I got some paint pens :3

So of course im gonna test them out with some quick doodles

DECEPTIONS

I. Apparently the world seems to evolve around Five floor mansions belonging to the affluent celebrities A hundred eyes seek amusement from the pictures Of glossy teenage social media moguls and depraved Fantasies of men spouting their conservative views All around Excluding of course, the frustrated desires of misogynists Could it be, that the world has gone backwards? That maybe in the blink of an eye We let the progressive ideal slip out of our hands We stood at the edge of the sea, at the edge of all reflection And hugged each other in a deep boat of intimacy Our lips were stained with red lipstick And the hands were smudged with decisions We would have liked to have called our own Still The world kept moving, time kept flourishing Into flowers which we worshipped in our gardens The vibrancy of a broken dream morphed into The sheer hopeful fantasy from our sunflowers See how they grow! They do not wither and die, no. No. They grow better with more light, the longer age And we should learn from that. Perhaps you and I Should take a walk into our garden When it is dark, when it is only the two of us And you're beautiful, draped by delicious colours And I feel young again, I feel ignorant once more. II. The preacher boomed in his Californian voice "JUDGEMENT DAY IS UPON YE, REPENT TO YOUR LORD, TO YOUR SAVIOUR AND FEEL THE BLISSFUL TRANQUILLITY OF REPENTANCE!" No one pretends to know him, to pay attention to such cursed words Instead they all belong somewhere They all belong to someone If not a lover, well then themselves They walk on and the preacher has his hope The world is merely a home to call a womb For the true birth lies at the golden gates of paradise In which Adam and Eve committed the first sin The cursed apple picked from the very chaste tree And then when something divine was soiled The world was shadowed by corruption Religion: People want to have faith in something, someone But the clouds are so dense That it is hard to find solace In a book A very dry outlook upon the fury of Roman Catholicism When Henry VIII did defy the papacy All for the temptations of Anne Boleyn A sea of red blood in the deaths of Spanish Catholics At the hands of Henry's heir: Gloriana The wrath of religion From the hundred years war To the war upon terrorism Which breeds such insecurities upon those Living with a real fear and indifference towards The preachers Do you remember looking up to the sky Before the rain descended And praying for the sun to shine One day before we all fell into the tabloids again? III. The liberal does shake at his insensitivity It has strengthened the roles of conservatives When Trump stood upon the podium And the White House quit the Obamas Oh, you could hear the rage The fury of the liberals Bleeding in the streets For hope For truth For some kind of great reward Which was given to the rednecks And in England The place of New Labour We saw the signs in March which proclaimed 'VOTE LEAVE, TAKE BACK CONTROL' When someone feels retired of control It makes a person feel scared Scared that they cannot achieve anything How could you?! When the government has the money When the yuppies buy more properties And your education system is so weak That you lose your hopes in such pharmaceuticals And what did Jeremy Corbyn: the 'blessed saint' Ever do for us? We always had justice it was never lost We were given a new world when the millennium came We just did not know what to do with it. IV. How about you and I construct a real manifesto Not one of lust Not one of ruffian desire But one of love True love You and I In each others arms Your golden hair spread around your body My careful hands spread around your truths You remind me we had the words That February night When I told you I loved you (ha ha) Well I suppose you were right You with your video games Me with my real lust for literature I let my hair grow long Started writing songs And then finally poetry Everyone wants to be a poet The glory The adulation The sex The participation The readings But no one wants to be a realist any more How long have I fatigued my reader with girls and boys They could only dream of? If I must paint pictures I shall do so on my own terms I am an artist And where there is desolation I paint flowers I bring life and rosy kisses To the frail graves Of the gothic histories I appreciate my readers, all having their eyes upon me I have tested them and shall continue to do so As an artist should do so To conform to the public interest is to attempt masochism I want the new The alien Because that is the birthright of intellectualism Breathing new ideas From the darkness which does exist in ignorance But I must end with a vivid picture of the deceptions which I was a victim of- Lights camera action V. EMMELINE Havent seen her in a while I do think of her From time to time And it is not alien Of me to want her when I know She does not want me Her thighs are roses Her mind is a corrupt flower But her heart is a sunflower Never have I loved a young woman Quite as I loved her Tears birthed from alcoholic Saturdays Ariel on the shores She walks, She walks! Celluloid heart I am ashamed of it I feel disfigured But when she was with MARIE I never quite met a girl like she She liked to act To sing a song Lloyd Webber on the brain The curious case of the kid Who drank too many coffees And met some people Who were kind But fuck, Were more than capable Of breaking my heart I saw Marie at a party We did not talk But she looked young Just like I remember her I love everyone Because they remind me Why I write I do see discomfort I do see suffering But by god's cloud I do believe in beauty Keats on his summer odes I do believe in liberty Shelley on the cliffs penning his philosophies And I do believe in second chances That even if we live in shattered visages Desolate lands Which we do not understand We can change them Not from saying 'I guess' And shrugging But from VI. Enlightenment I have missed you, my pretty friend I hold you and never let you go.