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-untitled-Black as the grave wherein my friend is laid, And sharper than the razor’s blade, Yet sweet as songs of lovers played, Missed as places left where joy had stayed, Unreal as paintings where all colors fade, Confused as love where faith has strayed, And partly cloudy as if in shade But valued more than gold or jade, Dear as the hardest price that I have paid, And filled with faces I’ve betrayed, Are all the memories I have made.-untitled-
by ~silverstudx
That Last AutumnThat Last Autumn, not a word, not a rhyme, The last songs went silent in summertime, The year burns away in a farewell fire, With that Last Autumn goes all our desire, That Last Autumn has ripped into tatters, All that worries, distresses, and matters, All that annoys, distracts us, and teases, All that gratifies, pleasures, and pleases. Away into that Last Autumn they go, And we cannot stop their ebb and flow All we feel, all we think, all we dream, Departs and we stand in the slipstream. The hungry sea has swallowed whole, The autumn sun and the depths of our soulThat Last Autumn
by ~silverstudx
Are You There?"Are you there" Walking beside my uneasy treadAre You There?
The soft breath of wind
Ruffling the hair on my head
"Are you" the golden smile
That lies in the darkness beyond
The dulcet tones of a melody
Meandering in a stream
That runs on and on
"Are you" the pillow
My weary head rests to sleep
Do you catch the tears that fall
And hug my soul as it weeps
"Are you" the dreams
I long to live
In the deep of the night
The reassuring feeling
That says
Everything will be all right
"Are you there" Wh
by ~silverstudx
a date of written lettersSplattered, tossed upon an off-white sheet of paper, like the mad strokes of some mental brush, words to strain the sight and smell, to wake, instead, the deadened mind. Bent and strained atop a desk like fake textual rufies overloading senses with a stroke of images in font. It carries itself, slipping from my gripping fingers, pen-strokes jabbing in unwanted, unintended thrusts. Ink-spots appear atop blue lines, fading circles of bloated black spider-shapes, marring the mental pornography— the date-rape of a mind, bent over prose’s close cousin.a date of written letters
by ~silverstudx
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: Rapid City, SD
- Interests: art: writing, singing (and other music), acting, drawing, and stuff like that
- Favourite movie: ? ~ the Harry Potter movies are pretty good
- Favourite band or musician: too many to write...to name a few: TSL, Sparky's Flaw, FATA, My Chemical Romance, etc..Jason Mraz
- Favourite artist: Jason Mraz
- Favourite poet or writer: Emily Dickinson...and Lisa Buccholz :)
- Personal Quote: I'm goin' sing the "DOOM" song!
- Email: silverstudx@hotmail.com
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Sam Bacon ~ love is the happiest feeling on earth and the only thing that can kill you without a thought of doubt.
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Insanity laughs under pressure we're cracking...cause love's such an old fashioned word...
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Insanity laughs under pressure we're cracking...cause love's such an old fashioned word...
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Insanity laughs under pressure we're cracking...cause love's such an old fashioned word...
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Insanity laughs under pressure we're cracking...cause love's such an old fashioned word...
put more stuff on your d.a!! i've never seen such a boring site!!
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Insanity laughs under pressure we're cracking...cause love's such an old fashioned word...
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