Untitled
Sparking violet and crimson
Branches that spin
Into roots
Children running in fire
Rust bones melting
Into yellow eyes
Cadavers compressing inwards
Into songs
Water mazes
Living beyond
Dinner burning
Into alcoholic drinks
Tracks
"The tracks are alive," says an overweight young man. He eyes around for a seat before the train starts filling up. He pushed his way through just to get an empty seat. As he was looking there was uproar outside of the train. It seems as if someone has mysteriously been pushed into the tracks and now refuses to budge until he is paid a five dollar fine on the criminal who had pushed him down. This of course was of no concern to this overweight young man. He now had ample time to find a seat.
He found one to his liking on the other side of the train in which he entered. People were still mostly outside of the train begging for the m
These are a collection of haiku that I wrote about a walk I had across the Williamsburg Bridge to Union Square.
wind beaten
frosted blood
I've arrived
on the Bridge
the water
is not only blue
under the Bridge
water
is not only blue
a boat
adds in white strokes
water under the Bridge
a can
being pushed along by cars
a fellow wanderer
on a breeze
a leaf.
Where did you come from?
A leaf
brown contrasting the gray
wary traveler
autumn winter
a dead leaf
floats on cold wind
Bowery
yet another
bridge to cross
exhausted
there are currently no people
in Union Square
Wind beaten
Frosted blood
I'm heading back inside!
Parents' Nurturing Hand by BeelzeLFallen, literature
Literature
Parents' Nurturing Hand
Parents Nurturing Hand
Sometimes its best to not say a word during an argument, it only complicates things. A simple voice, an uncaring voice, will soon start to rise from the depths of the soul and travel through the lone plain hall. Soon it would echo in the childs ears, slowly it will numb him, soon the feelings of sadness are ignored and taken as nothing, and finally the child feels no sadness at all.
Insignificance soon rules over the life of the child, like his lord, and he seals himself away in his own little madhouse. Could it have been anymore painful for him? He desperately looks for an escape and sees
Two Brothers
These two were meant for Arkham Asylum.
Brothers, born of the same mother.
Twins at one point,
now devil and demon.
One evil from the very beginning,
the other transformed by torture.
It started in a mere apartment, somewhere in Gotham City, after a hideous murder.
What have you done?
The room was covered in blood,
organs splattered against the walls,
cells dying before the eyes
oh an innocent brother.
The brothers had mature, one to preteen the other to old.
Their mother were dead on the floor.
One did them in with a gun, the other stood there stunned,
both staring at each other, a second was lasting
Misery
Imagine if you couldn't trust your own decisions.
Have you, not to be cliché, ever felt like you were standing at the edge of an abyss? That you are standing on the very tip, a tip you simply couldn't walk away from. The pain the grips your very heart and eats it up, it seems to give birth at that spot, maybe born right under your very feet, a part of your lingering shadow. Much thought has went to this, much emotion, to the point a normal person feels wasted while even standing up at three in the morning, and a person off-balance just feels like dying.
Imagine if your misery was so deep you couldn't control your body.
A phe
Tracks
Heard it letting off some steam, maybe it was just air, whatever it was it buzzed in the ear. Waiting silently on the platform, doors soon opened and closed, seemed to be waiting for the go ahead by the unknown force. Soon it struggled to move, forcing itself through the grove, a grove laid out with tracks, leading it's direction.
It is strange to be alone on a train, you can get away with speaking to yourself, no one can hear a word you say, seems almost peaceful. Except looking out the window, scratched and defamed, it's like looking into a world of chaos. Your peaceful inside a moving car, held together to others, but outsi
Diagnosis
I cried for three hours long, a long three hours. Merely a kid in the fifth grade, merely ten or eleven years of age. Couldn't stop crying my eyes out. What reason? I had none, could be because it was morning, could be for my awakening. Whatever the reason I couldn't stop for three hours, and I wanted to so much, even after a walk around the block with my mother holding my hand, no it wouldn't just stop. Once I went home and laid back in bed, it faded away, and I wondered why even after all this time. I'm twenty now, my memory never serves me correctly, but it was unforgettable.
What is my diagnosis? Pondered that thought for so l
Yes/No, Another No
A few years ago. Couldn't admit the truth, being that I was so cold, so odd and confused; A loner of all the world. My life was anti-social, yet I knew you, I crushed, soon fell in love with you. It was an impossible position to be in, your innocence, your innocent, and I feel full of hate. I am lost, I am odd, this has to be impossible, this situation couldn't be existing, and why did I stay with it.
A year ago. Still obsessed after all, and all about you. Your very sight makes my heart tremble, the beauty blushes me red, your words ring slowly in my dreams, how much I want to be dead. Here in this lone room with four pa
Beyond ( Give me a reason to hate you )
Beyond facts. Could stare into his eyes all day, never breaking my steady vision or even blinking for that matter. Dark brown with odd little marks, they were eyes of a person I would only want to spend forever with. Seems like I could just fall asleep and still watch those eyes because I know his wouldn't blink or either. Maybe he finds me pretty, maybe he has the same feelings.
Beyond words. Not a single word was uttered between us, you could even hear the bird outside the window hooting in a silent way; It must have been a pigeon outside the window. Our body movements told such a tale of our bloomi
Untitled
Sparking violet and crimson
Branches that spin
Into roots
Children running in fire
Rust bones melting
Into yellow eyes
Cadavers compressing inwards
Into songs
Water mazes
Living beyond
Dinner burning
Into alcoholic drinks
Tracks
"The tracks are alive," says an overweight young man. He eyes around for a seat before the train starts filling up. He pushed his way through just to get an empty seat. As he was looking there was uproar outside of the train. It seems as if someone has mysteriously been pushed into the tracks and now refuses to budge until he is paid a five dollar fine on the criminal who had pushed him down. This of course was of no concern to this overweight young man. He now had ample time to find a seat.
He found one to his liking on the other side of the train in which he entered. People were still mostly outside of the train begging for the m
These are a collection of haiku that I wrote about a walk I had across the Williamsburg Bridge to Union Square.
wind beaten
frosted blood
I've arrived
on the Bridge
the water
is not only blue
under the Bridge
water
is not only blue
a boat
adds in white strokes
water under the Bridge
a can
being pushed along by cars
a fellow wanderer
on a breeze
a leaf.
Where did you come from?
A leaf
brown contrasting the gray
wary traveler
autumn winter
a dead leaf
floats on cold wind
Bowery
yet another
bridge to cross
exhausted
there are currently no people
in Union Square
Wind beaten
Frosted blood
I'm heading back inside!
Just to let everyone know before reading this... This is only an outline of the actual poem. Just an outline. Why just an outline? I don't reveal my new works anymore.
Outline For A Poem ( Mad Hatter)
Poem on Paranoia
Intro:
1. Introduce the area (1-3)
2. Introduce the character (1-2)
3. Warp it
Stanza 1: View through his eyes
1. Start with the shadows (3)
2. The beings that are called people (2)
3. Movement disorder (1)
Stanza 2: The beating heart
1. Racing heart beat (2)
2. Speeding blood (2)
3 A simple touch (3)
4. Insanity
Stanza 3: Stuck in the mind
1. Screaming (1)
2. Fainting (2)
3. Shacking (3)
4. Sleeping
Stanza
Outline for Lover's Hell:
A recurring dream of loving someone.
Introduction: Setting
1. Bed 1
2. Night 2
3. Sleep 2
A. Dreaming:
1. The falling 1
2. The scene 3
3. The person 1
4. The moment 3
B. The Nightmare:
1.Waking 4
2.Imagining 2
C. The Next Night
1.The vision 2
2.The touch 3
3.The Kiss 1
4.Nightmare 3
D.Awaking:
1.Obession 2
2.Blurring the line 2
E.Insomnia:
1.Going empty 1
2.Deny the truth 2
3. Blackout 1
F. Lover's Hell
1.The demon 3
Whoever Told You..... by BeelzeLFallen, literature
Literature
Whoever Told You.....
Whoever Told You There Was A Heaven
The moon is fading
Whoever told you there was a heaven...
has got to me wrong
Living in this existance, should be enough to satisfy me
Look at the moon, it says it all
My faded heart, broken blood
It pumps in and out of me
Whoever told you this horrible existance
Could leave to something more
Would be plain wrong, plain wrong
And if there was, it would be a broken sky
Where it escapes the sun
All dark with broken robotic souls
Yeah that's the image I get
A heaven would just be,
just so boring
The sun is hazy, not as bright as it was before
We ruined it
Focused on something past this
Leav
Dear love,
Dear Love,
I'd like to keep note I am only writing this because you are such a mystery to me. You can as easily change a life for the better and you can for the most. I had a number one question in my mind, you might find this a bit odd. Are you god? Yes I am serious about that question. Why am I so serious? Well I can't really think of what else you can really be.
Well I can admit this letter is more then just to question if your god or not. Actually I wanted to personally thank you. Yes I wanted to thank you for the way you have changed my life, for the better and for the worst. First off the worst and this will be a bit long
Too bad they don't have a category for crappy poems you plan to rewrite later on here, I so need that. I don't consider this a best of mine, as you can tell. This is just something to get somethings out of my system. So here brought to you by me Beelze L. Fallen, Can I FORGIVE You?
Can I Forgive You?
A clear heart, what a broken alter of misery have I become
Starting for weeks
Feels like eternity
The smile slowly fades across my face each morning
Dare I say this... I'm sorry
Life didn't turn out the way I looked it
Being wise just isn't enough in a lunatic world
Generic I know, but the idea holds true
Can't go a day without thinking
Definitely changing the title on this one
What's In A Dream?
In a silver moonlight
Down by the park with one lone tree
I stand there waiting for you
Quietly,
As silently as I can wait
Barely breathing
Bare through all just to wait for you
Now through these eyes, a frozen cold state
I wait to watch for that sighting
An angel that flew down from heaven
Skin as white and warm as the snow
Eyes bright and full of hope
The one who only wears her soul
Then the night came in the burning sky
As it seemed to explode and just fade
And you seem to appear with the wind
A simple breeze with glowing star shards
My eyes wander to your dire
The Reality Love Story by BeelzeLFallen, literature
Literature
The Reality Love Story
The Reality Love Story
The day was brilliant, deep sea blue eyes and a yellow sunshine. The grass of the park was the most green it had ever been, the park was more alive then the busy city itself today. In the early morning sun there seemed to be two people bathing in the light, like an early morning bath warm to the touch. They two were in an embrace, the man holding his women. It was the sight of true young love, as only captured once paint on a canvas.
The two sat there, looking up toward the sky at the perfect future they imagined themselves to have. The man was wearing a black suit, seemed out of place with the set
The clock strikes one:
On the mantelpiece
A line of cards facing a room
Full of discarded wrapping
Warmth
A family of chatter overwhelms the chime;
In the church tower
Fresh holly hangs on the church door
The last worshippers exit
Faith
Bar one, praying silently through each booming strike;
Down the alleyway
Nameless rags heaped in the corners
Peals seep through the s
I sit here, in this electric chair
My head soaked with the thoughts
Of bereavement and dejection
My hands strapped to the arms
With firm rubber bonds
A single dim light, casting
A eerie glow upon my crying
Figure, as watchful and revengeful
Eyes study my figure closely
I lift my head for the final time
As the masked executioner takes
His place by the switch that decides
My fate for the concluding stage
I look at each figure with a cheerless,
Tearful face, my eyes shot red
With remorse for everything that
I have done that can never be forgiven
The eradicator conclusively states what
I have done, grabs the lever fir
Mindless Self Torture by maniackillerman, literature
Literature
Mindless Self Torture
My mind has taken hold, my bodies just a pest..
No food will quinch my hunger, and no sleep will help me rest..
Ill tear apart your walls, and see into your soul..
Ill heal your painfull wounds, and patch up all the holes..
The world is full of magic if you open up your eyes..
sadly most are blinded by all their needfull lies..
now open up your heart and let the world fade...
and reevaluate all that which you made...
cant you hear her, crying in the night..
cant you see her, dieng from the light..
cant you feel her, fading from your sight..
death is so simple, a passing of the tide
another chance in life soon all will take the ri
I think that I will take some time after I post up a deviation to explain the process, feelings,self-critique, or whatever I have to say about that new deviation. I picked up this trick in my creative writing college course.
I have looked over a few things here since I have been back to this account. I have practically abandoned many of the writings that were posted up here. I didn't like them but I tend not to like any of my writing. Worst part about it is I tend to easily discard something that might have potential if I do not like the structure or even the outcome. So it was definitely a struggle for me to look through some of these works
I finally have some time on the computer and the inspiration to post something up. It is a small collection of haiku I wrote about an walk across the Williamsburg Bridge, which is not too far from my apartment. It was an interesting walk. I was struck by the contrast between true nature (the East River, the sky) and the Urban environment.
I plan to take another one of these trips soon enough, just traveling around on foot through the city to different places I have never been to. Though I have lived in the city all my life, I have never really experienced probably 99% of it. I want to experience that 99% each step at a time. I believe it wil
In the last journal entry I described why I was away and what I kind of plan to do here. Well this entry will be more of that.
I have recently became very interested in haiku and have written plenty. I feel they still need major revisions but I will likely post some up in "collections". What I mean is that I will post a few up in one post and all the haiku will have a similar theme. For example the next deviant I post up dealing with haiku will probably deal with haiku I have written while traveling across the Williamsburg Bridge (in Brooklyn NYC). I will probably release and then revise depending on the comments and the strength in with hai