ArmageddonBlue's avatar
Wait, what?
9 Watchers3.5K Page Views27 Deviations
H
Hoodoo
Life is erosion. Worn down we walk, until all that remains is hope--like a hand grenade. Now, pull the pin.
0
1
I
In effigy
He climbed the mountain barefoot to shout at the silent sky: HE WAS that HE WAS-- the burning bush his only epitaph. Beneath the bodhi tree the Buddha rests his hand on the ground. He shuffles his slow circles grinding footworn rings into stone comforted by the sollipsistic embrace of a dwindling paycheck while Fame's phantom hounds bite and nip at the heels of Death, hoping to snatch Immortality from His inattentive fingers. On a hill called Golgotha A man named Yeshua cries for his Father. "That little death," she idly said, lying disheveled and naked in his bed, "is all there is." A slow-motion meltdown. "Come," she said
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0
N
No Love Poet
I am no love poet. I have no practice in using words as a vessel to bear honey-colored hope, wonder, awe. How do I explain with lips worn smooth with grief? What words could I speak to part encircling seas of tears? I fear my fumble-fingered foraging inadequate. But if I were to find words to contain those things within me, I could scare restrain them. They would pour out from me, a fountain, and soon I would drift in an ocean of beautiful things and each of them is you.
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0
A
Awake
I woke up early this morning.  I pushed my bedding off my body, and heaved myself out of bed, rolling my shoulders to get my circulation working.  Red shag carpet greeted my bare feet.  I staggered, naked and alone, up the steel stairs of my loft to check my email.  As I reached the third step, I looked up. There is a window in my loft that catches the morning sun perfectly, and this is where I found my eyes drawn; the morning sun pierced the storm clouds left over from the previous evening and lanced through my window straight into my eyes.  It felt like the light passed right through my eyes and into the bony recesses of my seemingly hollo
2
0
D
Desert
Lily's engine hums at 3500 RPM as the road beneath her wheels blurs by at 75 MPH.  The hot desert air whistles past my driver's side mirror.  There isn't another car in sight; only sun-burnt grass, jutting black rock, and a brown haze settled on the horizon.  A year and a half's worth of my life is jammed into the little sports car; a television, textbooks, movies and memories, all somehow crammed into the diminutive black bullet as it speeds down the interstate.  The world is red through my sunglasses. Three days.  Three days was all they had given me.  I was a nuisance, they said: Get out.  Three days to pack, clean and say my goodbyes.  I
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0
C
Cold but clean
All of her courage, and all of her pain fall into darkness, fall into flame. Looking in her naked eyes I see all her tears in pools deep and wide and cold gathered over years. Reading every word of hers repeating her name; the emptiness a blanket covering her pain. She's lost in vaulted corridors in the end, cold but clean; dreaming of the daylight that she has never seen. Wait until darkness, and then we shall see her rise above the darkness cold inside, but clean.
0
0
H
Hope
I have no meter no rhyme only a handful of words to convey my astonishment. It's like a perfect summer afternoon where the sky is blue and the light in the kitchen a glowing amber and children are laughing and running through water sprinklers with wild abandon and there are friends in the forest waiting to spend the incandescent night together and war and age and disease and hunger will never touch any of them ever again and finally each broken heart will have time enough to mend and each lover will have time enough to love and each student will have time enough to learn and most important of all everything will be okay. Fore
1
2
A
A promise kept
Your first breath was a promise; everything you never wanted will be yours while the only thing you crave will always be                           beyond reach. You seemed to intuit this as your eyes opened to the light of the world for the first time and all you could do was cry at the realization.
0
1
D
Deconstructed
The workers came at night, in a line of trucks that twisted off into obscurity. Sober-faced and sun-browned, they leaped from the beds of their vehicles as they stopped, each wearing a belt heavy with tools, a weather-beaten hardhat, and worn, muddied boots. They gathered and, like ants, crawled over, around and into the structure, carrying chop saws, cutting torches and drills. Men with rolled sheets of paper in their hands and radios on their belts shouted orders above the shriek of cutting metal. Cranes followed the trucks and hoisted themselves into the sky, one vertebra at a time, until they towered above the structure. Workers careful
0
3
I
It was no lie
"I love you," he lies as she rests her cheek on his chest, and with a contented sigh she draws patterns with her fingers on his skin. He looks up at the ceiling before closing his eyes for a while, resignedly stealing a few moments of lonesome peace. He goes home that night. It's late, and cold, and dark. He can't seem to find the right key, and no one answers his knock. He left it with her. Even in the cold night's embrace, there's nothing to spur his return to such a smothering place. He curls up and sleeps by the door. He wakes to her touch. "You left your keys." She kisses him. He despairs of ever having so much as a d
0
0
See all
H
Hoodoo
Life is erosion. Worn down we walk, until all that remains is hope--like a hand grenade. Now, pull the pin.
0
1
I
In effigy
He climbed the mountain barefoot to shout at the silent sky: HE WAS that HE WAS-- the burning bush his only epitaph. Beneath the bodhi tree the Buddha rests his hand on the ground. He shuffles his slow circles grinding footworn rings into stone comforted by the sollipsistic embrace of a dwindling paycheck while Fame's phantom hounds bite and nip at the heels of Death, hoping to snatch Immortality from His inattentive fingers. On a hill called Golgotha A man named Yeshua cries for his Father. "That little death," she idly said, lying disheveled and naked in his bed, "is all there is." A slow-motion meltdown. "Come," she said
0
0
N
No Love Poet
I am no love poet. I have no practice in using words as a vessel to bear honey-colored hope, wonder, awe. How do I explain with lips worn smooth with grief? What words could I speak to part encircling seas of tears? I fear my fumble-fingered foraging inadequate. But if I were to find words to contain those things within me, I could scare restrain them. They would pour out from me, a fountain, and soon I would drift in an ocean of beautiful things and each of them is you.
0
0
A
Awake
I woke up early this morning.  I pushed my bedding off my body, and heaved myself out of bed, rolling my shoulders to get my circulation working.  Red shag carpet greeted my bare feet.  I staggered, naked and alone, up the steel stairs of my loft to check my email.  As I reached the third step, I looked up. There is a window in my loft that catches the morning sun perfectly, and this is where I found my eyes drawn; the morning sun pierced the storm clouds left over from the previous evening and lanced through my window straight into my eyes.  It felt like the light passed right through my eyes and into the bony recesses of my seemingly hollo
2
0
D
Desert
Lily's engine hums at 3500 RPM as the road beneath her wheels blurs by at 75 MPH.  The hot desert air whistles past my driver's side mirror.  There isn't another car in sight; only sun-burnt grass, jutting black rock, and a brown haze settled on the horizon.  A year and a half's worth of my life is jammed into the little sports car; a television, textbooks, movies and memories, all somehow crammed into the diminutive black bullet as it speeds down the interstate.  The world is red through my sunglasses. Three days.  Three days was all they had given me.  I was a nuisance, they said: Get out.  Three days to pack, clean and say my goodbyes.  I
0
0
C
Cold but clean
All of her courage, and all of her pain fall into darkness, fall into flame. Looking in her naked eyes I see all her tears in pools deep and wide and cold gathered over years. Reading every word of hers repeating her name; the emptiness a blanket covering her pain. She's lost in vaulted corridors in the end, cold but clean; dreaming of the daylight that she has never seen. Wait until darkness, and then we shall see her rise above the darkness cold inside, but clean.
0
0
H
Hope
I have no meter no rhyme only a handful of words to convey my astonishment. It's like a perfect summer afternoon where the sky is blue and the light in the kitchen a glowing amber and children are laughing and running through water sprinklers with wild abandon and there are friends in the forest waiting to spend the incandescent night together and war and age and disease and hunger will never touch any of them ever again and finally each broken heart will have time enough to mend and each lover will have time enough to love and each student will have time enough to learn and most important of all everything will be okay. Fore
1
2
A
A promise kept
Your first breath was a promise; everything you never wanted will be yours while the only thing you crave will always be                           beyond reach. You seemed to intuit this as your eyes opened to the light of the world for the first time and all you could do was cry at the realization.
0
1
D
Deconstructed
The workers came at night, in a line of trucks that twisted off into obscurity. Sober-faced and sun-browned, they leaped from the beds of their vehicles as they stopped, each wearing a belt heavy with tools, a weather-beaten hardhat, and worn, muddied boots. They gathered and, like ants, crawled over, around and into the structure, carrying chop saws, cutting torches and drills. Men with rolled sheets of paper in their hands and radios on their belts shouted orders above the shriek of cutting metal. Cranes followed the trucks and hoisted themselves into the sky, one vertebra at a time, until they towered above the structure. Workers careful
0
3
I
It was no lie
"I love you," he lies as she rests her cheek on his chest, and with a contented sigh she draws patterns with her fingers on his skin. He looks up at the ceiling before closing his eyes for a while, resignedly stealing a few moments of lonesome peace. He goes home that night. It's late, and cold, and dark. He can't seem to find the right key, and no one answers his knock. He left it with her. Even in the cold night's embrace, there's nothing to spur his return to such a smothering place. He curls up and sleeps by the door. He wakes to her touch. "You left your keys." She kisses him. He despairs of ever having so much as a d
0
0
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Sep 9
United States
Deviant for 15 years
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Enough.
Walking away from 26 years of devotion can't begin to compare with the day I walked away from myself.
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No words.
I've nothing particularly great to write here.  Just wanting to put a buffer between the Me that wrote the last string of journal entries and the Me that's writing this one.  He was not okay, and I'd rather he stayed away :|.
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0
Someday, I will become my parents
Someday, I will find a woman to barely tolerate and be barely tolerated by in return. Someday, I will find myself caught in a dead-end job at the ass-end of a dead-end career, to pay for the family I barely tolerate. Someday, I will have a string of employment problems that prevent me from saving any sort of decent retirement. Someday, I will realize that I squandered the little opportunity I had because I was trapped by mental health issues. Someday, I will have nothing to look forward to, at all. Thank god for masturbation.
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Comments12

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ArmageddonBlue's avatar
Absolutely :).

I recognized the font, incidentally; I think the source is what sold me most.
Reply  ·  
FisherPoetry's avatar
im absolutely fascinated by your writing and views on life!
Reply  ·  
ArmageddonBlue's avatar
Thank you! Can you explain what exactly it is that draws you so? Perhaps I can point my writing in that direction.
Reply  ·  
FisherPoetry's avatar
hmmm, i dont believe i understand..
Reply  ·  
ArmageddonBlue's avatar
I was just interested in what it was that fascinated you :)
Reply  ·  
SvenMueller's avatar
SvenMueller|Professional Photographer
Thanks for the :+fav: on My Mind! :w00t:
Reply  ·