|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Moonlight Ride of the HorsemanDarkness hovers as a thick mist around,
Seeping into soft skin, penetrating light of Diana.
Upon the great mount, the White Horseman,
Mystic of ages, consul of secrets.
Ride upon the whispers of Silent Night,
In thy hand the grasp of souls.
And flowing mane of thy servant
Playing in tiptoe games with Wind.
Drink only of the raw dew does oneself,
Graceful droplets of the clean tree
In action of purity and sanctity.
To be clean of the ground thy tread,
Noiseless banter upon soft mud.
The ride is smooth as quicksilver,
Unattached to Their lonesome world
And yet still free from natures refuge.
Light prevails, upon darkness
That suffocates the wandering tract.
And fleeting glimpse of the ride,
Of one such as thee, blinds sight
A feeling of euphoric disillusion.
A pained uncertainty of sanity,
As illusion is the isle of Circe.
And still nameless stranger creeps.
Great black slender crept,
In silence upon splash of blood red.
Slowly to sink the
RustThe progression of the ambience upon the shadowy silhouettes,
A deep cut in natures grimace, no longer the melancholic silence.
Fresh dew, a varnish on the hovel, the foundry of man's emptiness,
His footprints bare and old, and knife is carcass to the rust.
But the noise is still existent, the ringing and chimes of
The scratch of the axe upon the flesh.
No longer screams, a melody of chimes and bells.
So sweet the music.
FleshThough flesh has left the earth,
Opiate, so sweet has not.
But stays rather,
An open wound.
Frequent guest of ours,
So close to thy heart.
Phthisis should be leaving,
Soon, upon my own departure.
Blinding to the senses of me,
Taste only knows sawdust,
Vision knows no colour,
Touch is an illusion.
And I, left ravage for the wolves.
Upon this empty bed,
Struggling to raise my hand,
Trying to grab your ghost.
Ghost there is not,
A picture frame instead.
Your timeless face,
To beautiful to be fully captured.
Forever expression you hold,
Always that weak smile,
Anticipation- lonesome sign,
The coming of the Reaper.
The Simplicity in DesireMy delirious lust hangs moist,
Once more for the sweet taste of your smile.
But what is gone forever, is forever lost,
And within your tabernacle lie only bones and echoes.
Like a dusty coffin, built to last only the showroom,
You are already beginning to fade.
And still your voice echoes throughout
Silent hallways upon the dry cracked covering.
Persistent as ever,
Never ceasing to shatter the heart.
The war was lost and the soldiers fell like toys
No matter the cries for an end, they all fell.
One by one their spirits risen,
As the Grandfather of the Stream
Will ride once more to lock them into eternity.
My doubts however resurface,
Eternity has never been what it seems.
What was dubbed eternal has always become mortal.
Even in the life of yourself,
You lied with every word from
Your soft lulling voice.
Your lullaby shambled,
Your foundation cracked,
Your picture ignited.
Forever lost, you yourself have ignited,
It was only the picture that kept you bound.
Lament for BeautyOh faint and distant glow so close and far,
How beautiful the paradox is a coercing reminder
Of the simplicity of the dry wood.
And the bark of the trees-old creaks tired,
A monument in the hot ash and embers,
Even they could not fall.
Instead forced to look upon the grave,
One thousand distant dreams shattered,
And lonely wails will cry on yet.
Oh great city home to the nymph,
Bird, and great Pan, charred and fallen
To its great enemy.
It is full of the smoldering reek of fresh,
Warm, thick blood, still wet upon the canvas.
Never meant to be cover't up.
But ash prevails, soot brimming
Into an amphitheater of what remains,
Animals burrow through the black.
Cancer of the scorched earth,
Eyes can barely grace with the fatal glance,
Beauty has withdrawn from this place,
Familiar becomes forgotten.
NightOn black wing'd horses thy approach,
Nightmarish carriage from blackest depths.
Into the heart to strike fear,
Among men, the fear of life, the end of light.
And hellish fiends of Styxian realm,
Minions of Shadow, knights of Pluto come.
To steel thy breathe cold hard trickle,
Like beaded dew, the frost, upon thy neck.
And from thy eyes vision stole,
End of sight, sanities farewell.
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 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.
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.
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
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.
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
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
Keep in Touch!
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