Liberation Through Creative Expression

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Comment by pissy prissy on August 9, 2009 at 5:37pm

Comment by 51m0n3 on July 28, 2009 at 4:28am

Stupid cheesey story I wrote for an English class once..
Kinda long, but.. Enjoy?

“Nora!” Matt yelled at me from across the alley. “Look what I found in the dumpster!” I saw his legs rustling, moving to and fro out of the top of the bin. Being homeless wasn't the best in London, but it was good enough for us. He came running towards me with something clutched in his dirty hands. “Close your eyes.” he said. I did as I was told and felt something cold slip on to my neck. “It's not perfect, I know, and it's a little dirty but I thought you'd like it.” I looked down to see a simple gold chain with a fake crystal heart on the end. “It is perfect,” I said “thank you.” Other than that, there was nothing good in the dumpster. Tonight, I would have to walk the streets. Matt said it was too dangerous for someone who was pregnant, and offered to take over until I was due. I refused. We always took turns, Thursday was one of my days.
Before I went to work it would have to be dark, so we decided to eat and see some friends. We put on our jackets aand went in to the store, grabbing things and putting them in our pockets.When we were done we had some sandwiches, crisps, fizzy pop and whiskey. We did well today, no one got caught.
As we sat down in the subway Matt kissed my forehead and rubbed my belly. I thought about what we should name the baby. I was due in less than a month and we still had no idea. Because we had stollen ennough food we could use all the money we made on heroin. This was good, because we were both really feinding.
Right as we were done eating our friends showed up. It was nice to see them again, a lot of the time we were too busy trying to get by to spend time with them. We talked about music, people and obviously, the baby. A lot of people think punk kids don't have much heart, but our friends prove them wrong. It's funny to think about a six foot tall guy with tattoos, piercings and a foot tall green mohawk being excited about your due date or name choice. I wouldn't change them for the world. After a chat we went our seperate ways. It was almost time to work, so I went to go put makeup on. Matt made a sign so he could make a little bit of money, too. After I was all done he kissed me goodbye.
I walked to my usual spot, there were a few other girls there. I was only going to do one deal tonight, I wasn't feeling too great. It wasn't too long before I got picked up. The guy pulled up in a nice car, which meant I was probably getting good pay. I got in, we did our thing, he roughed me up a bit. It wasn't unusual for that to happen. At least it was only one black eye this time.
Buying heroin had become a semi-regular occurance. If we had a little money, that's what it would go to. I walked down the dirty road, wind blew rubbish around and a light rain hit my skin. I met up with Matt again, between the both of us we had aenough for a couple hits each. Black tar was fine, we weren't classy. We walked to our dealer, bought two hits for now and went to the bathroom to do it.
The bathroom was dirty, there were flyers on the walls and paper towel on the floor. At least it was out of the rain, I hate the rain. We sat down, mixed it, and shot up.

In a couple of seconds, everything was gone.I didn't care about the black eye, I wasn't worried about baby names, I didn't feel hhungry. I didn't have to feel anything.

Comment by pissy prissy on July 27, 2009 at 3:07pm

Comment by spook on April 8, 2009 at 5:52am

CAPTIVE

Terror comes-a-creeping through a chink in armour bright,
It taints the day with fear and screams with demon might
At a woman waiting fearful, afraid to face her plight
And she turns her face from freedom and thwarts the saviour knight.

And can you hear the drumming of the madman on the steed?
As he wields his scythe of torment and sows the guilty seed
Ignoring all the pleading and forgetting there’s a need
To treat a woman like an equal, not tie her to a lead.

Comment by spook on March 14, 2009 at 10:53pm

the start of my latest drawings

Comment by spook on February 20, 2009 at 2:59am

OF ANGELS

LAST NIGHT I DREAMED IN SOLITUDE
AND IN MY DREAMS COMPLETE,
A VISION CAME TO CHANGE MY MOOD
AND I CARESSED AN ANGELS FEET.


I LIGHTLY KISSED THEM IN MY MIND
AND STILL I COULD NOT REST,
FOR HARDLY WAS THIS THOUGHT BEHIND
WHEN I KISSED AN ANGELS BREAST.


I WAS LOST IN DREAMS SO WONDROUS
BUT NOTHING COULD ECLIPSE,
WHAT NEXT I DREAMED, SO MARVELLOUS
FOR I KISSED AN ANGELS LIPS.

Comment by spook on February 20, 2009 at 2:58am

THE BEAST.

THE PICADORS AND TOREADORS, SADISTIC MEN OF FAME,
ENSURE THE BEAST IS INJURED AS THEY CRUELLY STAB AND MAIM.
AND THE MATADOR SUPREMO DELUDES THE ZEALOUS FANS,
AS WORLDS OF PAIN ENRAGE THE BULL, BUT NO-ONE GIVES A DAMN.


AND SO BEGINS THE TRAVESTY WHERE MAN MUST CONQUER BEAST,
TO PROVE HIS COURAGE BEFORE THE CROWD, AND COMPASSION COUNTS THE LEAST.
AND RAGE AND PAIN AWAKENS WITHIN, A BLOODY LUST TO KILL.
SO MAN AND BEAST PREPARE TO GIVE THE MINDLESS MOB THEIR THRILL.


HE CHARGES CONSTANT TOWARD THE CAPE, HIS MUSCLES SLASHED AND WEAK.
HIS TORTURED BODY REELS AND TURNS, AS REVENGS HE TRIES TO WREAK.
OH! BUT MAN IS MUCH TOO CLEVER AS HE LEADS HIM ‘ROUND THE RING,
AND THE SCENE IMPRINTED IN MY MIND IS A MACABRE, GROTESQUE THING.


FINALLY BEAST CAN MOVE NO MORE AND STANDS AWAITING DEATH
BLOOD STREAMS FROM HIS NOSTRILS, AS HE LABOURS HARD FOR BREATH.
THE MATADOR LINES UP THE KILL, AS SILENCE REIGNS SUPREME,
THEN SWIFTLY SLAYS THE VALIANT BULL, AND I HEAR THE BASTARDS SCREAM.


AN INGLORIOUS END TO A GLORIOUS BEAST AND PROTESTS ARE IN VAIN,
BUT I WONDER WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF THE MEN, INSTEAD, WERE SLAIN.
IN LIFE I OFTEN PONDER THE DREADFUL STIGMA OF OUR LAND,’
AND WHAT HAS LEAST INTELLIGENCE? ANIMAL? OR MAN?

Comment by spook on February 20, 2009 at 2:57am

WINDS OF EMOTION

Soft the zephyr springing from the winter hinterland
Soft the sweet caresses of a silken ghostly hand.
And giddy with emotion she surrenders to the wind
For it’s like a sexual interlude, almost as if she’s sinned.

Tantalising, teasing, the breeze builds to a storm
But strange the breath on satin flesh serves to keep her warm.
And in her mind a lover is lifting her to heights
That only came at dreamtime on those lonely empty nights.

Those haunting nights of terror, when the tempest screamed and tore
At the physical surroundings, but still she yearned for more.
For only then her body, came alive at mortal feel
Only with the wind alive could sensuality be real

So as the howling, cyclonic wind threatens to undress,
She stands as if an offering to a demonic strange caress,
And trembling with orgasm she knows she hasn’t sinned
For only she can understand the emotions of the wind.

Comment by spook on February 20, 2009 at 2:51am

Addicted to chaos

I can’t feel good unless things are bad
I can’t feel happy unless others are sad

Why derive pleasure from other people’s pain
Why do I laugh when they struggle in vain

I have no pity for those that need it most
I have no directions for those that are lost

Why shouldn’t I smile when your world fall’s apart
Why not seek delight from your broken heart

I hate when things go right as I’m not in control
I hate that you don’t need me, don’t need me at all

Why can’t you leave me in this chaos that you left
Why can’t I drown in the tears that you wept

I want you to die in an agonising death
I want to be there when you breathe your last breath

Why must you torment me and play with my brain
Why must I endure your sadistic little game

I just don’t care if you walk out my door
I just can’t take that I love you even more

Why do the things that we love cause us pain
Why in hell did I give you my name

I laugh out loud at all that I have lost
I guess I must be addicted to chaos

Comment by spook on November 14, 2008 at 2:06am

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