SenescenceBefore the rain,
all the leaves are brown.

Here's to green memories -
but the tree that loves its leaves
will never know the art of aging.

You found love in our yellow room,
but winter's holding my hand;
it won't be long.

When somebody says your name for the last time,
they gently take your life.

To the lonely sea and the skyin the dim of twilight
I feel immortal
but I feel blue;
stardust and sun drenched
torsos

watercolor pain

like the desert misses the rain

I remember you:
a sky of smog
coasting on thin ice,
limbs tangled
around the
sextile sun and uranus

bones

dust

insomnia on the silvermoon

but I am the wayward child
and there's a hole in my soul,
so please show me

show me what the stars look like tonight.

I should write this down.holy shit I should write this down -

the bad advice kills me;
like self publish WAY before they're ready.
how can we make it better?

you don't write to get a DD;
you write something awesome and then get a DD because you're there.

you don't pay to be published.

publishing isn't the end all be all.

we're ready for you.

Clarity"Come. You be a gear right here,"
she dares and she is tempting. I admit,
enclosed worlds don't appeal to me.
I am embers on the highway.
I'll forge myself into something greater.
The harvest suits me not, so forth I'll go;
judge me not.

Show me how the sun rises.
Even in the dead of winter,
I am scorched like the Earth from the inside-out.
The heat of this nameless, godless desert is trapped within my wounds.

Follow the shuffling feet,
the bloodied shapes
like patchwork hope sewn together from someone else's sacrifice.
Unmistakable, undeniable, guilty;
but the answer will have escaped you.
With the perfect clarity of ragged eyes
all become

UsedA pillow soaked with tears.
My tears.

I cry all the time out of lonlieness now.

When will you love me again?
Or will you just use me?
Really now, be honest.
Truthful.
Hate me? Why? i've been nothing but nice!

And I've always cared.
Now you're leaving.
You don't care anymore.
Try is all I did.
However, you just used me.
I only wanted a best friend.
Now you don't want me.
Good grief!

Tell me what I did wrong!
Oppressed you? Never!

Your ideas were always great!
Ooutstanding, evem! You're gone now. You don't care.
Used me. That's all I ever was to you.

WishesSo many people wish upon stars.
How many secrets do they hold?
Oh, it must be over a million,
Over a billion.
Trillions at least.
I can't even imagine how many there must be.
Not one person hasn't tried it.
Great, dark skies with tiny, twinkling lights.

Stars are trusted by people.
They never tell your secrets.
And they always listen.
Rise of the sun, the disappear.
Set of the sun, they are back to hear.

whatever befalls the last star in the skyBeautiful Doom,
oh, she falls
93 million miles from the sun, part ii

in an inhuman race [8/365]
the world is going down
and she cradles the sky in her arms
and wonders the whereabouts of God

LonelyBy myself again.
I don't go anywhere.
To do anything. So I sit there,
Twining my fingers together in boredom.
Except - I don't have to be.
Really. I could call a friend.

The answering machine picks up.
Eventually I leave a message to call me back.
And I cry, because I hate being alone.
Rewinding my VHS tape, I play my favourite movie.
Sad one, though. It's Fried Green Tomatoes.

I hate being alone.

Cause it hurts. It's scary.
Radical thought run through my head when I'm alone.
You guys, please don't leave me, I request as tears run down my face...

AvoidingWhen you're not here, I feel empty.
How much? A lot.
You're avoiding me.

And I'm sad.
Remember me? Or have I become invisible again?
Exceptional. That's what you used to call me.

You used to want to hang out all the time.
Outstanding, the way things change so suddenly.
Underneath my covers, I feel scared I'll lose you.

And yet, i don't call you. Because I'm scared of you, too.
Very much so. I don't want to be yeled at.
Only -
I miss you so much.
Do you miss me?
I waant to talk to you! But you're -
Not talking to me anymore.
Good grief, do you not want me anymore?

Maybe you don't. You could have told me, instead of breaking my heart.
Eve

What is Hallowed and CommonI don't know if I believe in love
But I sure as hell hope it doesn't find me.
I've got too much going on to worry about that.
Hell, I don't even want it.

I think.

I see all these other people moaning and groaning about it
Because they haven't found anyone yet.
They use that word for it? "Found"?
What, is it something you just stumble across without meaning to?

If that's it, love sounds pretty damn inconvenient.
I mean, you're not prepared for it.
You don't know exactly what to do with it,
the first time.

And things like that mess up everything.

Those star-eyed idiots say it isn't so.
That it's supposed to be unexpected.
Well, so is a mug

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More from ~unmisprinted

Haiku 1Ice flows through cracks;
Flood gates open, death of green.
I can't feel my face.

ReanimationThere are spines like arrows on my DNA;
Biological alchemy transmuting my being.
Fibers torn and sewn by a makeshift tailor,
A seamstress of darkest night repairing to her perfect image.

Pre-owned electrical impulses course along my veins,
Sharpened by shrapnel of the way things used to be.
Barbed wire encases me in a comatose state
Waiting for the transformation to finish its cycle.

This new world blinds me with incandescent suns,
Irradiating me to the point of combustion.
Necessitating reformation on molecular planes.

I want to go home.

PhasedI.

Secret meetings in blinding day.

He disappears and reappears;
Apparition of flesh and blood,
Concrete as the tension given by this reunion

II.

Traversing green lawns to glaring façade.

He conducts us through caverns called a home.
Hammers strike wire continuously,
Calling forth a dissonance as otherworldly as his joy.

III.

Mounting stairs to flashes of blinding color.

He throws his wealth across the room,
Giving glimpses of grandeur and beauty;
Glimpses causing a wonder like his.

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The Censor's Penby ~unmisprinted

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I got this idea a little while back and I plan to do a little more with it too. I got the idea partially from a bit of graffiti in my study hall which showed a person gagged and screaming. Next to it was a statement like the worst part of being censored is ________________________________ (it was sharpied out) It really was interesting to me so i decided to write about it.

My first attempt at visual poetry.

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Submitted on: May 1, 2010
Image Size: 902 KB
Resolution: 3401×2200

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~sneak3218 May 1, 2010

ah man this is very cool im not sure what i like better the work or the Artist's Comments. im fascinated by the idea of a simple art process (in your case bit of paper and a few line) combined with a high concept and that's just what you have done here and created something has a frustrating brilliance about it.

~unmisprinted May 1, 2010

Thank you so much. Your comments are what keep me working man. This is probably the most in depth comment i've ever recived and i cannot thank you enough for you too-kind words. THis means the world to me man. Thanks so much.

~sneak3218 May 1, 2010

i think its great how it frustrates me when i try and fill in the blanks. man you got skills i just don't always know how to express a worth while meaning but this one seems to communicate well to me and my art practice well done man.

~unmisprinted May 1, 2010

Thanks so much man. it really means so much to me.

~sneak3218 May 2, 2010

~unmisprinted May 1, 2010

Thanks guys!

~katarz5995 May 1, 2010

woah thats uber creative! i love your signature too.

!weesnawwwxo May 1, 2010

I like it! Very interesting

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The Censor's Penby ~unmisprinted

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