THE WATCHFUL EYE

THE WATCHFUL EYE 

The beauty.
The colors.
The design.
The fine details.
The watchful eye.
No picture can be painted
or statue created to capture
this perfection,
this awe-inspiring wonder.
Here’s to the creator.

Sunday, December 13, 2015

DARKNESS DESCENDS

p-e-r-p-e-t-u-a-l
by Marcel Huijser

DARKNESS DESCENDS

With a defiant roar,

Darkness descends this night.

Slithering through the grass,

It prepares for the fight.

A fight to the death for some;

Others a fight for what’s right.

The town waits with bated breath,

Sides position for the fight.

The evil one leads the way,

A greater force held at bay.

Wolf walks into the clearing,

Soon others will join the fray.

He has come for me this night,

A shadowy form flits by.

It takes on his dreaded form,

Scooping me up to the sky.

We fly high above it all,

Rooftops passing in a rush.

I soon find myself falling

And landing on a thick bush.

I wake up in my own bed,

Happy I’m alive and free.

I fear for the dreaded night

When Wolf does come for me.

THE DEAD GAME

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BURIED ALIVE

A DEEP GRAVE

lifeisthefight:

You can bury me.
Place in me in a deep grave.
Throw dirt on me
And walk away.
But I will survive.
I will dig my way free.
I will be back.
The human spirit cannot
be extinguished.
It will continue to shine
despite evil’s attempts
to destroy it.
It will shine forever more.

WEB OF LIES

Have you ever been caught
in a web of your own deceit?
A web of lies that kept growing.
One lie leading to the next.
So much easier to be truthful.
No lies to remember.
Easier on your brain and on others.
Stick to the truth.
Or be stuck in your own web.

Friday, December 11, 2015

A SECRET DOOR

olympialetan
One of the secret doors of the Stift Admont library, Austria.

A SECRET DOOR

A door to mystery.

A door to adventure.

A door to my mind.

I would climb the stairs

With a precious book in hand.

Sit in the rays of the sun

And read to my heart’s content.

Hidden away in my secret place

Ready to take on any foe or force.

The sunlit pages would come to life

To bring hours of joy and contentment.

BUT A DOT

se
Mile 148 | vividessentials

BUT A DOT

We are but a dot.

A spot on earth’s surface.

Our importance over-exagerrated.

Our size magnified over time.

Take a step back.

Measure our scope and reach.

Compared to the universe.

Compared to the planets and stars.

Compared to the sun.

Understand your importance.

Understand your insignificance,

In the scheme of life.

THE RAVEN'S LAST CHANCE

nitratediva:

Bela Lugosi recites some Poe in The Raven (1935).

The raven sits quietly while Lugosi reads the lines.
It sits as still as a lifeless statue.
But what if it isn’t lifeless?
What if it’s just waiting?
Waiting for the actor
to stop droning on.
For the room to become quiet
so that he could pounce.
The way he was supposed to
in The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe.
He must perform for his namesake.
The world could use one less actor.
Couldn’t it?
Swoosh…