| A young Alfred Moore and his late sweetheart, keeping each other warm in the cold, wintry weather. |


Glass JarsFor this cause, there is no triumph And no one will be the victor When I'm aware that love is lost For this exchange of affections Has skidded to an abrupt halt Leaving me shell shocked, traumatisedGlass Jars
I don't try to be malevolent About how and what I feel This situation is harder on me Than it is for you, my dear. For I fail to shrug this burden off And so I take everything to heart
Every word, action or lack thereof I take and keep in fragile glass jars And cover them in sequins and cloth Until the time is ripe and I pelt them At you,


TangigramI sit in a pit and boil my blood, Cursing myself for what I've done In this world where men are fools I committed the unforgivable act And choosing their king Or so it may be in my mind...Tangigram
But who am I to judge? Fiery girl, nonsense girl That nasty black magic girl Off to steal your husbands And warp their minds with evil Is that how the world perceives me?
I can't win. I either curse myself, As my other grows tired from pity. Or I curse my other, hurting them, While I ache inside with regret. Where can I go from here? Is there


DepartureJosef checked his watch. The time was 4.30. His designated pod would not arrive for at least half an hour. But then again, Josef always preferred to be early as to prevent rushing at the last minute. Grimacing, he sat down on a plastic chair that was placed against the wall and began to read his weekly political magazine. He could hear the distant humming of the pods; people travelling to faraway destinations, and those commuting within the confines of the enormous underground base. Josef stroked his copper-coloured goatee absent-mindedly as he flicked casually through his magazine. He had read all these articles at least twice before aDeparture
| A vast collection of my poetry, short stories, photography, drawings, and other ramblings. The most common subject of my art is Alter Ego, the book I am currently in the process of writing. |


DepartureJosef checked his watch. The time was 4.30. His designated pod would not arrive for at least half an hour. But then again, Josef always preferred to be early as to prevent rushing at the last minute. Grimacing, he sat down on a plastic chair that was placed against the wall and began to read his weekly political magazine. He could hear the distant humming of the pods; people travelling to faraway destinations, and those commuting within the confines of the enormous underground base. Josef stroked his copper-coloured goatee absent-mindedly as he flicked casually through his magazine. He had read all these articles at least twice before aDeparture


TangigramI sit in a pit and boil my blood, Cursing myself for what I've done In this world where men are fools I committed the unforgivable act And choosing their king Or so it may be in my mind...Tangigram
But who am I to judge? Fiery girl, nonsense girl That nasty black magic girl Off to steal your husbands And warp their minds with evil Is that how the world perceives me?
I can't win. I either curse myself, As my other grows tired from pity. Or I curse my other, hurting them, While I ache inside with regret. Where can I go from here? Is there


Seeds of War.'Get real,' they said, 'He's not like us Not your age No secure job.Seeds of War.
'He's strange, like you One is enough. What would the Neighbours say?'
I fought this battle Until my knuckles were raw And until my eyes Were red with tears
My face contorted My heart mangled And stripped, My mind exhausted.
I fought harder And harder until The child in me Had died.
The woman You loved Had gone away And in her place,
A bitter beast.
Don't please me Or tease me &n


KissesHis kisses evaporate Like lemon skin in my mouth Harsh and bitter As the sensation remains.Kisses


Lyrical.The voice so warm It's lyrical Presence so strange It's quite surrealLyrical.
Makes me tremble Makes me shudder Makes me want to take wing
From my weather-beaten brow To my tiny curled-in toes
You fill me with Such strange sensation Your adult grace Brings about my Childlike imagination.
Avoiding, am I- The thought of just How long we will last Or what may go wrong.
I try to cast away The evidence of my Vain efforts, and bury them In the comfort of your soul.


DisruptionDisruption and indecisive Using a handful of pity cards At my expenseDisruption
This game where you win And I lose I am abused.
Treat me like a child While I refuse To treat you like a stuffy old man.
I don't give in to temptation, Nor should you.


SubliminalI bleed from my mouth, Subliminal enemy propaganda.Subliminal
Invisible to your eyes But ringing in my ears
I show you the world You accuse me of hiding
While you shelter me In a veil of dirty lies.


You.Unwish me? What was that? Un-meet me? Unlove me?You.
Terrorise you? How revolting... Disgust you? Mistake me? Stereotype me For a child.
Treating me like an infant? Eh? Do I ever treat you like an old man?
I have to hide my discomforts While I scream about you at night.
You crucify me, Pain is your delight.
You deny me Freedom of mind.
You cage and smother me With trinkets and vile words.


Lost all meaningSorry, I'm sorry So sorry, really sorry I'm sorry the weather's so bad I'm sorry for the times you hadLost all meaning
Sorry, I'm sorry So sorry, really sorry I'm sorry you've lost 'the Game' I'm sorry my excuses are the same
I'm sorry, so sorry Sorry, really sorry I've said sorry so much It has lost all meaning
To both you and I.
| My poetry and prose. Mostly poetry. |
| I guess I'm not exactly what you want. Honestly, you're not exactly what I want, either. ;Kathy. Lives on the Emerald Isle. Blinks gray, green and blue. Whipped by dark brown and black. Deceived by all. She sings in shadows, Her head in the clouds Inhales dirty mist And loves out loud. In my spare time I write, read, draw and play. What do you do to occupy yourself? The child is surreal Yet so alone I caught her heel And she was gone Do not test me. I have had enough of your nonsense. |
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Ka-Pow
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Please check out my gallery, I seek to develop myself as an artist, poet and photographer. All critiques are welcome!
Eileen a Roon! A hundred thousand welcomes,
Eileen a Roon! Oh! welcome ever more,
With welcomes yet in store,
Till love and life are o'er,
Eileen a Roon!
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To leave is to die a little; It is to die to what one loves.
One leaves behind a little of oneself, at any hour, any place.
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Please check out my gallery, I seek to develop myself as an artist, poet and photographer. All critiques are welcome!
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Please check out my gallery, I seek to develop myself as an artist, poet and photographer. All critiques are welcome!
--
Please check out my gallery, I seek to develop myself as an artist, poet and photographer. All critiques are welcome!
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Be ~inspired~
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Please check out my gallery, I seek to develop myself as an artist, poet and photographer. All critiques are welcome!
Enjoy!
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If we fail to take care of the Earth, it will surely take care of itself by making us no longer welcome.
-The Revenge of Gaia,
James Lovelock
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Please check out my gallery, I seek to develop myself as an artist, poet and photographer. All critiques are welcome!
--
If we fail to take care of the Earth, it will surely take care of itself by making us no longer welcome.
-The Revenge of Gaia,
James Lovelock
--
Please check out my gallery, I seek to develop myself as an artist, poet and photographer. All critiques are welcome!
--
If we fail to take care of the Earth, it will surely take care of itself by making us no longer welcome.
-The Revenge of Gaia,
James Lovelock
Reading, writing, drawing, the lot!!
--
Please check out my gallery, I seek to develop myself as an artist, poet and photographer. All critiques are welcome!
--
If we fail to take care of the Earth, it will surely take care of itself by making us no longer welcome.
-The Revenge of Gaia,
James Lovelock
*shakes fist at the heavens*
--
Please check out my gallery, I seek to develop myself as an artist, poet and photographer. All critiques are welcome!
--
If we fail to take care of the Earth, it will surely take care of itself by making us no longer welcome.
-The Revenge of Gaia,
James Lovelock
--
Please check out my gallery, I seek to develop myself as an artist, poet and photographer. All critiques are welcome!
--
Please check out my gallery, I seek to develop myself as an artist, poet and photographer. All critiques are welcome!
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