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I.Am.Not.An.ArtistI am not an artist
I do not believe I am someone with a creative mind
someone who can make something so bland into something so magnificent
I am not that
I will never be that
I see art and the world it is in
and I see nothing
I see no beauty
just shapes and colors
I do not see the beauty someone has created
or the depth and emotion that is hidden between the lines
I don’t see how someone can see so much within so little
to be able to create a life by just a few lines
and to be able to recreate something with their minds
I wish I could be able to do this
just a little of this
but I am not an artist
I am my own person
The HourglassWatch the hands go round and round.
Ahhhh, how long have I been sitting here,
Listening to the grandfather clock?
Watching him ticking away?
Watching the polished wood yellow and rot?
And with every sound he makes
More maggots eat his wooden flesh.
Every grain that falls is an eternity!
In the firelight you can see the glass.
The dust that coats the cracking bulb,
Listening to the sand that trickles down.
Listening to the passing hours.
With every grain that filters through
Another man sleeps eternally.
The sundial stands defiant!
From my leather chair I see it!
It stands defiant in the plaza below me!
Standing in the moonlit night.
Onyx DreamsOnyx Dreams
Fluctuations of sound waves vibrate the floor,
While the lights of my room glow brilliantly,
But as time winds down and my energy starts its decline,
My vision gets blurry and listening becomes hearing,
And hearing becomes simple background noise,
While Palaceer Lazaro’s words become filmy intonations
Yet, still creating a motion picture full of abstract images,
In my mind full of words and phrases that do nothing but stay stagnant,
And Slumber begins to wrap her warm hands around my head,
As she sweetly begins to pull me into black depths of rest,
A state of unconsciousness that will take me on a journey,
Through the grey abyss we call the center of our nervous system,
And once I fall into the pit of nothingness, the pit of onyx, for those few hours,
I will transform into an atramentous being with aphotic wings,
Because “black is free……..”
I Don't Miss AdolescenceMy sister calls to ask me if I'll do her makeup;
Mami promised that she would, but she's tired
and screamed when Maria reminded her senior prom
is tonight. She says, "I have a hickey on my neck,
something she doesn't want to cover, and you've always
done a better job of highlighting the subtle graces
inherent to my bone structure, the angles we share."
I say, "That's okay, but I can't pick you up,"
so she arrives in a flourish of exasperations,
telling me all the family business, waving her nails
in my face and talking about the pain of her extensions.
She says, "Do you think we need yellow concealer?
I plan to take pictures, and the last
Equestrian StormEquestrian Storm
I was walking through Canterlot,
as rain beat my plot.
I just didn’t feel right,
before it came into my sight.
The princess of the night,
alone and broken.
What a pitiful sight,
out of my slump, twas awoken.
“Princess, why are you here why are you crying?”
“Because nopony loves our night, I would be better off dying!”
“No Luna no, now that you shouldn’t say!”
“And why ever not, what reason hath you that I should stay?”
“Celestia for one, your sister whom you love.”
“Right sure, the sister from whom to the moon I was shoved.”
DilemmaToday in class
You moved to sit beside me
And my heart missed
Your friends followed,
All sitting nearby
And I sat in silence
Afraid of being judged
The presentation started
And I tried not to look at you
But instead peeked
From the corners of my eyes
The presenters spoke
And I tried to focus
On the droning voice
But you invaded my thoughts
What we had talked about last night,
What I should say to you,
How I should instigate the conversation,
If we were to have one at all
I peek over
And you look miserable
Sick, I remember,
And feel an instant sympathy
And fear of being judged
By those around me
Keeps me silent
All Systems are Shutting DownI shut down
Kicking everyone out
I sit alone inside myself, while other pieces of me close the gates around my heart
And lock the door to my brain
I refuse to let anyone in; I pretend I’m not home
“Please leave your message after the beep…”
“Where are you?”
I don’t know.
“Are you okay?”
I don’t know.
“When are you gonna let me in?”
I don’t know.
Smoker's EpiphanySlipping through a puff of smoke
exaggerated wisps slipping through my subconscious
and I am emptier than before, less than I was
something subtle and hearty
smoothened and soothing
it's almost relief
unrequitedyou make my words
gather at the hollows
of my throat
until i choke on them.
my fingers ache to
but my eyes ache to
you're nothing but heart break
wrapped in a bow
of something beautiful,
like the dust of grace from
i drink a little faster and
cry a little harder
because the way whiskey and tears
mingle on my lips
tastes suspiciously of love.
Never open the window... Never open the window...
I see you're here.
Pay attention, don't fall. It's dark.
What? No, I don't want to light up the room. Yeah, nor open the window. It's useless.
And actually, the only light I need...
...is that one that is so distant for me.
She asked me why I was saying that.
But best of all, I knew that actually she didn't care
I saw too much faces ready to wipe away all my tears and all my fears
But best of all, I know that actually they didn't care.
Seems like destiny put me in this world to help others.
Oh, I'm tired, but I won't show you.
it has been four years, right?
Four years that I'm holding all of you on my shoul
The BeaconThere it is
So far away
Yet the sight of it brings me hope
The glistening red dot
Gradually growing larger
As I trudge closer to my destination
The heat is consuming
The silence deafening
I'm so close, I can't stop now
I finally reach it
The beacon is right here before me
I gaze upon it's bright face
I pause for a moment
Then turn and continue on home.
The ChoiceSitting at the edge of the abyss
Between life and death.
I’m greeted with a disheartening choice
Solemn and quiet, I think on it.
As I sat, it is Death and all his friends
Who come upon me.
He grimly outstretched his callous hand
And persuaded me with odd tongues.
I thought of the missteps in life,
The seemingly dire loss of joy and hope.
Seeing no point to carry on, I decided
To listen to what the black spectre spoke of.
In the somber state my life had
Amounted to, I began to consider Him.
As I listened, a glint of light shone in
my eyes, fiercely blinding me.
From the clouds, a great white angel
Gently drifted down to me.
No wordsI don't like to talk.
I feel that words cannot truly express what I feel.
When I am filled with emotion, I can find no word that can express what I feel to the fullest.
There is no word beautiful enough to describe this joy, no word horrible enough to describe this hate, no word ugly enough to describe this miserable existence.
Why must I think as I write?Why must I think as I write?
Why must I write as I think?
To sit here and establish my thoughts?
To give you my personal feelings when no other can empathize?
Why do I even begin to do this?
Writing is a talent,
And yet I write this.
Discovering my talent meant that I could do something,
Not just think about what I want.
I want to become an author,
A film artist,
Hell even a poet if I choose.
But I can never stick to one thing.
Why is that?
It's as if I have so many thoughts that they can not be put on paper.
As I sleep my thoughts take flight,
I dream of a world that can not be.
Then I wake to find myself in a dangerous world that others fea
Out of ReachSeagulls call and the wind
chills my bones
and what's left of my body
as I walk the morning air
and feel myself disappear.
As roaring engines
pass overhead with passengers
filled with luxury
I sit impoverished
in the park
of technological serenity.
There is an escape
in these passing clouds
and I feel myself
turning from humanness
and trying to find
a reason to do more
than avoid and neglect.
A cold fissure cracks my skin
and turns me inside out
as I try to find a way to comfort
in a body I never saw as real.
There is a heat in my shame,
keeping my blood warm,
as my long hair hides myself
A Wall A WaveI affix myself to the wall
of human experience
and try to feel what bleeds out
with soaked hands
dry and cracking beneath
their every beating heart.
There's nothing there for me
so I step back and watch
as the pounding of passions
never able to second guess themselves
burn beneath that wall of mankind
leaving me wondering why
the whole world got together to cry
and all I had to do that day was try
but I never showed up.
I couldn't hear their call to action
and I hardly feel their empathetic notions,
as I try to be myself as best as I can be
I fall behind in humankind
and catch up only with who I use
Straws on BacksWe're gonna try real hard today
not to die.
We're going to forget
that we slept from 7pm-11pm
because of bed bugs.
We're going to try
and ignore all the blood
from the hemorrhoids.
We're going to try
the bills that keep showing up
and the bills to come
that might help me sleep
by killing the bugs.
We're gonna try real hard
not to kill ourselves
and instead to live
as the man(y) selves we are
because it's almost time for work.
We're going to forget
this weekend distance from humanity,
this failure to join in
with people my age.
We're going to remember
what it's like to be a good little worker
and when we
Well EnoughSome wonder
how I live with a muslim
when I'm an atheist.
how could you not live
with someone you love?
If you can't be honest
because you don't like to fight
then you don't want to fight
for all you've ever loved.
I'd live with a murderer,
a Republican, or even a vegan
so long as they didn't expect me
to follow their beliefs
or be harmed by them.
Inflicting yourself is enough
when you're married,
why inflict whole ideas too?
Life is difficult enough
deciding where to eat out
or if you've money to,
so agreeing to concede
on a few beliefs you cannot change
seems like a fair bargain
when you love everything
A Play to Keep FaithPrologue:
Suppose I never met you
and fell in love,
would I be where I am now
never feeling for anyone
and getting by without friends
in a world filled with obstacles
in the way of my writing
I hear in music
my heart still breaking
when I picture life without you
and that must mean
that love is still there to feel,
but what little there is
isn't enough for you.
Act 1: Doing
Here I can't use contractions
because the verb "can"
implies that I will not.
I can take the world on today
and I can go home
and have you love me in return
because you know what little I can love
is all I can handle.
Entering EscapingI feel the keys in my hand
and I stare straight ahead
only seeing in my mind
a void of thought
that has been building
to keep me safe
from my own frustrations.
Turning the key in the lock
I think before entering:
I'm not the most loving person
to ever get married,
but she is waiting for me to leave her
and I am waiting for her to leave me,
which just leaves us both
wanting to be left alone.
Maybe that's the bigger point,
since she doesn't want to change
and I don't want to forever try
to make her change for the better.
I find her there absently glad
to see me again and
I wish our time together
felt less doomed
WreckI keep waiting for the moment
to look up from my monitor,
only to find that everything of Hers
and everything of mine
doesn't matter at all.
I'm lost in a sea of light
as the metal wraps around my torso
and the whole of the world stops
to remind me that I'm going to die
only to let me off at the last moment
upon impact as glass shatters around me
instead of into me.
There's time enough to look right
and see Her lying there unaware
in shock from the impact of the crash,
but I've been trapped in this car
and I can only hope
that now that we've stopped tumbling
end over end
and hit a wall
that she'll no
She decided a young woman like her had no business being imperfect. Impurities had to be expelled from her life, no matter the cost. A universal remover promised to be her savior. It lived up to its commercials, doing away with the stains that disgraced her floor and some of the walls.
Would domestic hygiene free her from being flawed? Doubtful. This product guaranteed to exterminate any kind of filth. Could it go beyond the material things? She rubbed the substance on her forehead, and conjured as many negative thoughts as possible. They were recalled, only to vanish from memory a second after.
Satisfied? Not quite. Even the good recollect
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`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More