Dead Men LieIt's been two days since I removed your headMore Like This
Yet still, you speak to me.
I hear you whisper my name,
it slithers through your lips glistening with corruption,
like a newborn babe swaddled in slime.
I shiver as I hear the syllables
slipping, tripping over your dead tongue.
Ever the linguist, even now you torture me,
but you must see
your head is mine, my trophy.
I spent endless hours exacting my revenge,
eventually I grew tired as you grew cold,
and hewed your betraying head from your liars neck.
So, shut your foul rotting lips!
No longer do I wish to hear their lies
Be still, your slug-like tongue!
Soon even you will see this is the end, I have won.
But please, by all means until that day,
continue whispering to me the lies that dead men say.
Find Me Revampedmisplaced within a maze of my own makingMore Like This
wandering worlds passed me by
and I attempted to hitchhike, thumb out
skirt hiked up to my thigh
high, on the possibilities
as worlds passed me by
rides came and went, haltingly
they rode me,
carved concentric circles in my heart
I often wonder if you cut it open,
could you find my age?
count the rings
see the past in years of etched pain...
it's my fault to hold
you see I learn from repetition
from beating my head against the fists of love,
those beloved worlds of promised love
and I play marbles
crashing my worlds into each other
creating black holes
vacuums of nothing
that spit me out to wander, wonder again
in the maze of my own mind
I laugh, I cry,
I stick my thumb back out
hike my skirt up that same thigh
high, to wait excitedly
for my next world to pass by
in hope that,
someday the right world will find me
lost within the maze of my own mind
Winner Apo Challenge #34This week again only 3 entries and it as such a nice Challenge!More Like This
So all Apo-fractalists join the :iconApo-Weekly-Challenge: !!
It was all about Fractal Manipulations and yes... I won again!
HerHer ( 1990's )More Like This
How do you love without showing?
How do you feel without someone else knowing?
How do you reach without anyone to touch?
How do you stop emotion too much?
How do you care without expressing yourself?
How do you store your feelings on the shelf?
How do you act like you really don't care?
This is really too much for my heart to bear.
It is frustrating when you can't say how you feel.
It's like shuffling cards, then not being able to deal.
I don't know how long this will last.
But the feelings grow stronger and move very fast.
If I let this build up, I will explode.
Everything will be revealed, I will unload.
If that happens all will be lost.
I can't afford that, there's too much at cost.
My heart tells me one thing, my mind yet another.
I don't even know if I should bother.
How do I know what to do?
What do I feel about someone like you?
Can she love the same as me?
I will have to wait patiently.
Does she care for me at all?
If she doesn't I might very well fall.
Just In CaseShe reached for her mirror beside the stack of books, and began the ritual. Check the eyes, check the ears, check the face, check the hair. Looking decent enough for the kitchen made no sense, but she always felt it best, just in case. Just in case someone watched her through the kitchen window, or her doorbell rang at 7:30 in the morning, or any number of improbable circumstances. I must always be presentable.More Like This
Setting the mirror back down carefully, she breathed out a sigh of acceptance, a promise to make this day more special than the last. Pulling aside the bedspread, she slid her legs out, and moved her feet comfortably into her slippers.
The coffee seemed to make itself, the way she moved so quickly around the kitchen, not even thinking any more of where the various parts were hidden away. The filters, the coffee, the sugar, and the cream. In just a few minutes' time, her toast was up and her coffee poured.
She sat dow
No LimitsThe rightness of circlesMore Like This
The authority of the square
The force of nature
And the footsteps on the stairs
The beauty of a painting
And the mess
Of cut and paste
The harmony of the music
Has not been laid to waste
I do a simple drawing
With sharp pencils so fair
And leave the constraning borders
That I trace upon so bare
Of forks, knifes, and spoonsOf forks, knifes, and spoons,More Like This
Forks can be used to play tunes.
Of spoons, knifes, and forks,
Spoons can be used to pry off corks.
Of forks, spoons, and knifes,
Knives can be used to take lives.
DescendSomething dark and something coldMore Like This
like iron gripped my soul
and in the chains I was shackled
Two halves, once a whole.
Grim and cruel was the dungeon
that was created by my mind
in which love and loss battled
but remained intertwined.
And in the end it was clear
that love could never win
that loss presides over all
my dark dungeon, wherein.
But in the final moments
of their battle in my head
love took leave and descended
to reside in my heart instead.
You-Me-Me-YouLove me and kill meMore Like This
Hold me and thrill me
I want to be by your side
Reject you then accept you
Condemn you then commend you
As the whore becomes the bride
Tire me but inspire me
Strain me but train me
I may be alive to tell
Deny you or amaze you
Curse you or praise you
As evil turns the earth to hell
As the fire in my heart burns out
Lose you or find you
Muse you or mind you
I try and cast away this doubt
Warn me but transform me
Misconstrue me but renew me
As I understand the light
Resent you then represent you
Ban you then demand you
I want to make the world bright
Forgive me and see me
Save me and free me
Collection: Ghostly ApparitionsMore Like This
Photographers today seek mainly to create ghostly effects with their cameras.
In the earliest days of photography, the hope was that actual ghosts would be captured on film, proof for the believers. It would be shutter speed that would finally capture that moment of space–time intersection between our earthly realm and the spectral plane of the dead. The results have never been definitive, but artistically, ghostly imagery, through a camera lens or from an artist’s pencils or palette, can be quite captivating.
“Now it is the time of night
That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite
In the church–way paths to glid