|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Spam Poetry 2prize above on telling here a button
buy me directly on new years
gift food payment by survey
vision for Spam card
delivered to VISA
Reality InvertedJump through the mirror...
and from the other side take a look.
What would it be like to see the evil you?
How might opposites change the rulebook?
You might go from pauper to prince,
Or lose everything you have in a day.
When you step into the alternate
History is come-what-may.
Maybe in this universe you made a mistake,
And you're six feet under a flowerbed.
Or perhaps everything went great,
And from a silver spoon you're fed.
Or perhaps you're in a place,
Where your parents never met
How odd to see a world you're not
Cause your parents run a different duet.
There's no limit to the alternates you may see,
As the mirror continues to distort
How many versions of you will you see,
As the universes continues to contort?
Watch me jump, change, and shift
And my reality completely rearrange...
You may think you know all the answers.
Do you know how the questions have changed?
Symmetry is overrated
And I'm just about to crack
I can't handle living in theory
I wanna go back!
Jump back through
ClicheThe patient in the hospital
He got all bent out of shape
And hurt his lower back
Now they're going to operate
The doctor was a new one
Confused on what was the goal
He operated on the spine from his little toe
And tore the guy a new a$$hole
The doctor didn't clean up or disinfect
And left the scalpel inside his chest
They sewed him up like Frankenstein
And so he never woke up from his rest
He now lays in the morgue
A scalpel stuck in some part
The coroner wrote the death certificate
"Died of a bleeding, broken heart"
Nothing is cliche when it happens to you...
Spam PoetryYou may qualify to earn a degree
Update payment to our beneficiary
A legit work-at-home opportunity
A dental plan you can afford actually
Click here for Social Security Disability
Pilgrimage v8Poet, you must see
A clearing in the deep woods
Far above the Earth
The sun with me for one day
Rises higher into the east
Over the mountains
A terrain of green and white
Leaves ride high up on the wind
Controlled by the rushing breeze
Far from the city
Where the golden river flows
By the crooked path
Where the deep green leaves rustle
As the breeze sweeps my front porch
Near the apple tree
The jade fountain is silent
As the sun rises
A pirate buried treasure
Where the river makes a curve
Birds rest in the trees
Where filtered sunlight slips through
In the morning sun
Poets argue over chess
In their own special manner
Pale orchid blooming
Safe among the ancient pines
...how precious the hours!
The time passes so quickly
A child becomes a man
One lingering star
Turns the landscape golden red
...flowers in shadow
Flies zig-zag in the sunlight
Dancing with their own shadow
Beyond the dark trees
Rose petals drift on the fog
Treetops in the clouds
A field of fine cotton
BeccaliciousThere once was a girl named Beccalicious
Who's ability to rhyme seemed quite suspicious
Said she: There's no reason to feel fright
I just want you to try and write
So pick up your pencil and be ambitious
Bloom With A SmileA plant gives its life to produce some seeds
Overcoming insects, drought, bad soil, and weeds
And then those seeds begin to blow
Surviving animals, disease, and the cold winter's snow
On an awesome spring day, one seed finds a home
Right next to a manhole, so far it did roam
In a tiny bit of soil, this seed was planted
Not one speck of moisture did it take for granted
It scrimped and it saved the energy that it had
The intensive heat from the asphalt was so bad
And with the toxins and the exhaust from the buses and cars
It might have been better to live in the atmosphere of Mars
And yet each day it struggled, and it continued to grow
Despite being stepped on, and taking many a blow
And with the help of its friends, the sun and the rain
The little plant endured, through all of the pain
Often it thought it would be better to dry up and blow away
But the those loving friends made things better so it could stay
Its two leaves became four, and four became eight
Some days were awful, some da
Change this lifeHiding in the shadows
Resisting in secrecy
Trying to find a way
To change this life of misery
The future is unknown
The past is to forget
The present is dull and boring
Is this what life has to offer?
I want to change
And I keep trying
Only to fail miserabily
Every single time
eight ways you've made me small1. I wish
this was for you.
2. my journal pages - the
brown one with all our monologues -
were jarred with hollow vows of
last poems of
letting you slip into a coma
of bad memories, watching you
fall to your death off
a cascading cliff of disease
and dis ease.
it was never
easy for me
3. there's a reason I ask
whether you're grey
(dark white, elusively black, in between)
or blue (behind the clouds, under wave-foam,
whateverthefuck runs through the back of my
palms); I'd rather have
than the arms
that once held you half-
heartedly. you had always been
my harmony and I
would have killed
to have been yours.
4. it could never have been just me, the way
it could never have been just
5. disasters are not beautiful,
but how is it that you
managed to make my inner linings
converge into bows
and explode into wings the very
night you decided to rebuild your walls
to a lower height?
6. I wish
A lifeA life
when i stimulated the prayers of rib-beat
when i licked the temple of my teeth,
speed pushed my fingers shaped like confessionals
clasped holy, carved my throat to fixing-
lover; i did this for the anthem of your eyes,
the feel of strangled feet crushing the fame of stars
for the glow of streetlight worship, for the moons
of your crooning throat, for the halls of your arms,
the strayed revels of your arms,
lover: you manufactured a god out of the drugs i used
and had me addicted to the divine, to the dignity of music
you pressed in my direction: just what i am, hallelujah,
marijuana, day and night-
lover, i fell in love with your culture
that preached the real definition of dusked kneecaps,
the plea of closeted throats, the whisper of bless,
unlearning how to say please god in borrowed tongue,
i fell in love with your attention, nervous grace
lover. i levied the rubble of my sins
Even The City KnowsIs it at all easy?
Being by yourself, I mean.
Sitting in a car, on a train, on a bus--wherever you might be now, isn't it hard to be a drifter?
There are no men with newspapers, no women with strollers, no love-crazy teenagers, no annoying toddlers, no anybody.
You stare out the window, like there are people out there, calling your name. The trees are out there, and they've lost all their leaves, all their buds--they've lost everything, just like you.
The sky is out there, and it's gray and colorless, just like you.
The stars are out there, and they're so blown-out-of-proportion, and they're just like you, too.
But the trees, the skies, the stars, they're used to being left alone.
You lack the ebullience of your drink, but it, too, is fading.
Frost has gathered on windows, on the ground, on rivers, everywhere.
Frost comes and goes, just like you, when you finally melt away.
The city draws to darkness and quiet--it disappears, just like you.
But, even frost
on bradbury and table dancingYou are not a wordsmith
whatever you might like to think. ('Smith'
indicates precision and coldness and fire:
words are softer than that unless you mold them strong.)
It's a difficult road to follow, and not many
make it past the fork. Choose a path,
Janus says, whirligig keys spinning on his shoulders:
I am a wordworker, with my tools too crude, forming
rough-edged carvings painted with pretty imagery.
Notebooks scattered across the landscape
of a child's room, to be stumbled across,
read, red-penned, in the thick and choking breath of night.
When the bough breaks
a hanged man laughs. He carries typewriters
in his pockets, and cigarettes in the soles of his shoes.
I will never be a word mistress,
whoring myself to the speech of people I do not know and will never know me.
The oven is set to Fahrenheit 452, but the words were already aflame
before they ever took shape under your tongue.
You love everything they've ever written, and carry
unabashed loathing for every syllabl
Synesthesia - III have learned not to say
when your voice burns under my tongue -
learned not to shiver
at the cold of sirens on the street -
learned not to describe
the pricks and strokes and touches.
I have learned that skin cannot hear,
nor ears feel
(whichever it is).
How strange to think:
I may travel all my life
and never find a lover who can hold my laugh in his palms.
Death to the LoversHe screamed,
He tore his hair from his scalp;
But it didn't bring her back.
The beautiful girl
With the gorgeous smile
And witty remarks
Would always lay six feet under.
She would lie in her death bed,
Her arms folded on her chest
And her face full of peace
Known only to the dead.
He would be the first to rot.
First his health,
Then his sanity.
She would forever feed on his emotions
Like a pretty little leech,
Sapping his well being
And happiness from her underground world.
And he would let her,
For a fool like him
Who allowed himself to love,
Void - The Daylight RemixThe Void Stares Back (The Daylight Remix)
Written by Sean Murphy
©Copyright 2005 by Sean Murphy, All Rights Reserved
The darkest moments of my life
Eagerly awaiting the final silence
My dreams melting in my hands
Facing new predicaments
I don't know who I am
All that's been stripped by the blight
I don't where I'm going.
I just know where I am tonight.
You still think I can live happily ever after,
I just don't see how you know
I'm not well over here.
Watching you enjoy life is a torment apropos.
I can't sleep for the stress on me...
You're too far away to reach
I cry in my room, lonely, terrified...
Can you tell me where I am? I beseech
I stare into the void
And the void stares back
I've lost all hope at this lowest point
Everything is painted black
Taste the sky and join me in the wind
Come see the antonym of night…
The morning rays split the clouds apart
Come to save me from my plight
Bring some color into my life
Daylight comes after everything comes to an end
When I can't g
Dreams of realityA pair of eyes;
Open and stare through the lights,
Into the darkness of doom.
And yet they smile,
Yet they smile.
A drop of tear;
Seeps through the garden of death;
Falls to the mortal soil.
Dreams and desires will blend again,
To render the roses alive.
I am floating through a vision.
Like ripples, floating through the pond of life.
Can reality be so real?
Let me drown again,
Into the silence of familiar noise.
As I wander through the lanes of reason and passion.
The flame of hope burns bright,
Drenched in the colors of freedom.
So let my dreams unravel my soul,
As darkness fades away;
And let mortality draw me closer to destiny.
As these pair of eyes,
Open to stare through the lights again.
Is this reality?
Can reality be so real?
Time passes by, as the eyes keep staring;
Staring at the distant lights;
Staring beyond the distant skies.
What do they see?
What do they long?
What do they desire?
Then the skies will break down;
White lightning striking the dreamy clouds.
Moments will tur
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More