Scream. You awake. You scream too. You start to cry. He runs in, worried. It's his fault he says. Silence. Quiet, but growing louder and louder until it's a scream. The screams are dull. You're not thinking. There's only Red. Numb. He looks at you, unwavering. He doesn't hear you. He absorbs your screams. Ham or beef, he asks softly. Anger. Tears flow. You can't speak. He leaves you alone. But he returns later with a sandwich. You feel Exhausted. ----- Voices out there talking about you quietly behind your back. You head out there. Who is it? Good morning! Staring. Scream. Get out. It's their fault. It's all their fault. You want them gone. You blame them. Leave me Alone. Hands. Grabbing you. Everyone looks mortified. They look especially stunned. But you don't care. You continue screaming, Go away. Leave. Water. You're tired. Everything is blurry. He sounds so tired. You aren't being fair. You know this. You're still Livid.
There’s something horribly wrong with my son. He’s six months old, and life started as normally as most children’s. My wife and I were absolutely thrilled when we found out she was pregnant. We spent months designing and creating his bedroom, we went to parenting classes, and invested in the best monitoring and safety equipment we could afford. Looking back, we probably went a little overboard, but he was our first child, and how could we not? We had been trying to conceive for four years, and had just about given up hope when he was conceived.
My wife is very earthy, she prefers organic, and natural products. She’s n
Hibakusha (Little Boys Fly) by James-Polymer, literature
Literature
Hibakusha (Little Boys Fly)
Verse 1 –
My eyes turned to the sky–
it was so bright, I cried.
I stood and held my breath
knowing I’d become death.
When Shiva crossed the sea
to war’s cacophony.
Spoke his heraldic sage,
“The dawn of a new age.”
See the little boy fly,
into the blood-red sky.
Chorus –
That’s when the sky hit the ceiling
and all the sand turned to glass.
That’s when the rooftops were reeling
and all the tenses were past.
Verse 2 –
It all went in a flash;
the blossoms burned to ash.
My searching skyward gaze
went bleeding down my face.
The angel raised his bow;
both man and beast lai
Artists and poets exchange ideas. All their hopes and fears. In cyberspace is where they meet. Sharing thoughts, coffee and sweets. The Cyber Cafe is at the heart of our creativity - Cheers!
Dear, deviantart fellow artists
Confidence is very meaningful thing for an artist - It helps us to not be afraid of our goals, but we have to remind ourselves that too much of the ego can lead to arrogance and vanity. Here goes my thoughts about the topic and I hope that my insights might be helpful. :)
How to boost the confidence?
If you feel that you are not good enough and you lack the willingness to make & post artworks, just because someone else is better, you don't have the right skill and there is not enough time, and there is no point in that... stop. You are good enough and you have everything you need and there is no rea
Anubis / Dawn over the Nile by C4A2Todd, literature
Literature
Anubis / Dawn over the Nile
These are strange winds, the winds of change,
Lifting the blood’s smell off my hands,
These are strange lights, the lights of dawn,
A ray of hope that just never bends.
This night I countered my nightmares
And I’m not sure whether I won the fight:
I became old by the break of dawn
Though at sundown I was still a child.
This night I broke, this night I forfeited
My peaceful dreams, my thoughts, my sanity,
Still it’s naught but a moment against
My prize: a regained eternity.
This night I changed the way I would
By travelling a hundred thousand miles,
Still I can forget I’ll never be the same
Watching the sunrise over
RedundantRedMetaphors and PoorManipulationAttempts by EmaciatedandEpitaphs, literature
Literature
RedundantRedMetaphors and PoorManipulationAttempts
i.
The smell of blood and rust-flaked fingerprints
graze sideways against my senses
and though I detest clichéd statements,
I feel generic phrases
spill sloppily
through these
chapped-lips and chagrin.
'I caught you red handed.'
He only grins.
'It's all about point-of-view,
perception...'
ii.
I grip the shimmering fabric
betwixt these fidgeting fists,
wishing for high-thread count consistency,
for anything other than the fluidity
bleeding through my phalanges.
-
'...some might see roses,
others see lovers or bloodied tenacity. Me,
I always see silk.'
ii.
As ever,
I remain a shiver
in this seismic tremor.
Merely a fracture
in
overheard in the laboratory by PatchworkLynx, literature
Literature
overheard in the laboratory
(Fe)elings travel in
beats / minute through a
systemic road map of one-way veins
vena cava bringing
claret to the crossroads of your
arteries >> the rooms of the heart are iron rich.
and a stethoscope pressed
against feverish skin / found the sound
of your semilunar valves shutting / not
contractions timed by
tripping calcium2+ channels
"you can't hear your heart pumping,
you can only hear the doors closing."