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(noun) - Contrast is a principle of art. When defining it, art experts refer to the arrangement of opposite elements (light vs. dark colors, rough vs. smooth textures, large vs. small shapes, etc.) in a piece so as to create visual interest, excitement and drama.
ValentinaI drove all night
I did not want to get home
I wanted to flee my life
I drove for hours
In a dark street
I have met a woman
Her nickname was Valentina
Her name was a secret
The hotel was shabby
Valentina was naked before me
Her breast strained by the cold
The night was amazing
She was very hot
valentina was young and pretty
Her freshness, her smile
One night with her and I found a little oxygen in this monotony
EvermoreI walked the border of happiness,
Always looking in,
watching as people danced and sang
their merry nights to end.
I walked amongst the embers,
of great fires now asleep,
left over from the festives,
at which my soul was the feast.
I walked along the waters,
from waterfalls they pour,
unrelenting in its stream,
releasing my sorrow evermore.
I walked across the earth,
of those laid to rest,
ashen pillars which all but one,
do not mark my happiness.
The Gathering!Under cypress tree, when moon is high
Spirits gather, hear collective sigh
Cemetery arisen, short hours of bliss
Dearly departed create ghostly mist.
Nebulous night walkers mean no harm
Our presence detected, they'll raise alarm
Collective reminder of what use to be
Distant past calls, no future they see.
World changed face, so many times
Mounting fear from grave they climb
What is this world? impossibly new
Lost their place how strange the view.
Underworld is now their domain
Time has come and gone, no pain
Dreams don't invade, no tears to weep
Spirits consoled, eternal sleep.
Why I Stopped WritingHere's a little story about me,
about my skill to paint a grim little scene,
to make the mind creak,
to talk of those things which we don't like to speak.
I was a girl of sixteen and I had a dream,
to exist so broken hearted that I would know,
know to the core,
that love was as real as I thought it should have been.
I was dramatic to say the least and wrote poems spanning ages,
wrote of crashed cars and seeing those eyes again later,
FEELING that stare,
knowing that though time had passed,
he'd not actually gone anywhere.
English class came,
seemed so lame,
most days in the back with the boys,
getting out of work with the most clever ploys.
Then one day the teacher said,
we could share our writing,
with all the others,
to my in
RedefinedA battle lost
A white flag thrown on a field stained by bloody tears
People have no meaning any more
Eyes show the truth to the lies they spin like webs
I choose surrender rather than put you out of your misery
No more of your fear-fueled deceits
No more watching you waste your lives
Obsessed with consuming
Ignoring what is really important
Now I choose to live in this self-made cave
I choose to no longer participate in society
I choose to become my art,
become my words,
live by my morals...
... as antiquated as they are
The dream of many but embraced