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Showing posts from 2014

Emergency. A series by Cereus

What you are about to see is a series of close up portraits of girls, drawn with the idea of having them emerge or disappear into the page. Some were digitally reworked. The logo sports a butterfly resting on barbed wire which is spun to make an infinity symbol. I know, its all fucked up. Posted under my Artist alias, Cereus. enjoy and follow the link below for more of my work on Behance.   " Where do we go from here ?"   " Somewhat Innocent " " Immortal "    " Homage "   " Kitara"   Shani fan art Thank You follow more of my work on Behance at: www.behance.net/Cereus

Written For Spoken #3: Defeated Victor by Glen

" 'Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory. Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat.' -        ~Sun Tzu I once knew a woman of admirable values. Her beauty so deep, it resonates from the inside out.   She was beautiful down to her soul, th e kind of beauty lasts forever , or so I thought. You could spot her in a crowd of thousands, for her beauty is unique. But over time she has been swallowed by the crowd and I can barely recognize her. When I see her face now, I see a stranger clad in anger, disguised in sorrow and bitterness and I can’t make out who she is. She looks at me with anger and regret, her gaze burning straight through me as if she intentionally wants to pierce my soul with her stare of a thousand daggers. I can’t even look in her eyes as the tinted windows of her soul bear no resemblance to the warmth I once knew as my sanctuary. I remember when things were simple and loving each other was like air, eas

Written for Spoken #2: See You In Heaven by Raandjua

"Like a rose in full bloom, life's thorns and flowers prickle and pierce the veins to my heart My tear glands have dried up like a once delicate flower in the Namib Dessert on a cold cold winter night   Mya's white pearls intertwined between my fingers remind me of our time together and how we used to make each other smile   Summer rain-red robots-screeching tires...the ear-piercing sound of ambulance sirens in the dark of the night, came as if, from the mouth of the angel of death   Summer rain-red robots-screeching tires…and just like that, the love of my life was gone   Fallen autumn pebbles on the sidewalk awaken visions of blood-drenched leaves   Memories of song and dance are ever-present realities, in a reality, devoid of life   Those mourning lost loved ones and lost love are the subjects of my envy Tears run down their cheeks and I reach over to wipe them away, as I pray, that their tears, never run away   For once they do, then they too will one day be st

WTF #6477968: I Can Only Hope

Sitting here. I am trying my utmost to get my brain to refrain from letting your image infatuate it so. I am monitoring my breathing patterns in hopes that my heart slows down so that it might forget to beat for you. I am trying to do impossible things to take my life back. I am failing successfully. I will hope that you miss me too though. I hope you miss me with all your senses. When you go about your day, and happen to come across a photograph, or you read my name somewhere. I can only hope that your eyes lock. I pray that your mind presses play and displays our movie of memories in such high definition; it robs you of your breath. I wish the molecules in your tears would race each other, causing a stampede in your ducts, ready to erupt and soak whatever it is you were looking at. I can only hope that when you hear a song we both like, your ears fuzz. Shiver even. I so wish your body aches for mine so bad that you would squeeze your pillows so hard, you wer

Written for Spoken #1: Things

I was going to audition this piece for this April Spoken Word, but since I'm out of town chasing paper, I thought I'd treat y'all regardless. It's called "Things". Enjoy. Things I’d have to give up I’d really just have to sit here. Honestly, I’d just have to stare out the window, or even at anything in this room. Anything besides my skin. Actually, you have touched basically all of me so even my body leaves my mind wandering endlessly, tirelessly toward the thought of you. With nothing but slideshows of memories, we have made together. Memories I’d have to give up for there to be any sort of clean slate on my train of thoughts. My family would have to go. Which, would be terrible, but if they stick around I’d have to survive many counts of their favorite question. ”How are things with you and what’s-her-name?”  Off course they know your name, so even now I’m sparing your feelings. All my bad habits. They were not