Six roses by his deathbed
I kept just one for me
Just in case
In all my days
My death would set me free.
White for his sweet caution
With some girl, only nine
With bruises black
and body torn
A face almost deformed.
Gray for love forbidden
With some girl, much too young
Unspoken truths
a missing tooth
And cuts that bled and stung.
Gold though aged and jaded
A hero far unsung
A stallion though far gone
Though aching, just as warm
Pink for sweet caresses
Despite her ripped-up dresses
A kiss goodnight
The pain put right
Enough to last the monster.
Another day, another page
Nothing much will ever change
Another girl, at God enraged
While wee
Alas, moments of interest
There are two glowing spheres
One, of gray, being quite far
And one, of white, so near.
They crawl like slugs upon the rocks
Of what we call the paths,
Of what we deemed the earth,
While others crawl the sky.
Nonchalant, they wander
So aimless, lacking sight,
For not one of these glowing spheres
Are any shade of white.
For interest's sake I stopped.
To relish what is known.
Awaiting what is doomed to be
Logic, overthrown.
My heart stops for a moment
It hopes for what is false, it
Pretends surprise like children
Pretends our lives like men.
A moment of excitement
Creates a time of joy.
For once
Today, you are forgotten
Tonight, in bed you lie
Tomorrow, alive and well, perhaps, or
Erased forever.
Die.
We wander streets in apathy,
Waiting, waiting, why?
The sun is out, the skies are white,
And we, the ghosts, are alive.
Tomorrow, we, forgotten too,
Deserve no sympathy.
For never did we realize that
A friend was on its knees.
But would would dare to think to be
Known by careless fools as we
Waiting, waiting, waiting, for
What we'd never care to be?
Tonight, you'll be forgotten.
But may it fortunate be
For never was a crueler place
Than inside the minds of we.
Hello, Mister Ceiling.
Today, no one noticed
Your textured white paint.
It forms shadows, like people.
Like elephants, like shapes.
It's really, too bad
That no one looked up.
They were all looking down on
Their little black books
That read out their names.
(And mine does the same.)
But the people and animals and colors and shapes
Now color the sky in a whimsical way
And float, peaceful, by this bed that I lay
So still and quiet and I can but pray
That tomorrow will be a bit...
Nicer? Well...
This evening, this evening
I'm pleased that I'm breathing
That no one has seen me
I hope I was dreaming.
You sit far above me
Congratulations, mademoiselle!
It's very clear and can't you tell?
With all your slaves and maids as well...
You are the queen of England.
Politics, pictures, parties, and fame
All belong to you, my dame.
Let them bestow a ballgown of silk
To your beloved shoulders.
The other day, I noticed at
Our first meal in May,
You'd taken far too much and now
Your figure is a shame.
Your steps are fine, I'm guessing
But the pace is much too brisk.
You cannot lead a nation with such
Paces, such like like this.
You take such wretched pictures, dear
Your smile's far too wide.
Age is eating at your eyes and
Frankly, you're a mess.
When
Goodnight, my friends, upon this patch
Of innocence
Of falsified indifference
Pretending sickness
For sympathy's sake
Goodnight, my friends, goodnight.
I bid thee farewell with a beautiful grave
Surrounded by flowers, waters, a gate
That shuts and locks, with lock and key
So that you might
When sickness comes
Feel safe and still without me.
I pat the ground with my cold hands
And whisper my best wishes and
Promising, dears, I'll visit.
It takes me days to
Shake my head
And lock the gate
And say again
I've lingered far too long.
Goodnight, my friends, within this gate
Of silence
Of falsified dismay
Pretending love
Fo
Six roses by his deathbed
I kept just one for me
Just in case
In all my days
My death would set me free.
White for his sweet caution
With some girl, only nine
With bruises black
and body torn
A face almost deformed.
Gray for love forbidden
With some girl, much too young
Unspoken truths
a missing tooth
And cuts that bled and stung.
Gold though aged and jaded
A hero far unsung
A stallion though far gone
Though aching, just as warm
Pink for sweet caresses
Despite her ripped-up dresses
A kiss goodnight
The pain put right
Enough to last the monster.
Another day, another page
Nothing much will ever change
Another girl, at God enraged
While wee
Alas, moments of interest
There are two glowing spheres
One, of gray, being quite far
And one, of white, so near.
They crawl like slugs upon the rocks
Of what we call the paths,
Of what we deemed the earth,
While others crawl the sky.
Nonchalant, they wander
So aimless, lacking sight,
For not one of these glowing spheres
Are any shade of white.
For interest's sake I stopped.
To relish what is known.
Awaiting what is doomed to be
Logic, overthrown.
My heart stops for a moment
It hopes for what is false, it
Pretends surprise like children
Pretends our lives like men.
A moment of excitement
Creates a time of joy.
For once
Today, you are forgotten
Tonight, in bed you lie
Tomorrow, alive and well, perhaps, or
Erased forever.
Die.
We wander streets in apathy,
Waiting, waiting, why?
The sun is out, the skies are white,
And we, the ghosts, are alive.
Tomorrow, we, forgotten too,
Deserve no sympathy.
For never did we realize that
A friend was on its knees.
But would would dare to think to be
Known by careless fools as we
Waiting, waiting, waiting, for
What we'd never care to be?
Tonight, you'll be forgotten.
But may it fortunate be
For never was a crueler place
Than inside the minds of we.
Hello, Mister Ceiling.
Today, no one noticed
Your textured white paint.
It forms shadows, like people.
Like elephants, like shapes.
It's really, too bad
That no one looked up.
They were all looking down on
Their little black books
That read out their names.
(And mine does the same.)
But the people and animals and colors and shapes
Now color the sky in a whimsical way
And float, peaceful, by this bed that I lay
So still and quiet and I can but pray
That tomorrow will be a bit...
Nicer? Well...
This evening, this evening
I'm pleased that I'm breathing
That no one has seen me
I hope I was dreaming.
You sit far above me
Congratulations, mademoiselle!
It's very clear and can't you tell?
With all your slaves and maids as well...
You are the queen of England.
Politics, pictures, parties, and fame
All belong to you, my dame.
Let them bestow a ballgown of silk
To your beloved shoulders.
The other day, I noticed at
Our first meal in May,
You'd taken far too much and now
Your figure is a shame.
Your steps are fine, I'm guessing
But the pace is much too brisk.
You cannot lead a nation with such
Paces, such like like this.
You take such wretched pictures, dear
Your smile's far too wide.
Age is eating at your eyes and
Frankly, you're a mess.
When
Goodnight, my friends, upon this patch
Of innocence
Of falsified indifference
Pretending sickness
For sympathy's sake
Goodnight, my friends, goodnight.
I bid thee farewell with a beautiful grave
Surrounded by flowers, waters, a gate
That shuts and locks, with lock and key
So that you might
When sickness comes
Feel safe and still without me.
I pat the ground with my cold hands
And whisper my best wishes and
Promising, dears, I'll visit.
It takes me days to
Shake my head
And lock the gate
And say again
I've lingered far too long.
Goodnight, my friends, within this gate
Of silence
Of falsified dismay
Pretending love
Fo
Current Residence: Idaho Favourite genre of music: Chamber Pop, Indie, Power Metal, Trance/Rave Favourite style of art: Conceptual, Macro Photography Operating System: Windows XP Favourite cartoon character: Calvin from "Calvin and Hobbes" Personal Quote: "If I can keep one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain." -Emily Dickinson
As you all have seen, I have not been very active in the dA community for a while now.
1. I can't think of anything worthwhile to create.
2. I've been busy as hell with my rifle shooting.
3. There's something cool about a list of three.
But suddenly, out of nowhere, these rainbows explode in my brain and suddenly two pages of notebook paper have been written upon. A dozen of songs passed by on the Pandora station. So, after a few hours, I brushed it up, typed it up, and put it up on here. Let me know what you guys think of it.
I feel the need to draw, and I currently have a nice picture in my head. Sadly enough, my motivation is at abou
As you guys can see, I've been gravitating to photography more and more over the past year. Since this would otherwise have no direction, I'll outline this entry with some hypothetical questions possibly asked by the public that really isn't asking them. And... probably wouldn't. Ah, well.
1. What?! But you used to draw!
Yes, and you used to wear diapers. Interests change. I just happened to acquire an interest towards photography and photomanipulation. No worries, I still draw, but I'm just tired of my scanner skewing my intentions. I'm also tired of my drawings feeling so flat because I've been unable to put any feeling into them anymore.
[ ] Acarophobia - Fear of itching or of the insects that cause itching.
[ ] Aeroarcophobia - Fear of open high spaces.
[ ] Acrophobia - Fear of heights.
[ ] Agateophobia - Fear of insanity.
[ ] Achluophobia - Fear of darkness
[*] Agraphobia - Fear of sexual abuse.
[ ] Agliophobia - Fear of pain.
[*] Amnesiphobia - Fear of amnesia.
[ ] Astrophobia - Fear of stars or celestial space.
[ ] Automantonophobia - Fear of ventriloquist's dummies, animatronic creatures, wax statues, or anything that falsely represents a sentient being.
[*] Athazagoraphobia - Fear of being forgotten or ignored or forgetting.
[*] Agoraphobia - Fear of open spa
Hello, My name is Kama Peck and I am the co-founder of DesignTheCure.com. DesignTheCure is a website built to help aspiring artists sell their work while helping the world. We put your photos and designs on display and if another users buys your photo, you get 50% of the profit, the other 50% goes to a charity of the buyers choice.
I am contacting you because I would like to put some of your photos on display. It is free to submit your photos and you can expose your photography to people around the world as well as have a chance to make some money, and know that with every sale you are helping to save lives. If you would like some more information on DesignTheCure please visit [link] If you have any questions feel free to contact me at DesignTheCure@gmail.com
Thanks for your time, I look forward to speaking with you.
Kama Peck DesignTheCure.com - Buy art, save lives!