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cabaret de septiembre, lluvia de agostoElla se desmorona tras el escenario
golpea la puerta, y cae
la lluvia limpia su figura fragil
contorno cubierto de sangre, sudor y semen
El intento del diluvio azota sus oidos, su mente
panorama en blanco, devoide de presencia o emocion
tiempo y espacio no logran conciliar
las gotas se comienzan a permear
Una mano la jala hacia adentro de nuevo
la explosion de luces y musica hace de su mente rota
anfitriona de una orgia sensorial pseudosinestesica
estatica ensordecedora, calor sofocante
Sus parpados se abren despues de lo que parece ser eternidad
es su habitacion, sudor recorriendola enteramente
el aroma de perfume es casi acosador
un escalofrio la recorre en su interior
Siente un dedo recorrerla, y desfilar sus curvas
el toque es desnudante, sobrecogedor
siente los pechos de ella presionar detras de su espalda
las dos siguen en sus atuendos de cabaret y la lluvia persiste.
Inspiration - I need itRarity was drunk off her ass, she tripped over Opal and fell off the balcony.
Fortunately, Pinkie Pie was strolling below, and she caught her thanks to her mystical clairvoyance.
"Oh dar*HIC*ling!" her hiccupping making Pinkie Pie's retina boil at at least 5000 degrees FUCKenheit.
Via Lactea - Hemorragia existencialHechos a mano por sangre del creador
vagando eternamente en este vacío sideral
la vida llena del estopor mortal
original? no, del placer terrenal
meto mi mano a este enorme costal
en el encuentro que al final
yo, nosotros, ellos,
entre tantos nunca hubo distinción
Escondes esa ira detrás de una mascara de falsa cordialidad
tensión, conflictos sin resolver, discutes con el espejo
bajo la luz crepuscular del atardecer postrado tras el ventanal
sufrimiento traspapelado en la oficina del dolor registrado infernal
Una absorción etérea llena la habitación
vivimos para nuestra eterna salvación?
o solo para librarnos de esta temporal maldición
a la cual llamamos vida, eterno dilema y aparición
del cáncer existencial que he de presenciar, apareciese
la completa y a la vez parcial obstinación
El sufrimiento que ves? una mera abreviacion
Cede ante la presión de nuestra libertad de albedrío.
Sangra en el vientre materno y eterno
the shades and contrasts of life
tools, path to the understanding of everyday
nonsense in the air, doubt in the water, fear in my food
paranoia, the spider that creeps in the dark
brain is the messiest playground of our lives
a jungle of confusion
don't fixate on death, the eery end
you're just living on a locked mansion
she's the one with the key
Drabblematic -Big Mac x Denton
1000 LAM Oh My Gods
J.C. Denton paced lustfully back and forth. Castrated dread filled his heart. Big Mac should have been home at least an hour ago and it wasn't like him to be late. Oh, my pubic love, J.C. Denton thought. Where could you be?
Just then, the phone rang. It was the police. Big Mac had been taken hostage by Indecent Stealth Pistol, a supervillain who had the city in a state of delicious terror. J.C. Denton fainted dead away, What a shame.
When he came to, there was a bump on his unshorn fetlocks and the castrated dread had returned. "Big Mac, my augmented honey bunny," he cried out swiftly. "What is Indecent Stealth Pistol doing to you?" Probably torturing him, laughing harmoniously as he fornicated him in the sunglasses.
In the midst of all the terror and tears, J.C. Denton remembered a story his grandmother had told him. If you fold 1000 LAM Oh my Gods, then whatever you wish for will come true.
J.C. Denton ordered in a supply of LAM and set to work, folding Oh my Gods
Obscuridad, penumbra, la luz incapaz de penetrar en tal confin
mi caminar por este lugar es irracional, ¿por qué estoy aqui?
pregunto al vacio, y me contesta con un silencio tan frio como el aire de la noche
eterna, como la muerte, pareciese como si nunca fuese a terminar.
Gelida tormenta, me hiela hasta el alma, por un momento crei sentir la nostalgia al estar vivo
todo ha cambiado, el rio de no existir inunda no en temor o en angustia, si no en una especie de paz
una paz que es morbidamente quieta
No hay dolor, pero tampoco placer
encadenado a la monotonía de este silencio, dar el mas pequeño paso es casi imposible con estas aguas
el dejar de respirar no parece hacer diferencia alguna
Caigo... y caigo... para nunca volver a levantarme
este abismo, es mi hogar, mi perdicion, mi nacimiento, mi vida, mi muerte.
Mi cuna... mi ataud
Mi no existir
Este abismo es la vida misma
My mind deals with
Overcomes my judgement
Today it's no different
I can't take it anymore
Observing my image but
Nothing is revealed
I Saw a Burning ManIn front of my house, he sat.
Skin burnt off, now charred and black.
Hesitantly, I walked outside.
And he followed me with his watery eyes.
With steps as nimble as the snow,
I hid my fear and continued to go.
Now before him, the Burning Man.
I kindly offered him my shaky hand.
No malice nor vice leaked off of him,
rather sadness and agony which simmered below his skin.
I could feel it around me, the pain and despair,
yet, physically the man was nearly repaired.
For his scorched skin was not his problem,
instead the bottled emotions that devoured all of him.
“Would you like to come inside sir, and stay?”
In which he replied by looking away.
Again I asked, and received no reply,
and was startled when the man began to cry.
Unsure of what to do, I walked away,
Yet I’ll never forget what happened that day.
Be it from pain, or mute, or undisclosed desires,
I watched as the man was engulfed in fire.
I stood back in awe, with my mouth agape,
and feared that he had fallen into
little victories.when i was younger,
i thought i was the strongest
little girl in the world
because i could easily
beat my older brother
at arm wrestling.
it wasn't until years later
that i realized
To the person who holds my best friend's heart...I know that is is kind of weird
But I felt that I should write this down.
I need to tell you what I feel
And tell you what he means to me.
He's my best friend and he's a good man.
Please, give him the love and respect he deserves.
He may seem goofy but he's very sweet.
I know this because he was always there for me when I was sad.
Now, I know that you're not bad
Cause he would never choose someone who's mean.
But I still want to tell you just in case you forget in the future;
Please don't break his heart.
He's been through so much
And he doesn't deserve something like that.
He is the kind of person who smiles even when he's hurt by others
And would take any pain for the people he loves.
I know, I've witnessed it.
I know he may seem kind of childish sometimes
But don't let it get to you.
It's just his way of expressing himself.
He's very caring and I'm sure he'll do anything to make you happy.
He doesn't look like it but he's very kind and thoughtful.
He'll put your needs before h
And There Was Lighti.
He was seventeen when he died.
I never went to the funeral
but I walked past it the day of
the service. His mother
was in the backseat of a blue Dodge,
door open, head in her hands.
"My baby," she kept repeating.
"My baby." It would go from sobbing, to
screaming, to a soft whisper that
I could only hear being carried
on the wind.
It was a Wednesday afternoon that they found
his old red pickup truck parked
out front of Slim's, two beer bottles in
the back and the windows cracked to let the stale
I heard that his dad told the police he was
gonna take that old truck and fix it up, because
he had promised his son before—
because it's always in the before—
And in the after, his mother never had dry eyes
and I'm pretty sure my mom told me
that she saw his dad at the bar every night,
drinking his sorrows down because some people can't
handle the stress.
Some people can't figure out why their son would
"Some men just want to w
in which I gain sentiencesave room
for doubt, in the silence between
religious guilt and stolen
body heat. I am made of helium.
in my dreams they
pop me and
watch me flutter. I wonder if everyone
else’s head is so congested as mine,
hyperactive with inattentive people.
you are never serious--
he stares at me in a different
set of eyes; there are words
I cannot say, there are
things I cannot tell you.
(twice a week
I watch the people I love
leave me for good.
spiders in my throat,
1:33 amto the angry young
hungry ocean eyes:
i do not wish to know
what crawled inside
your ribs to
i just wish you would
let it leave.
You Ever Felt ItHave you ever felt it?
When you lay there broken
And feel yourself so guilty
Eyes gushing red
And you want to sleep in a coma
Your brain swelling with thoughts
At the same time empty with nothing
When you can't suit yourself
And see yourself a place among the demons
that moment when you control your life
The moment when you choose between life and death
And then you yourself can decide either way
It's when you're on the edge
And want someone to pull you back before you make another step
A hook, to rip all the insanity out of your body
And suck all the madness that is growing black dead trees
Have you ever felt it, have you known depression
Did you ever seek a source of help, and did you ever find it
oblivio eternoAquel filo que alguna vez punzó tu piel yace sobre la mia
mis ojos se posan en sus seductoras y mortiferas curvas
recorren todo su contorno, la luz reflejandose sobre él
en mi cabeza imagenes del otoño, del invierno
la melancolia se cristaliza en materia
en mi mente, en mis manos el esfuerzo es minimo
aparentemente frivolo, inutil, sin rumbo ni certeza
pero al fin me desprendo libremente, desvaneciendome de este plano
los errores del ayer, los dolores del hoy que no es y las angustias de lo que vendrá
idas al eterno oblivio, el reino de lo olvidado.
Abandoned ChapelThe parish waits now,
the loneliness of corners
crawling outward on walls--
chipped away by the wind,
and held together
by silk spindles;
cobwebs align them like the membranes of memories,
the cut of a jewel in an broken window
against the sun
where beads of rain
gather in a mesh of strands
a new Mosaic
against the backdrop of a cemetery;
My eyes seek out the sermon
in close proximity,
paint no distance
between headstone and cloud;
elegies topple each other
in their climb to heaven
as light trickles
over the shade,
breathes a new glow over snuffed candles.
I feel the weight in these empty rows,
how a breath couldn't cease to be breath
in the midst of prayer.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More