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We Will All Know PovertyHearts fooled, fouled, full
Arteries throb, clogged with shadows
With truth, no room for the other
Who is demanding
Who is begging
The self, cut in two
The self can see
No more truth
Clogged with shadows
The good life
All needing now
Gorging on each other
Becoming the other
Poverty, the bifurcation of self
A well heart wealth
Shining Under the SunOntological definition,
Why has life got to be such as mission.
Just let those labels go, dance with me and go with the flow.
The Will to Life or the Will to Power?
Choose the sweet life.
Not the sour.
Self-determination has got to be earned.
Look into you heart.
See what you learn.
Be still in nature.
Let yourself go we are all connected.
Zoom out and see Self-symmetry
Return to your roots
There's no limit to me
Mandlebrot and Julia
Lovers in infinity
Transcend Reality become divinity
Ego nature kills your soul.
You're the subject not the object.
You're the whole.
Don't give into the madness of society.
Be at peace and come with me.
Mental constructs are guides to life.
Don't believe in dogma.
It leads to strife.
The meta-physical we cannot know.
Until our demise.
We reap what we sew.
Love, compassion and not blind hate.
Wisdom not ignorance.
These are goals you should make.
Never forget that we are all one.
Floating on a ball under the sun.
Life the universe we should
Homogenised identityA curd festers on the top of a glass
Floating above the homogenised
Relative and pointing
At the curd
Relative to the curd
Fighting to sink
Under A Gibbous MoonIt was a dark evening, the light of a starkly gibbous moon shone ominously onto a lone Arkham building. A place rooted firmly into one of the more undesirable districts of that cursed city. The light trickled through into its Georgian interior, as if afraid of the dancing shadows it threw forward like devilish spectres. The pointed ears and peaked form of something alien to the world were cast darkly onto Howard Phillip Lovecraft by the softly tortured light. He sat reading the "The Cask of Amontillado", muttering to himself, strange musings punctuated by the curling of his lips. The cat's shadow disappeared and the scene seemed twisted for a moment, silent but for the screams of another world that could be heard echoing in the dark circuitous passageways of his mind.
Lovecraft stared stoically at the aged paper before him, pensive as he ignored this all too familiar experience. He closed the book, self indulgent self hatred and adoration of his erstwhile peer an
Tautological Transposition: As Do IWhen will the will be willing
The mind, like an arrow, goes forth
But strays from its path
Only when true will it happen, peerless, the will
Being fickle and unpredictable, choosing its own path
The path of affectation and the willed path, the duality of man
The nature of it
All contradictions that define
A man of two minds, desire and the desired
All things being equal but different:
I can breathe, yet I do not.
I am existence, yet existence is without me
Arrows fly, dulled points stray
They do not connect.
The great between
Oh the will of it all, the one and of the one
No two exist, separate but connected vessals
I want and I do not
I believe, yet I do not believe
That this mirror stares into
A reflection on the only path, the chaotic path
Self determination and fate, a coexistant possibility
I believe, yet I do not believe
Arrows fly, arcing to their end,
No matter the desired, no matter the outcome:
They always strike their target
They fly, de
Her Name Was Celeste.The house's roof was dotted rows upon rows of flowers of Celeste blue while the specks of Coquelicot red hues splattered ontop the blossoms. A little girl, as fair as the snowflakes twirling out from our crystal silver dome, with hair in lavender sparkles, and Earth's coral reefs on her silky dress, smiled ever so gently and fell onto the velvets, her cushion.. her entrance to the afterworld. The flowerings absorbed her corpse and she found herself as one of the delicates. Here she was in the same place she had fell to her death seconds ago, and now she is given another life as a plant. Celeste gazed downwards from the rooftop and spotted children her age playing merrily on swings and slides, as well as parents hugging and running with their offspring. A need, a seed, grew intensely from her underlying point and the hunger of joy sprang up. Years after years, she was left in wonder silently looking around at her surroundings, seeing the little ones she used to play with grow up, having
Hunting„Mom, mom, look what I found. This flower. It remembers me of dad...Oh, no, don't start crying, I am sorry, I just did... I miss dad...”
I like this place, the sun is shining down between the big trees. Flowers and moss is at the ground. This whole place is shining. Golden. As if the sun fell down and made everything shining so beautiful. “I like this place mom. The grass looks so green and it is so tasty!”. Between my legs a butterfly is flying. A yellow one. It reflects the sun and it seems almost unnatural. This is a perfect day. That is a day that makes us remember why we live.
The deers, a mom and her son are in a wood. Nearly left behind, no humans are there. A truly peaceful place..
“Run, run my son, I'll come after you, don't stop, run!”
What? What is happening, I can't remember, why do I have to run. Run, run, I should, listen to my mom, why? Why?
a loud noise fills the air. All birds stopped singing, all animals hide. Even the smallest don'
Genesis, Remastered“People are awfully two-dimensional these days,” said Eve, lounging on the couch. Her husband, perched next to her, grunted. He was absorbed in his iPad. “Adam?”
“You’re so passive.”
Eve sighed, regarding her husband’s skeletal form. “I’ll take the rubbish out.” She rose, leaving a large indent. The kitchen was a foul assortment of littered table tops and half-eaten take-aways, neglected by Adam and devoured by Eve. Hoisting the rubbish bag – full to bursting – over her shoulder, Eve trundled into the front garden and dumped it on the side of the street to fester.
Hands on her hips, she was about to turn away when a black cat hurtled across her path and dug sharp claws into the rubbish bag. It pulled its paws apart and week-old food spilled across the pavement. Eve sprang back and, losing her balance, and fell to the ground. The moon smiled down at her and she blinked, not botherin
To live among the starsA gunshot.
You feel your body hit the ground.
Your life flashes before your eyes, the happy times, the sad times, and all the moments in between.
You are dead before you know it.
Everything is black for a moment.
Is this heaven? you ask yourself.
When your vision finally adjusts, you look around to see the most beautiful sight.
Millions upon millions of stars and planets and galaxies.
You had always dreamed of seeing it.
Upon further inspection you find that there are people here.
Friends, family, and strangers alike who had all died once upon a time.
You begin to wonder...
What's happening on Earth?
Your thoughts turn to your friends and family
Still living in that world.
You feel a slight tinge of regret.
How do they feel?
They've probably discovered your body by now.
They're probably crying and blaming themselves for not being there when you needed them.
And looking around at this beautiful place only makes you r
The Overwhelming Feeling that Changed My LifeIMPORTANT AN: Alright before you start reading I want to tell you that there is a specific question I want to ask you about the story!! But only after you have read the story can I tell you what the question is or else your answer will be influenced! Please proceed to read because I am very curious to know your answer!!!
Have you ever witnessed someone stand without flinching in the face of death? If you did, would you watch from afar like a spectator and think about how weak you are compared to them? I did. Except for some inexplicable reason, at the last second, I acted on a feeling I can’t describe. And I sacrificed myself to save that one strong soul which deserved to live. Maybe I did it because the scene unfolding before me made me realise my monotonous life had no meaning. I live such a boring routine; go to work, come home, eat, sleep, repeat. Or maybe it was my simple desire to save the small innocent kitten who was staring strongly at the oncoming car. Either way, t
A Deluded Confession Many years ago, in the spring of 1847, I first gained the acquaintance of Mikhail Ivanovich Bazikov. He was the first man that I met upon arriving in Nizhny Novgorod - he lived in the same neighborhood, and he immediately struck me as the exuberant, exciting character who he remained throughout our time together. The two of us forged a close friendship in the weeks and months that followed. In him, I found sparkling wit and humor that I could only envy; in me, he apparently saw something that was absent from anyone in his previous association, something which I could not detect.
In the winter of that year, Mikhail Ivanovich became a deeply religious man. Two of his three children had fallen seriously ill and he turned to the church for sustenance and support. His donations to the monastery became lavish, his prayers incessant, his devotion unyielding. He often said that it was by the sheer grace of Christ and the blessings of Father Mikhail that he had
It Isn't Easy “I don’t get it.”
She leaned her head back so that she was looking up at the sky. “What don’t you get?”
I waved my hands to try and string my thoughts together. “How…how can you just be so accepting of this?”
She laughed and turned to look at me. I’d always wished I had her eyes, especially when she smiled like that. “Oh trust me, sissy, I’m not quite to the point of acceptance yet.”
“But you’re so calm about it. I mean, if it was me, I’d have been about to beat someone up.”
“I was pissed off, that’s for sure.” She paused a moment before continuing. “But being angry is just so draining, you know? Plus, it’s just too easy.”
I glanced at her then, confused. “Easy?”
“Yeah.” She gazed up at the sky again, wavy ha
EarthLong ago, a child was given a gift of precious wonder. Covered in soft greens and luxurious blues, the gift shone brightly under the light of the golden Sun and silver Moon. Day in and day out, the child nurtured this gift and decorated it with magnificent stones of a thousand stars, and created rain to feed the green when he was gone.
He covered it in colours and molded valleys and rock empires. He created small creatures to give it life, and smiled when he saw that they had multiplied. He continued to nurture his gift as the years went on, changing things here and there, adding new creations, and filled it with a fire to keep it warm.
Every day he continued to work on something new; something to make his gift even more special. The hardworking boy, now turned into a man, decided to create factions to give his gift a unique look. He constructed a land of pure white holding the coolness of winter, but his idea stretched too far and his gift was doomed to be frozen in time.
Tabby grew in a place that nobody ever seemed to noticed. She made her home under the shimmering summer sky, protected by arching branches above her and cold dirt underneath her feet. The warped aspens waved merrily down as she gazed and gazed up into those woeful heavens. She made pictures with the clouds, wars with the gnats, and friends with herself.
Nobody ever noticed that place Tabby called home, nestled snugly in a little corner folded off into the world. Only Tabby saw the sun sing itself to sleep and the moon drift home after fishing in a starry sea. She was never lonesome, with the rustling of the wind she gained the only company she'd ever need.
She grew into a fine little miss that Tabby, all by herself with not another soul in sight. One day, when her nose was tickled by the bees and the lady bugs played in her hair, she got scared. It couldn't have been the bugs, or the breeze, or the sweet taste of rain that fr
Limbo"The enemy will be here soon," thought a knight standing guard at Harod castle. He looked at the bleak utilitarian walls and considered the crumbling mortar that held them firm against artillery. The castle had seen better days, and was ancient in design.
He walked along the parapet, regarding his comrades stood there in the freezing winter cold. The air washed over the walls, chilling all comfort from his pale bones. "The enemy will be here soon," he thought as he continued along his forlorn path.
He patrolled around and around, up and down, an endless mechanical nature slowly moving in solidarity with his limbo bound comrades, frozen-dead. After a time an archer on the battlement above cried, "the enemy is here". The knight thought to himself, "The enemy will be here soon."
The castle guard stood and watched for hours in horror as the trebuchets were slowly brought into range of the crumbling castle walls. The fortifications fell
A Week Of KissesA Week Of Kisses
The first day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your shoulder,
Well before I thought about your lips.
Because I don’t know what I am doing, firstly,
But more importantly,
It’s because I know things can spiral quickly,
If things start shifting
After we lay down the concrete.
So I kiss the foundation,
Before we reach the soil.
The second day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your elbow,
Because it holds together the touch
And the flex.
To exhibit it,
I must kiss the joint that bends
And combines us together.
The third day I told you I loved you,
I lay my lips to your temples,
As I learned about the temple of reform,
For the Youth in North America.
Kissing you there signifying I will protect you,
As well as your temple,
As we re-form, into something more.
The fourth day I told you I loved you,
I’d kiss you softly on your forehead.
Because that’s what holds your brillian
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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