn't find Wonderland,
the Rabbit must have missed her.
Peter's still in Neverland
with the Lost Boys, growing older.
The Snow Queen's heart didn't thaw,
the world keeps getting colder.
Rapunzel is still in her tower,
her long blonde hair gone gray.
The captive princess has lost hope,
there was no prince to save the day.
Falling StarsTwinkle, twinkle, the stars fall down
Down into the ocean, where we shall drown
Over and over until we awake
In a place, where we will break.
Your tears are the stars and your smile the sun
There is no happiness, for sorrow has begun.
Run, run, child! Run away now!
Please do not do this! Please do not allow —
Bang! Bang! The gun goes off.
So, child, let those stars takeoff.
OldOne learns in life that there's nothing to be learned.
That once you won everything there is nothing to be earned.
That all your lessons in life were unconcerned.
Memories and pictures in the attic must now be burned.
One thinks that there is nothing to think about.
Because the things they think are now allowed.
Because they are stuck when they want to be unbound.
When they want to lift themselves off the ground.
You'd never thought your young heart could grow old
And when the unspoken truth is being told,
You're labeling them as bold, heartless or cold.
You're scared of death. After all it's foretold.
My Spyro AnthologyA Spyro Tanka
Caring and faithful
Yet relentless and mighty
Destined for greatness
A Cynder Tanka
Gifted black dragon
Turned away from the dark side
Our hero's lover
Though swift, lethal and fearful
She hates her bad self
A Dragonkind Haiku
Civilized and meaningful
Home to all of them
A Spyro and Cynder Acrostic
Special and so
You never know what he can do with his
Of fire, electricity, earth, and ice
Along with a former
Nemesis from the
Nightmare to our hero's
Dear with so much to
Endure as she
Rages with wind, poison, fear, and shadow
A Malefor Acrostic
Means to bring
A dark age
Leaving us for dead
Evil spirits living
Forever in a world
Of empty space
Ruled by a corrupt
Spyro's Dark Destruction
He was cute and sweet when you first knew him
Now that he has grown
His strength is unknown
On his enemies with huge obsessions
The fire he breathes is filled with aggressio
HappinessHey you! (What huh?)
Yes you! (Oh no)
Yay you! (Uhh..)
Bless you! (Just go..)
Turn that silly frown around
And think of the things that you love.
You're walking the line with your eyes cast down.
So I got a little something for you, kind of..
Dream the dream which makes you sweet and strong.
Free your mind from worries and hate.
You'll have that feeling you wanted all along,
Even without a soul mate.
You don't need someone to love you,
As long as you love yourself.
Most of the people have no clue,
That happiness works that way as well.
Don't hold on to all your emptiness.
Everyone wants joy no one wants pain.
Smile for a while and let in the happiness,
For you can't have a rainbow without a little rain.
A smile can shine the darkest of days.
It can bring a little spark of light.
You can be thankful In so many ways,
That all turned out to be alright.
As you sprint down the hill that is filled with flowers,
And enjoy life at your hearts content,
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
PeacePeace is not a body lying next to you in bed
Peace is someone letting you hold them while they sleep
Peace is not being isolated, living in your head
Peace comes from the company you keep
Peace is not screaming your pain into a pillow
Peace is the result of exercised strife
Peace does not sit still in silence either
Peace is the hushed buzzing hum of life
Peace is not having all of your teeth
Peace is accepting what ones you have left
Peace has never been dying to live
Peace is living lovingly until you rest
Yes, death is peace, but there's one peace above
True peace is the calming effect of self-love
Blue Eyes in FlamesWhen the prince sees the flower bloom from the palm of her hand, he orders her arrest.
She is only seven years old.
He takes the flower from her and keeps it, even though he knows he shouldn't. He puts it a vase, or, rather, his servant does that for him. The flower doesn't ever die, even years later.
It's dawn of a December morning, and he's cold. But still, he stands next to his father dutifully and looks at the little girl with blue eyes that are now black from seven nights sleeping on a cold, dungeon floor behind bars. They cut off her dark brown hair during that time. She's tied to the pyre, and there are seven guards around her, holding sharper swords than normal, not that she could get away. There's one man dressed in black holding an unlit torch, with a mask over his face to prevent his death. His father raises his arm, and the torch is lit.
She locks her gaze to his, and he blinks at her. It's like she expects him to prevent it. He couldn't, though, he can't. She scares him, w
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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