Words cannot see,
What I need to say,
Hidden amongst,
Opaque tongue play,
I sit under I,
Dwelling within,
Waiting to steal,
The joy from my kin,
Greyscale mindset,
Envelops my eyes,
The ID of me former,
My Ego disguised,
My mind awash with color
That my eyes cannot speak,
I bleed onto paper as words open my veins
Meaningless yet Meaningful,
Thought itself like a child reaching for a high shelf,
Empty and barren
Full of promise
I sit here alone
Because of myself
Mirrors ask reasons for which i have no answer
I am a blank
A draft for a purpose...
From beaming yellow,
To violent red,
Skin peels like the pages of a book of some unloved fate,
Groaning under the flow of the mistimed shower,
Both optimistic and naive
Grass blades pierce like shards of shimmering glass,
As i lay
The humm of a hidden chorus in the green soothes my wounds
Performers flee
Twisting and darting away from nothing it seems
Only to find the red over and over,
Feet like a drum-line..
A wry little smile cracks in the irony,
For here i shall stay
What can you really find at the end of that path,
Does your shallow speculation, rendered from some painful altercation
Drive you forward into that abyss of self discovery that pulses deep within the soul,
A casual walk down memory lane to find a source to blame,
An ink blot on your pristine white, A scar?
Can you really pluck a feather from your plume free of doubt or consequences
No.
I spent a life inside my head, perpetual existence incarnate,
Not quite sane or insane, but a beautiful state of consciousness.
Where what you seek leads you on with a coy smile,
But always just out of reach,
I'm just a boy who walks everywhere,
I
Awoken by the sun's bold kiss through parted curtains
Softly caressing away those last memories of nocturnal fantasy
As my eyes meet her gaze
The world unfurls like crumbled paper in a light breeze,
Mornings like children at play
Innocent and content..
Everything silver-lined..
That bird of hope held in his eager palms
Let free to meet another morning soul.
Mother Sun holds him tight to her breast
Safe from adolescence,
For the unfurling paper,
Far from innocent,
Makes the boy grow distant from his mother's solace
And follow his sibling days away...
A silhouette cavalcade,
Stretches back into the darkness.
As the wind creates daunting figures to toy with my eyes
Moonlight gleams and caresses them
Basking the tree's in a steely mirage
Jealous of their sisters green hue's they creak and moan
Tormented by this parody of day
Yearning for the sun
The nocturnal choir echoes across this landscape
Ironically soothing in their distress
The moon rests behind a cloud
Darkness eclipses all
No more figures taunt my gaze,
Yet the voices of the choir disperse
Free without their gleaming conductor
My ears are now betray me,
"Creak"
"Snap"
My heart races
As i search for a familiarity
I see you there,
Across from me,
In a corner people's eyes seldom reach,
Two jaundice yellow globes part a matted sheet,
A patchwork tapestry of deception and despair,
Woven from a lonely soul,
I walk to you,
Driven by your fearless smile,
Yet daunted by your hollow stare,
"Spare some change for the train Sir?"
The train I fear follows a different line,
As the tracks run up his bony arms,
Pity sets in with the sound of falling coins,
On a cracked concrete floor
This soft Cotton bedspread,
Clings to me like comfortable armor,
Shielding from the world outside my solace,
My one haven,
This diamond in the rough
In the metaphorical minefield called family life
Place your bets please..
Who really holds the winning hand
What do you gain from trust
Who do you stand to loose,
You or them,
Same old tricks new disguise
Ace of Guilt and the Jack of Deception
Black-Jack
Back beyond the darkened eve,
Naivety wraps the child's mind in silk,
Soft and comforting like fantasy,
A caring protector smile caresses,
Though her fate is bound to a lesser good
His mind free as the eagle and pure as the dove,
Unrestrained by life's hardships
The clouds descend...
She is gone,
His mind charcoal smudged by one realization after the next,
Tarnished like wine spilled on carpet,
Never to be removed,
He is alone,
Shrouded in pseudo-protectors,
Who's guise convincing till they hurt,
"Ill be strong for her...I won't cry",
Say's the boy with a tear gleaming on his cherry cheek
Words cannot see,
What I need to say,
Hidden amongst,
Opaque tongue play,
I sit under I,
Dwelling within,
Waiting to steal,
The joy from my kin,
Greyscale mindset,
Envelops my eyes,
The ID of me former,
My Ego disguised,
My mind awash with color
That my eyes cannot speak,
I bleed onto paper as words open my veins
Meaningless yet Meaningful,
Thought itself like a child reaching for a high shelf,
Empty and barren
Full of promise
I sit here alone
Because of myself
Mirrors ask reasons for which i have no answer
I am a blank
A draft for a purpose...
From beaming yellow,
To violent red,
Skin peels like the pages of a book of some unloved fate,
Groaning under the flow of the mistimed shower,
Both optimistic and naive
Grass blades pierce like shards of shimmering glass,
As i lay
The humm of a hidden chorus in the green soothes my wounds
Performers flee
Twisting and darting away from nothing it seems
Only to find the red over and over,
Feet like a drum-line..
A wry little smile cracks in the irony,
For here i shall stay
What can you really find at the end of that path,
Does your shallow speculation, rendered from some painful altercation
Drive you forward into that abyss of self discovery that pulses deep within the soul,
A casual walk down memory lane to find a source to blame,
An ink blot on your pristine white, A scar?
Can you really pluck a feather from your plume free of doubt or consequences
No.
I spent a life inside my head, perpetual existence incarnate,
Not quite sane or insane, but a beautiful state of consciousness.
Where what you seek leads you on with a coy smile,
But always just out of reach,
I'm just a boy who walks everywhere,
I
Awoken by the sun's bold kiss through parted curtains
Softly caressing away those last memories of nocturnal fantasy
As my eyes meet her gaze
The world unfurls like crumbled paper in a light breeze,
Mornings like children at play
Innocent and content..
Everything silver-lined..
That bird of hope held in his eager palms
Let free to meet another morning soul.
Mother Sun holds him tight to her breast
Safe from adolescence,
For the unfurling paper,
Far from innocent,
Makes the boy grow distant from his mother's solace
And follow his sibling days away...
A silhouette cavalcade,
Stretches back into the darkness.
As the wind creates daunting figures to toy with my eyes
Moonlight gleams and caresses them
Basking the tree's in a steely mirage
Jealous of their sisters green hue's they creak and moan
Tormented by this parody of day
Yearning for the sun
The nocturnal choir echoes across this landscape
Ironically soothing in their distress
The moon rests behind a cloud
Darkness eclipses all
No more figures taunt my gaze,
Yet the voices of the choir disperse
Free without their gleaming conductor
My ears are now betray me,
"Creak"
"Snap"
My heart races
As i search for a familiarity
I see you there,
Across from me,
In a corner people's eyes seldom reach,
Two jaundice yellow globes part a matted sheet,
A patchwork tapestry of deception and despair,
Woven from a lonely soul,
I walk to you,
Driven by your fearless smile,
Yet daunted by your hollow stare,
"Spare some change for the train Sir?"
The train I fear follows a different line,
As the tracks run up his bony arms,
Pity sets in with the sound of falling coins,
On a cracked concrete floor
This soft Cotton bedspread,
Clings to me like comfortable armor,
Shielding from the world outside my solace,
My one haven,
This diamond in the rough
In the metaphorical minefield called family life
Place your bets please..
Who really holds the winning hand
What do you gain from trust
Who do you stand to loose,
You or them,
Same old tricks new disguise
Ace of Guilt and the Jack of Deception
Black-Jack
Back beyond the darkened eve,
Naivety wraps the child's mind in silk,
Soft and comforting like fantasy,
A caring protector smile caresses,
Though her fate is bound to a lesser good
His mind free as the eagle and pure as the dove,
Unrestrained by life's hardships
The clouds descend...
She is gone,
His mind charcoal smudged by one realization after the next,
Tarnished like wine spilled on carpet,
Never to be removed,
He is alone,
Shrouded in pseudo-protectors,
Who's guise convincing till they hurt,
"Ill be strong for her...I won't cry",
Say's the boy with a tear gleaming on his cherry cheek
Sunlight skitters over
the glowing arch of her neck.
It may shatter,
exposed and fragile as it is,
with her head on the mattress.
Shining strands of auburn hair,
splayed out like independence fireworks
upon the black satin night,
might just ignite
under heated gazes.
Rippling rays move
like dancers in a lost ballet
upon her vertebrae.
Their toes leaving trails,
a slightly smoldering path on pale-shy skin.
And the sun rose,
smiting those dreamers with wax wings.
White curtains fluttered in the breeze,
and the flames engulfed her.
RAISIN
Freeverse
I am a raisin, lost in a place where it is always dark.
Sometimes a light comes through, and it is less dark.
But, nevertheless, it is always dark.
Here, there is absence, not only of light, but of hope.
It is late. It is dark.
I am waiting for you to rescue me,
Though I know you will not come.
I am always awake, I am never at rest.
I have shrunken. I feel the size of a grain-
A grain of sand, a grain of ash, a grain of dirt-
A warm, wet grain of dirt, warm from your spit.
I used to be a plump, rich grape.
But, I have transformed,
from a plump, rich grape to a shriveled up raisin.
A dry, lifeless r
What can you really find at the end of that path,
Does your shallow speculation, rendered from some painful altercation
Drive you forward into that abyss of self discovery that pulses deep within the soul,
A casual walk down memory lane to find a source to blame,
An ink blot on your pristine white, A scar?
Can you really pluck a feather from your plume free of doubt or consequences
No.
I spent a life inside my head, perpetual existence incarnate,
Not quite sane or insane, but a beautiful state of consciousness.
Where what you seek leads you on with a coy smile,
But always just out of reach,
I'm just a boy who walks everywhere,
I
Current Residence: Fleet UK deviantWEAR sizing preference: M Favourite genre of music: Anything unusual :) Neurofunk atm Favourite photographer: - Favourite style of art: Pencil Sketches Operating System: XP MP3 player of choice: Ipod Shell of choice: - Wallpaper of choice: - Skin of choice: - Favourite cartoon character: Goku Personal Quote: Creativity confined to a word count...irony perhaps
Favourite Visual Artist
H.R Giger
Favourite Movies
Final Fantasy Advent Children/ The Butterfly Effect
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
(Too many to account for but most most recently Tyondai Braxton)
Favourite Writers
Jean Paul Satre
Favourite Games
Civillization IV
Favourite Gaming Platform
PC
Other Interests
Contemporary Music and Arts/ Philosophy/Eating Out/Alternative Night's Out
I have recently created my musician profile to be in conjunction with my DeviantArt profile as it is painfully aware to me DeviantArt do not cater for such needs (most likely related to copyright infringement possibilities because of people uploading other peoples works) However all my pieces are my own and in a "Contemporary Classical" idiom :) if you would like to check it out follow the My Showcase rabit
P.s Also featured is my piece for music and film featuring excepts of the film Candy
Rohan Moran
Just finished watching the film the Libertine.. so beautifully written it conveys so justly the world of the struggling artist and the world that meets them..a perspective all their own and the epitaph of opposition. So poetically written possibly my favorite film even though it brought a tear to my eye...ironic that a "play" made me feel when not a lot can as in the film. The ending scene...wow
Do you like me now...
Do you like me now...
Do you like me now...
Good night