[x]

Rapatatat.Feeling, breathing, believing;
seeing, being, achieving.

It's all about the love, about the passion;
about the can v's the cant's, about construction.

It's the you in me, it's the us in them;
it's the truth in the lies, it's the ink in the pen.

It's standing for who you are, its being proud to be you;
it's staring into the eyes of death, without a fucking clue.

Know it, show it, own it.
be it, see it, free it.

Don't stop until it's over, don't give up until the end;
don't doubt yourself for a second, you are your only best friend.

Dance, prance, glance;
chance, advance, enhance.

It's all about the humility, about the human condition;

DaydreamingI'm all locked up inside
My own personal cage of sin.
Sanctimony is a righteous bribe.
It brands dark ink upon the skin
Leaving me breathless, and fooled,
Not whole, not again.
I no longer wait for night to unfold
To cosset me in downy pillow dreams.
I close my eyes right here, right now.
The mind will fly where it's always free
To seek the memories of a land of old,
Not stale, not for me.

FarewellEs ist nicht alles wirklich
in diesem Zustand zwischen
Wachen und Schlafen...

" Wie du mir warst..." flüstern Türen
und Wände seit Jahrhunderten
in stillem Einvernehmen
dazu das Atmen des Holzes
ein- aus -ein- aus.

Der blinde Spiegel tut ein Übriges
und schweigt-
er hat schon zuviel gesehen.

Grünes Gezweig rankt am abgeplatzten
Fensterrahmen
und schlängelt entlang
der verblassten Tapeterie.

Einst blühten hier Rosen
sehr laut und sehr rot
und jeder Strauß weinte still
in seiner rostigen Vase.

Nun liegen Fliegenarmeen- beinoben-
an den matten Scheiben.

Ihr letzter Blick
war sicher ins Grün.

the sound of gears and stoneborn in steel and clay
rising to press back the clouds
and scattering them with a wave
of hands and arms made for
other things

the sound of gears and stone
shifting and grinding
shifting and grinding
walking towards the edge
of the world

pocked with the mark of times
when hungry beasties fed
and took me to their bed
if only in their minds
not their hearts

the horizon is never closer
and entropy betrays me
but not yet, I say,
but not yet, I say,
and I move through the night

William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.

One Thing Leads To AnotherOne teachers bitterness
Can lead to this
Student that's struggling in the back row
A snide comment about a test score
And their whole world
Will take a blow

Little did that teacher know
The magnitude that their actions hold
That one comment, look or eye roll
Could tear that kids whole world

That kid leaves class
Without a second glance
At the teacher who was meant to enlighten them
But broke down their confidence
And shattered them

It starts with passing giggles in the hallway
To comments in the next class that their friends made
To their parents questions at the end of the day

To the very next morning that same kid
Is late to class becau

Fate of the Earth Chapter 3-2How he spoke was sinister and cold, the look of him even matched how he spoke, Ireness could sense he was bad news but kept herself calm and listened to what the man had to say.

He walked around them and continued his speech as he gazed at the group “I see only two of what I am looking for but I am sure that you all know where the other two are”.

Kira then asked “who are you looking for?”

The man lent down to her and said in a disrespectful tone “I don’t recall asking you to speak”.

Alan got fearful for Kira, thinking he was going to hurt her but one of the men with the guns put his foot on his he

BSwe can reach the stars
but can't dig a well?
we can teach to harm
but can't fix the world?

PoetryThe first time I wrote a poem
I was in third grade
Down the side of my page I wrote the word
May
M
A
Y
May flowers bloom
Always sunny skies
You can smell the buds on the trees
That was the first poem I ever wrote.
Since then poetry has changed a lot for me
It's been an outlet
For anger, and sadness, sometimes loneliness
My first poem, I wrote at school
With a teacher standing over my shoulder
Telling me which lines should have so many syllables
And which words should rhyme
Now I write in my bedroom
By the light of a single lamp
Late at night when my brain is running in personified circles
Coming up with hyperbolic metaphors
To captivate an abstract audience
That resides only in the labyrinth of my mind
Poetry has become more than a way to write
It's become a way to think
To look at life
Poetry
Speaks through lines of rhymes
Through words with double meanings
Similes that are so cliche I want to cry
Sometimes the words stop coming
And

The Journey to Earth: Chapter 1 Part 1Sapphire The Black Dragon
The Beginning of Her Quest

On the planet Aldaban in the Furn System, ruled mainly by a cat like race known as the Aldabariuns, a peaceful race that was strong in their mind powers, with abilities to use physic abilities, telekinesis and other mind powers.

This race may have been the dominant species of the planet Aldaban but they never accepted that role as they believed in working in harmony with the creatures that lived among them.

And due to them with the ability to understand other species tongues and to communicate with them with their powers they made a strong pact with most of the species there.

There were

DEPRESSING POETRY TIME o3oIn this dark reality from where i cannot dream
there is no kindness
there is no caring
There is only hatred and grief
In this dark reality from where i cannot dream
I hope to dream of peace and friendship
Though i never will see that day
In this dark reality there is no escape
from the dark claws dragging you to your death

PressurePressure.
The weight bears down upon me,
like Atlas holding the sky.

Pressure.
There is so much to do,
but I'm only one guy!

Pressure.
From my parents, teachers,
and friends

Pressure.
From everyone,
I fear it never ends.

Pressure.
Things to do,
the world to scour.

Pressure.
As I race along,
at a hundred miles per hour

Pressure.
The world on my back.

Pressure.
I should hit the sack.

Pressure.
Just need some rest.

Pressure.
I'll do my best.

But really, who can sleep?
With all this.
Pressure.

3 Punishments One:
Soda girl
made flat.
Sunshine girl
rained out.
For sented hair
and dirty tongue
Laughing girl
made cry.

Two:
Quiet girl
made loud.
Music girl
off-key.
For growing up
and going out
Flying girl
falls down.

Three:
Bubble girl
was popped.
Learning girl
held back.
For want of dance
and burning food
Talking girl
shut up.

I am I am not a toy. Don’t mistakenly think you can play childish games with me. You don’t understand, you say sweet nothings, but soon that’s all they will be is nothing. Maybe you mean it now. Maybe you don’t. But sooner or later, probably just enough time for me to figure out how to start letting you in and you will realize you are so far in over your head, you’re drowning and you and you swim to the surface while I am fine staying there because I’m learned to hold my breath.
I am winter. I am cold and you can’t see what I really am because of the thick layer of snow that I hate just as much. Bu

Teenagers We are the rulers of society,
Other than our damned government.
Our fists and chains are made of steel
While our opponent's are made of flint.

When threatened we stand our ground,
When attacked we choose to fight.
Our retaliation and "Gang fights"
Seem to set the world alight.

We start the trends, then end them.
Mold the world as we see fit.
We seem to be hated by those of other ages
And frankly, we won't take your shit.

Some of us rebel,
While others obey the law.
And yet we're all feared,
And witnesses never saw--

--The crimes that some commit.
We are not all the same.
Most of us are nice, But crimes?
Nope. We must b

Those That Remain.For those with passion, in their ways,
Memories lost are sorely missed
And what remains consumes the days:

For those who fill their heads soundly
With ideas, hopeful schemes, daydreams,
That will be their prison, in trying.

For those who seek only true happiness,
But only for those they care the most for,
Their cage will be the futility of balance.

For those who sing their melodies for love,
The lasting song of romantic ages will play.
But they will never be given a part in it.

For those who seek a point of rest,
The days will never end,
And sweet sleep will be the closest to death they will know.

There are many more minds of kindred kin

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Awoken by a DreamI wanna laugh
When I feel like cryin'
Wanna live
When I feel like dyin'

Such love
Such hate
Such fear in me
Life itself
My anxiety
A lonely girl
My savior
My prophecy

And when I go
It's her I'll hold

No life left
No anxiety
No hate
Nor fear
Just love
Eternally

Longing For My LoverChurning pain
Burning strain
Sickness I knew
I'd never know again
Yet here it is
Yes here it is
This ill composure
I can't sustain

I Miss Her...I can't wait
To see my lover,
I miss her
Like no other;
Terably

A Game Called LoveI want to be involved
In too deep
Over my head

This game is frightening
But I'd gladly bare the bruises
Better than sitting here
Along the sidelines
Watching them beat me
When I can't really lose
Because I won't even play

Should I say I Love You, Yet?Should I say
I love you
Yet?
It seems all
Too soon
But this feeling
I can't
Mistake
My heart heard
This sound
Once
Long ago
Thought I had
Forgotten
Gone deaf
To love
I'd never again
Know

Little Girl, Save the Broken BoyLittle girl
Battered and broken
Little girl
Bloody and beating
On the chest of a boy
With a heart
Wide open

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Lies To Myself

by ~nidderdude, May 9, 2009, 12:41:37 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Urban & Spoken Word

As I'm watching the screen
Something wells up within my chest
I see the words
The thoughts in my head

The words
The thoughts
They lie to me
To the world

I wish to destroy them
To rid myself of them

The urge swells through me
To raise my fist
To blot these evils from existence
Some sense of sanity presses on my mind

I'd left for a moment
But once again
I'm back within myself
Just waiting
For the moment I leave
And never return

Lies To Myselfby ~nidderdude

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Urban & Spoken Word

I was reading a poem I had, and thinking a little too deeply, when I felt that lack of sanity. It comes more and more frequently now. When will it consume me?

Funeral of a friend.

~ClipsForPaper May 9, 2009 Traditional Artist

As soon as I started reading I guessed it was the poems.

I can feel that. Sometimes the only thing you can express to others isn't at all what you really feel. Like you're trying to analyze one emotion and not doing it right, or that its really not the one emotion you once thought it was.

~nidderdude May 10, 2009

Haha!
.... Not exactly.
But, I suppose I do feel that way sometimes.

It was mostly, that I'm insane.
Just, thoughts that have come to my head.
This one in particular was while reading a poem of mine.

I'm nuts.

~ClipsForPaper May 10, 2009 Traditional Artist

Everyone is nuts, or, everyone thinks they're nuts. If you didn't have seemingly insane thoughts all the time, then you wouldn't be you. You would be a robot, not an a person. Its these little "insanities" that make us individuals.

~nidderdude May 11, 2009

Hahaha!!!
No... I don't think I'm insane. I think my thoughts are completely normal. I just think if you knew what I was thinking you'd think I was insane.

It's been worse recently. I couldn't sleep because of it.
The urge to hit something. To break something. Even my own bones. The thought of it sounds so.... relieving. I laid around for hours, listening to music. Some songs would bring memories back... and I'd let out a little chuckle, or shudder at some thought I can't remember. Thoughts I don't think I want to remember. And I think things that aren't really there, and think I see things that aren't there.

And I've thought of killing people. Not seriously, because I don't think I could. But I'm curious... as to what it would be like. To take my rusted and chipped machete, to see if I could hack someones arm off with one swing. I could chop about two-inch thick branches in two with one swing.....
And killing myself. Don't think I could do that either, but it's more plausible. I've even got a noose hanging in my backyard. The only thing missing is a body.

And shrooms! I've got those in my basement.
I thought of taking those and killing myself. That could be interesting. But I think I'd like to experience death sober. To see what it's REALLY like....

Honestly. You're the first person I've told this to. These are some thoughts I have when I'm alone. Enjoy my secrets.

If they make me an individual.... so be it.

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