Rant is a funny word.
Classically funny,
meaning unusual.
Not 'haha'
"I'm laughing so much I'm crying"
funny.
Don't be fucking stupid.
Why would the word
rant
be 'haha'
funny?
Idiot...
No, it's intriguingly
beguiling on the grounds
that for years
man has
regarded ranting
as raving
forgetting the
grace it's saving.
Passion.
"What reason weaves
by passion is undone."
A man without reason
is not a man without
passion.
Don't assume aggression,
instead use your perception
to understand this vindication.
All that said,
you will need preparation,
and heed desperation,
before you feel the perspiration
as you say your
Describe with your best interests
at heart and
find for me without part
nor fear.
Can you hold a
candle to me,
can you hold me dear?
Despising the lies
pouring in your ears.
These teething problems,
without rhyme nor
reason glide over you.
They sink into me,
bring me to the brink of me,
and cut me to the core.
Blind-folded and broken,
I travel alone on this road
this road made of cold.
Hard like your heart,
hard like your stare,
and hard like my reply.
"Who am I?"
This inward pressure
resulting from
unnecessary exposure
sends resentment
from my mental encampment;
enchambered and endearing
begging the question
w
Kandid Kamera Kolonoscopy by BrandonMarlo, literature
Literature
Kandid Kamera Kolonoscopy
Poetry variety
society sobriety
is antiquated, lacerated,
visceral incinerated
at a landmark book burn
Freedom/Potted fern
on your wedding day, holy fig
You're too low to notice this
now half-rhyme, double time.
Strike a chord, be mine.
Fluffy dreams, scaly night
this autotrophic parasite,
Burn in Hell or slightly fall,
swallow whole the parasol.
But dare he notice, watch and wait
heart and soul eviscerate.
Manic panic violent crime,
apple orchards, just be mine.
Promise me this:
Be you.
Not the you you insist upon
sharing to this daring,
uncaring, and as far as I can see
ensnaring world.
but the person you let me see.
the person who also
dwells, herself, within me.
The refreshing spirit of
"Why not?" ought to deal
a solid grounding,
make you feel free,
get your heart pounding.
But instead
you don't
you're dead
dead inside and scared
scared of this world
Just please promise me you'll consider it.
Social conformity
and self-deprocating apathy
go hand in hand
with a sickening entreaty
which suggests for all moral
and ethical sympathies
you feel unacceptable
in modern society.
Describe with your best interests
at heart and
find for me without part
nor fear.
Can you hold a
candle to me,
can you hold me dear?
Despising the lies
pouring in your ears.
These teething problems,
without rhyme nor
reason glide over you.
They sink into me,
bring me to the brink of me,
and cut me to the core.
Blind-folded and broken,
I travel alone on this road
this road made of cold.
Hard like your heart,
hard like your stare,
and hard like my reply.
"Who am I?"
This inward pressure
resulting from
unnecessary exposure
sends resentment
from my mental encampment;
enchambered and endearing
begging the question
w
Kandid Kamera Kolonoscopy by BrandonMarlo, literature
Literature
Kandid Kamera Kolonoscopy
Poetry variety
society sobriety
is antiquated, lacerated,
visceral incinerated
at a landmark book burn
Freedom/Potted fern
on your wedding day, holy fig
You're too low to notice this
now half-rhyme, double time.
Strike a chord, be mine.
Fluffy dreams, scaly night
this autotrophic parasite,
Burn in Hell or slightly fall,
swallow whole the parasol.
But dare he notice, watch and wait
heart and soul eviscerate.
Manic panic violent crime,
apple orchards, just be mine.
Once upon a time...
There was
A boy who wanted to know
To climb
so high
and see
so far
in the swaying light
of the evening,
To watch the ice flows
in their great dance behind the horizon,
To smell the fragrance of wood smoke
curling across the water in the night air.
To never accept the end of the journey.
(for there is no end, and no home port,
not truly).
There is a green island in the midst of the great ocean
which used to b
We stand upon the verge,
we two.
Treading
cautious steps on eggshells.
Wandering a tiny spit of sand, half-oblivious
to the indifferent
relentless sea
which steals our safety, grain
by grain.
We stand up
Current Residence: Trapped in a miasma of a horrendous soul. Favourite genre of music: Anything except for Rap, Hip-Hop or Dance Trance etc which has far to many high notes Operating System: XP XP (the second one is an emoticon) MP3 player of choice: Of choice would be an i-Pod, but im one of these too poor to afford one, so im stuck with an old one Shell of choice: Shiny ones you find on the beach Wallpaper of choice: Flock wallpaper is nice, but a bitch to clean Skin of choice: Mine preferably Favourite cartoon character: Dante the Racist Badger (from the Mighty Boosh) Personal Quote: <insert witty comment here. i genrerally don't repeat myself>
Favourite Movies
I have too many to name
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Several Bands really, nothing of particular descrimination
Haven't been on here in a LONG time but I've been busy. I'm still writing and drawing on a daily basis, so when I do upload, you will get a LOT of stuff to look through. Aren't you lucky...
Anyhoo, I'm working through a couple of ideas for pieces of physical art which involve me and various unwitting strangers. If only I could get hold of some sort of leather. Maybe if I butcher a bag or a jacket... Still, any donations of random scraps of leather/old leather sofas/old coats/bags/leather anything, let me know please!
Other than my desperate leather requirement (which reminds me, I didn't specify how much I'd need. Um... maybe a few feet squ
A store that sells new husbands has opened in London, where a woman may go to choose a husband. Among the instructions at the entrance is a description of how the store operates:
You may visit this store ONLY ONCE! There are six floors and the value of the products increase as the shopper ascends the flights. HOWEVER, the shopper may choose any item from a particular floor, or may choose to go up to the next floor, but you cannot go back down except to exit the building!
So, a woman goes to the Husband Store to find a husband.
On the first floor the sign on the door reads:
Floor 1 - These men Have Jobs.
She is intrigued, but continues t
It's been a rollercoaster, but it all came together. I'm not sure if you get the updates for when I edit deviations anymore, so I'm writing it here that chapter 3 entitled "Open the Door" is now complete. Here is a link below.
http://brandonmarlo.deviantart.com/art/Open-the-Door-122268104
EDIT: used to say "not complete" when it clearly is lol.