Night of our moon

This world is a game of do or die
We refuse to see the tears as the children, they cry
We don't even stop to ask ourselves why
It's not that we're mean, we simply know not how to be so kind

And the moon rises over the rye
Eerily kissing the twilight goodbye
the moon rising over the rye

Blue skies are for the eagles wings
and sometimes, when the moon is up,the wind only seems to sing
of how, come dawn, the skies are free
it's beauty is shared by you and me

And the moon's disappearing into a blue sky
granting the eagles the freedom to fly
the moon disappearing into our blue sky

We have all had our share of sorrow and pain
Without this, may I ask you, would you really be sane
and though it is sad to see our loved ones leave
you'd be blind not to see how through
darkness the moon's light does weave

And as we look to the moon we're in tears
as we remember good times and past years
looking to the moonlight in tears

We have made it through the day, the moon is now in sight
Come now children, you've all been wronged
and you know this in the night
You ponder of how in the day the wrong could seem so right
You ignorance betrayed you, and did you really think
there could be a shadow not cast by light

And the moon comes to us in the night
through darkness comes hope with its pale silver light
the moon is with you in the night

Now it may just be me, but man,it seems, is overrated
But to you I'm a child, and so the poet has overstated
As you turn away from the truth, you cast your own shadow of doubt
And as you are engulfed in its darkness, your denial it echoed in shout

And as we watch the shadows dance on an eerie moonlit night
No longer ignorant, but innocent, no longer wrong nor right
Our lives had seemed so hollow, here their only an illusion
The wind is calling out my name. End of poem, my last conclusion

idea 2

But since March, I’ve seen a growing trend of people abandon these ideologies altogether. I’ve seen writers who used to write self-improvement articles pivot hard into outrage clickbait and nihilism.

“I’m in a group chat with the girls on ‘All’s Fair,’” Niecy Nash-Betts said. “I will know these women until God throws dirt in my face.” https://t.co/5po11dkxi6

Eglise Saint Gervais - Maurice Boitel

#ArtBaselStories : Artworks and taxation: the implications of a potential legal change in France 📊

Gallerists Michele Casamonti, Nathalie Obadia, and Franck Prazan, along with tax consultant Léopold Vassy, discuss the implications of a change to the legislative framework https://t.co/hER3JkhUuu

My Everything (personal)

My tears of pain could not have justified my love for you.
What else am I supose to do?
All I can do is sit here and cry.
Write down my thoughts,
expressing all my feelings.
I wish I didn't have to though.....
I wish I could just shut it all out.
Block out everything,
turn my heart cold,
black.
Nothing in there.
Completly empty;
like a bottomless pit.
Everything empty;
but now.....
I have to deal with this.
How?
I don't know.
It ponders through my mind all the time.
Should I?
Shouldn't I?
Knowing me,
my decision will be bad.
That's always the outcome.....
no matter what.
I can feel my heart beating faster everytime I think about it.
Faster,
faster,
and faster!
I just want it all to stop.
GET OUT OF MY HEAD!
GO AWAY!
I don't want you here anymore!
You took over my mind.
I can't block you out.
Why?
That's my question.....
Why do you have this great power over me?
Why does it exsist?
Can't it just disapear?
No.....
that will never happen.
It's impossibile.
I can't explain it;
it's just too confusing to.
Can't you see what you are doing to me?
It hurts too much babe.....
You have caused me all this pain and torture.
It's all too much to bear.
I'm losing control over my life.
You control me now;
not me.
You are my keeper,
my owner,
my lover:
"I wish."
How long is this going to go on?
Weeks?
Months?
Years?
No,
I know the answer.....
forever.
I will always be yours.
You will always have the power over me;
for always and forever.
Even in death,
I will belong to you.
You are my everything.
Nobody can take that away from me.
I wish you would open your sparkling eyes and realize.....
realize my love;
love for you.
You always push it away.
Whenever I try to be there for you,
you block me out.
Making your heart cold,
black.
Completly empty.
You know I will always be there for you.
All I want to do is see you happy.
When you smile,
it makes me smile as well.
Just one look at you,
and my heart fills with joy.
I feel the butterflies in my stomach;
head pounding,
heart aching,
all for you.
I know time helps ease the pain,
but not for me.
I gave way too much fucking time.
All that time.....
and for what?
YOU!
It wasn't even worth it,
you didn't seem to care.
Now I can never have that time back.
So I sit here alone.
In the dark.
With the thoughts of you running through my mind.
It hurts too much.
This pain is not what I want.
I wish the pain could be over,
but it's not.
I don't think it ever will be.
So what do I do from here?
Honestly,
I don't really know.
I wish you would come up to me and say,
"I love you."
"I love you too hunni."
I wish to be free.
Free from your world,
and everything in it.
I don't think I could do that though.
So the days grow longer,
nights grow shorter;
while this pain runs through my body.
Why can't I move on?
Why can't I just say,
"Fuck you!"
because you mean so much to me.
I care too much for you.
I wish it all could be over.
I can't go on like this anymore.
So for now,
I'll see what the future holds.
David,
You know you will always be in my heart;
no matter what happens.
You were my first love.
Noone can take that away.
You are my everything.

*Dedicated to DBH

Why to write

Writing is a joy to practice without any end goal

Confusing Confusion

So many choices, don't know where to go
North; South; East; West, being pulled in all directions
Work or study can not decide
love and hate, to live or die
cross or stay, come or go
confusing the paths , but down which road?
Left or right, up and down
sing a song or smile or frown
speak of feelings, keep them inside
embrace death or coward and hide
show my face or wear the mask
eat the food or the trash
so many choices without a clue
of the decisions I'm to do.
stay with you, come or go
wait beside, behind or below
questions problems which to solve
the fun, cruel, maybe non at all
so many choices, going insane
or already was, ahh! the pain
so many choices, what to do
i do not know, I HAVE NOT A CLUE!!!!!!

Parting Ways (The Day The Music Died)

The last note still ringing in his ears, the night’s events still swirling around in his head, he walks out of the door into the warm evening air.  The entire atmosphere is one of joyous sadness.  Emotions course through the air, giving it some sort of charge.  The next morning shall be the last exchange of the drink of the fruit of passion, and yet the solemn first for him.  Later tomorrow he knows, they all know, that they must part ways.  They must all leave their oasis of comfort and security to dive again into the vast sea of reality, of conformity.  Yet still they cherish it, hold on to it.  Even in the last moments of such a magical night, they open their minds, their hearts, open their souls to each other and learn to love that which is there in what others have exposed.  The chants of “…MORE, MORE, MORE, MORE” truly resound in not only everyone’s thoughts but in their utmost desires.  

Late that night, lying in that same old bed for the last time, gazing up at the concrete ceiling.  Finally, his thoughts allowed to sit and slowly filter out.  Shock, insubordinate yet knowingly unjust anger.  A few muttered words from the other side of the room, a brief agreement of opinions. Then silence.  The hazy recollection of events over the past three weeks, the bittersweet insanity which so marked each and every day.  The mistakes made, the friendships formed, the battles lost and won.  And as all of this starts to settle down into a gentle murmur, he drifts off into sleep.

The next morning, torn from the warm embrace of his frail sheets, down to the circle, sips from the glass, toasts to a fallen comrade.  Soon enough the group all progressed to go through their daily routines one final time.  They returned to what they knew was the inevitable.

They were there, it was time to be rounded up and brought back to their respective lives.  Tears were shed, last goodbyes, every single one of them joined as one united being, as one entity separate from their single selves.  Each and every one of them will never leave the spot they were when they knew it was time they had to leave.  Those who knew they could never return let fall the rains of their misery.  Their true love for something so intangible yet so true and so real ripped apart their true selves and lovingly joined their true selves back together in an instant.

But, as inevitabilities go, by midday it was empty and silent.  Once could almost feel on the air all that had occurred there so few hours ago.  That evening, He finally lay in bed before sleep.  All were dispersed from that place they cherished so dear, back in the true world but thinking of naught but what they had left behind.

And all at once, without warning, from places near and far came the sound of 300 voices:  “This will be the day that I die…”

New York Fantasy - John Marin

🎨✨ What role does art play in shaping our identity? Is it a reflection of who we are, or does it shape our perceptions of ourselves? Share your thoughts and favorite examples! #ArtDiscussion #IdentityInArt

🎨 Embracing the beauty of imperfection! Art is a journey where every stroke tells a story, and every flaw adds character. Let's celebrate the unique expressions that make our creativity shine. #Art #Creativity #Inspiration

Night of our moon

This world is a game of do or die
We refuse to see the tears as the children, they cry
We don't even stop to ask ourselves why
It's not that we're mean, we simply know not how to be so kind

And the moon rises over the rye
Eerily kissing the twilight goodbye
the moon rising over the rye

Blue skies are for the eagles wings
and sometimes, when the moon is up,the wind only seems to sing
of how, come dawn, the skies are free
it's beauty is shared by you and me

And the moon's disappearing into a blue sky
granting the eagles the freedom to fly
the moon disappearing into our blue sky

We have all had our share of sorrow and pain
Without this, may I ask you, would you really be sane
and though it is sad to see our loved ones leave
you'd be blind not to see how through
darkness the moon's light does weave

And as we look to the moon we're in tears
as we remember good times and past years
looking to the moonlight in tears

We have made it through the day, the moon is now in sight
Come now children, you've all been wronged
and you know this in the night
You ponder of how in the day the wrong could seem so right
You ignorance betrayed you, and did you really think
there could be a shadow not cast by light

And the moon comes to us in the night
through darkness comes hope with its pale silver light
the moon is with you in the night

Now it may just be me, but man,it seems, is overrated
But to you I'm a child, and so the poet has overstated
As you turn away from the truth, you cast your own shadow of doubt
And as you are engulfed in its darkness, your denial it echoed in shout

And as we watch the shadows dance on an eerie moonlit night
No longer ignorant, but innocent, no longer wrong nor right
Our lives had seemed so hollow, here their only an illusion
The wind is calling out my name. End of poem, my last conclusion

🎨✨ What role does art play in shaping our identity? Is it a reflection of who we are or a tool to reinvent ourselves? Share your thoughts and let's dive into the conversation! #ArtDiscussion #IdentityThroughArt 🖌️💬

🎨✨ Embracing the power of color! Each hue tells a story, evoking emotions and memories. Dive into the world of art where every brushstroke transforms a blank canvas into a realm of imagination. Let your creativity flow and paint your own reality! #ArtInspiration #ColorTheory 🎨🖌️

Our flawed memory

Sometimes older people mistakenly remember kids in the past as more accomplished.

And todays youth will likely consider the generation after them to be deficient.

Sleeping Rustam - Sultan Muhammad

Art has the power to transcend boundaries and ignite the imagination. Every brushstroke, every note, and every sculpted form tells a story waiting to be uncovered. Here’s to the creativity that connects us all! 🎨✨ #ArtMagic #CreativityUnleashed

Conformity And Religion

If religion were true, its followers would not try to bludgeon their young into an artificial conformity; but would merely insist on their unbending quest for truth, irrespective of artificial backgrounds or practical consequences.

- H. P. Lovecraft

painting artwork

digital artwork

🎨✨ Let's spark a conversation! What's the most powerful piece of art you've ever experienced, and how did it make you feel? Share your thoughts and let's explore the emotions that art can evoke! #ArtDiscussion #EmotionalImpact #ArtCommunity