MISCELLANEOUS Red Balloon Melodies - Art, Poetry, and more

Discussion in 'SHOWCASING' started by Pahncakes, May 2, 2016.

  1. [​IMG]

    Contents Poetry, creative writing, acrylic paintings.
    Artist RedWillow
    Why Red Balloon Melodies? Mostly just reminiscent of my first blog in '07
    New content? Possibly!

    I've recently re-found some old (2007) blogs I had when I was a teenager, on which I put a lot of my art and poetry. I was pretty much of the "emo" phase I suppose, but it was a rough period for me. I suffered from depression, self-mutilation, isolation, and emotional abuse. Read at your own risks, I suppose ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

    The first part will feature my old stuff. Almost all of my poetry will be translated from French to English - it might sound a bit off, but I'll be putting the original there for those who are interested.

    Also, I write free-form poetry that usually don't even rhyme. Honestly? I kinda hate forced-rhyming poetry.

    Some drawings / paintings will have terrible quality as they were taking in 2007-2008 without a camera phone or a scanner, but a good ole digital camera.
    #1 Pahncakes, May 2, 2016
    Last edited: May 3, 2016
  2. A Family of Ghosts
    August 2007

    The ghosts fly away in a deafened melody
    They've forgotten me, leaving me behind
    As if they they knew it, but I'm ignorant of it all
    Sarcasm wraps around me, and I smile

    The picture frame breaks and the heart explodes
    As the night, the ghosts are silent
    A grudge eats me but what can I do?
    If everything started over like before, and him?

    Should I forgive them and forget it all
    Or should hatred remain as my poison?
    Questions reaping more questions...
    But what happens with the answers?

    Crowned silence, and the ghosts applaud
    I'm the only puppet of this show
    So how can I explain to myself this family portrait
    When I do not even belong in it?


    Les fantômes s'envolent dans la mélodie sourde
    Ils m'oublient, me laissent derrière eux
    Comme s'ils le savaient, mais moi j'ignore tout
    Le sarcasme m'enveloppe et je souris

    Le carde de la photo se brise et le coeur éclate
    Comme la nuit, les fantômes sont silencieux
    Je leur en veux mais que puis-je faire?
    Si tout recommençait comme avant, et lui?

    Dois-je leur pardonner et tout oublier
    Ou est-ce que la haine doit rester pour m'empoisonner?
    Des questions, toujours des questions...
    Mais qu'arrive-t-il aux réponses?

    Silence courronnée, et les fantômes applaudissent
    Je suis la seule marionnette de cette scène
    Alors comment m'expliquer cette photo de famille
    Si je n'y appartient même pas?

    #2 Pahncakes, May 2, 2016
    Last edited: May 3, 2016
  3. The Doll of Time
    August 2007

    The verbal platitudes of my puppets tire me
    I am no longer their ventriloquist, I abandon myself
    He takes my place, too cold to understand
    The ice is already leaking in my eyes

    For too long, he forces me to forget
    But I just keep remembering more and more
    Do I really know all, really all of it?
    Is this the moment where the unforgivable isn't anymore?

    My doll has abandoned me, the dirty rag
    I no longer wanted her, but see how she left
    This bitter thing that I have become
    When she only wanted to save me, I stabbed her...

    I know it's too late, but the time has stopped
    Incorrectly, it reaches its paradox as it looks at me
    Am I in my world, where imagination no longer reigns...
    Like the ice in my eyes, reality makes me coldly distant...


    Les platitudes verbales de mes pantins me fatiguent
    Je n'en suis plus la ventriloque, je m'abandonne
    Il prend ma place, trop froid pour comprendre
    La glaçe coule déjà dans mes yeux

    Depuis trop longtemps, il me force à oublier
    Mais je ne fais que me remémorer encore plus
    Est-ce que je sais tout, vraiment tout?
    Est-ce que le moment est venu où l'impardonnable le sera ?

    Ma poupée m'a abandonné, cette sale chose
    Je n'en voulait plus, mais voilà qu'elle est partie,
    Cette chose amère que je suis devenue,
    Elle voulait me sauver, mais je ne l'aie que poignardé...

    Je sais qu'il est trop tard, mais il n'avance plus le temps
    Incorrectement, il atteint son paradoxe en me regardant
    Suis-je dans mon monde, l'imagination ne reigne plus...
    Comme la glaçe dans mes yeux, la réalité me rends froidement distante...

    #3 Pahncakes, May 3, 2016
    Last edited: May 3, 2016
  4. The Mirror of Shadows
    November 2007


    Once again, my blood tears fall, and I can't stop them from falling.
    They go further, further down my cheek and onto my chin.
    They flow, and go across my throat.
    Finally, they've reached my bloodied heart.
    I know it is more of something, but what is it?
    My black and white reflection is fading away, and it becomes dark red once again...
    Before becoming completely translucent.
    I failed.
  5. Raining in Me
    October 2007


    The rain continues to fall,
    Even with all the torn umbrellas
    Tip, tip, tip, tip...
    I am drowning within my dripping face

    The remorses are still here too
    Like flamboyant dresses, they are imprinted in our minds
    My fingers drum on the clouds as I listen to thunder
    I scream... but no, I roar

    I tear away my own skin, selling it to the lonesome
    With the ignorance of my fate in my hands
    Cry, repressive little vermin
    They don't see your tears in this thunderous rain

    My fears stand firmly before me
    I know I must face them, in this rain so heavy
    Just like tears in the rain, I become invisible
    Just like the sun behind clouds, I stand stripped alone

    La pluie continue de tomber,
    Même avec tous les parapluies déchirés
    Tip, tip, tip, tip...
    Je me noie dans mon visage d'eau

    Les remords sont encore là eux aussi
    Comme les robes flamboyantes, ils nous restent à l'esprit
    Je tambourine sur les nuages en écoutant le tonnere
    Je cris... mais non, je hurle

    J'arrache ma propre peau, la vendant aux solitaires
    Avec l'ignorance de mon sort entre les mains
    Pleur, petite grenouille regréssée
    On ne voit pas tes larmes sous la pluie tonitruante

    Mes peurs se dressent devant moi
    Je dois leur faire face, dans cette pluie si lourde
    Comme les larmes dans la pluie, je m'invisible
    Comme le soleil derrière les nuages, je me cache à nue

    #5 Pahncakes, May 3, 2016
    Last edited: May 3, 2016
  6. A Remedy to Forget
    December 2007

    I do not know anymore, I do not want to know
    Ignorance is a vile self-indulgent sin
    But in ignorance I am happy
    Bottle of vodka, help me to forget

    The cries are never-ending
    Even if my doll keeps consoling me
    I want to let my mask fall, however thick it is
    I can no longer hold out on this staged life

    Naughty little smile, trousers unbuttoned
    The need is there without the will, the pleasure
    My ears yearn only for those words
    Must I truly get so low to hear them?

    I do not want to know anymore, but it's too late
    Ideas fly out like headless arrows
    The Forgetfulness slips down my throat
    And the red balloons burst into the wind...


    Je ne sais plus, je ne veux plus savoir
    L'ignorance est l'ignoble péché de soi
    Mais dans l'ignorance je suis heureuse
    Bouteille de vodka, aide-moi à oublier

    Les pleurs n'en finissent plus
    Même si ma poupée continue de me consoler
    Je veux laisser tomber mon masque, si épais soit-il
    Je n'en suis plus capable de cette mise en scène

    Petit sourire coquin, pantalons détachés
    Le manque y est sans la volonté, le plaisir
    Mes oreilles ne veulent que ces mots
    Mais dois-je me mettre si bas pour les entendre?

    Je ne veux pas savoir, mais il est trop tard
    Les idées volent comme des flèches sans ailes
    Les oublieurs coulent dans ma gorge
    Et les ballons rouges pètent au vent...

    #6 Pahncakes, May 3, 2016
    Last edited: May 3, 2016
  7. A Child's Dream
    May 2016

    Thy hands of thorns
    Desperately grasping, clutching
    Leaving roads of crimson
    For the child, thy kin, to bear

    Masqueraded playgrounds in summer
    Dusk hiding the seeking heart
    Blinded by kindness til dawn
    Withered petals in the shadows

    Hungry for a gentle voice
    Guiding hands of thorns
    Clutching for a crimson smile
    To hide the roads of scars

    For the child... For I to drown
    Inside a shattered sea
    To stumble upon thy playgrounds
    For dawn is but another dream

    I haven't written free-form poetry in a really long time. Forgive me for the presumptuous thy. I felt like it.
  8. A Storm at Shore
    May 2016

    Rusted anchors at my feet
    Washed out by the shattered sea
    Locked onto my ankles, loosely
    Yet I must not be unchained

    Lips frosted with salt, cheeks fissuring
    I grip the jagged knife, unnerving
    With every moment of sorrow and grief
    Thrust upon myself, alone, deep into the flesh

    Crystallized in a pose, on my knees
    Helpless under your storms of thunder
    The knife caressing the bone
    Cutting through your desperate grip

    The rusted anchors mold ruthlessly
    Asleep on a bed of crimson, again
    Incapable of standing, limbs ironed hard
    Into the chains, afloat in the sea
    #8 Pahncakes, May 8, 2016
    Last edited: May 16, 2016
  9. The Lost Ship
    May 2016

    Her compass seemed broken
    The glass cracked, the arrow uneven
    Heading north, set course with high sails
    The shattered sea raging on the wood

    She sailed without certainty
    Her map ruined by endless storms
    The arrow pointed north
    But stars were shining south

    Carelessly, she moved yet further
    Leaving devastation and brightness
    The ship creaked and protested
    But the waves had long deafened her

    Her heart soared beyond the horizon
    Fire burning her eyes and soul
    Her broken compass lead her astray
    Yet she pushed the fatigued sails

    As the fire died, her soul shattered
    In the sea without certainty
    Her maps withered away, today
    And still she grips the sinking ship
  10. The Puppet Show
    May 2016

    She's a broken toy, ragged doll
    Bent into habit by love and loss
    She staggers off the stage
    Her strings flimsy and unmoving

    Locked back into her shattered mind
    Maybe tomorrow will be better
    But her tomorrows never come
    They pity her, though she is blind

    The golden shrine has faded
    She hopes it will be dawn again
    It is so dark in this closet
    Even her eyes cannot discern him

    Her stitched arms are always reaching
    For whom is holding her strings
    She is not hopeless, knowing the tale
    Perhaps her stage will be lit again
  11. The Stars and Moon
    May 2016

    On the verge of the cliff
    She stares at the moon
    Unyielding in its beauty
    Inebriated and breathless

    Her burnt soul, a lump of ash
    Doesn't disappear in the summer breeze
    It stales the air, suffocates her
    She reaches for the stars again

    Her back scarred by fallen wings
    The grass feels sharp now
    Anchored in place, she smiles
    Her blind eyes weeping tomorrow

    Another endless night, starlit
    Not even a cloud or shadow
    To make her feel again
    Like a beast mocked by her savior
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  12. Soaring in the Night
    May 2016

    She chokes on her sins
    Desire deep down her throat
    Hands bound behind her back
    Unreachable, yet so calm inside

    Another hit, another chain broken
    She is left begging again
    Be free, he says, he chants
    He pulls her hair for an encore

    Inebriated on an endless night
    She could care less about dawn
    Like an animal rattling its cage
    She roars alone at the stars

    He is her, she is him
    For but a moment they smile
    So calm and free, in their hearts
    Until the candle dies out, they soar
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