The many identities of Stanley Tucci.
This is one of favorite actors… i can watch him in every new form and get surprised every single time… he is a brilliant actor!
and though
the world
glows too bright
i can see
your beautiful face
in the middle of
all that light
and spark
and noise
and be overwhelmed
with joy
and i feel
that’s how
it feels
to be
in love…
hello world!
this is not
love
for the first time
its love
a millionth time
once again
here i am
singing
what i have been
singing
all along
once again
doing what
i do best
write poems
made of
just
LOVE.
Art & Photography: Erik Madigan Heck
Erik Madigan Heck is a New York—based photographer who, though not yet 30 years of age, has worked with some of the most exclusive names in fashion, including Ann Demeulemeester and Valentino.
you can cover yourself
with all the colors
of the world
and still you will be
this beautiful
and god-sent girl
perfectly blending
in every design
made with the hands
of manly hands
yet made so to
adore your soul…
(via devidsketchbook)
in the depth of this night
all i truly seek
is to rest in calm
in the deep abyss of your arms
your body pressed to mine
in such a beautiful way
that nothing would dare
to shake me from
your loving embrace…
true love follows us
through life
like a piece of shadow
inseparable from
a wandering body
made to move
by the forces of life
like a dream that shattered
it scares us like a lost soul
returned to the human world
as a ghost
true love is like
a flower sometimes
you grow it
and you watch it
but when it dies
it really hurts inside
like a diamond that we had
but now we don’t
and it pains to see
that half of our self
hanging in the middle
of nowhere
alone.
like a dying piece of moss
still struggling for air
i live like a dependent creature
upon the moisture of fate
sucking in all that t can
living till the very last moment
dreaming of fantasies i might never achieve
after all it can be difficult sometimes
to live as we always want to
a life spent in yearning for the perfect dream
a life spent in little actions and decreasing memories…
i see you in
simple songs
lost shadows in the mud
in the clouds
floating
i see your form
waving to me
your love
in the days when
i have nothing to do
and on days when
i have a world to attend
i always think of you
just you…
we were designed so
to rewrite with our hands
what nature had already written
created us as its own nose
to smell itself
and cherish the feeling
as a piece of memory
forever, in pages made of
her pulp.
we suffer,
we break out,
we free ourselves,
we win in the end,
regain our own mystery,
our own happiness,
our own life.
Poetry is a world so vast, wild, free, and beautiful. Poetry is a song that catches you and traps you in its twisting emotions and an array of memories. To me poetry let’s me express what I have to vent without being blunt and discovered. I write my vague map to give the adventurous minds something to ponder and lose themselves to. Poetry is my beauty, my map, my life, my game.
my words
express my thoughts
my thoughts express
in vague glimpses
what is locked inside
my heart.
every song
is an indistinguishable part
of the soul of
its writer…
its the same door
once again
the darkness divine
waiting eagerly to
consume my song…
