|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
mash potatoes n dave-Ei get so paranoid i give myself a heart attack-
then i see secret messages when the shards crack back-
man i go hard and act wack-
see stars n fall on my back-
i cant feel my arms and legs and it frightens me as a matter of fact-
this shit whips me into a frenzy laced panic attack-
i spit shit that'll get messy ace and call it spastic rap-
it might even be a magic act-
a slightly genius drastic flashback-
im fightin these evil demons from hell who have come to drag me back-
so i said cut me some slack-
and then i busted some caps-
put my finger on the trigger then i pulled that motherfucker back-
that officially labels me a demon slayer-
you listening satan imma see you later-
make me some fuckin eggs and fry me some taters-
breakfast tastes like hell i cant wait for lunch later-
i love brunch man so fuck you haters-
yo i cut up some honeydew melon, any takers?
fuck that i want cake n make it devils food-
i bust raps for days its cake i represent it dude-
360 spun like full circles get
no need to explaindancing into the abstract, steppin' up the kicks and poppin' up with the collar, peep a mothafucka standin' alot taller... breathe in the new ways, ease the truth, no need to explain, this is shifting into the new image to ascertain... this is the new definition of bein' high, scrapin' the skyz, fulfilling a personal meaning of completeness in the eyez, cuz life likes to administer its unique feeling of surprise... rockin' it, preference is to fly, fly with the wind and the breeze and the lights, like it when they blink, i see style within mystique, feel it when words cause deep thinking... what others see as random and absent of meaning, only one has the ability and piece of mine/peace of mind to really see and feel the meaning, and i mean this deeply, this i know theres no need to explain but within me it carries just so god damn much meaning....
self-transforming machine elvesdon't get distracted
by the patterns of activity
as you climb-
keep soaring forward
until you blast through
to the other side-
a whole new world
where time is swirled
and the entities are so happy you've arrived-
speaking in objects,
you must remember their message,
because it will deeply affect your life-
the same spotthe mist of the meaning
i ingest what you're feeling
broken down like compounds
there's something about downtown
i aim to feel release
from defeat, these city's streets
invisible moving and shaking
this town ain't what you make it
it's nothing to trade your life for
sitting in the same spot every minute
just the same old shit, same fucking shit
sun goes up and down like a slow motion strobe light
in this battle if you don't know, don't fight-
versatile forms of lyrical functionsmixes in with the least of things
like the feverish heat it brings
standing there watching time slow
inside that stare its so well known
its all around its swirling out here
so it turns out i'm an imagineer
i disappear from faulty retrospect
never take for granted introspect
i suspect things always work out
or serendipity will dissipate doubt
how nice is perpetual high spirits
i'm fearless like, "i won't hear this."
only thing that i hold sacred
is the unimaginable way to take it
meaningful waves will flood you
words are real and ring the truth
never let fallacies slip and contort
face reality don't sell yourself short
remember to always laugh at shit
for this is all just holographic shit-
no floatconfused thoughts
is my bad habit
getting lost at sea
criss-crossing the Atlantic
through my brain
with torrential downpours
is my thinking
i wave goodbye
as i'm sinking-
agitatedthese random faces of insignificant specks
all drastically chasing their own shadowy deaths-
progression is stealing my breath, because a destiny of nothing left
has got me collapsing under the debt that i owe to myself
but theres nothing left-
theres nothing left, look through to me,
i got a few screws loose, but thats nothing new to me-
i'm agitated, over-imaginative, and lacking a sensible way to explain this
what the fuck is going on i cant take this
swervin' out my brain, burnin' out the day-
this is a nice way to see the night go away-
im thinkin ultra-clear but all signs say braindead-
im feelin' so vivid although my swayz stay faded-
lets see how many "wtf's happening"'s i got left: none-
this is why at times i dont mind clouds blocking the sun-
the entire sky can peep me leavin my gaze up there-
my tired mind needs peace due to drastic collapses of care-
nevertheless, my inner fire still smolders-
unaffected by the worlds gradually gettin colder-
i just shake the dust off my mothafuckin shoulders-
continue to rack my brain about a Golden Moment Smoker-
fleeting moments gettin gone in an instant-
see im right there but my lifes just lackin the live in it-
it is what it is, and this is all just poetic radiation-
"im sorry you had a bad dream" i said with a smile, and a heart racin...-
the ENDyou set me free
skippin' off the tops of trees
past the point of where eyes can see
it nags at me to feel the rush
of falling so fast i recoil and
reset my internal hourglass so
we can both feel that thunder-
crash... so naturally comes that
proper way to act, so expect me
to properly react if, and when, i
feel wind screaming, blasting
at my face......
WickedMorgana, in the cowering darkened city; neon is dead. Theatres all play the same movie, over and over again. No one watches; they’re all in their basements or ancient fallout shelters. Morgana’s heels clack pavement, and the echo goes on forever.
Feast on your tins of peanut butter and crackers; Morgana feasts on minds. Minds like yours, soft like veal. Everyone said this night would come, but no one believed it would be now. How could it be, when just yesterday the playgrounds were filled with sunlight and laughter?
Lightning cracks sky and illumes devastation, wretchedness, emptiness. Lions have escaped the zoos, and roam the streets hungry and fierce. The wind howls your name as you sit in the darkness wearing your foil hat. Morgana laughs, and laughs, and laughs.
And the echo goes on forever; like carnival music at a funeral, like a grave robber’s laugh, like handbills flying down an alley for a play that was never produced; like a child lost in the crowds, like t
if alice in wonderland was set in 2012,i might cut my hair if it didn't remind me of you,
but just like the fade from september into the pits of october,
i'm not alice, this isn't wonderland, but i am just as surrounded by things that yell,
"eat me! drink me!" and they don't say it but i know they'll all make me bigger,
sadder, fatter, too big to fit into a house, my arms my legs come shooting out,
everything i feel is just too loud-
i should be better than i am.
i should be taking the world by the shoulders, shaking back its shoulders because i am a storm, i am a force of nature and you will take notice-
but my winds are quiet. my rain is sad.
i'm too afraid to swell up in full vigor,
to take what is mine in case it's taken from me again,
i will never forget what you did- in camera flash moments, in sharp moments-
to leave me broken.
there are some cuts that never close up.
there are some things that never get spoken.
and there are some things yo
the atlantic ocean is big enough to hide secretsin that twilight period of summer turning to fall-
in that bend in the road from september to october-
i couldn't explain it but i so desperately wanted to send a piece of myself to you
so you would have something to look forward to
i said, if there's a force to change the tides and turn the earth
and people think it's the most essential force in this world,
then i know they've never met you.
'who me? little old me?'
yes you, little old you,
you have enough resonance in the beats of your heart
to make armies march,
you have enough light in your smile
to make a blind man see,
you have enough magnitude in everything you do
to cause earthquakes to destroy the world,
or maybe just me:
i would die in your hands if you would only let me.
the beginning of october is stunning when the colours
are like fire engines and fireflies and fireworks.
bright flashes of everything that is beautiful and nothing that is hurt.
but after an immense burst of light;
The Story of a Boy. [An Original Poem-thing]
The Story of a Boy.
This is the story of a boy.
Who had lost his mother.
He had a father.
Who did not a care.
The poor little boy.
He never had friends.
All alone in a town.
Which was almost a barren land.
At the age of seven.
Something new happened.
A family moved in.
Into the barren town.
They had a little girl.
With her lovely dark curls.
And new friends they became.
The lonely boy and the bonny gal.
But the boy, he wasn’t.
What he seemed to be.
In his head there were demons.
Demons, waiting to be unleashed.
When the day arrived.
And the boy lost his mind.
He tortured the young girl
to her death.
Oh, it was such an evil crime.
The girl she returned
in her reincarnated form.
She was only four,
while the boy was eleven.
Shocked at her resemblance
with the girl he once met.
He tricked her yet again,
and again, she was killed.
Again she returned,
as her soul never rests.
her mind doesn’t remember
but her spirit deman
Slow Your RollSlow your roll; take one day at a time. Life is easier to process in small doses. Do not be concerned, with the shit you can’t change, because that’s just a waste of time. Keep your eye on the prize, but don’t let it consume you, else you’ll find no joy, at the end of that ride. Do the things that make you happy, because you’re no good to anyone, without that.
The music we hear today...In my opinion, The true meaning of music will die shortly,
Since people only care of being big and famous and get money for their own,
And they never share their success unless they'll gain some glory,
But they'res some people who makes music to make people feel better,
or who explains what the world looks like in their eyes,
And the best part, they'll never be traitors,
Like the ones who betray the way of true music,
Those people were called emos, Satan's children, or just plain weird,
because most people's taste of music is getting more sick,
But, I'm one of their fans and that's what keeps me stronger,
And in the future, I want to destroy someone else's sense of "justice"
With the power of true music, and to regain our peaceful order,
Because, I don't want our future generations in pain or just plain shallow,
If I do that, I'll save the true music in no time~!
Dear YouOkay, we need to talk
I know bygones are bygones
But I can’t get you gone
Out of my head.
I keep remembering what was said
And how it led to you leaving
And I can’t shake these feelings
And I just wish that you had stayed.
If only I knew what to say or do at the time
To remind you how happy you were to be mine
And how happy I was to be yours.
I kept thinking my pain would ease with time
But as these years went by my pain only grew
And I knew my love for you was real.
It’s been at least two years since we spoke
And nothing has changed: It is still real
And I’m still here
And every promise I made to you still stands.
.:We are the Proxies:.this is a game...
you cant choose how to win...
No one will win...
There are many of us in this game
but yet there are no winners...
The objective of the game is to serve....
To serve the one who is our difference between life and death....
Acceptance and discrimination....
He says that we wouldn't last one minuet in their world....
We believe him....but wish we didn't have to....
We want to go there...
because we serve him....
Sand slipping awayThey tell me that I have the world in my hands
But all I see is sand slipping away in the hour glass.
I let an hour pass just to watch the day wisp away
Before being sure that I can't control the way the wind blows.
Who truly knows where the wind will end up taking us
Once the day is done, the diploma is won, and we walk off stage.
We turn the page, a new act in life's grand play,
We know our parts by heart, but forget our lines anyway.
We all have grand plans, wanting to brand our names into history
Uncaring of the mystery as to why so few names are remembered.
Straight from the cradle, we are thrust into a new type of light.
As the dust settles, we feel alright, but we know something is wrong.
All along when we were with our fathers and our mothers,
We never dreamed of finding others to help survive these wastes.
Some follow temptation, finding salvation in wasting away,
But the rest of us continue to attempt to seize the day.
With the sand our caps and gowns drift away, we pick up o
zero resultswhen everyday seems just the same
you know its hard to maintain
that little sparkle in my eye
its just the darkness of life
i think im runnin out of tries
i think im dumb and im blind
i think i might actually be losin
what is left of my mind-
so where we at is the first dimension/
groups of shapes/
failin to find a way to correct this sense of misdirection/
aided by a case of nervous awkward apprehension-
Keep in Touch!
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