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Dread

thedread1

About Me

The Darq within my convex head has filled me with a sense of Dread, a ticking at my fragile heart that might as well refuse to start this war inside my monkeyverse, explode, release, fulfill my curse until I see inside this macromemBrane open wide shedding light onto My shadow is an echo of my self-reflective self. He knows my shape and keeps it well and waves when I wave back. My shadow is a ricochet of dark where I am light. He knows my secrets, keeps them well, and paints my visage black. High noon he'll lie where shadows sleep, within the Darq of dwellings deep where riddles, shards of truth, will keep to quiet corners, lurking in the whole that is my soul because this sole survivor status means that some must thrive or hate us for the fittest to be victor. Shake the world, erase the picture, that these lines connect to form within the vision of the norm that only lends itself to counting chaos, fools, and fiends, getting by and getting high by any necessary means so if my self may beg your pardon please excuse the raging hard-on as I die. It's just so deadly soft beneath the gravestone where I lie with broken memories of times I spent asleep, sinking into Darqness and the everlasting deep. Home | Browse | Search | Invite | Film | Mail | Blog | Favorites | Forum | Groups | Events | Videos | Music | Comedy | Classifieds

My Interests

Serpentwined sensation, somehow snaking through my soul. Where the ticket-taker's taxing I refuse to pay the toll. There is feces in my theses here, which means I'm full of shits, but I can't escape the mouth agape that slobbers, snarls and spits. But that aside, because I lied you'll never know the why, until you seek the winding creek and truly learn to fly. If you're looking for my meaning, or you still don't catch my drift, then try working well on weaning from the wide and weary rift between the self and sane, between the boon and bane, between the rule and reign.

Movies:

Enter the Matrix - I and me and I alone sat very, very still within a distant cave within a very distant hill. Half my days in darkness spent and half my nights in light, watching shadow picture-shows, an exercise in sight. Dim and bright were married there upon the rocky wall, shades of life that played in fair, I named them One and All. I traced their paths to origin and lo did I behold the long lost exit to the den and beams of purest gold. And Shadows, solid shadows played in colors blue and green, and trees had leaves and wooden sleeves and water, cool and clean, did shimmer in the morning light and flicker, sparkle, sheen. Once I slept within the dust, beneath the earthen floor, but when I woke with opened eye I was a worm no more.

Books:

Books do not hold truth. Truth cannot be told, but rather it must be discovered. Within each soul is the power to create truth and to sustain truth. The power of the word is not to convey a message, but an idea. The idea is the foundation of belief, and the belief is the substance of truth. There is no meaning here; don't bother looking. There is no purpose to these words except the booking. Let your hands run free with ink and paint and clay and sin. Stop. Let go. Make puppet-show, and never play to win. There's more to see than you and me will ever hope to find, unless we look outside the book and search within the mind. Let these simple words ring true in this and every age: There is more learning in a pencil than in every written page.

My Blog

"Ride of the Nightmare"

A series of 13 cinquains on nightmares...                               Umb...
Posted by Dread on Tue, 06 Feb 2007 04:11:00 PST

"Stargazing"

Counting skyflies, one by one, Where dusk has met its end. The tyranny of father Sun Is lost to even's wind.   Tracing shapes between the light Where few but gods have tread, I seek to crown new ...
Posted by Dread on Tue, 21 Nov 2006 10:53:00 PST

"Return to the Land of the Lotos-Eaters"

This poem is based on an older poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson called "Land of the Lotos-Eaters," which is based on a story from one of the oldest and longest poems called "The Iliad" by Homer. All text ...
Posted by Dread on Wed, 29 Mar 2006 09:45:00 PST

"Midnight at the Wishing Well"

Midnight at the wishing well I dropped a penny in, Mumbling softly as it fell And chanting now and then.   Is a penny proper fee To barter hope from gods below? Eventide encompassed me, Ev...
Posted by Dread on Wed, 03 May 2006 12:32:00 PST

Kielgade <--> English Dictionary

I decided to link my dictionary here, in case anyone gives a damn. :) Kielgade-to-English Dictionary: http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/34185899/ Also, here is a link to my deviantART gallery, where...
Posted by Dread on Wed, 13 Sep 2006 10:57:00 PST

"Infinagogue"

The church of All is calling meTo witness out of doorsThe flight of seagulls hungrilyExploring distant shores.Let the squirrels and rabbits lectureTill the golden calves come home.All the rest is pure...
Posted by Dread on Thu, 08 Jun 2006 11:52:00 PST

Son of the Devil

As some of you may know, my family is from Romania, and I've always wanted to set a poem in that region's historic turmoil. This is what I came up with. Enjoy! :)   "Son of the Devil"   In t...
Posted by Dread on Tue, 06 Jun 2006 09:17:00 PST

"Mirror-Gallery"

I wrote this for an art show that will take place on May 17th to celebrate the art of Heath Tullier (penciler/colorist ICON Studios). "Mirror-Gallery" Come follow me into a world where daydreams spark...
Posted by Dread on Wed, 03 May 2006 08:32:00 PST

Aries' Song

Pounding on the gateway, but they still won't let me in. They're all but dead and so are we. There's no war left to win. "It's over, done, the battle won," I shout towards the wall. The stark stale ...
Posted by Dread on Tue, 28 Mar 2006 11:59:00 PST

"Qes Sotan Malta Celtequa" In Kielgade and English

Qes sotan malta celtequa = There is always hopeKro fa sotan hakhour = For it is eternalTro oro rode tal bina = In all that we doHhal sotan mol tala bayor = God is at our side.Qes sotan malta celtequa ...
Posted by Dread on Tue, 21 Mar 2006 01:37:00 PST