Unseen VisionblanknessUnseen Vision by Contradictory55
a single stroke
A picture taken-
A photograph created-
The lines amalgamated-
then diverge and curve.
The start is the image
existing in nature
out of nature
in the minds of people
with something to say
without a voice.
One thousand words and more
caught up in lines more than symbols
there are meanings and then
there is the meaning of meaning
and how do you capture
something that is itself?
holds the definition of abstraction
despite its meaning it is
meaningless only if
the viewer cannot see
A voice is unneeded
only if words can be expressed
in something more indelible than action.
bottomless tearssome days it feels unendingbottomless tears by Contradictory55
drip drop drip drop
and there's no container
more bottomless then the one
within, filling up with salt water
just before it's released
in small doses so as not to drown
the world in its iniquities and
there's more to this than meets the eye
blurred lines still blurred even after the
waterfall down cheeks
what's indistinct remains and so
there's nothing but to wipe the tears away.
inevitabilityTears of relief fallinginevitability by Contradictory55
from eyes holding themselves dry
for far too long
trying to stay strong
trying not to scream at the sky
asking nobody why we're dying.
Fading fast because
emotions can't last as the cause
for our survival
our will is subservient
and our utmost denial
is severely inconvenient
to everything trying to hold us together,
everything trying to promise us forever.
Forever doesn't exist
within the confines of mortality
we pretend at invulnerability
because we are vulnerable.
Death stares us in the face
and we close our eyes.
IndelibleI looked up from my seat on the busIndelible by Contradictory55
through the window across from me
and upon seeing the city, I thought:
"That. That is mankind's footprint,
our stamp upon this large Earth,
our proclamation of our lowly existence."
Then I looked down
at the book in my hand
and I thought:
"This. This is as close as we will get to God,
our ability to create solely from our imagination.
To print our thoughts and creation upon
something once alive, is still living,
in a new form and in new ways.
Love of writing? No, this,
books, authors, novels, literature, this,
this is love of creation.
Every word cannot live on its own,
but in cohesion with others it
creates a story that can.
Confined between these pages,
characters fictional and otherwise,
alive and dead, speak to us.
From first love to first heartbreak,
first kiss to first fight to last kiss,
there can be beauty in the sadness.
Beauty in the tears that fall as we fall
for these people inside these pages
because beauty is more than phy
I will followI'll watch your back, always as you walk awayI will follow by Shikyo-Uchiha
I'll follow your foot prints on the ground
Trace the path you paved
And listen to your every sound
My hand will reach out, ready to grab yours
If I miss, I'll latch onto the back of your shirt
You go ahead to open up the doors
And I'll be the one to follow you first
You may be heading off alone
But there is no place you could go
Where this place here wouldn't be your home
And I swear to you I will take this time to grow
Wanderings (WIP)“It’s funny now that I think about it, how I used to act in my younger days. Just fake diamonds and cheap embroidery, that’s all it really was. Ripped fabric thrown on a mannequin that was stitched together to make a godess. No real substance, no personality- what it all comes down to is a pretty face. It’s always the natural sex appeal that really throws a girl together. Then you won’t have to bother with a mask, and your skin won’t grow around the edges of the plastic..”Wanderings (WIP) by EvelynTaliette
She laughs now, and you wonder what all this means. The rambling way she speaks, as if her life was already lived and now she’s only spilling every memory. The paintings on the walls made purely of collisions between colors. The open window, the still-burning cigarette on the sill. The hearty laugh that sounds like the woman you used to know, instead of this broken version sitting cross-legged on an unmade bed. You try to remember why you came here, but all you r
Why do you cry, child,|
Why are your tears so black?
What do you cry for,
What is it you lack?
Whatever wish you ask,
I'll grant it.
Whatever hope you hold,
I'll fulfill it.
Whatever dream you dream,
I'll make it come true.
For you see, child,
I am you.
A poem to go along with the picture by hgfdsasdfgh The picture is the ID
A high school Filipino Canadian female, and a violent bookworm, I enjoy arguing about the most inconsequential things. Fantasy fiction is my favourite genre, as well as romance and comedy. I have read many mangas, and watched a few animes. That's pretty much it?
That wonderful picture up there is by the magnificent Thank you so much you marvelous friend!
Current Residence: On a planet on an arm of the spiral galaxy the Milky Way
Favourite genre of music: Usually upbeat, or ones whose message I like
Favourite style of art: Expressive, simple, or amazingly detailed and looks effortless
MP3 player of choice: One that I am unable to break.
Personal Quote: Live life to the fullest, because tomorrow may not arrive.