Masked

I drew this on August 20th 2011.  The inspiration behind this piece of art was simply draw into existence anything that should come forth.  This is the product.

Drawn with Sharpies.  In uploading the art I placed a mild black shadow as a border for the site.  Other than that the art is hand drawn.  Hope you like it.

Masked

Artist: Randy Sturridge

No Release

Written by: By: Heidi Chester 8/26/2011

My eyes are open and instinct tells me I breathe.

Though I cannot be certain, I only feel it when I bleed.

My heart skips a beat, then pounds in my chest.

One more reminder, one more piece of me near death.

I have grown empty, and I do not feel distress.

There is no confusion, just inside a bloody mess.

There is nothing that can hurt me, so numb I feel no pain.

I tear myself wide open, searching for life inside my veins.

But I find nothing, no freedom, no release.

I cannot even feel remorse, for the lack of inner peace

I do not long or love, miss or wonder, nor seek the reasons why

I do not fear that I do not know just how I am alive.

I do not ask if it will end, or somehow disappear.

I won't survive if feeling returns. No, I much prefer it here.

Genuine Construct

Never stop, never settle down

One step ahead, on safer ground

Lock the windows, draw the shades

Down with the lights…candles okay

Struggle a constant, picking my head

Must secure a solution unique and unsaid

Perilous days are all that remain

Evacuated majority wanted no more pain

Malicious mistreated revenge declared

Tattered remnants from societal warfare

A genuine construct novel and beyond

Electrical particles tested all wrong

Plausible admonitions cautioned to late

as ideas of wonder influenced rage

Disease took hold unfathomed in stride

Purging the land not a matter of sides

Who are the victims who are the foe

No sides declared just survive with the flow

randy sturridge

Rusty Devices

Deduct a difference embrace a change

Position a splint between insanity and sane

Rusty devices just at arms reach

Tools to separate my skin from me

Dig into flesh to release the poison

Breathe of euphoria with senses so heightened

Sick with myself and entirely down

Seeking happiness from anyone around

Structure is gone disorder now lurks

The mis-managed thoughts brings me to my knees

Pride abolished by misunderstood motives

Resulting in the same outcome beholden

Crave my life that allows me to see

The positive informative useful employee

A life all alone with someone at home

Succumbing to pain that propels the unknown

Hope remains but I am defeated

I need someone else to hold me when weeping

I can’t explain the way I feel

Without conveying it all so unclear

Travel back in time…just hit reset

Undue all the fighting, regrets lets forget

I just want happiness more than any other thing

Frantically hoping to be saved by my queen

How do I change when my soul is not well

I’ve already resigned that my existence is hell

The easy solution ever so present

Just end it all by accepting a death sentence

Wrap me in a blanket and ill weep in joy

That you’ve saved me and rebirthed life’s playful noise

For I am blind, deaf and depressed

Waiting on love’s beautiful kiss

I’ve stomped it out living like a ghoul

Please help me I can’t help myself no more

I don’t want to be remembered for being down

I instead want to be saved and make everyone proud.

randy sturridge

Miserably Me

What’s the point of continuing on

When dying feels like such a beautiful song

It will lift the fog that holds these empty days

Allowing, maybe, a smile to grace my face

long, heavy thoughts drain my strength

depression beyond control yesterday and today

like a patient I am slave to a bed in one place

without even strength to window gaze

I want it to end this life of suffering

Hoping all the time to just more than nothing

Nothing, never just impossible feelings

That transcend beyond my physical dwelling

The only solution that I continue to see

Is To end this life that is miserably me

Randy Sturridge

Today is Pretty

How do I know what is going on?
My eyes see it. My ears hear them.
My legs walk slowly and I am patient.

I visit friends as we come closer to the wall.
My shrine is ancient just as I want it to be.
Every day I see the truth.
I get bigger gifts than you can see.

What do I do today?
I shall be at peace.
I will call out to the sky.
It hears my cry and I am grateful.

Today I am beautiful.
Today I have true love.

I move forward along my beautiful life.
I become quiet because I am not the way I feel.
I get to heaven each day because I am there already.

W. Wayne B.



April 2011

networking info:
Bill Smith


http://wordpress.wwayneb.com
http://sesquicentennial.deviantart.com
bills@wwayneb.com

Beautiful Monstrosity

I

Love to provide but not a soul wants

The compassionate nature the hideous boy flaunts

He is precious and so very sincere

Opening the door and speaking so clear

Conduct of kings with love so immense

Not a woman can stay and endure his features

A book burned and blackened contains loveliness with

Refraining from the depression the boy determined to win

He assures himself that all will be sound

With love to give he will find his dove

Aghast though he is his soul sours above

II

The ugly man hides his face by a thick beard

Drunk and confused his mind aggrieved unclear

Just enough cash to buy a cheap whore

Corner of Ridgewood he can afford

Love love love fuck the white dove

A tired crow follows begrudged

Stay in the shadows the ugly man resents

His face of unique characteristics unkempt

Blackened the days have passed with  neglect

From loves excoriating cruel crawled years  

Easy it is to hunt down a whore

A moments reprieve from love’s torturous  sword

III

The old unsightly man now vagrant and beggar

never having found love's beautiful nectar

The emotional burden his soul entertained

For decades upon decades his heart

so pained

Now Bitter and Hateful the old ugly man is plagued

With dreams of love that the ugly boy had slain

 

 Death round the corner for the ugly old man

Pondering memories of love in his hands

Never obtained but dreamed he did

That someone in the world had love for him

Resigned to defeat he finally sees

That god doesn’t bless monstrosities

Death takes the man as he slumbers and dreams

Awaiting a love that will never be. 

randy sturridge