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A Bright Spot in a Dark Winter I

Journal Entry: Wed Jan 21, 2015, 9:08 AM
I hope all of you had a great holiday and that you will enjoy a healthy New Year!!



A Case of IdentityMid-morning greeting...one shy little bird
Whistles so softly in October sun
That for a moment, I think her light music
Is rising from the steel guts of my thermos
Through coffee backer than a fruit-bat's eye
To meet new seasons, "Such is bliss! Thup-shh!"
But no, this burble comes from midway up
The spotted greyish beech that owns our yard.
Ah-ha! Feathers, not fizz, you goof! I laugh,
Then pause a moment on the stairs to listen
To tiny bubbles zipping off my beverage
Caught in the thermos' grasp, and singing there.
Oblivion.Your flesh
belongs
to something bigger.
To Its Beacon Beamingthere is a music
to the way you
say my name
that breathes weight
and value into it
a timing that winds
will and magic
into my clock
and makes me
want to breathe
and i don't know
if it's how you
say it, how i hear it
or maybe some
forgotten memory
just gets fixed
to its beacon
beaming through
the jagged slip
and break of sea
but we're more
than two bodies
pressed into
a bed, or dropped
into shoes
we're the imprint
of creation
and its movement
through time
we are evolution
a selective physics
in earth's own dreams
and memories
has mapped our lives
each into the other's
we'd have met and fallen
in any timeline
and for any one
of a million reasons
but never, ever, by chance
House of Dreams  Out through the fields of tall weeds and wild grasses, past a decayed oak and rusted-out pickup truck; into the dense woods on the other side, where the ground is carpeted by multiple layers of dead leaves, built up over the past century. Deep in the heart of these woods is an old house, its boards gray and weather beaten. At night, flickering blue lights dance through the darkness, but there is no one there to see…
 A steaming day in July, the air heavy and hard to breathe. Insects of two dozen varieties filled the thick air, thrown into a frenzy from the heat. The drone of their buzzing had become background noise. I was totally focused on the warped, weathered boards of the old house. Specks of white paint still clung stubbornly in places. A two-story, Southern Gothic masterpiece, it had been abandoned now for many years. Overgrown with weeds and briars, it fairly vibrated with memories of long ago days… Lives lived and lost, children’s laughter, the so
On Why We Always Leave ParadiseThere was never any room
for happiness, for the kind of blind forgiveness
that God purports to give, to offer
like so many other lies (flowers
for funerals, like a summer
full of Monday, like the seasons' seduction
and betrayal, continuous, cyclic, full of mornings
made gray, the world
polluted by our own desire
for revenge against the divine spark) nothing
could ever be enough.
So we left, ate the apple, stole the sun,
shot down moons and stars for the children to play with,
and took our leaving as serious as our living.
We drifted through desert worlds full of sand and regret
as if the very earth were rising up to mirror our own
barren lives. Look at all the balloons we have stolen
from all the malfunctioning carnival rides.
And why wouldn't we? Taking what was left
was better than leaving all there was
to be eaten by sandworms and stolen by time,
whose many thieving hands we once
held in our own, shaking, “brother, dear brother,
of mine,” our most ancient, unjust irredee

disposable.Loneliness crowds in my pores,
fitting with a vice grip
like destiny.
My anxieties plait love letters
addressed to my sadness
through my nervous system,
I cannot read their hasty manuscript,
but they scream
with excellent diction
about my lack of self worth.
I crawl in the dark
looking for someone to speak to -
the scrapes on my knees
reminding me
that you'll pick me up
in pieces out of the concrete
when you find the time,
taking note how you've started
to bunt me to the side
like trash -
I've only ever tried to shine golden for you.
Crawling in the dark
anxieties like cinder blocks
I look for a match
and a way out of here.
Paradise Lost by phantastesTwo-color winter by NorbertKocsisNight of the Constitution Day by inObrASlead me VI by JoannaRzeznikowska
F(r)iendno harm was spoken of
or placed on my plate
but tears escape
trailing my lids to the corner, to my temple,
like ink gliding on paper telling a story
of an emotion that fills my lungs with burning water
of molten claws that scrape my chest
trying to make it outwards
as if gushing out could create
some freedom for us
we're stuck with each other
me, inedible with rotten angst
the demon, desperate to feed on my flesh
eating away, eating and never escaping,
scorching my eyes and veins and I
offer myself, easy, self-absorbed,
everything tense, acid in my throat
but I must be afraid
even of letting this imp go
InsteadAll the love, the heavens have stored
For me.
All the love-
The four hours on a lazy day-
Are reserved as my lot.
It then becomes a pillar of salt,
And the heavens store
All my tears instead.
aquamanmy heart is in
the bag of chocolate
covered blueberries
on your desk -
take the rest,
i don't mind.
in a grungy
basement in yarmouth,
my laugh coats smoke
plumes that cling
to the walls,
the insulation,
the sheets.
i only mock the names
of towns on the way
to the airport because
they take me farther
from you.
tomorrow morning,
your cat will rise
without either of us
in the bed - the sun
will yawn and roll
across the tapestry
slumped over
your mattress.
and if the next time
you hold my hand,
you notice
crescent-shaped
indents folding over
my knuckles -
know that those
are the nights i spent
pinching myself,
thinking this
couldn't be real.
ruinersthink I struggle with the course
water takes/over skin;
how it leaves shallows and shallows
and shallows behind
and I'm trying I'm trying
not to try so hard
WalnutWhiskeyfalls.
Scotch or Irish.
Thunderous machinations shift as the second-hand passes judgement.
A voice, the music of nightmares,
singing songs about someone else.
Walnut beneath breakfast.
Sturdy enough to stop a pen from breaking paper.
Lucky me.
It could take every written word of the monoliths of human literature to get the taste of her lips off the mouth,
or to kiss them.
Scotch or Irish.
She's looking for projects with compelling characters whose journeys feel human.
You'll need a man to right a woman,
and no man you are.
God has seen to that and so have you,
lest we forget.
Bow now and you may yet put one last smile on her face.

Fade by melaniedelonForest 8 by LillianEvillSteampunk Maleficent Redux - Shibao by LahmiaRavenWaiting for a Champion by TheOneiroiPremade background - Summer Gate1 by Euselia
lady lotusMy older sister said I was crazy;
My Uma (mother)told me it was natural,
my Apa (dad)called us superstitious.
But I still couldn't turn away, blink twice
to make it go away when I saw a crow on
our front porch, hanging around the hanging
lilacs and silver mermaid wind-chimes.
I know you were here, star-flower,
wishing well wish..
oh yes, if you can
take me there with you.
But I know you won't.
You whispered in my raven
dreaming mind that
you believed I had
too much potential
to just give it away
to unholy pearl-polished angels
in the hanuel (heaven).
Yet somehow I wonder
if you just said that to
keep me from sobbing
in the indigo tent that
enshounded my frail body,
struggling against palm
leaf sweet-and-salty sleep;
a night of cherry blossoms
and green tea ice cream.
I don't think you ever knew
that I was in love with
the girl from Manzhouli;
a land of spinning colors,
dancers with wildflowers
in their long blackbird hair.
Oh Lien, I met you at one of those
festive dance halls, celebra
Wind In the breath of trees,
tales of lands long forgotten,
the four winds whisper.  
 
 
 
©L. L. Kelly 2015 
we were born from ashesi set fire to our memories
so i could forgive you
because i don't even
remember who you are.
a beastA BEAST...
Of ironed scales yet lies beneath stitched flesh
Of winter fur yet cannibalised into mechanical steam
Of majestic feathers yet withers in toxic wastes
Of sky length wings yet paces within earthen soil
Of burning flames yet frozen to any touch
Of grand site yet hidden in unlit shadows
Of unholy offspring yet held within mothers gentle protection
Of modern destruction yet preserve in ancient beauty
Of countless horizons yet blinded by tainted light
Of mortal age yet passes within timeless boundaries
Of written knowledge yet lost within inked oceans
Of spoken words yet shelter within voiceless prayers
Of boundless gravitation yet falls within the open cracks
Of realistic features yet clouded in illusion
Of mischievous memories yet mingle in forgetful thoughts
Of undying truth yet pleasures in tainted secrets
Of many talents yet a failure by mistakes
Of spectral of colours yet drained to dull creation
YET... ...

Madrid airport by KlaraDrielleTech-n-color Dream_07 by caddmanCarnival Retro Steampunk Cocept practice by designdiva3Things Unsaid by TheChild13I see hell in your eyes.. by MoonRoseEternity
Dido's ConflictCarthage shall forever
feel the sting of your sword.

We shall not endeavor
to keep you in untoward
circumstances. Go, then--
with lands to be explored
and duly conquered when
you set foot withing them.
And there are other men
to grovel at my hem.
And there are maidens, too,
that I cannot condemn
for falling into you
the way I almost did;
the way I wanted to.
The love we had was all too sordid
to end another way than it did.
(How funny, or maybe perfect it is,)to think I am meat
and spirit
while I eat both.
Yet,
I persist
as matter and
nothing.
Of the static,
that door
still gaping,
a hole
in conception,
would it be real
if I understood it?
If I could just grasp
what I'm not
understanding?
Because language, even
these words, are
nothing.
Nothing outside
me.
Nothing before
me.
Maybe less
after me.
And
the idea?
Nothing.
Nothing but
meat
and even
the spirit
stammers
against
infinity,
against
inevitability,
against
itself.
DickMaybe someday I can love Dick Cheney
Some day enlightenment might be attained
I've been told all things are possible
Most of those misguided fools are
nothing more than grist for comedy
But, Dick…. Dick is special
The Buddha tells me to see myself in the other
To eliminate the artificial us/them construct
To see myself in Dick Cheney
Could Dick see himself in me?
I don’t think I like the sound of that
Would the “me” Dick become contrite and renounce
his affiliation with darkness?
Would the “me” Dick return to all those talk shows
on an Apology/Confession Tour?
Would the “Dick” me continue to rationalize
the soul deadening crime of war profiteering?
Would the “Dick” me "do it all again in a minute"?
Someday I might see myself in Dick and
Dick might see me and realize
that we are all one...
When pigs levitate.
tribal Earthlings - both murderous and suicidalin humanity's inhumane tribalism
which is worse:
- that many destroy our human kin
in the name of race, religion or ethnicity?
- that many destroy our large mammal kin
for sport, trophy or just because they can?
- or that many destroy earth, air and water
in quest of wealth and power?
our tribal nature is a remnant of evolution,
from when it was necessary for survival.
it is no longer necessary.
nor actually, without further evolution, are we...
llp - dA - jan2015
RedBut we still twirl around
On a darkened roof
While the sunset
Is fresh
Like a deep, cut
Bloody, bleeding
Orange and shades of
Pink and
Red like my lips
Our hands tight together
In an ominous dance
Of indifference to
The day of tomorrow
As the city will awaken
In snow and traffic
We'll be here
Drinking fresh coffee
And laughing

Forest Witch by Flobelebelebobelede facTo by mimikascraftroomSri Yantra Healing Mandala by LilyasWinter Gettysburg Castle - free hdr stock by somadjinnFear by J-u-d-a-s
.:A Grim Night:. by SummerDreams89In The End by ElementOfOne1Alegra by nine9nine9Legolas - Muro Test by TIAvalentina*melancholy* by WelshAngelArt
Flower love by LaurieLefebvreWhy ? by SweetlylouShadows of Death by AndyGarcia666Oracle by StarsColdNightStorm Maker by Black-B-o-x
fireflysoft
gentle
whisper-touch
the campfire murmur
of the firefly
perched on my collar
glowing in beauty
temporal, innocent, finite beauty
that whispers
do you know
asks the firefly
no, I do not
I reply
and we sit there
and he flits through the velvet black
the jeweler's cloth of a July night
we listen to the breeze mingle
with the white pines
the maples are laughing
the sound of their leaves is a purity
that man cannot attain to
gentle the moon barely glides
as the embers pop and crack
sparks rise into the cool air
free-agent ripcords of fire
the fireflies watch them go
jettisoned into the cosmos
the firefly and I
wait
I watch them drift in the aether
while the fire glows a sleepy red
all hands retiring now
lulled into an easy sleep
as the trees laugh in their effervescent way
so clean, so strong
the firefly is the last thing I see
as we disappear into dreams
AguaIt loves you with its liquid caress, touching your toes, ankles, calves, the backs of your knees. Bold in taking liberties with you, it soon touches your thighs, creeping ever higher, getting bolder by the moment. It takes its time, letting you control the pace, but taking you in, touching every part of you as you savor its warm, wet touch. Before long, you find yourself lost in the sweeping sensation, letting it have you completely. As you sink under the waves, you think, "Oh, there is nothing like the ocean." Pallwinter pall;
red clay and pouring rain
attending the bier
We Dont Die YoungTurn the lights down low. Let me leave this place from the comfort of my own bed at seventy, quick. Sometimes I actually think I’ll be around to see the world die. That would be my luck, as it was my grandmother’s. The quality of life fades, but the heart and mind remain strong. I don’t wish to die, I just want to leave the station before the suffering begins, but we don’t die young.
My blood line speaks for itself. The latest to prove that fact is my father, a hard noised, whiskey drinking wild man. He rode his Heritage to the end of life and back again. Now, his roar has become a groan, but he’s still kicking near eighty. Most his friends are gone now, but their memory still lingers and he has his family.
If this doesn’t sound so bad, that’s because it isn’t, at least not yet. When your existence becomes agony and pain from bones that don’t work, lungs that struggle to breathe, or bowels that won’t move I’d rather take
God, Save the QueenAwake with the ice-soldered wind;
she has not crept but through the chest the icicle sticks.
How clear, like crystal, her beauty is when she demands to be seen.
Ferocious and titanic: how clear her beauty when she is gone.

commission - Big machine by FASSLAYERWinter by KaarmenMilitis by Softyrider62Autunno di Rossetti by LenteScuraMidnight Queen by Phatpuppyart-Studios
Eos by MoonZaphireDark Fae by BrookeGilletteThe Polar Express by ElementOfOne1 northcomingnorthcoming
----------------
Northcoming breeze  
gushes cold across the land  
What once was fair  
is now corrupt  
and dead  
Dead species
Dead ideals  
Irrational  
irresistable  
desire  
Fimbulwinter has come  
in all its frozen bloody gore  
Can the sun ever come once more?
Lancelot Price 2015 January 8
Back to past by aninur

  • Mood: Neutral
  • Watching: Forensic Files

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Scarlettletters
Brendan
Artist | Professional | Literature
United States
Current Residence: Cape Hatteras and New York
Favourite genre of music: All of it
Favourite style of art: All of it
Favourite cartoon character: Bill the Cat, Oor Wullie, Snoopy
Personal Quote: They're taking them out in little green bottles again, and they all look like you.
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:iconyggeir:
Yggeir Featured By Owner 5 hours ago  New member Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thank you for the fav! :thanks:
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DiosaEMR Featured By Owner 1 day ago  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks so much for the :+fav:
appreciate it!
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Altair-E Featured By Owner 1 day ago  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thank you very much for faving my work. It really makes me happy. Handshake 

F.E.A.R. by Altair-E
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ShiningSteel Featured By Owner 1 day ago  Hobbyist Writer
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oviedomedina Featured By Owner 1 day ago
Thank you for the favorite!
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jennystokes Featured By Owner 1 day ago  Professional General Artist
Many thanks for the watch............this is very kind of you.
Jenny.
:hug:'sssss
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tirasunil Featured By Owner 1 day ago  Student Writer
Thanks for the fav! :)
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Wikita Featured By Owner 1 day ago  Student General Artist
As always, thank you for the fave!
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caddman Featured By Owner 2 days ago  Professional General Artist
...thank you my friend for the fave... FAINT HIGH FIVE.
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You're welcome ! You have a great gallery btw :) 
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