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LIMERICK FOR OLD ROMEO Clodia, Catullus wrote Rome,
that you could but open your home
to my swift hot invasion,
and don't mar the occasion,
with lauds to that dolt - Cicero! Hm!
199TH DECADE EXTRACT It opened its three hundred and first eye, a misted lens in the face of stone. A pupil appeared, a black fly staring out and down through amber. There it moved, left, hesitantly right, then down again. Then sank back leaving the glass eye blind with damp light. After a moment, suddenly, the thing returned, dashed through the glass, toppled, fell out and down, past three hundred closed eyes, down. The concrete features hardly shrugged when the fragile shadow kicked the pavement, shattering near-soundlessly.
Seemingly massless, with boring slowness, a shadow left its crowd, caterpillared towards the shards. Now a matt piece of reflection topped its headhair, unwillingly lingering. The tortoise motion ended; a shell now stood absorbing the fleeing life this carcass had sipped up in its socket. The standing shadow stubbed the slumped one once with its foot, then its hair shook its reluctant reflection from side to side.
"She didn't even
Kristoff's Second Love poem to AnnaMy darling love shines like the bright sun when the morning sky is gray.
She is dutiful and still fun
she keeps me from dismay.
Her inner beauty may be hidden
yet her duty does suffice.
For her other men's gaze is forbidden
her beauty be more fair than ice.
In certain cases she's so hasty now
but in others she takes great care
Her faith and patience trust in God some how
she waits one day for her children soon to bare.
Can I describe this wondrous girl, or compare her to a dove?
Nay, I can not say much further but Anna has my love.
The Bluebird (Poem)I want so desperately to love you
but I fear I never will.
I am just a little bluebird
outside your window on the sill.
Always I am loving you,
peering through the glass so thin,
so close and yet so far away
for you will never let me in.
Outside I sing a song of passion
the music makes you smile, Dear,
but the words, they never reach you
and chirping sounds are all you hear.
The world is full of little bluebirds
singing to each other, too,
but I can’t sing for other bluebirds.
I can only sing for you.
B x V POEM: Vegeta's PainYour touch I always
Thought I'd have
When you left
I didn't care
I just sat
In my chair
Then it hit
You're really gone
Think I loved you
On the bed
Your empty place
Makes me miss
Your happy face
So much running
Through my head
I should have said
Try to atone
You just ignore
It is me
I can't eat
And I can't train
All the pain
Thought I'd try
Still feel like
I wanna die
Drink in hand
Does it help?
It does not
What to do
Kind of wish
I just had you
Maybe if I'd cared
When I had the chance
I'd still have
In All HonestyWhose blinded eyes transfix, upon a heart
with which its love knows no limit nor pain?
The reckless, eager youth whose hope imparts
upon his lofty dreams he may attain.
In those little pursuits to find his love,
his prayers seemed to be answered, for he
had found a person fall from up above
of pure heart with love so boundless and free.
Yet such miracles cannot last for long,
for when he followed love with blinded eyes
he never saw when everything went wrong.
For love he dreamed of gave nothing but lies.
Though blind my eyes, the words spoken are true.
This poem never will I write for you.
One day the soft wings of innocence are trampled by lust,
Broken, blemished and bleeding, discarded in dust.
But the promise of true love, comes wafting on the breeze,
Sacred, pure and profound, he gives the heart its ease.
Wandering SorrowDeep within the woods,
there is a lady fair and cold.
For ages she has sung,
dancing through the years of old.
Long days are now past
that she has wished to find her home.
Yet her heart is wounded deep,
and her feet shall ever roam.
I Love YouI will never be one for words but
Leaving is not an
Option for I will try, even in
Vain, to show you that you mean
Everything to me
You are simply the love
Of my life and I will always treasure our
Good MorningGood morning to you, my love
The shadows of night
Have come, and gone.
But I felt not one
Creep to my bed.
When upon your chest
I layed my head.
Of Fantasies and RealityWhere have you gone, my love, my dear?
Leaving me in this summer heat?
Even though you were never here,
Leaving me ‘lone on my dirty seat.
The flowers touch my dainty toes
And summer sun shines on my face.
Wish you were here to dismiss my woes
And leave love and wonder in their place.
But you’re not here, with me, right now;
You’re with them more, and that’s okay.
I’m used to it, to this I vow.
You’re a hunter, and I’m the prey.
But you’re not here, not real my sweet.
Only in dreams do we two meet.
LOVE, SHE CAME TO TOWNSo much a man has locked fast, down inside.
He dives through days, comes only up to gasp,
to flail and try to pause, never to grasp
what he has lost, no doubts on what to hide.
But then that word, picked up in town one day.
A voice of hope came lancing through one's sleep.
"Love", it said; a timbre smooth and deep
made one's head turn - all blinders fell away:
She moves and talks among us, while her breast
sports ribbons bound invisibly to all,
each word, each movement draws my heart up there,
no jealousy nor fear is left to bear,
the secret inner door released. I call
her radiant wavelength, and forget the rest.
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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