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InvincibleYou are not weak
For not being able to do it
You are STRONG
For stopping before it became a hazard
For quitting while you were ahead
You are STRONG
To admit you were weak
You are STRONG
Because you are not defined by this act
You are STRONG
And will continue to be so
And we will always be there
To catch you
To mend you
To dry your tears
To fight of the foes
And scatter the blues
We will be here
You are STRONG
And together we will be INVINCIBLE
What Have I DoneSat
Proud and vile
In your snakeskin silk
Vehemently in denial
Crawl on your belly
Press your fingers
In the embers
Writhe through the cinders
Bury yourself in the skin
Don't come near
Far from placid
You toil and struggle
Drowning in your shame
Can you feel their pain?
Ignorant to uphold your claim
What have you done?
For what you've done
Swing in the sunset
Broken neck and pride
On your ego
It swells beyond the noose
A mouthful of hungry flies
As the crows peck out your eyes
What have you done?
Hot Cross BakeryEvery spring, the equinox does bring
that sweet hot scent
Of doughnuts, pastries and hot-cross-buns
wafting from those old blue vents
They do it best, enlightening the dreary street
with their sweet fresh produce
Every spring that odour warm and sweet,
rides the air, busy minds suddenly enticed
A short stretch of pavement, ridden with promises
'Hungry tummies! Do not fret,
for you are soon to be fed!'
IncarnationThe only thing that moves is me, the slow rise and fall of my bones, lifted and lowered by the lazy bellows within their ivory cage.
Life, red and sweet races around the pipes of my structure, feeding strength to my motion-less joints.
A slow thought rises to the surface of my mind amid an elevator of pearly bubbles, rings of ripples exude outwards, as the thought dives once more, out of reach and out of hope.
It's glorious hide eludes me constantly. I cannot snare it. It teases me, rising enough to flash it's royal scales, before vanishing into the misty depths to a silent, gloomy grave.
Dreams like graceful herons wade to and fro, beaks dipping slowly to dabble and probe my conscience for my deepest, most warped thoughts.
A black shadow-drenched raven rides the air-currents of my psyche, the evil embodiment of my hatred, it's hooked sharp beak slick and sleek to snap at any soul.
In a vast riven recess slumbers a dragon, his sleep only disturbed to belch his scorching flames borne of
Dot Dot Dash!'I gotcha now, little bastard!'
It will never know what hit it.
I went tense as the creature twitched itself. My paws were ready, and my muscles were tightened to hold me down.
Any second now...
One more twitch, go on. Do it... Yes!
I catapaulted myself at the being, claws out and toes wide to catch it. Digging my hooked talons into the curly ground I carefully raised a paw to make sure I hadn't missed.
It was gone! I cast my eyes around desperately, where had my prey gone?
There, on the wall!
I was suddenly aware of my pets staring at me. They all burst out into strange laughter at my antics. Had I been able to, I would have blushed.
So I did what any foiled hunter does;
I bent backwards to preen my coat, casually as if it was my intended task anyway.
It only made them chuckle more.
I glared hatefully at the red spot that now rested gloatingly on the far wall. Stupid jumpy dot.
I rose to my feet and prowled out, I would not be humiliated by a bloody speck.
How To Show A Girl She Can Love HerselfWhen you see her cry
you get a rag,
a gentle delicate clothe
lovingly grasp her hand
and dab its tip
to dry each tear as they come
and ask each drop
why it'd leave
such beautiful eyes.
If she wishes
to be in the sky
Tell her to go
Take the sun ransom
And replace it in the sky
So you can see her every morning
and plead for her
To return each night.
When you see her scars
gently like you might
caress the broken wing
Of a dove
and remind her
that for every hurt
that she's survived
has only made her
that much more unique
that much stronger.
Show her that she is worthy of love
That she deserves the love
she fears to give...
show her so that
one day after you're
A Nail In My HeartIn my heart
There's a nail
Outside its core,
In my hand
There's a hammer
Leaving me a choice
To pull the nail free
Or leave it to rest
In the center of my soul.
And this nail
However deeply it stabs
Or loosely it traps
The litter of dreams
And hopes I've trapped inside,
Gathering them together
To be displayed like
A dying tribute
To a once loved species,
A once treasured creation,
Decides my fate
And traps my destiny.
And though I know the nail
Needs to be removed
To release my heart
Of its futile struggle
To hold a collection
Of dying memories,
Every time I feel the nail loosen
As I've grown to older,
Every time I grab that hammer
And smash it against
That obvious futilit
This isn't the type of love that deserves poetryThis isn't the type of love
that deserves poetry,
born out of an inability
to survive alone,
born from a necessity
to believe in a lie
I'll continue to whisper
in your ear each night.
"I'll protect you"...
A lie neither of us believe
and neither of us dispute
for fear of losing our only tether
to this decrepit existence
that we both fear so much...
this love isn't romantic
nor is it confrontational
its not comforting
nor is it disturbing,
It's merely there
sinking beside us
in the sea of life ,
that's gently drowning us,
we can almost breathe.
MeanI used to live a normal, happy life.
I used to go outside almost all the time.
Until one day…
“He” showed up.
His name is Randal.
A lot of people spread rumours about him.
Some say that he came from the depths of Hell.
Others say that he’s the son of Satan himself.
At first I thought that was a bunch of trash.
But I quickly learned that those rumours might have been true.
For the first 3 weeks, he punished me for every little error he thought I did.
After the 3 weeks were over, I asked him a simple question:
“Why are you so mean?
What have I ever done to deserve such a fate as this?”
He only smiled and laughed at me.
He was never the big talker.
He always let his fists and feet do the talking for him.
Why do you have to be this way?
Is it something that I did?
Was it the way that I drank my water?
Or was it the angle that I flicked my clothes out at?
Those people were right about you.
You truly ARE the son of Satan.
Passage of the Years Dear Titanic, beautiful sister of mine,
I can barely believe it. Today marks the one-hundred and second year you have been the unwilling patron of the sandy sea-floor. One-hundred and two years.... What is it like? It must be so very dark. So very cold. So very lonely... I cannot even imagine how lonely you are. There is no one to keep you company. No one except the 1,500 souls that died with you, that is. Do you still hear their voices echoing within your halls? Do you still hear the disconnected laughter that only spirits of the dead can provide? What is it like? You are falling apart more and more. The sickle of time is having her way
Oh the things I wishStress
Run away to Neverland I must
Free from horror
Free from hell
Free from the devils
Oh the things I wish
A throne of my own
Peaceful music played in the air
Live like a king
Just for the day
So ColdDo you know what you are, Michael?
You are cruel, callous
You claim you are creative
But clearly you cannot be
For you are just cringe-worthy and crass
Worst of all
You are cold
You are so cold that your heart is frozen to its core
You are so cold that your crisp soul chills the world around you
You are cold
You cannot deny it
I am cold
Let me tell you how cold I am
I am as cold as the frost on your window
You would gaze at it wondering what it was
When really it was nothing but a simple pattern of fractals
You added the mystery not I
I am as cold as snow
In a young boy's hand
Clumped into a ball as he throws it to his companion
Whom reciprocates the gesture
As it unfolds into a great battle of primal urges
But of course they see it as nothing more than fun and games
I am as cold as a cliche milkshake completely filled to brim
With two straws for two lovers who care too much
I am as cold as a Winter's lake ice
I may be thick but it is in this that I casually protect on-com
There's A Knock On The Front DoorI heard a knock on the front door,
and I thought it was my soldier,
but it was only a letter
that didn't have a sender;
just an handwritten letter
left by my front door.
There comes a moment in life
where the glass ceiling crumbles and cracks
under the weight of a summer storm,
where the beauty of the world
fades to black and white and gray
as you stare off into the distance
too numb to think
and too shocked to question why.
When everything boils down to a moment -
when your past and your future
collide with each other
and obliterate the present,
when the things you had taken for granted
and you're just left with an empty shell,
a blank easel with no paper to draw on,
while paint is being thrown left and right
but you're untouchable,
just you, pure and white,
yet blacker than the ash you walk on,
the remnants of the explosion
that broke your heart and soul and mind.
That is the feeling
when there's a knock on the front door
and you think that it is your
The Practical List and the Bucket ListWhen I was four years old
My mom and my dad
Told me that I could be
That I could do and be whatever I wanted to
And I believed them.
And other moms and dads
Told their four year olds
The same thing
And those four year olds believed them too.
And when I turned thirteen
The guidance councilor had a one on one with each kid
And she asked:
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
And she handed me a list to choose from and told me to circle one
And I remembered
What my parents said
And I remembered what I wanted
But I didn’t see it on the list
I saw everything but what I wanted
So I asked her what was wrong with the list
And she gave me a steady look
Her glasses dangling on the bridge of her nose
And I raised an eyebrow and said:
“Well, why would anybody ever want to do such boring jobs?”
And she laughed
And she asked:
“Well…what do you want to be?”
And I smiled and said:
“I want to be an arti
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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