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A Library ShouldHelp support the price tag.
A telepath’s wish kindles in bone.
Sale the Dragon kindred reads a story all alone.
The aisles, misty forlorn
aisles--shelve they forgotten tome--grow
their own economy on a coin currency stone.
The printing press of paper
spruces up the orphan wood.
Books never adopted, a library should.
nestled upon bed peaches tinctured
with feather fleece cover; aroused her charmingly
the swan youth who dove.
Do covet lightning hair-streams a feminine kiss,
zipping electric neon blue strands charging fleece.
Oral pearls’ luster elucidates forth
in service to gaiety.
The bed-ship sways, lady navigating an atlas female.
Brunette in repose dips her brow to vanilla neck,
source of blueberry skin aroma.
Her braids swivel caressed by the ingenious
touch of her mate.
Vision fields finally interlock;
unified eyes frolic iris meadows.
As lilac buds blossom also lips gentle brush,
casting a cerise flair of blush.
Felicity, as well a sapphic love.
I Tie Love to a Lion's BalloonI tie love to a lion’s balloon.
A salon rinses curls that soak and shake away the
scents of other girls.
Wrung-out bonnet of acacia shampoo.
A boutique is our zeitgeist.
Thalia ItaliaWhy, audience, throw tomatoes at tragic plays for being tragedies?
Life is tragic; eat them during a comedy.
To tragedy she tends to tease.
Talented intrinsic comedy release.
Acts antecedent made lacrimal the coterie
underneath such secretion manifest vineal priests.
Such vineal priests.
At branches’ ends tomatoes worship pendulous
swaying neatly neat.
Cleavers axe their thorny stems.
The atheist coterie, now above their seats
aim savagely tomatoes to the sad stage beneath.
There then seen is Thalia, comic masque in hand,
playing her funny bugle! The ivy, a fragrant snake at her command,
slithers about her feet as they skip,
leaping to actors dead.
She knows them dead;
with laughter-filled persuasion she causes them to stand!
Holding hands in merriment the cast in circles leap
like the muse of idylls delights.
Frowns into smiles form and keep;
Death atop his darkest horse removed.
The audience, although jubilant, continues to weep.
Lovers out of script reuni
Before Partisan StepsHungarian Jew Alexander White
witnessed plights antisemitic, doom’s insult chaperoned handily under Hitler’s
His heartbeat resolute,
below White watched a Budapest cinema
SS officers flittered boots, flooded the movie house as would bewildered
animals, arresting age fifteen Alexander;
as Fuhrer claims, “The problem at its root.”
A Serbian copper mine to White sent work,
awarded no serenity in time.
He told another prisoner, “For food, my coat is yours,”
afterward flying from the fences!
Sooner gunfire heard his task to endure.
There down a daedalian river
parallel to a chapeau cap
besieged by water’s curtsy: a cap diversion onto stalker dogs.
Halt, you canine Nazi!
Into mountains White escaped,
trekking aimlessly dirt distances.
Dead leaves would not bind his movement.
And at last, when tired knees he grew
stifled every step,
Yugoslavian Partisans were to adopt another suffering man’s
nearly deceased st
The Flamingo PoetEveryone uses spoons in the morning.
I’ve a fork stirrin’ my tea
served with worry in a pink cup
Flamingo porcelain aviate
my tea in crooked wing.
Feathers rattle & quiver. Wrist riots,
I shiver, spill tea on fingers
fashionin’ four searing rings.
Invited calm sips incinerate lips,
my tongue tolerates a singe.
Steam pinkish pipes a voiceless misery binge;
poetry, a flamingo by the fringe.
Acta Diurna VIIMorning, stilled in a grey photo.
I am a mineral speck in slate mountains flanked by the salmon halo of Lady Gaia.
I left and pondered all the pictures I could capture.
Camera remained on the dresser.
Why do we share photographs?
Memory mustn't be pleasing seemingly.
Humans share photographs likely to convey messages of emotion,
or to detail without word.
Some share only to express their ability to steal the moment like a firefly in a jar
when the flash is on.
And some want for others to know where they were.
“Glory to the setting of man.”
Indeed, glory to the setting of man.
Acta Diurna IIIHanded out paper today.
“Should thee accept, smile.”
Should incite curiosity and sense of appreciation, no matter how subliminal.
Grey to be closely achieved.
May also flatten soul soda, leading to self-equilibrium of the mind.
...should not eat anymore root beer candies.
Hate the MankindDo you kindly remember us, Earth?
We are destroying you
We'll pollute you
for the ignorance
is not a sin
Would you kindly forgive us, Earth?
Mr. Evolution created the brain
for all this stupid junk
so blame him more than us
We are like city rabbits
annihilating the Eden, which could have been ours
if we hadn't been so greedy
As a part of this society, I despise the mankind
because I love you my dearest Earth!
AndromedaAmongst the darkened skies
Brightened by only starlight
Field & Sea.
Gravity is only an afterthought
Hilltops become ladders into the sky while
Inferior planets stare down upon the Earth
Jealous of such simplicity yet contemplating grandeur.
Keppler only thought of science
Linear, elliptical, movement…
Mythology had no such thoughts
Neptune & Nebulas both inhabit space
Orbiting across the lonely darkness
Probably never worried about mundane things
Questioning their existence
Right now or for all eternity such as us.
Shooting stars make us joyful while
Terminator is an otherworldly spectacle
Unknown to all those hidden in their houses
Various stars await us outside
Waiting to play like we did before
Xenagogue & inviting
Youthful but ancient curiosities.
Zenith induced euphoria continues until daylight…
30. Under the RainWhen it Rained
Hearing how the water fall
hits the roof
There has been many
who I don't know
to become lost
when it rained
They walk the path
and there is only one way
since it's too hot
when sun still shines
we'll get burned again
so then we are gone
when it rains
Second DestinationOn the upside down mountain
Colored oil black
I saw a house there
Front of it the bridge
between the mountain and a
200 floors high building
while 10 children
were running on the roof
All died in the fall
And so was my
Astronaut, calling from Soilthe astronaut landed
on a nylon moon.
the walls of net allowed no entry
he had a frail bronze skin,
so had a suit of emerald.
and six twig legs were
state of the art, back on Soil.
a giant monster,
jeans and pink and t-shirt,
attacked him in sudden, accidental savagery.
now the astronaut is shutting down,
all in the name of letting a giant
get higher than he needed to.
The Beauty of the Flight OneOh bird,
oh how I envy you so
with your wings so delicate
but has the strength
to fight and navigate through
the ever pushing winds
your sharp and fine beak
an open even
the hardest of words and nuts
to provide the proper amount of food
for your beloved nest
You work so diligently
looking around for signs of danger
to later take flight
if it comes to that
but staying to fight
if your nest comes to harms way
Your call expresses many emotions
that I myself sometimes feel
the purtrid cry of sorrow
the beligerant screech of anger
the prepossessing song of love and content
Oh how I envy many things
of your careful, free life
I still know of the great dangers
that you constantly face
and I will always admire
how dutefully you deal
with all the troubles
that come with being a bird
Moon CycleRare pearl in the sky,
You are ever-changing,
Eluding my grasp
As you dance
In your smiling arc
Around the world.
Like the tide,
My heart is overcome
By your gravitational pull;
my darkest nights of the soul.
All I can do
Is to watch
Until you come full circle.
Twigs in one hand,
Carrot in the other.
All in a hour or two.
They don't care.
They build their living snow.
Only to die of heatstroke the next day.
DreiadesTo lash fuchsia
Is, to Future, stain a floral bed,
Whereby a billion butterflies
Embellished in a belle of white
Lay weary heads!
She's awoken with a morning
Tucked under a bang
All rise the hanging grapevines
And fruit veins
So compelling her to sing.
"A nymph of forest
Forfeiting her needles
Such am I,
Pining for a fire to keep me
Oh so warm.
If the cool is wavered
And I heed what fire warned,
I shall sleep on with the seasons
Until butterflies are adorned
With their own beds."
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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