Hmm.They sit atop lilypads in swamps, and at night, they submerge into the murky waters. In the morning, they rise up out of the water, unscathed, and as beautiful as they were the day before.
Newest
A Certain ShadeHe's afraid To sleep because of what haunts him, Eternally strapped to the train tracks of hindsight. An invasion of his psyche so powerful that If I siphoned it out of his ear while he was asleep And dropped the test tube in the street, It would probably blow the concrete to smithereens. The blue sky would be filledA Certain Shade
With grey dust, The atmosphere cloaked in a haze of gloom. It seems so fitting that my eyes Mirror the Blue-grey skies of his mind. It should be understood that I understand. The "what-ifs" continue Breaking and entering Into his subc
by ~thrucloudedeyes
Realization.She never orders lemon meringue... Maybe today, her luck has changed, Or maybe just herRealization.
Mind. We're dangling daisies on our Open doors, Warm patches of sunlight Resting on our floors. Eyes closed, Hopes higher than the thresholds. Does the mind layer the sharp corners Of its memory With soft, grey, billowy cobwebs? Collecting ear-to-ear grins And eye-to-chin tears, Collecting countless moments, Too much smoke,
Not enough fire; Collecting ashes and dust particles. Due to their everpresent nature, Knowing every kiss and tend
by ~thrucloudedeyes
FossilizationOur bodies Still twist and experiment In ways Trying to simulate the sound Of sugar cubes meltingFossilization
In those Fiercely persistent raindrops. When time stops, And the air holds us there, Captivated by the energy Of our auras. The streets saw us walking on them. The doors heard us unlocking, The walls tasted the sweat on our backs, And the windows took in the scent Of sweet, earthy tobacco smoke And the lingering smell of your soap. It was us Who didn't feel each other. We were disharmony In Nature's laws, Unsung. An
by ~thrucloudedeyes
PhantasmHe was every poemPhantasm
She ever wanted to write. And he knew it, Disregarded it. Through conversation
And cracks in the ceiling, She smiled her chapstick smile. Whispered into her lips, His words became kisses. Wishing he would seal
Those kisses with blood, Her counterfeit wisdom told her They'd be together forever. Maybe. That was all he ever said. Maybe after maybe, A string of maybes that Cluttered their carpets, Hardwood floors, ceilings and walls, Lined her pillowcases and his collar, Hid under their beds
And befri
by ~thrucloudedeyes
Favourites
deviantID
Devious Info
- Current Residence: Detroit
- Interests: The world and all the culture it contains.
- Favourite movie: Pulp Fiction
- Favourite band or musician: Many.
- Favourite genre of music: Anything and everything.
- Favourite artist: Dali
- Favourite poet or writer: I have a few in mind, but mainly slam poets in general.
- Favourite photographer: Wolfgang Tillmans
- Shell of choice: Turtle.
- Favourite game: Drinking.
- Personal Quote: "In a world of theives, the only final sin is stupidity." -Hunter S. Thompson
- Tools of the Trade: 35 mm Pentax camera, Quantaray lens
- Website: http://www.myspace.com/thrucloudedeyes
- Email: knottydreadlocks@yahoo.com
- AIM: thrucloudedeyes
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--
Stepped In The Booth With An Empty Page - Freestylin' Tryin' To Empty Rage.
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I'm trying to become a professional photographer. Give me some pointers, people!
--
It could all be so simple,
But you'd rather make it hard.
Loving you is like a battle,
And we both end up with scars.
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An acrobat amongst his ship, even in the stormiest of seas.
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The sense of life is becoming truly happy inside
(I got it when waking up)
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It could all be so simple,
But you'd rather make it hard.
Loving you is like a battle,
And we both end up with scars.
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