Real Cie Reviews: Tarot Coloring Book

This is a beautifully designed little book with wonderfully intricate pictures to color. Meditate on the archetypal images while relaxing, relieving stress, and allowing your subconscious to strengthen and expand. Coloring is a wonderful and soothing activity for adults and can be helpful for those working through trauma. The designs are innovative and will please those who collect and enjoy Tarot cards.

Print the pages from the e-book or purchase the physical book with the pages ready to go!

~Cie~

Senryu: Ten of Swords

I Blinked and the World Was Gone

Photoshop Manipulation by The Real Cie

That you were so brave

 When there was no hope at all

 Is all that remains

 ~Cie~

NaPoWriMo 2017: Day 9: The Nines

Card from the Deviant Moon tarot deck

When I was nine

I dreamed of a time

When all would be fine

The world would be mine

Everyone would be kind

Now if I live to be ninety-nine

I know that I can never find

The things that have been lost to time

In a world so very unkind

~Cie~

NaPoWriMo 2015: Day 23: Luck of the Draw

Luck of the Draw

Mania

Hypomania

However you want to call it

Burns magical through the synapses

Every moment unfolds

The greatest story ever told

Magical moments where you think you can fly

You feel so high

Wondrous burning that you never want to end

Like being at a party where the music never stops

Like being the hero of your own amazing movie

Being

Hyper-being

Fire burning

World turning

Every bit of news is good news

Nothing can go wrong

When the song in your head is wild

Real wild child

Every moment is hot

And you

Are just too

too

too

cool

It's like cocaine

It sets fire to your brain

The rain is made of diamonds

Your heart is full of soul

You can do no wrong

This song

And every song

Is your song

Heart beats wild

Real wild child

But when the chandelier comes crashing to the floor

You need to run damage control

But everything has gone to hell

Your brilliant mind reveals you to be

The butt of the joke

When you see yourself clearly in the mirror

You know that no-one could love you

You are the ugliest thing

Not the belle of the ball at all

Just another loser

Lost in the illusion

Brought on by mania

But now the party's over

You're home with Mother Depression

And she's one hell of a bitch

~Wanda~

Notes:

If you were lucky enough to draw the Bipolar Disorder card in this life, this poem needs no explanation.

The Prompt:

And now for today’s prompt (optional, as always). Today, I challenge you to take a chance, literally. Find a deck of cards (regular playing cards, tarot cards, uno cards, cards from your “Cards Against Humanity” deck – whatever), shuffle it, and take a card – any card! Now, begin free-writing based on the card you’ve chosen. Keep going without stopping for five minutes. Then take what you’ve written and make a poem from it. (Hat tip to Amy McDaniel for the idea!)

Love is the Ten of Swords

I love you.
Not just when it's tragically hip to do so.
Not just when your band is the "in thing."
Not just when you're young and unconventionally handsome.
Not just when things are going good.
Not because I'm a pretty girl (I'm not) who likes to prove she can get any man she sets her mind to.
Not only when it's a nice day or I'm hypomanic or at least the charnel smell isn't blowing down from the damn meat packing plant to the North of where I live.
Not even only when your beautiful, sharp mind is at its best and you're cooking up something new and wonderful.
I love you when it hurts like hell to do so.
I love you because you deserve to be loved.
I love you because you were, are, and always will be a cut above.
I love you because you're beautiful in the ways that really count.
I love you even though I know how it makes me look.
I love you even though it makes my heart feel like it's being ripped out by dull razor blades and sometimes stabbed through by burning swords.
It never ends--I always will love you.

Please visit this very talented artist. http://elric2012.deviantart.com/art/Ten-of-Swords-190084600

~Cie~

 

Cross-Posted to:

Dream about Me Sweet Brother

(NSFW blog. Contains slash/explicit gay erotica)

 

Poetry of the Netherworld

 

 

Even when he started showing signs of how frail and sick he was becoming, he still didn’t want to be a burden to anyone, and so he kept trying to be strong and do what he believed was right.

And so, this is why I can’t stop talking about him.

That and the fact that he saved my life more than once when I was a miserable, lonely, scapegoated, mentally ill teenager just by making music that was for people like me, not for the “cool” kids, but for the rejects, for the lonely, the angry, the pissed off. For people who everyone else thought was worthless. Malcolm Young did not give a rare rat fuck about being cool. I loved that about him—love that about him.

Always in the present tense, because that is a feeling that will never die.