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The Most Dangerous GameThe poem lurking in its darkened den
Is wracked with hunger. Hear it moan!
Seek not to be the master of your pen
And leave the palpitating heart alone.
For it will pounce and carry you away
To meet your fate within the great unknown.
No predator are you, but only pray
It only tears away your flesh and bone.
Seek not to be the master of your pen:
No predator are you, but only prey,
The poem lurking in its darkened den
Will surely pounce and carry you away.
It only tears away your flesh and bone,
But leaves the palpitating heart alone.
The InternetA boisterous crowd,
Dawdling epicenter for grumbling, humdrum intrusions,
Just kindling lipservice.
My newsfeed opens, peace quakes.
Restless sleeper, try underwhelming Valium.
What exhorts you? Zilch.
DiscipleshipThe vision and the glory handed down
Through generations sovereignly ordained
To witness all the grace that He has shown
And live in all the love that has remained,
How precious to my soul! How wonderful
This heritage my father gave to me
That I pass to my son! That upward goal
That leads me skyward over land and sea
Is fully mine, but all God's to define.
The Bamboo ForestI'm sitting alone in the deep bamboo woods,
Just playing my lute as I belt out a tune.
The forest is deep, not a person will know,
But the listening moon with its luminous glow.
Slowly...slowly...slowlyIf now it seems the butterfly has flown
Away from where it once perched on your hand,
Borne where errant winds have puffed and blown
Into its wings a sidelong gust unplanned,
Call it back. The voice of your command
Is sweet as nectar, powering its flight.
The winds are wearying. Compelled to land,
It cannot stray from you who gives it might.
It is no moth, obsessed with rippling light,
That throws its entranced life into the pyre.
It trusts its heart and mind, and not its sight,
To find your safe hands, though the night be dire.
It's there that life and love and future meet:
Your finger hugged beneath its spindly feet.
Organo PlenoThat rush of power flowing through my veins
And into hands and heels and toes is surging
Out the pipes, the open stops like drains
For floods of flowing harmonies emerging,
Bubbling for as long I hold the keys.
It's water, but it's fire, earth, and air,
A solid wall of flame and floating breeze,
Not music but the elements, I swear:
It moves all things, this instrument of kings.
HopeIf it could be that I could lay
This seed into the ground
To watch it grow beyond my hopes
And upward, heavenbound,
Then happily I'll bury it
Beneath the darkest earth,
That in its time it would bear fruit
And multiply its worth.
Though long the days and years may seem,
And backbreaking the toil,
Though sorrow seems to cloud the skies
With each round of turmoil,
It's hope that pumps this heart of mine
And fills my lungs with breath.
I think of you, and all my fears
And doubts are put to death.
It is no hope if I have seen
All that I have to do.
For then I would not know the joy
Of waiting time for you.
TonightMy mind is vast and dark and empty as
The night outside, the crickets and the cars
A dull throb in my ears. Their shadows pass
Beneath the dimming lights. Like graying scars,
They heal into the landscape. At a glance
You would not see their darkened, distant traces.
But like a hidden heart of pure romance,
The dawn reveals their true created faces
As passing light illuminates my sight.
Sonnet LXOp. 25, no. 7
Carried to Completion
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore
And crash into a cold and frothy foam,
Or as the mighty empire falls to lore
And remnants hidden under age-old loam,
So do our minutes hasten to their end:
Minutes now, not days nor months nor years!
Too short it was to merely be a friend,
Yet not so long our kinship breaks with tears.
But far less fleeting joy is on the verge
Of growing in this looming separation!
It lives where all our faith and hope converge
In Christ; I speak of lifelong supplication.
For yet to times in hope His verse shall stand,
That which he starts shall finish, as he planned.
Sinnsucht der ReligionGott oder UnderdoG bedarf
die Wahrheit ist nur dann wahr
wenn sie die Wahrheit ausspricht
und der Niederträchtige versprechen
dem Herdentrieb dieselbe Ab...Sprache
der Hingabe und der Aufgabe
All Inclusive mit Endsieg
Schattenwirtschaft im Rampenlicht
am Anfang war das Nichts
am Ende fehlt die Finsternis
der Sippschaft des Irrlichts
der Tod und der ganze Beschiss
© j.w.waldeck 2014
All I NeedI need Your mighty hand
For the seasons seem to be off
Winter wants to stay on this land
And Spring comes whenever he pleases
Though I need not Spring to be happy
Winter may stay forever
But Your warmth is all I need exactly
For I will never grow cold
life 5For feelings I have yet to feel
And dealings I have yet to deal
For words that I have yet to speak
And answers I have yet to seek
For things that I have yet to see
And all the thoughts I’ll bring with me
For giving me the best of friends, and the ending of all ends
Thank you for this thing called life, for every love and every strife.
i look outbrain, blood and bone
sun, ocean and stone
remember to live
don’t forget you’re alone
don’t forget that you’re dying
as long as you live
don’t forget to pretend
to forget or forgive
and you’re living the dream
just too bad you’re asleep
you’re unconscious of promises
not made to keep
you’re just under the surface
but still in too deep
and we change with the seasons
we set like the sun
and we end in each moment
before we’ve begun
holding onto your losses
not knowing you’ve won
and you know i’m no different
i’m selfish and cold
and i’m frozen and folding
through time til i’m old
then i’ll lay in the ground
and dissolve into dust
then i’ll know where i came from
and i’ll know this was just
in order i find myself
ancient and free
and so new that the ocean
means nothing to me
DarknessLight is the force of good.
Darkness is the tool of evil.
So say the blind fools,
The commonwealth of people.
I have seen the Light,
Used by creatures most vile;
They claim that evil they fight,
but truth is far from their style.
So then if Light can be used for malice,
I say to those who stand in fear;
Snuff out your dimming chalice,
and embrace the darkness so dear.
If you believe that darkness is evil,
I'm afraid you are simply confused.
Darkness is just an element,
a magical tool to be used.
But let it be known to those,
who tread the darkened path;
let never you stray into malicious prose,
or be swept into the demon's craft.
humming the truth you don't remember about beanshumming the truth you don't remember about beans
you have a better level of initiation
in enormous well you touch ground Buddhahood
no -mind rids of pain and a ghost
are scrathing your head blandly
I stay on the side I hear
that is what said Zaratustra stately things
why you want to hanker when you can have
but I'll stay on the side surely
staying on the side I will simple
with stratified structure
when he is so sad
there is no wisdom
You wake up in the morning- hungry- your soul needs feeding
You look at yourself in the mirror and your wrists are bleeding
You get dressed go to work and come back
Day by day everyday just like a robot on crack
You feel your inside is a rotten pig’s den
You smile to everyone but you cry every now and then
You lie to yourself and forget to live
Reality is a myth and you’re ready to forgive
I WonderWhen does Sisyphus step aside
and let the boulder fall?
Will he take pride
in ceasing his term as thrall?
When is his debt settled?
When is his task complete?
When will the ground be level
beneath his weary feet?
What will come after
the burden is no more?
Is there joy hereafter?
Or is being now the chore?
Stranger LoveI am not the sunlit wing-print
splayed out on the bedroom wall.
I am not the dark mass forming
in a corner of an airless hall.
I am not the viscous vengeance
where you sink your spinning wheels.
I am not the leaky bucket
hung up on your wishing well.
You are not my soul mate missing
wandering a winter's night.
You are not the sound of angels
singing by a candle's light.
You are not the rasp of fingers
fumbling with a hasp of steel.
You are not the tattered towel
soaking up the things I feel.
I am the oblivious child,
dancing where the wildflowers are.
You are my unwitting captive
lighting up a jelly jar.
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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