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An Immigrant in the New MilleniumAn Immigrant in the New Millennium
James, my hero
My favorite movie is James and the Giant Peach. This is not because the animation was cute, or because Tim Burton achieved some masterful tale that hasn’t already been told, but because I relate to it in a rather silly way. I always think that the passage which James takes, the immigration from Europe to America, was an acid trip. To be honest most of Tim Burton’s movies seem like they would make more sense on acid. You should remember this comes from a well-educated person on the program D.A.R.E. (Drug Abuse Resistance Education), which I am sure most public schools instilled in the late nineties or early two thousand. Somehow James is my idol because he takes this passage very calmly. Even when faced with terrible situations, large spiders in floating peaches, James has a smile on his face.
I also remember smiling while I was taking my passage to America. On February 17th, 1999 I boarded a plane with my mother and brother,
Flesh rebels against flesh.
Pulsing, throbbing, giving way
To the soul escape.
Red everywherecovering the wound
The new scar. Slightly nauseating
To see your inner self.
More importantly, the pain is sharp.
Sudden as it receds, it begins
Anew. Waves, new waves, of fear.
Waves washing over, like the shore
Being washed over, carved
Away by the ocean.
Every new fear takes away something
From the soul, only later being
Though sometimes the feeling is
Refreshing, it is always
Reminiscent of past mistakes.
What, if anything, does it
Accomplish? The person grows
Smaller in hope,
Larger in despair. Then death, suddenly,
Subtly, invites the cold wind.
Oh, how I miss the blood,
The wound! Oh, how I miss
My soul, breathe it in me once
7th May '09Pass through me like I'm not there
sing for me like I care
All I want to see in truth is
All the burdens that I bear
Get rid of this irony
Let my mind be endlessly
at peace let it be restfully,
asleep dreams can't haunt
me and I will never weep
let me stop right here.
29th April '09Every time the needle touches my skin
A sad memory awakens within
Touching my mothers dead hand
As ink goes in and blood comes out then.
The pain is what I wanted, it hides true
Things unwanted. Give me the clue
I seek about a time past due
Empty thoughts not near, though
My skin is dead, I'm not afraid to taint it's flow
With burning memories, throw
Through closed doors I once locked so tight.
After the sting of lotion seeps in
and blood dries bitterly on my skin,
After pain rejected from within,
Beauty marks wounds I would open again
My back curves, twists, bleeds,
With repent, I fear sinful deeds
I have no regrets for. Needs
Are much more intense under tortured flesh
I breathe new, I feel new, Every Time
My fingers run over engraved signs
O beauty I am in awe, I am at peace
I feel myself reborn, my flesh not my own
Who can truly understand how good it
is to feel a steady hand
Carving art that moves, breathes, feels. Bend
The rules to myself until I end.
EmbraceCrushed in Dreams by this weak Body
Celestial in Nightmares of pain
My thoughts Explode alone in space...
Light; a millenia away from my own true Wish.
Where, o where that Nebula Lies
That Heaven I've been searching for.
Only in the place between Time and Movement,
Do I see some of my Improvement.
As grains of Sand go by, in the Time glass
My Mountain turns into an ant Hill
My Fiord into a prairie, but no matter.
The goal, challenge, I will always
Touched, but never Embraced.
FilthI got rid of a lot of things,
Small stuff, big stuff, things that keep memories.
I trashed old photos I burned old stories.
I even deleted past history.
This one time I broke that vase,
Then I lost a bracelet,
I'm a disgrace.
I threw out laughter; I threw out tears;
I shedded clothes; I burned fears;
I forgot gifts most dear.
But I haven't been able to get away,
In my mind all that stuff stays.
All these things gone,
But the images of them will forever be strong.
I can wash away the filth any day,
But the dirt will still stay.
the cavethere is nothing in this place.
so empty smoothness surrounds me always,
I'd rather try and catch my breath
silently by myself.
some days I wish for this place
others hatred turns my anger to grace.
I crave the freedom no one knows
but then the loneliness overthrows,
all my common sense is gone
but then it's replaced by someone.
my hands always cold
thin blood runs old.
I wonder when this cycle will stop
will they ever change the clock.
please try to understand
I'm at odds with my own brain.
I just want to hide
like a child
in my mind.
mechanici want to kiss every aching wound you have,
bandage your heart every time it bleeds,
and patch up your mind over and over
because not a single tear deserves to fall
from your brandy-drenched eyes
but this dripping heart of mine can only feel
and the healing honey words it flames get caught
in the back of my throat and on the roof of my mouth
so i only have these passionate guttural cries
to tell you that i care all too much
and in order to fix you up again,
i would need to tear myself to tatters
and trade all of my working parts
for your leftover, fading pieces
but i just haven’t figured out how.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More