My Constantinople, iScribbles lie onMore Like This
The passing book
is a nomad.
cross plains of
Mountains are pastel
Boxes of pine
as monuments to
Pillows brood as
They lay such
illusions on to
steal the cold
watch it smother.
croons a cranial
into the night.
flirts, fails, cries
over its lover
(a miniature sun goddess)
decides to dance
of a fly
plays to the
of stained glass,
the tears of
with my lungs.
lies like a
Knock, snuffle, slept.
3 months already!Been 3 months I've subscribed to DA and started sharing my photosMore Like This
I think it made me braver somehow~
I've always been the kind to believe 'this photo won't do' or 'this is not good enough' ... now I'm rather 'people, I'm proud of what I'm doing! Give it a try!'
Well, it still takes me a lot of time to consider posting a photo lol, but I'm sure I became braver!
Maybe... maybe even better
I mean, trying to post one photo everyday, but also practicing everyday, getting new gears, looking around at what people on DA like to see or try to do... all this is a wonderful experience for now! I feel inspired, I feel blessed and happy when I get good words, comments or even a 'favorite' - my heart still jumps around whenever it happens lol - and I also feel supported.
Of course, everything is not that 'happy'.
I wonder about more things concerning photography or even social networks like DA or 500px or whatever their names... sometimes feeling that I'm not 'communicative' enough to share
Blank CanvassesPeople are born asMore Like This
Every person met adds
A little color to the masterpiece
That no amount of smearing
Or white paint can hide.
Everyone's dyes are arranged
In different patterns and pictures,
But in the end,
Everyone is still a blank canvass
Today's WealthIf I had a dollar for every lieMore Like This
I'd be a millionaire in an instant
Honesty not a practice in this time
Deception's method, false sincerity
If I had chocolate for every insult
I'd own a dozen years' supply of it
Kindness barely an answer anymore
Taking down potential, destroying dreams
If I had books for every obsession
I'd be able to open libraries
Moderation not practice for many
Worldly desire, now a priority
If I had a seed for every sin done
I'd plant a forest to relieve worry
For the world smells of selfishness around
And so I wonder, where can I find love?
Abstract Whoever said the world was poured into a glass?More Like This
Whoever pointed out the cracks and said they were not supposed to be there?
In the time it took to say hello, the world sent ten billion airwaves filled with radio signals. In the second after all hell broke loose. A smile so powerful it could turn night to day wrenched into the threshold, breaking the nails with every creep. The lights bent at the cracks and prismed into forty different colors of a black star. There slept the door to the house, out on the couch in a sprawledout-strungout way. The death of a thousand suns took me years to apprehend. Yet all the while the birds in the trees rested their dirges on the roof. I don't mean to be tense, but the past has intertwined with the future in a blur of our present.
Whoever said I couldn't take a thousand years in a single stride?