|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
The Game of Passion v1Passion is a game you see.
You're one move away from losing.
Two moves from winning.
And three moves from a surprise.
But what really is winning?
And how do you go about losing?
Just play the game.
You make your moves and you take your steps.
Let go, breathe in, take a chance.
They'll laugh because they don't understand,
And you'll do just the same.
Knight to Queen's heart 3.
It wasn't ever about the king.
Surprise... you never did understand that.
AngerSimple mistakes are my favorite brand of perfection.
And Acid is my favorite ingredient in eye-drops.
It's an art the way I can topple a house of cards.
And there's anger in the way I tenderly re-assemble it.
I fight with silence and hide behind hugs, kisses, and affection.
It's a low blow honestly, but no one really made any rules.
Playing a game you'll never win, but in the end we're all losers.
Giving up is the only way to find out if you could have won.
And if you're losing you've already succeeded
But then again, maybe it's just me, and maybe it's just today.
College DietI'm on a strict college diet.
Living on liqueur, sex and sin.
It's a lonley little life.
The lit match in the darkness.
The lone moth drawn to the flame.
Puff of smoke disaster
Lungfuls of love.
Honestly UsI'm not out to please anyone
I'm not out to impress them
I just lied
I'll never lie without telling you
That's the truth right there.
You intrigue me
You hate me.
You feel nothing.
That's ok, I'm still enamored.
You don't care.
As long as you smile.
As long as you are almost happy.
Ignorance is bliss.
As is neglecting pain.
You're beautiful, you know that.
I'm not, and I know that too.
ChameleonThere's art in the kitchen, a painting to be exact. Water, blue sky, and seagulls. There's a tarantula on the bottom shelf of an open display case, it never moves but it changes position every once in a while. The father has a clean shaven head and a bushy goatee. They've beer in their hands and pot in their veins. They like it that way. 45 and 50 year old boys mingle without hesitation with the 16 through 18 year olds in the living room. Ultimate fighting is on the T.V. as a blunt is passed to every hand save one. As it goes around the atmosphere relaxes still more and humor flows lightly from my lips and laughter is pulled from my stomach. So this is them? Odd, they're not how I expected them, not how I remember them described. They're not the marvel characters you had me expect, but then again, who really is? There's a bowl now, small green and packed with the colored substance to match. Again it passes from hand to hand, save one and that heavy sweet smoke fills the air. They have
Let the Sparrows InI.
Blackbirds rest on the power lines,
their silhouettes form the notation
to a dawn song set on the sheet music
of telephone poles contrasted by the sun.
Curled leaves are land mines littered
on the lawn where imprints of twigs
and a nurturing robin's tracks collect.
Branchlets and leaflets stem from
porch step railings and mailboxes;
the numbers read odd on the east,
even on the west side of the asphalt:
The engraved letters on
the siding reads, "Davis."
This house is home to family
so let the sparrows in.
with its branching hallways
furniture rooted to the floor
family, friends, the occasional
out from home.
Let the sparrows in; let
Let the door's
loosen—let the door stand ajar
be let open
the night owls and
let the doves
in pairs in the iridescent
Let the sparrows in.
Framed on either side
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