Tuesday Afternoon

Being perfect isn’t about being flawless
It’s about not wanting to be any different.

and random is, as random does
and random is by name
and still I search for meaning
randomly each day…

glass explodes out, from the heavens
refracting and reflecting light
then rains down, it looks like fractals
onto the mourning world below

I whisper you stories
without an end
hoping the anticipation
will keep you hanging, on

Thank you very much all of you who voted for my pictures and I want to thank all the wonderful host/co-hosts who may have chosen my work.

+*Featured in The Red Barn Group No…

Its words that I use to construct my face
a simile in between my ears is set in place
and the metaphors cluster to each other to form
A crooked smile that sings out analytical, satirical, …

The dust in the air
makes my breath fade
the last reign of sunshine
is now a distant shade
if I never wake tomorrow
when the twilight breaks to dawn
if I cannot breathe that fresh harsh a…

Love’s Labour’s Found *
written by Sabine A. Rusted

featuring love quotes by
William Shakespeare & Emily Bronte

The first time i looked into your eyes i knew there was something special. I just wish that one day that beautiful smile will be directed towards me. The sweet personality, the laughable, lovea…

With each step into the quiet night
I leave a star to
Find my way home

"But you’re still young"

If we had no age, what would your argument be?

Less gullibility, improved assessment of others, and memory improvement…

Its getting harder to
Hide my hopes
But the curve of your lips say
You already knew

I will love you and care for you,
until my dying day
But betray me once, and I will disappear
from your existence without a second glance

For those who woke up
With malice in their heart
Give thanks on thanksgiving
That I haven’t found you yet…

Within the ideals of a materialistic society lies the perpetuated belief that self image is a reflection of soul, body, and mind. Its these skewed bastardized ideals that have degraded culture …

We could strip ourselves of culture,
Play in the mud.
And as the dirt clustered our figures,
We’d smile for something deeper then these puddles.
Cause in the end, that’s all we are
Dirty …

Her body, euphonic
Intoxicating.
Reality set in when she whispered "Come in"

Her back hit the wall
Where he held her wrists strong
Restraint is the game
That the girls and boys play. …