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JudgmentNo matter what we do in life we're judged. Good, bad....we're judged by everyone...every choice we make or don't make seems to be examined as though we're rats in a lab trying to pick which path to go to reach the cheese. Those that do the judging, most of the time, think that they are entitled to think they know the reason behind whatever action you may have performed, therefore, forming a fabric...ated misunderstanding within their minds. Like a man that beats a woman; though the act in itself isn't justifiable, perhaps as a child...that little boy was beat everyday by his mother or father...or in a different view...witnesses his father beating the mother, or vice versa, and wanted to be just like Daddy and/or Mommy. The only thing that people see is a brute of a man seeming to have some sort of complex, taking it out on the woman thus calling him a monster...the same thing is said when the rolls are reversed and it is the woman that is deemed the aggressor...seen as the monster.
Lion of my DreamsI saw a little black kitty today and in the spirit of Halloween, I thought there might be a witch nearby. Laughing to myself, shaking my head, I just kept walking to my house where I knew my kitten was waiting for me. Fur of black, just like midnight, with a pale white stripe, as white as the moon, going down the back and covering the paws...it came up to me and purred like an engine. I picked it up and cuddled it so, but felt something really off. The next thing I knew, in my arms, wasn't a kitten at all...it was a spider. I yelled from fright, dropped it and moved back, only to have the blasted thing chase me. You better bet your bottom dollar I took off running then and just kept running....out of the house, down the street, around the corner, and then down another street. That's when I decided to stop, trying to catch my breath, but then I heard something. Looking up with a sharp movement of my head, I noticed I had run straight into an alley way. Dark it was, ever so dark that
Realm of SleepHave you ever been taken within the arms of sleep,
Your body ever so tired, exhausted, and weary,
Ableto pass quickly through the gates of dreams,
So taken by the weight of your slumber so deep,
Thinking that you'll never again wake up to reality,
Because within the world of hopes and dreams,
Things seem to be okay, to be at peace,
Such a tempting idea, such a tempting treat,
To never wake up, to stay within the realm of sleep.
ImportanceWhat is there to do when everything seems to be crashing upon you in never ending waves of stress and struggle?
What is there to try when all efforts at anything seem to fail before things are started, before they are even put into place?
What is there to possibly think when each and every thought seems to be nothing more than a silly notion?
And, what is there to ever say when each and ever word is neither heard nor listened to?
Nothing can be done when each wave has more force and impact than the body can handle.
Nothing can be tired, for the efforts clearly aren't enough and only seem to be a waste of time.
Nothing should be thought, or rather, each of those thoughts should be kept within and hidden away from the opinions of others.
Nothing could possibly be said for the words would only fall upon deaf ears.
No no no...
Even though struggle may exist within each path you try and take, there is always something to learn from the struggle itself....t
Through every stage in life, tThrough every stage in life, things always seem to backfire.
They always have that option to go completely wrong one way or another.
To open up one door is to close the other, leaving things behind.
But when things take a turn for the worst, there is no rewinding of time.
What's done is done, what's been said cannot be taken back or ever forgotten.
Perhaps, it can be let go, but most hold it inside, leaving it to become rotten.
Guards get let down, hopes are boosted too high, and dreams become too big.
But life always finds a way to tear them apart as if they never existed.
Then again, there is a bright side that many just do not ever see.
For them, it's more of a struggle to reach the end of THAT journey.
Even so, there's always going to be up's and down's to everything....
How many there are just depends on how one chooses to write their story.
Always The ServantA healer, despite their powers, is never seen as a grand wizard.
Just as a king or queen is never seen in the body of a servant.
To Love and CareTo love and to care for someone is to worry about them on a daily basis whether or not that worry is known by them. To love and to care for someone is to twist and bend til each party is sore from fighting and stress. But really, when nothing seems to really get through all that much...when is the right time to let that person be and just...slowly start learning to let them go? Perhaps, never, for the heart never really lets people go or lets that care for the other person fade away completely. Even if we try as hard as possible to make it all disappear, move away, never see that face again...eventually it'll strike you once more from a passing glance of them...all the memories and emotions draw right back up at the speed of light. Words might not be exchanged or an entire conversation could play out but when all is said and done, you did once care and love this person whether you like it or not. Whether or not it was a mistake in your mind. Whether or not the parting of ways was a sou
WishingTake the time and close your eyes for a mere second. Think of a darkened sky, the moon
in the phase of being new, and millions of glowing stars filling this darkened space. You
see the constellations make their appearances, make the endless river of sky larger…as
though it has no end to it. Now, you open your eyes to meet this mysterious scene before
you until…a streak of light flashes by, which hardly gives you the time to glimpse what it
was. You catch a second flash of glittering light, catching what it's supposed to be this
time. Well, what do you know? A shooting star to wish upon its glow. Once again, you
shut your eyes, but this time with excitement. Hands clasp before you and a silent air
takes place for naught but a few minutes as you're there left wishing.
What Makes a Dancer?The Dancer; perfect form, elegant and strong lines, and beautifully posed movements. What is it that makes a dancer, well…a dancer? Is it everything that was said before the question was asked? Is it the way in which a dancer comes out with a steady flow of steps to a song they've never heard? Is it how a dancer can create their own style? Or, is it how they can capture the eyes of an audience, getting those individuals to feel each emotion placed within the dance itself?
Many styles of dance exist around us. Jazz, Hip Hop, Funk, Bollywood, Salsa, and Ballet just to name a few. Each style has a different dancer. Every dancer has their own unique steps. In a way, dancing is like painting a beautiful picture. The different hues and careful brush strokes could be the dancer picking which steps to put in their painting to make everything flow and blend seamlessly.
One, two, step, two…one, two, three, turn…skip, turn, one, step, two. There are so many ways to compose a dance, so many ways t
BrokenI'm not broken,
Just a little bent.
All those words you've spoken,
Just left me a little dent.
My heart isn't shattered,
It just has a crack.
Sore, bruised, and battered,
But my tears I hold back.
Please don't worry about me.
I'm fine, I swear.
I just want you to see,
That I'm still able to be repaired.
Even though I'm hurt, damaged, and weakened,
Even though I've felt so much pain.
It doesn't mean I'm truly beaten,
It just means that I'll need a little help again.
Bad HabitI think I was your drink of fine wine,
only used when needed from time to time
I'd get you tipsy, as stars collide
Your drunk, slurred words
blending in with mine
(I couldn't even comprehend
when you said it wouldn't happen again)
I think I was your cigarette break
when anxiety filled,
from me, you'd take
One puff here, and one puff there
(I could barely hear
when you said, "I'm sorry, dear")
I think I was your line of cocaine,
thinking I'd be there to ease your pain
I'd bring you higher,
head suspended in clouds
(So I knew it was fake,
when you said, "It was my mistake")
I think I was your bad habit,
and ignorantly, you were mine
You continue to relapse, my dear
But rest assured:
I won't this time.
WallsTell them all your secrets.
They'll never tell a soul.
They'll keep you standing up
When your body's had its toll.
Beat them in your anger.
They'll never scream or cry.
They'll let you vent your feelings
And never pester why.
Hide within their safety.
They'll keep you tucked away.
They'll let in just enough light
For you to know it's day.
Is it too much to ask?I don't understand what's wrong with me today.
It feels like all my of friends have drifted too far away.
I've tried to be strong and fix all I've wronged
But nothing goes according to plan.
And I just want to back up, stop and start over again.
And these days are the loneliest of my life.
It feels like something is wrong but everything seems alright.
Are they trying to avoid me because of being me?
The past is the past but I hope I'm not history...
All I want is someone to talk and stay...with me.
Is it too much to ask for a little time and company?
His Last Kill"Open the window," he said to me,
one morning after the sparrow had died.
"Cast his feather, his copper wing,
his beak of honor, his perch of pride."
But I couldn't cast them - set them free -
to the breeze or to the rolling tide,
for the sky was static, the water - bleak,
and the conscience of my suitor - denied.
Maiden of the Olive Oil TreeMaiden of the olive oil tree -
caryatid body, color of cream,
how do you fare against the crumbling temple?
How do you fare against the pressure
weighting upon your chest?
For you have long kept this temple,
broken, like a mother.
You have long adorned it
with your cultivated crest.
But when the framework falters -
the foundation all decaying -
will you climb the olive branches,
free, no more inept?
And bathe in oil satin,
to smooth the ancient scarring,
as time releases tension
from your ankles to your breasts.
DeanThere is a boy named Dean.
I knew him for so long
before we were pre-teens.
Actually, we were born
days apart, just three.
Not long after
our friendship would start.
This boy was full of life
and loved to have fun.
When he was ten years old
the doctors realized
that between his
red cells and white
something was not quite right.
There were us few,
who helped him through,
just Sam, David, and I.
Of course, his parents,
and Tony too.
Remission was soon
we could see the end
this boy was so strong
nothing can go wrong.
He was healed.
He grew healthier,
he grew out his hair.
All the long, I was there.
He was my best friend,
and I was his wimpy little girl.
We would wrestle in the grass
we grew close so fast.
We made silly games in the pool,
we jumped on the trampoline,
which my parents never knew.
We played tetherball,
looked at stars and just talked.
I developed the biggest crush.
It was a different time then,
all I did was blush!
Of course I couldn’t tell him!
Is not real,
What you say,
Is not what you feel.
Make you rot,
"Who am I?
What am I not?"
Are an illusion,
They give you nothing,
Nothing but confusion.
Blinds the wise,
There is no vision,
In your eyes.
Is the greatest lie,
There is no feeling,
After you die.
Which we create,
Drain our life,
Leave us with hate.
And I have nothing but vanity,
Since nothing is real,
Not even reality.
Death's DaughterEverything to lose, nothing to gain.
There is so very little that remains.
A soul of light has turned to dark.
It's now littered with cuts and scars.
Noting to gain, everything to lose.
Death is the only option to choose.
He walks by her...he takes her hand...
She looks at him and knows he understands.
Coldness rest upon the skin,
Only seeming to sink further within.
She sits by a fire, begging for warmth...
But she wont...can't...feel it anymore.
Now, there is nothing to lose...
Now is there everything to gain.
Death now has a daughter in his home...
And there...in his arms...she'll always remain.
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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