tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62013140908539118112024-03-13T10:17:27.105-07:00Matthew Wayne's BloggerThis Blog has been Retired...DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.comBlogger62125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-55567305008460586972010-11-25T13:25:00.001-08:002010-11-25T13:29:32.457-08:00'The End'I have decided that this will be my final post in this blog, but for those who do still lurk and keep a ever casual eye towards my posts will be able to find me at Facebook <a href="http://www.facebook.com/DamienHaze">http://www.facebook.com/DamienHaze</a>, until at which time I either break down and create another more useful blog, or get a webpage up and running. we will see which happens firstDamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-80237256660587511832010-05-09T21:16:00.000-07:002010-05-09T21:18:41.641-07:00UpdateI am still alive, still breathing and still working hard on my book.<br />It seems though I still lack the motivation to update my blog here. I have posted new things yet only on my myspace blog. (convience factor) hopefully however that will change rather soon :)<br />Expect big things coming up...DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-42139974361544005042010-03-27T04:32:00.000-07:002010-03-27T04:37:06.300-07:00Psycho-Confessions - "An Inchoerent Tangent"<span style="font-size:78%;">It has been awhile since I updated my blog, I have been busy at work on my book and to celebrate touching the half way point I've decided to post another excerpt from the book.</span><br /><br /><div align="left">~~)(~~<br /><br /><strong>'An incoherent Tangent'<br /></strong><br /><strong>1.<br /></strong><br />Humanity is doomed to fail, our sins are catching up with us and fast. We have disregarded everyone around us as lesser then ourselves. Trivial in your eyes as you go about your day. However in that, placing yourself over another you fail to look openly and objectively. That perhaps that person you mentally demeaned will face many of the same choices, trials and hardships you yourself have or will have to face.<br /><br />“Take a walk within my shoes, and I shall show you my trials and tribulations”<br />So much pain and suffering is caused by the ignorance that is our misunderstanding of another, our blatant disregard or disrespect of that individual. Not everyone sees the common connection we all share, We are all brothers, and sisters and not through the biblical teachings, but rather through the understanding that we are of the same race, same species. Humans inhabiting a small blue planet, in a juggle of darkness. If we continue down this path of destruction we too will be put on an endangered species list.<br />It almost seems impossible as six billion or more inhabit this planet, yet we continue to kill and wages wars, murder in the name of religion or nation building and once again forgetting or ignoring the purple elephant in the room which is we all bleed, we all hurt and we all love. Separated by cultural differences.<br /><br /><strong>2.<br /></strong><br />We are all related, on the quantum level. Our universe, the bodies and everything around us is made up of atoms and molecules. A connection that exists, but not for the naked eye to see. A greater picture to be held, we are gods to our own universe. The perception of reality in which we can change at will. What we desire, we can ultimately manifest. The only thing that can stop it is ourselves.<br /><br />What is our spirit? Our living consciousness? Hidden to our view is the knowledge that our bodies generate invisible waves, currents in an ever changing ocean of tidal waves. Energy in it's purest form, innocent yet chaotic is it's nature.<br /><br />What is death? The continuous cycle of life and death, and the greatest mystery to man. Entire religions created out of this question. Possibly based on fear, the fear of the unknown. Fear of the loss of control, A person spends their entire life with the idea they have control over their lives, So why not an afterlife.<br />The Answer to death, is to live. For in that lies our true gift, to experience what it means to be alive, to breath the air, to taste and to touch, to understand all the possibilities this life has to offer, good or bad. Its what we make it.<br />When we die, will all the answer be revealed? The secrets to the universe explained? As I have mentioned many times before, that only those who have gone before us truly knows the answers.<br /><br /><strong>3.</strong><br /><br />“Shadow's dance about the walls, and where things were once insignificant are now important. Lessons that were once instilled and remembered, now decayed and protected by ignorance. Debates shot down as soon as we peer into the archives. Even now to few remember, to many are still blinded by the fancy light and smooth words. Hunters who prey upon the weak minded, easy fooled, or light hearted. Deceived they simply become tools for their inventors, being sent on what they believe as their crusade. Holy within their thoughts, they do no wrong, and forgiven by their own stupidity. The innocents lost by that war simply became casualties by nature.”<br /><br /><strong>4.</strong><br /><br />“unforgivable sins, measured by the unforgiving crowd. A civilization on the surface, a two faced populace. Come sit in the pew, worship your god and be forgiven. Come the next day and your a born again sinner, hiding under the flesh, a spirit that is no test. An unforgivable reminder that your only human, only mortal. Stricken with unlimited beauty and disgust.”<br /><br /><br /><em>“Like the story of eve,<br />only it's not the apple that is the deceit<br />It's the forbidden knowledge and feelings I seek”</em> </div>DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-24512437323248345752010-02-11T09:52:00.000-08:002010-02-11T09:55:49.590-08:00Psycho-Confessions: The Emotion of Love<br><Br>Exclusive excerpt from my up coming Book <b>Psycho-Confessions</b><br /><br><Br><br /><b>The Emotion of Love, and the nature of its power</b><br />By: Matthew Wayne<br /><br /><br /> <center><span style="font-style:italic;">“So many sacrifices made, in this quest for love<br /> from the pits of hell, I watched as my angel soared above”</span></center><br /><br /> How can one properly describe, or even explain the true impact this one emotion has over our lives, down to the very pits of despair to the beautiful stars that light up our night's sky. Without love you become hallow, numb and dead to everyone you ever will come in contact with. Love would be one of the single most reasons why we continue to thrive, to struggle on through the marshes. To go through hell just to save that one you love. Many people see love as being the meaning of life, to live is to love they would argue. Yet not everyone has the pleasure to experience such a powerful conviction in one's life. Spending their whole lives in search of this sacred relic. Then there are those who have loved, and who have lost, only to see it slip through their fingers like sand, each grain a memory into a past moment of time. <br />However this emotion has effected you in your life, one must not forget its power it holds over our many other emotions and desires, It can inspire the most amazing feelings and a second later the most dreaded thoughts. It stands above all our other feelings for it can incite nearly all the other's even hate, even hope. It can destroy friendships in a single wave, while saving another from a lifetime of solitude and misery. <br /><br /> <span style="font-style:italic;">“For they do not know the true effects this emotion has over me, I am and will always be a man who craves this one desire and emotion, this love and passion. I need it more then I need the blood coursing through my body. For without love this world is cold, gray, and empty. The love in which I seek has lead me down a path of heart breaks. For I once Saw an Angel, For I once saw a goddess and they smiled upon me with open arms. Only to watch them vanish before my eyes, leaving me once again alone, in the cold. Love is a dream, whether real or an illusion its one you never have to wake from. So I find myself back at where I had started, on this path, this quest. For love will always be the key, that set's my trapped heart free.”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">“A Rose in Winter”</span><br /><br />She reminds me of the beauty that can still be found in this hollowed out society, morality tossed away for cheap thrills moments of meaningless pleasure. Yet to find this rose, this beauty you must look far and wide in the darkest of rooms, past the stones that make up the walls that were built by pain and torment. I've told her many times yet feel as though they land on deaf ears, as though she never heard me. Can she truly understand how much truer words were never spoken. “Through her, I find reason through insanity” I can breath once again and feel the air pass into my lungs, My world became alive. Yet through all the warnings she pushes back, pushes away. Fear? Stress? Or perhaps simply does not realize it. One moment I am staring into her eyes, the next I am seeing an all to familiar reflection, an invisible wall, It's always the small things at first. Secrets not shared, Conversations that seem to disappear with the fleeting physical desires and the look in her eyes that always suggest something is wrong, yet the words never escape her lips. Even a rose in winter, needs love, needs to be watered and nourished, for if the rose wilts and dies, will I once more be abandoned to the harsh winter? Would she remember me, ever meaning more to her as I felt I did? <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">“So many who have loved, lost<br />and so many still pay the ultimate cost<br />I have walked this ground alone for so many years<br />carrying a broken heart, still tasting the tears<br />We all continue to run, while this earth crawls<br />forgetting to slow down, before we trip and fall”</span><br /><br /><br /> <span style="font-weight:bold;">“Lost Love”</span><br /> <br /> Ever loved someone so much that you wanted nothing more then for their world to become one with yours? Their whole existence becomes your mission to make better? To give all your worth to? When you love someone that much no matter how hard to try and fight it, or struggle against it you realize how dependent you are to them. There is a very thin line between partnership and possessive, yet when you can think with a clear head that line can become clear and visible. If you are lucky enough to find this treasure, this love hold on for all your worth, never over look the gift. Do not let the passion die, for a simple brush off only furthers the distance and strengthens the lack of communication. To watch the one you love slowly slip through your finger is like watching a nightmare unfold before your very eyes, the horror sequence being played out is the loss of your best friend, the loss of another soul mate. For when you bond with another, your lives become entwined.<br />'two minds one heart' <br />For if you let it slip away, you will live within the nightmare of “what ifs”, what if I had done this differently. What if I had said this instead of this. If you truly loved that person so deeply, so passionately you will never forget them, never forget their faces. No matter how hard you try and push the thoughts and those memories in the back of your mind, they will linger. They will bring you fleeting seconds of happiness and sadness.<br /><br />I remember reading somewhere “It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all”. For many years I questioned this, would I have never loved at all, then to suffer an eternal nightmare of a historic mistake or regret? Knowing it was my own fault for destroying the one thing in life that meant most to me? Or possibly their mistake or regret that to have walked out that door. <br />For the record no matter what anyone tells me I would not have gave it up for anything in the universe, I would have rather had just one second of knowing what true love felt like then never having felt what love actually means. <br /><br />You recognize this emotion, you know love when your heart skips a beat just because she would whisper into your ear that she loves you, or a sudden glance as she passes by, glancing up into her beautiful eyes and for a brief second know that she's only thinking about you and nothing else in this world.<br />I knew love when I could close my eyes and see an angel in the flesh, no wings or a golden halo but breathing and smiling and laughing. Even when a dark storm would pass over head, and the rain falls hard and yet you do not care your expensive outfit is getting ruined. You know love, when you know how to love yourself and realize that material objects are just trinkets and that life before you is eternal. Whether you believe in Religion or afterlife, this universe wastes nothing and memories are the true treasures of life. Moments of time caught within the film of life. You cannot buy love, yes you can buy happiness but not pure love, you cannot take it. Its earned and gained, given by the other, by your lover. <br /><br />When your thoughts always find their way to that person, When your dreams somehow reminds you of them. When you make it a personal goal to put a smile on their face, even if you feel the lowest on the earth. When destiny becomes a design of your own creation, Never forget that which is the power of passion, <br /><br />Even now as the snow slowly drops, I look out my widow and reflect on my past, all the mistakes, all the wonders and joys. I have loved, and I have lost and I still refuse to give in. I have stared into the abyss of solitude, stood toe to toe with temptation and gambled with the devil. I still tread on, walking the path in towards my garden, towards my once more mysterious goddess. When a universe is built on opposites, on attractions, There is someone out there for everyone, and while there will always be dark days and dark storms, for any committed relationship if your willing to extend your arm, and reach out. You will never have to walk that dark road alone, and just maybe they might have an umbrella with them.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">“Angels, What are angels? Are they higher beings, do they wear wings?<br />Do they wear a halo? I swear when I looked into your eyes I saw you glow”</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">“Rose”</span><br /><br />“To pick a leaf from my peddle <br />to make your day bright and settle,<br />The sun shines so bright and high<br />the sent from my rose shall never lie,<br /><br />Pick a leaf from my peddle<br />and give me to someone special<br />to brighten up their day<br />so when the words are at loss to say<br />they will bloom in the summer's light<br />like gold sparkling in winter's night.”DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-79868596151657010502010-02-08T08:58:00.000-08:002010-02-08T09:25:46.685-08:00Time Changes All<BR><BR><br /><center><em>"I watched as the icon fell,<br />during that solemn hour breathing felt like hell<br />helpless to stop the events in motion<br />hopeless to stop the surge of emotions<br />Screams of desperation, tears of separation<br />reaching out for an unfamiliar hand<br />offering hope to those who still can stand<br />grieving over such a loss, giving to all those who have lost"</em></center><br /><br /><br />There was once a time, when my passion for writing was so strong I could taste it in my mouth like salt. There was once a time I would have been the first to jump up in a crowded room where everyone else would idly sit on their hands. <br />I would fire up debates on how the Drug prohibition was unconstitutional, or the millions of people who are blinded by the fancy talk of our politicians yet to dumb or ignorant to actually watch what their political leaders would vote for or against. there was once a time when I would get disgusted at the amount of corruption seeping into our once great republic.<br /><br />I have often wrote about how it felt like I had lived more then one lifetime in this body, this mind. How day and night would mesh together into an ugly portrait of my life. The burdens we carry every day only seem to get heavier as we march on, and as each step we take towards that light at the end of this tunnel it only seems to keep going on for miles and miles.<br /><br /><br />Nothing in my life seems to make any sense anymore, headaches that last for days on end, stiff muscles make it hard to even move and all my mind can seem to focus on is of a future, a dream that sometimes feels like an impossible feat. I awake to the same four walls staring back at me and again I feel as though I'm trapped within a cage of desolation. I sit on the edge of my bed and put a smile on my face, not for me but rather for those who are around me. I can feel the once dreaded depression knocking just on the other side of my soul, feeding off the discontent. Everyday it becomes an even harder struggle to not scream, to not pull my hair from its roots, pleading with anyone who would listen to lighten this load. Yet I know my cries will go unheard.<br /><br />Giving up seems so easy, but I also know if I give up, not only will the misery take over but more than that, if I give up I let those who I care about most down. Some rock I turned out to be, hollow on the inside and cracked from the pressure. For the most part the strength I find to make it through the day ironically is found within the eyes of another. <br /><br /><br /><br />Where has my passion gone?<br /><br />Where is my path along this rocky road?<br /><br />Where is that garden full of flowers to brighten this day?<br /><br />and where has the time gone, to set all the wrongs right?<br /><BR><BR><BR>DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-23288039898227753912010-02-04T07:21:00.000-08:002010-02-04T08:11:26.987-08:00The Little Things We Over Look<div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;">"The Path to God is not found within a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">church</span>, </span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;">or through that cross you bare around your neck.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;">It is to be found within us all, </span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;">our souls are the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">conduit</span> to the unknown, The map to the stars."</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /><br /></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></strong></div><div align="left">You cannot turn on the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">television</span> without being <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">saturated</span> with death, or rather that of violence. As I watch I maybe catch a few minutes here and there of something decent, someone doing something good in this world yet no sooner does it end more of the violence more of the same. It is no wonder crime is up, its no wonder law <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">enforcement</span> is growing as well and without a growing economy people will become more and more desperate to put food on the table for their families and for themselves. With unemployment soaring, more housing foreclosures, and a government that continues to turn a deaf ear to the public outcries I can only foresee things getting worse, like any bubble that continues to expand there is a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">structural</span> limit the bubble cannot withstand. Soon that bubble will pop, The question is how bad are we going to let it get before we let some of that pressure out? and minimize that "pop".</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">I however digress, my rant here is not about what we all see happening, yet to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">afraid</span> to speak out against it. No my post here today is about the little things we often over look. Colors, Words, Gestures. The smiles from a passing stranger or even the smile of a good friend. In a time when the world seems to be falling apart, people have to turn to the little things to try and get by.<br /></div><div align="left"><em></em></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><em><br /></em></div><div align="center"><em>'When the Giant starts buckling. your small world becomes <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">insignificant</span>'</em></div><em><div align="left"><br /></div></em><div align="left"><em><br /></em></div><div align="left"><em></em></div><div align="left"><em></em></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Giving up seems easy to an impossible task. Where failure is no longer an option, No where to go and a harsh urban jungle whispers to you in your ears. Your children staring up at you, not even old enough to understand the true ramifications of you being laid off form your job. Sure you could draw unemployment, maybe last a month or two at best before you become <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">ridiculously</span> in dept. Your options like a watering hole in the desert are drying up and fast.</div><div align="left"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Trinkets</span> and lockets, become treasures. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Jewelry</span> that brings a smile to your face and a few seconds of happiness then later pawned to put bread on the table. Quietly you slide off to find you some peace where you try and relax knowing you have food for now. </div><div align="left"><br /><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">When you are bombarded day and night with nightmares and horrors, to escape becomes a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">luxury</span> only few find. Drugs legal or illegal often play a part, some find comfort with their thoughts, their memories. For they become a gallery of time frozen in place, and set in stone. Whatever their method of escape becomes, for a moment they find their center, their paradise. </div><div align="left">With so many people simply turning their heads, casting a blind eye to the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">cruelty</span> of this world all the misery will never subside. As the world continues to spin, and the desperation mounts it will become the little things in life that will give you the strength to continue on. To wake up the next morning with a smile on your face, for when you remember you <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">don't</span> have to walk this path alone all the time. It makes the fight that more <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">bearable</span>..<br /><br /><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></strong></div><div align="left"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></strong></div><div align="left"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></strong></div><div align="left"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></strong></div><div align="left"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></strong></div><div align="left"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></strong></div><div align="left"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></strong></div>DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-34754493699832523842010-01-15T21:23:00.000-08:002010-01-15T21:38:30.867-08:00Random Thoughts<span style="font-size:85%;">Every where I turn, my eyes focus into shades of gray. Law of attraction right? My own fault right? The most you squeeze your fist the faster it seems everything slips from your hands. Where is the sleep so <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">desperately</span> desired, shadows caught in the corner of your eyes, tricks of light and loud sounds echo through the brain.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I should already be done with one of my books, I should have already called the local book stores and asked for an appointment to see <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">about</span> getting them stocked on their shelves. Where is the desire behind the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">madness</span> that is this curse of failure, and the lost or forgotten muse.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">For the first time since I walked out those doors of the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">hospital</span>, I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">actually</span> thought of putting a gun to my head. Slowly pulling the hammer back and gently squeezing the trigger, yet I cannot stress this enough to my readers, it was not a suicidal thought, it was not a desire to kill myself or any of that. No it was the sensation, the feeling of the bullet slicing through my skull then into my brain. Yes depraved I know, but oddly the first time I've ever thought of such a thing without the intention of death as a result, (I am of course talking back when I was depressed and had a death wish).<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The only thing I can reasonably conclude form such a thought, would be to "feel" am I that withdrawn I crave such a powerful form a sensation? Am I that far down that I cannot see the path before me anymore?<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I wonder, even with these blogs. my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">writing</span> has eluded me, will it and can it even still help??</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span>DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-10703914122487324752010-01-06T02:05:00.000-08:002010-01-06T02:18:27.789-08:00Random maddness<br /><br /> <span style="font-size:85%;">Am I clinging onto an impossible dream? Where my storybook romance is played out where the two lived happily ever after? So many children stories depict almost impossible <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">scenarios</span>. Yet even now twenty seven years grown, I find myself desiring that ending, that 'perfect' sunset. I am tired of the stress, tired of trying to find <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">my place</span> in this universe. <br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">My only outlook now are these keys on this keyboard, the thoughts in my head and the dreams that accompany them. I struggle everyday with the realization that what I say is pointless to the millions of readers out there, that I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">in fact</span> a fraud when it comes to poetry and literature. <br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I feel as though my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">inspiration</span> has been stolen from my grasp, slipped through my fingers like sand. Words of passion that never burned as brightly as they did that day, washed away by the rising tide. I am a man stripped of his most valuable <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">possession</span>, and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">every time</span> I stand to dust myself off, something has to come by and knock me back down again. When I would write in my journal, I often spoke of knocking at depression's door. Could it have been that I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">grabbed</span> the handle and opened it a crack?<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">My Center has been invaded by <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">turbulent</span> emotions, raw desires, and passionate dreams and goals the weight of it all crushing down upon me and my only outlook for all the troubles is slowly starting to fade away....</span>DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-15687870547364923342010-01-05T02:06:00.000-08:002010-01-05T02:57:30.785-08:00My Last Tangent<div align="center"><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></strong></em></div><div align="center"><em><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></strong></em></div><div align="center"><em><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></strong></em></div><div align="center"><em><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></strong></em></div><div align="center"><em><strong><span style="font-size:78%;">"In the absence of hope breeds despair.<br />In the absence of love breeds distrust. </span></strong></em></div><div align="center"><em><strong><span style="font-size:78%;">In the absence of life, there becomes no reason for death."</span></strong></em> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><br /><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="left">I am finding it ironic that at the start of this new year, I am once again finding myself <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">in front</span> of this wall. 'writers block' not only does this wall stand even taller then I've ever noticed before. The smooth grainy layers of bricks seem to protrude sharp and slick needles. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Each</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">syringe</span> holding a toxin of pain, an addiction of temporary relief.</div><div align="left">So is this where my path has taken me? down a one road hillside ghost town, The only voices heard are of my own damnation? <br /></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">I have loved, I have hated, and I have sinned. I have even came close to giving up. Yet through it all 'hope' had never escaped me before, it shown a light through even the darkest of tunnels. Hope pulled me back from the brink many days when I thought all was lost, and that it could not have gotten any worse. It <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">taught</span> me to look forward instead of behind, and even though I was handed a lemon today, tomorrow there was a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">possibility</span> for a delicious strawberry with my name on it, ripe for the picking. Without hope, without faith. The desire to survive <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">diminishes</span> to the point you wish to just <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">surrender</span>, to the point you have no care left in the world, not for yourself and not for anyone else, even those you love and care for the most. <br /></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">I fell <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">in love</span> with a woman who I thought beyond all <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">comprehension</span> was my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">soulmate</span>, that rare gift this universe has to offer in my opinion. We are given this gift of life. Life is no more then moments of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">experience</span>, weather it is joy, or sorrow those moments and memories are what makes our lives, meaningful. A great man once said, even the best moments in your life could never equal that if you shared them with the person you loved.</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><br /><br /></div><div align="left">This mystery woman had filled my head with treasures not made of gold, but those of dreams, and goals. A <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">conduit</span> of hope. </div><div align="left">Then as quick as the snap of lightning, Those dreams shattered like stained glass. It had all been a lie, every fictional word I had hung onto with a gleam in my eye stolen from my very breath.</div><div align="left">Oddly enough, the news hit me harder on my creativity then it did my emotional state, I've suffered loss (a great deal of loss) before in the past. </div><div align="left">All of the work I put into not letting people inside my head, and somehow she slipped through and did the exact thing I would wish <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">upon</span> no one. Was it all a game to her? I'll never know and again at this point I do not really care.<br /></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">What has really effected me from this, were the bending and breaking of my own rules. The resentment for allowing someone to do that to me, I've never been one to wear my emotions on my sleeves, for they become a part of my writing, my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Inspiration</span>. My hope is fading....<br /></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Karma, </div><div align="left">You <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">receive</span> what you give. I have really been questioning this for awhile now. With so much negativity in the world it dwarfs the positive, Look closely and you can see it but blink and you will miss it. So much pain and suffering caused by thousands of people around the world, people getting rich off other's misery. Where is this Karma? Are we to believe that mystical forces out there will bring the corrupt to justice? You can scream until your blue in the face that a man is about to face the fire squad for doing no wrong, Yet they will still pull the trigger until someone steps in. <br /></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">I've decided to make this my last Tangent, due to many reasons really. I feel as though I've said just about all there is I need to say, half the time I feel as though I am a broken record repeating myself over and over again. Not to mention, my Tangents <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">weren't</span> really tangents they were rants about various things that my mind could conjure up. So in my final tangent I will list off a few random things.</div><div align="left"><br /><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">President Obama - Smart man, very well spoken. Yet a Puppet like the others, broken promises, follow the money and last but not least leading us into <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">fascist</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Communism<br /></span></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Health Care - total <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">disaster</span>, will destroy our economy even worse.<br /></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Marijuana - Legalize, Legalize, Legalize. I can give you a million reasons why it should and debunk all the negative <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">propaganda</span>.<br /></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Economy - Stop printing monopoly money and spending it like its highway robbery.<br /></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">That's</span> all I can think of right now. I may decide one day to come out with one more Tangent, but <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">don't</span> look forward to it, I've been doing a lot of soul searching and brainstorming about the direction I wish to go with my writing, I will try and keep everyone who reads this updated on that.</div>DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-47256096455435496692009-12-21T21:12:00.000-08:002009-12-21T21:14:20.550-08:00New Poem "The Art of War"<strong>The Art of War</strong><br />by: Matthew Wayne<br /><br />It is the art of war,<br />forgotten is what this fight is for<br />pale faces and decaying bodies<br />death and a bitter taste of disease<br />a lost soldier, a voice of a lost soul<br />where a broken man was tortured slow<br />family slain, an eternity of pain.<br /><br />The siege marches on, even if murder is wrong<br />It has become the art of war, A blood feud began decades before.<br />The bombs dropping, the violence never stopping<br />blood stains the hands of those who sin,<br />a religious icon in which to pray, hoping to win.<br /><br />Slaves are those who chose to submit,<br />who does not stand when told to sit<br />blindly following, who dares not to question<br />in a society where ignorance is an odd obsession<br />denials and lies, with deception morality dies.<br /><br />Yin and Yang, with another big bang<br />good and bad, within us all and under our command<br />when conflict knocks at the door,<br />there will always be the cruelty of war.DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-67048497700436621872009-12-04T14:30:00.001-08:002009-12-04T14:33:16.412-08:00Just An UpdateSince I am still stuck to using my old laptop (my harddrive failed on my desktop) my writing and updating has been a bit slowed. However the time it's given me to think on my future endevours has given me plenty of ideas. First I have been working on secureing a webpage, one place where my readers can go to get updates, blogposts. Everything and everything I would write about. Will also have links set up to where they can purchase my books. <br /><br />I have finally decided the direction inwhich I want to go in with my Fantasy book "The Legacy of Sky". It will be my first fictional published book, and those who order a copy of it and have read the chapters online will first notice a difference in the context and the flow. I have decided to leave the digital/online version the way it is, however the paper bound version will be re-edited as well as things added to it. The first major change of course will be the title, the digital/online version is known as "<em>The Legacy of Sky : The Fallen Angel Saga</em>" while the paper bound version will be titled "<em>Legacy of Sky : The Two Brothers</em>" <br /><br />Since I have been working on two books at the same time I've decided not to rush myself and push back the release date to at least the end of the year for the Fantasy book, and around the first of the year for my anthology. <br /><br />On an ending note, I want to wish everyone happy holidays and to be safe out there.DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-52992850848253735192009-11-08T02:12:00.000-08:002009-11-08T02:13:22.419-08:00A Free Man<span style="font-size:85%;"><b>A Free Man</b><br />By: Matthew Wayne<br /><br />Distrust truly floats atop a sea of snakes, everyone so locked in to themselves and what 'they' can obtain, their reality model, their universe. Observing a situation as if an outsider from the equation. Strip away the core, and you will see we are all part of the problem, part of the cause, and yet at the same time we are all part of very solution that can and will fix that problem. Everything and anything can be solved by looking within, rather then without. Metaphorically speaking we a creatures of habit, our brains get locked within a routine of mundane tasks. How often do you sit and observe without judgment? Without motive or emotion?<br />Its hard to get past the ego within ourselves. A wall of insecurities and insults, built for defense against even the strongest battering ram, as each stone is thrown to that wall it becomes stronger, after awhile you begin to believe that wall, that ego is who you are. A mask worn to hide the true ugliness of our sins, our thoughts. Even the most divine sins within their minds, thoughts not your own but thoughts you obtain none the less.<br /><br />We allow ourselves to drink in the champaign of ignorance, yet turn a blind eye to the injustice of even the most corrupted. Hypocrisy has became the law of the land while wolves in sheep skin heard the flocks of even the most devout. Words become hallow and meaningless if spoken with no value behind them, actions are at the root of what makes the hero.<br />As if I have woken into a nightmare, from a free man to a slave in a monetary mirage. Ink on paper to claim my soul for which I never bargained for. My children should I decide to bring another life into this small planet and ever chaotic universe would be born into this culture of slavery, by the debt of others. Where I ask is the freedom in that? The sheep and the asleep, do not understand how dire and destructive that is, for as a writer I truly fear for my freedom of speech, my right to what I have to say, to write. There will always be those who strive to censor what they fear, or what they hate. A bigot in their beliefs should be law, and not choice. We see this everyday and yet still the masses turn a blind eye, for it their universe has not been affected by the hypocrisy, or if it has barley makes a dent against their wall, their mask.<br /><br />I am a living testament, a divine creature, a human being. I breath and have a conscious, and I am self aware. With these I declare my sovereignty over any state who would try and suppress me, who would try and chain me back and keep me from reaching my full potential as a living breathing entity on this planet, and beyond. To breach this would be a deceleration of war for my very survival becomes the wager, I will bow before no king, I will bow before no queen and I will refuse to shake the hand of anyone who conspires against me. I am my own lord, my kingdom spanning from within to the vast unknown of the universe. I trade with all and willing, but never sign a document of allegiance, far to easy to get caught within a web of politics unnecessary for the betterment of oneself.<br /><br />The last breath I take will be with the knowledge I died free, helplessly watching men and women around me being chained to their system, their own beliefs attacking them from behind hopeless to stop it. Sacrificing their choices and their freedom, for a security blanket of mistrust. Huddled In the darkest corner of the room praying their number does not draw up next. I have often silently asked myself how society would go out, if they had the choice to stand up against the corruption, the violence, would they stand before the firing squad and grin knowing they die for an idea rather than a cause? For do not mistake one second that freedom is a choice, it is a reason, a means to an end, priceless and unique.<br /><br />For in this existence. This life, a self aware conscious being can only live in freedom, to be caged like an animal is humiliation and degradation on the highest levels of morality, and a sin against humanity. </span>DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-65301815426375688452009-10-28T00:17:00.000-07:002009-10-28T00:18:41.112-07:00Current Events<span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">This blogpost is more of a rant, than a tangent or sonnet. While I take a small break from working on my book, and still on vacation from writing any new sonnets I've decided to focus my more creative writing into a more dire and seriouse nature, Thats right Current Events of what is currently affecting us at the moment, my views and my thoughts on all of the recent topics that spring to mind. Health care, H1N1 Virus, and of course the ever disasterious war taking place in the middle east. However before I get into my views and such opinions I must warn you I may not be up-todate on all the recent press releases to some of the things I will be talking about, however most of it being my opinions the only thing I need to cross and check are the facts of the situtuation.<br /><br />But that will be a post at a later date, when I am not jet-lagging from some good medication, to try and tame my insomnia. I will keep you all posted on the progress of my book, for those few readers who are interested, I am also looking to expand my reader audiance, so please pass the word around!, as of right now I am resided to trying to survive off what little profit I make from my publications. considering I only have one book published, with the release of my second and hopefully a third not to long after that, I will be able to breath a sigh of relief.<br /><br />I am still also looking for any Artists willing to contribute some artwork to the book, if your interested in this you can get in touch with me by emailing me at <a href="mailto:waynecanning@hotmail.com">waynecanning@hotmail.com</a> with a subject like "Book Artwork" or something similar to that. Full credit will be given to all those who submit and get approved for publishing.<br /><br />I am also considering holding a small contest (if enough particapates enters) that the best winning cover design will recieve a free autographed copy of my new book. And discounts to those willing to pass the word along and bring in extra readers.<br /><br />Just an update,<br />The Dead Poet.</span>DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-62489064265318623552009-10-12T21:19:00.000-07:002009-10-12T21:21:30.873-07:00A Broken Man<span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>A Broken Man</strong><br />By: Matthew Wayne<br /><br /><br />Holding out a broken heart, from a broken man<br />beaten to the ground, crawling they took everything he had<br /><br />Tears stream down her porcelain face,<br />baring a broken wing, how quickly she fell from grace.<br /><br />The stars shine down upon us all,<br />each and everyone of us will eventually fall<br />It's about how you live, not in what you believe<br />It's about how you feel, and not the Illusion you perceive.<br />For if in winter and a flower will grow,<br />that in your darkest hour a light can be shown.<br /><br />Standing before the cliff, as the tides begin to shift<br />A broken man will stare into his own personal abyss<br />a purgatory, living testimony to his own horror story<br />reflections in a mirror, become witness to his own fear<br /><br />There is an Angel that waits, as she does her heart breaks<br />slowly she slips back into his dreams<br />A treasure, this broken man will always remember<br /><br /><br />~~( )~ Addendum ~( )~~<br /><br />“I saw an Angel today, she whispered in my ears telling me to pray<br />not to god, or to speak in tongues, but to take a breath and fill my lungs”<br /><br />Confused within a den of thieves,<br />When thoughts affect the reality we perceive<br />we allow others into our mind, their trickery to deceive.<br />Distrust floats upon a sea of snakes<br />serpents biting, all trying to get their take.<br /><br />“When a rose in winter, has never been as beautiful<br />In the dead of night with a full bloom, under the watchful eye of the moon<br />A rare chance, a once in a lifetime glance”<br /><br />Caught within a web of lies, the illustrious grand prize<br />I've lost more to my emotions, than any other preconceived notions<br />When I can still hear your voice in my ears, I still see the shadows of my fears.<br />A rational mind succumbed, to the whispers that my nerves have been numbed<br />Once thought to be lead by logic, now bound to the chaos of the current topic<br />So much pain and suffering has crossed my path, and when I look back I see the hills of my past<br /><br /></span><em><span style="font-size:85%;">“paranoid disillusions, hold contempt for mass confusion<br />trapped within a struggle of a deadly obsession,<br />confide within the devil of a morbid conversation.”</span> </em>DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-58679123146768747502009-10-09T14:35:00.000-07:002009-10-09T14:38:07.954-07:00The Mask Made of Glass 'Part 2'<span style="font-size:85%;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>The Mask Made of Glass</strong> (<span style="font-size:78%;">An Angel's Decent</span>)<br />By: Matthew Wayne<br /><br /><br />Oh hell, I thought to myself. On more than one occasion I sat pondering all the aspects of what was told to me hours or days before. A future I thought I could only reach in my dreams, but here I was being feed the very desires I sought so desperately. Simple wants, yet complexity in their nature to obtain. Most spend their lives chasing their dreams and often die before realizing them. Some give up before they are manifested real. The Universe is complex, It's pattern chaotic yet accurate. I have often questioned if I had fell in love with the idea of my angel, or was it truly a miracle I had found someone who fit me. Of course writing this now, in hindsight I should have known better. Yet blinded by the idea and the passion alone caused me to abandon all rationality towards the whole of the situation. I wanted to believe for one second that I had stumbled across my paradise, like a child lost in a hedge maze, finding the locked door that fits the key in their hand. Shambhala, My mythical utopia.<br /><br /><em>“Looking up from the depths of hell, I witnessed an Angel who fell<br />yet even with broken wings, through her lovely voice she still sings<br />Taking my hand she whispered in my ear, of a paradise oh so near.”</em><br /><br />Here I truly thought an Angel landed before me, whispers of far off places and fine satin sheets, liquid gold to the ears of the helpless. Passion engulfed my eyes, and before long I was lost in the fantasy that was my own undoing. So bad I wanted to believe it was real, and so I told myself it was. Played the game and by the house rules. My three kings were no match for slick eye's of the royal flush. So as I sat and watched them wrack up the winnings with a grin on their face and a nod from the pit dog, I cocked my head and shoot a sly smirk. That would be my que to leave.<br />Its all a game, a ride, Chance. The fate we make by the footsteps we take this moment, and its all a risk, from the very large to the very small. Was I wrong to play my hand? Took the ride? If what I knew then what I know now, would I have still went all in? I can tell you from personal opinion, that even if I were to have held back some chips, the ride would not have been as intense as it was. The faster your heart beats, the quicker the blood rushes. All chemicals, all endorphins. All rushing through you like a tidal wave.<br /><br /><em>“So many sacrifices made, in this quest for love,<br />from the pits of hell, I have watched an angel fly above</em>”<br /><br /><br />So, the main question I could ask myself here and now is, is it still possible and even practical to call her an Angel. On one hand what she had done to me there is no excuse for. Then on the other I cannot deny how I felt about her. So I will answer that question with a surprising yes, for a morbid sense of the reason I did and still do consider this succubus an Angel, If I never see her again I am sure there is another angel flying out there somewhere, over head. Just have to keep your head held high. Will I always love her? Again I will have to say a surprising yes to, I have been told on many occasions that I am a rather stranger person, but that is simply their mind's way of rationalizing me in my complexity.<br />So where ever my Angel has flown to, I wish her well in her journey and hope she gets to her destination. As for me I still have my eyes set to the horizon, and I see some good things coming my way, It will be a rocky path, but the adventure will be that much more interesting.<br /><br /><em>“And now I dance, A struggle for another chance<br />where salvation shall never be within my grasp<br />fighting a losing war, As my soul shall be claimed last”</em><br /></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><strong>(My Journal) -</strong> August 7,2009</span>DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-20630705952772601812009-10-08T13:22:00.000-07:002009-10-08T13:25:16.078-07:00The Mask Made of Glass<span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>The Mask Made of Glass (The Joker's Romance)</strong><br />By: Matthew Wayne<br />Blogger: http://damienhaze.blogspot.com<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>“I dig in deeper, as the stakes get bigger<br />the blood soaked stain, smile you hit a vein”</em><br /><br /><br />It's a shoot gun romance, The passion building within the endless dance. The tidal wave of mental euphoria, and I am the crazy one? The point of the matter is I am an adult and as such must take responsibility for my own actions, my own choices, and my own beliefs. I had conned myself into believing for once the Universe had granted me my one dream in life, a complexity of emotions and goals, desires and hopes. Had I earned this treasure trove of wealth? Most likely no, but do I deserve such paradise in my life? Most likely no. I have sinned like every other mortal man walking this earth, I recognize my demons and face them head on, strong willed I will climb to my feet. Face bloody and bruised ready for their next best shot at me. I am stubborn, hard headed, and damn it I will speak my mind. No matter how controversial the topic may be I will say what I have to say. We tip toe around other's feelings for the sake of not causing them mental anguish. Through the sting of an insult the truth is always far better than a lie. Which only serve to hold us back from growing spiritually and emotionally.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>“If this were to only be a dream, than I shall chose<br />to forever remain asleep. For in this dream there is no pain there is no sorrow,<br />for in this dream there is only that of bliss, and perfect tomorrow”</em><br /><strong>August 13, 2009 (my Journal)</strong><br /><br />A lot of things are for the most part best left unsaid, this being one of the cases. However I will add a simple statement on a certain subject. A man could live his entire life without finding a woman to spend his time with and be completely content, happy even, but when you find that one you can connect to on all levels of the aspect in question. You not only find a living dream but one could only describe as soul mate, and I do not use that term light, for to me in my opinion, soul mate has no religious ties, a connection with another person physically and mentally changes the equation. Procreation is one of our more primal natural instincts we possess. Yet we have adapted and evolved with such powerful and influential emotions, lust, desire, love, hate, rage. To make us mortal we give into these urges and feelings, not to say they are all bad. But to allow them to over power your sense of logic, rationality. That is the weakness of our mortality, yet like yin and yang they can empower us to great feats. Physically and mentally.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>“To the river bed, to wash your hands that are stained red.<br />To the mouth of hell, where your soul is for sale.<br />Witness to the rider upon the horse thats pale.<br />Fall to your knees and cower and fear, where chaos becomes all you hear<br />your apocalypse has arrived, casting shame to your egotistical price.”</em><br /><br />The Joker's game, riddle me this. What goes on in the minds of someone who uses another? What advantages do they have to gain by playing on another's emotions? If you were thinking to make themselves feel better, the chances is you are right. Yet without their side of the story thats a question will will only go to their graves. The word love is tossed around without so much as a care in the world, It truly has lost any meaning behind the value of that once sacred word. Its weight in currency is being used to barter for sex, or material possessions. Rolling from the emotionless tongue of the speaker. There was once a day when someone spoke that word, it truly meant something. Where a marriage lasted longer than the honeymoon, and a devotion to see their spouse smile every chance they got. That spark of passion dies down, or becomes lost. Bitterness and resentment settles in slowly eating away at the relationship from the inside. The little things that first attracted the two together soon becomes the little annoyances that pushes you farther apart. Boredom plays a big role in the advancement of this disease as well. Romance is then treated as a Conquest.<br /><br />It is hard at times to believe there is anyone out there, that could fit so well with even those who do not fit in with themselves. Your flaws turn to their adornments. Yet still have that desire every morning to keep that spark in their eyes from ever dieing down, the romance burning deep for the two knowing deep in the back of your mind without so much as a shadow of a doubt that, that person next to you is the one you will spend the rest of your life with. A rare find in the society of today, Stars in the heavens explode more times than people find this type of connection with another. Lust is often the joker's wild card during this experience.</span>DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-15787977560404405982009-10-07T03:27:00.000-07:002009-10-07T03:45:43.701-07:00Buy My Book<img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 172px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 506px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y293/DamienNosferatu/LTCover.jpg" /><span style="font-size:85%;"><b>Only $10.00 Order Online</b></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong></strong><a href="https://www.createspace.com/3390099"><span style="font-size:78%;">https://www.createspace.com/3390099</span> </a><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">or at </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/"><span style="font-size:78%;">www.amazon.com</span></a></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><strong>Chest Ten</strong><br /><em>“A composition of Pain”</em><br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><em>“I am tired of waiting for my chance,<br />my one shoot at a chance for romance<br />I can still remember what it felt like”</em><br />-<br /><em>“A Tragic Love Song “</em><br /><br />'I saw the fields of green<br />that once manifested in my dream<br />the gold sparkles casted toward the sea<br />thrown to the wind on a gentle breeze<br />I could see the world in your eyes<br />a heaven meant for the skies<br />I never thought it could be true<br />I never imagined it would be you<br /><br />Take my hand and hear my voice<br />trust my words and see my choice<br />for what I write will remain timeless<br />and my words of love, bound to this<br />through all the chaos of reality<br />I look in your eyes and see<br />a sense of peace you bring me<br /><br />I'm a fallen Angel, with a broken wing<br />it's not hard to forget, that you're innocent<br /><br /></span>DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-31122886813672385502009-09-16T16:05:00.000-07:002009-09-16T16:06:03.892-07:00My Love is yours<strong>My Love is Yours</strong><br /><br /> Where has all the years gone? Condensed into a single hazy second played out in the theater of my mind. Strange voices wash over my thoughts, Tonight all the memories shall dine at a banquet where there will be no meaning of time.<br /><br />Our love was damned and forbidden<br />Coming from a society more fucked than I,<br />I'll show them all how much I am committed<br />My love is yours, until the day I die.<br /><br />I will travel the four corners of the globe,<br />I will endure the wrath of all nine hells.<br />Now tormented at the thought of ever being alone,<br />closing my eyes, I just want to be held.<br /><br />I thought it was too good to be true,<br />that it was all just a dream and nothing more.<br />Until I wake up next to you,<br />my dreams shall remain just a fabled lore<br /><br />I have danced with Angels, and I have danced with Devils<br />Looked into heavens eyes, getting lost within paradise.<br />Fallen from grace, and paid a high price<br />left hidden meanings within my sonnets<br />and watched as the Angels ran with the comets.<br /><br />Am I your savior? Or are you mine?<br />With you I lose all track of the time<br />and with you all my demons cower,<br />instilling a new sense of power<br />I am able to stand, even as the ground shakes below<br />In troubled times, my feet simply just go<br />I follow my heart, even when my mind does not know where to start<br /><br />Standing in the rain, my head held high<br />Even as the world collapses around me<br />My love is yours, until the day I die<br />through the thick clouds I can still see<br /><br />The chase begins as I stalk my muse<br />As hope begins to sparkle in her eye,<br />I will never play by anyone's rules, I simply refuse<br />For my love is yours, until the day I die.<br /><br /> There is a pattern to this chaotic universe, hidden within the spaces we cannot see, hidden from our own mortal flaws, perfection is not found with god, but rather within our own very minds, our consciousness, and anywhere we perceive as reality.DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-71852473825184709082009-09-09T00:12:00.000-07:002009-09-09T00:18:21.855-07:00okay, I was litterally coerced into posting this ahead of time, but the person responsible can pray their lucky stars that through my double vision, they and only they could get away with such a request and still get a smile from me with no bitterness residing within.<br /><br />okay I might as well give a little update along with this post, Most of my friends and close family are aware of my big step (moving up to LA) temporary. I am pretty stoked about this, Leaving Thursday. Will be moving in with my gf until we can get moved back down here the first of next year, while I am up there I will get me a better laptop, and most likely a desktop for her to use as well, the talented little minx. I plan on diving head first once up there, and start to work on my two new books in publication, and possibly a third! so exciting and fast times are coming up.<br /><br /> <br /><br /><strong>My Redemption</strong><br /><em>By: Matthew Wayne</em><br />http://damienhaze.blogspot.com<br /><br /><br /><br />I have climbed from my hell<br />picked the lock on my prison cell<br />I have taken flight, Traversed the stars and space<br />followed my dreams, followed my heart and gave chase.<br />Closed my eyes and took that leap of faith<br /><br /><em>“It all seems so surreal,<br />a dream for once I can almost feel<br />I see an Angel, and touch a heaven<br />I am a mortal man damned to sin<br />with a glimpse of paradise I give in”</em><br /><br />Years of mental stress fade,<br />there was once a time when I wanted an early grave<br />once a time when I thought my soul could not be saved<br />Is this my redemption?<br />Where the universe is offering me salvation?<br />I can see a future bright beyond the horizon<br />the past behind me with the setting of the son<br />the mental anguish lost and on the run<br /><br /><em>“An angel who fell to earth in a single glance<br />put her love unto me by the luck of chance<br />gave her my heart, in hopes of obtaining redemption<br />the taste of her lips, sent me into temptation<br />my wall collapsed, and my will gave in<br />for I have fallen in love all over again.”</em>DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-60482970511035621742009-08-25T16:14:00.000-07:002009-08-25T16:23:56.812-07:00Much needed Downtime<br><br />Okay since the crash of my desktop computer, and the lack of funds to get it fixed at this moment of time. I've decided to take a break from "releaseing" any new Sonnets or Tangents (unless they are just really too good to pass up). Since using my laptop makes me feel like I've stepped back into the stone age, my Online time will be limited to either just surfing or writing. I will probably try and at least tweak my, myspace page and this blog. But if not here is a plug for my book<br /><br><br />https://www.createspace.com/3390099<br /><a href="https://www.createspace.com/3390099" target="_blank"><img src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y293/DamienNosferatu/LTCover.jpg" border="0" alt="LT Cover"></a><br /><br />So for the next few months, until I get my computer back up and running I'm 'inclinded' to take a much needed break, a vacation as it were.DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-2342487804782335302009-08-23T22:01:00.000-07:002009-08-23T22:02:38.065-07:00Knives Vauldraie - Chapter Four 'Preview'::Note: This contains Graphics Content, Mature Readers only!!:: <br />(this is probably the darkest piece I've written in awhile)<br /><br /><strong>Chapter Four</strong><br /><br /><br />Vauldraie's hand slowly traced along the various object laid out on the vanity desk, his hand stopped on a small rectangular box, taking great care he slowly opened it to reveal a silver letter opener, a gift form one of his many servants long time ago. He could hear fewer and fewer screams coming from the courtyard, no doubt those creature's of the night were feasting upon his own family, and friends that he has known most his life. Yet as he slowly slid the letter opener under the sleeve of his shirt, his mind simply shrugged off that thought, as if it were a life time ago. His eyes slowly trailed across the room to where the little girl lay dead, her pale complexion told the horrible truth to what he has now became. <br />Making his way over towards the large bed he looked down at his now deceased father, yet no emotions or feelings escaped him, He knew she should feel remorse, anger. But none of those emotions were there instead an emptiness. His ears quickly honed towards the sound of boots once again clicking down the hall, It was Lilith. Not even in the same room he felt her presence, some kind of link. He knew she was satisfied with her 'conquest'. It felt as if her mood were being projected into his very thoughts. <br /><br /><br />As the door slowly opened, Lilith walked in to see Vauldraie laying in the bed where she had left him, this time however his back was propped against the wooden headboard of the bed, in his hands he slowly twirled about his father's crown, as he slowly looked up towards her. <br /><br /><br />“you are awake” She spoke as she slowly sauntered her way towards the foot of the bed, taking a quick glance towards the corner where the dead little girl lay. “and I see my boy was thirsty as well”<br /><br /><br />Vauldraie simply tossed the crown to the side as it hit the dresser falling towards the ground as he softly spoke “Not nearly enough to quench this thirst” He watched as Lilith slowly turned her head towards him, and smiled. As she slowly climbed onto the bed, taking great care placing a leg on each side of him. “Lucky you my love, I just had a big meal” She spoke with a grin as she climbed closer, sitting up making sure she felt him grind her waist hard against her in some sexual perversion as she took her finger, the nail slowly grew growing sharp as she gently slid it against the wrist of her left hand. The warm blood quickly became pouring from the open wound as she lowered her hand to the eagerly awaiting mouth of Vauldraie, as he drank her blood, his eye's quickly began turning bloodshot, as he felt the surge of power wash through his vanes. He did not want to stop, for each drop shared with him a bit of her own knowledge, through visions and clues and scrambled thoughts. She finally screamed and pushed Vauldraie hard from her wrist as he fell against the headboard, She let out a gentle moan as if almost the ecstasy of the moment over whelmed her, her breath was shallow and light. Vauldraie simply looked up at her, her blood gently trailing down his lips as his fangs were still visible. “Why” his voice stern and demanding as she slowly looked down at him questioningly but before another second could pass, Vauldraie reached into his sleeve pulling out the letter opener and in an blur his hand sliced the jugular vane of her throat. <br />Lilith's eye's quickly widened when she realized what has just happened, she tired to scream but no sound came out, and when she tried to move she realized Vauldraie had his hands firmly secured to her hips, as he sat there not even a smile came across his face, as if he were empty and hallow. She watched as her hands moved to her throat trying to prevent as much blood loss as she could, yet they both knew it would do no good as gush after gush splashed against Vauldraie, landing everywhere she would twist and turn. It did not take long before she finally collapsed. Her lifeless body fell gracefully on top of Vauldraie as he just laid there, trying to make sense of the whole situation, what he had just done, what had happened to him. It was the oddest sensation however, her death was not out of vengeance like he had hoped, instead he felt an even darker pleasure arrive from such an action.<br /><br /><br />Taking his arm he simply rolled her over on the other side of him, now laying between his father and his new born mother, Both now dead, and no remorse or guilt fell over this damned creature. Slowly he got up walking over towards the chair, he reached down picking up the little girl. Gently laying on on the bed with the others. Stopping only long enough to make an apology to the dead child. Turning his attention towards the room he quickly went about gathering several kerosene lanterns, before stopping at the foot of the bed, Turning towards the wooden door's he started to walk towards them, tossing the lanterns onto the bed, the glass breaking as they hit against each other once making contact on the bed, it did not take long before the entire bed and half the ceiling was burning.DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-12929373800414975402009-08-23T10:00:00.000-07:002009-08-23T10:13:13.434-07:00okay Feed back time<strong>Update</strong>:Since I've got so much on my plate here recently, cyber and real life. It's getting harder for me to try and manage 2 Blogs, 5 different Social networks all in the name of "spreading" my Literature around. So I am considering this my spring cleaing of sorts.<br /><br />Blogger.com (that's this one happens to be my favorite. yet I get the feel I do not get near as much traffic here as I do on my Myspace blog)<br /><br />So I need some feed back for those subscribers, and those Lurkers. On what would be the best option for me at this moment in my life...<br /><br /><br />(<em>New Fantasy Story Concept - Feed back as always accepted</em>)<br /><br /><em>:::WARNING - Graphic Content, View descresion is advice, haha sorry gotta cover my own butt:::</em><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><strong>Knives Vauldraie</strong><br />By: Matthew Wayne<br /><br /><br />Explosions could be hard ringing, vibrating through the stone walls of the high tower. Standing before an open arched window stood a young beautiful woman, her long silky red hair flowed down to her mid back, yet tied down with a darker red bow. The sounds of steel on steel could be heard from down below as she watched the war wage on in the court yard. Wars and battles were nothing rare in this day and age when nobles and lords would fight for land or worse, resources and it was no surprise that when wars would ensure it would always bring out the worst of all creatures, as the lifeless corpse of a young hand maiden fell from the strange womans arms, her body falling hard to floor, her frozen eyes spoke of the last horror she saw as two puncture wounds poured the last drops of blood from her body.<br /><br />The large wooden door swung open as a man slowly walked, his long black hair flowing freely as he walked dragging in a little girl bound and gagged. As he slid her across the floor behind the strange woman, he smiled at the sight of the dead hand maiden, he was of average size and build yet it was both their attires that seemed to be out of place for a place such as this, each wore black satin or silk garments, his happened to be a suit while hers hinted more towards a low cut, skin tight dress, a slit going up the side of her thigh made it easy for her to move about, long laced up boots barley touched her knees as she slowly turned around, kneeling down before the little child. Running a long red fingernail against her cheek, which was quickly followed by a trail of fresh blood<br /><br />The man smiled as he looked down at his handy work, the woman's soft voice broke through the quite cries of the little girl. “You always find me the nicest toy's my dear Vincent” A smile escaped his mouth, bearing his razor sharp fangs as he replied “Anything for my love, my Queen. Lilith”. Yet before he could finish saying her name she dove in, fast and quick savoring every drop of that innocent blood. It was not long before she stood back to her feet, gently taking her arm wiping the few drops from her rosy red lips, that stood out against her fair pale flawless skin. <br /><br />Turning around she once again walked towards the window, again looking down at the chaos below her, her clan as devious as they were played for both sides, a game Lilith had thought them, better for the hunt, the thrill and excitement. Yet as she watched she spotted one character she had not accounted for, Moments ago she counted it as luck as the man below in the court yard severed the head of one of her children, but now as she watched surrounded by two of her best hunters, was not only holding them at bay, but landing some serious blows. Lilith smirked knowing his fate had been sealed, as she Turned back towards Vincent who was busy admiring the art on the walls of the Lord's chamber. <br /><br /><br />“Find me another young one” She spoke gently, but stern enough to catch the attention of Vincent as he turned to look, nodding his head in agreement, he was suddenly taken back by the odd expression that quickly formed over Lilith's face, a face he had never seen before, yet before he could speak she had turned her head back towards the window and looked on with confusion as what her senses had told her was true, The stranger had managed to kill the two hunters he was fighting against, and was now engaging another one of her minions. <br /><br /><br />“Forget that, instead bring me that man down there” she pointed and in a split second Vincent was to her side looking down towards the stranger she was making out. He nodded his hand then slowly turned and walked towards the wooden down, before speaking “Are you sure you do not want both?”<br /><br />Even the loss of her two best hunters Lilith could not help but smile at the kindness her pet was showing her, and she spoke in a soft voice “Yes, bring me both”<br /><br />With that Vincent slowly disappeared out the large wooden door, to fetch the strangers and another child for his Mistress..<br /><br /><br /><br /><strong>Chapter Two</strong><br /><br /><br />The sound of his metal leggings could be heard slamming to the floor as two large brutes stood to each side of the stranger. What he could not see due to a large grain sack covering his face his other sense of smell could pick up, the room was full it. The slightest hint of metallic taste lingered in the air. As the stranger felt a hand on the back of his head pulling the sack from it he heard the voice of an angelic woman.<br /><br />“Tell me 'Slayer', how was it that you knew I would be here?” As the man's vision slowly came back into focus he slowly looked about, what he saw almost caused his stomach to turn, the large bedroom chamber was filled with dead bodies, mostly that of young women and men, his ears caught the sound of a mumbled cry as his head slowly turned to his right to see another little child gagged and hog tied laying on the bed next to another corpse. Yet this corpse was no common man, he was once the lord of the manner, now dead and resting. His crown still upon his head. <br /><br />“The Mistress asked you a question!” an irate Vincent who was standing behind the two large brutes marched forward his hand reared back ready to make contact against the stranger's face, but before he could even swing his arm, Lilith's soothing voice broke the air<br /><br />“Stop” and in that one command froze Vincent's advancement, he stood there his head slowly turning towards the beautiful vixen. <br /><br />“I was wrong.” She slowly went on to say as she turned towards the window one more, a smile forming over her face as she relished in the chaos down below. “He is not a Slayer, just a human.” Vincent turned his head, his black eyes piercing into the light green pupils of the strangers. Who was simply looking up at him, what sent Vincent through a loop however was his total lack of fear, this 'human' in which he despises was showing any lack of fear, as if he was ready to die.<br /><br />Vincent slowly turned his head back towards Lilith who was now facing the group, the smile was gone but the gentle sparkle in her eye still remained. “Leave us my dear Vincent, I wish to sit with this human and speak of softer issues”<br /><br />Vincent's right upper lip slowly curled up showing a hint of anger before straightening himself out, standing once more, he turned his head towards Lilith and bow his head showing signs of respect before choking out the words “yes my Mistress” Snapping his body towards the door and briskly walked out the wooden doors.<br /><br />Lilith gracefully walked towards the stranger who was kneeling in front of her, his hands bound behind him the ropes so tight, causing them to dig into his skin. His light green eyes stared up into those of Lilith's crimson red pupils. “Don't mind him, he hates humans with a passion greater than my own”. She mused. Stopping a few feet short of him she slowly reached down picking him up by the collar of his thick leather vest, picking him to his feet. “You, who are seconds from death. Show know fear?” Before he could respond she turned and threw him to the bed landing beside the little girl who was crying and trying to scream. <br /><br />Lilith slowly mounted the stranger, crawling up past his legs until she sat upon her lap. He was pinned. She could feel him trying to fight but with his hand bound behind him, he lacked any real leverage to throw her from his body. His helpless struggles only caused a slight amusement from the creature. Then finally the man spoke, his voice harsh and ragged from the many long hours of screaming from the war zone below them. “Just kill me and the girl already, Why make her suffer!” The anger showing through to his words. Lilith chuckled as she slowly leaned in, her tight leather bodice pressing against his leather vest as she whispered into his ears “oh my love, it's not her who is going to suffer” His eyes suddenly moved honed in towards Lilith's eyes who now was grinning, her sharp fangs baring all her vileness, as she wasted no timing leaning in for the bite.<br /><br />His scream could be heard from down the hall even through the chaos of the bloodshed, His eyes were widened. As he felt his entire body slowly begin to tingle, his breathing becoming more shallow. Fainted images slowly passed through his line of sight, the longer she fed the hard it was becoming to catch air, the more light headed he became. Then she stopped, as quickly as those sensations fell upon him, the blood quickly rushed back towards his head. Before he could even come to his senses he felt warm drops of liquid touch his lips, it wasn't long before he made out the bitter taste of the metallic substance, slowly his eyes focus up and saw Lilith smiling down below him, holding out her arm, her wrist was cut as he watch drop after drop flow from her wrist, straight into his mouth. He wanted to resist at first but as each drop mixed with his own natural saliva, the taste changed. No longer bitter, but almost sweet. It had reminded him of when he was but a boy and would run off into the garden, picking a fresh strawberry. He could not take it any longer as he quickly sat up, and without resistance from Lilith she allowed his eagerly awaiting lips to meet her wrist, as he bit down, sucking, savoring every drop, the more he tasted the sweeter it became, a true nectar for the taste buds. <br /><br /><br /><strong>Chapter Three</strong><br /><br /><br />The dreams were more like flashes, images of his past. The physical pain manifested itself into mental distress within his mind as Vauldraie would relive most of memories, the good and the bad. A son to a nobleman he was privileged, yet this did not stop him from his responsibilities. He knew he lived in troubling times, greed was abundant in these lands, Kings taxes drove noblemen to fight for more land, or resources. So Vauldraie would spend a lot of his time training his soldier's how to defend themselves, few would dare to actually attack his father's village. For their generous reputation gained them many allies. Yet like any empire of greed, their village sat upon a gold mine, rich with minerals and gems. Making them an easy target to many power hungry nations. Suddenly those images turned violent, horrifying. Dead bodies laying everywhere, men, women, and children. Bloody mangled and shredded. Vauldraie rose from the bed in a violent scream, his head tilted back as every dead body within miles of his presence plagued his mind in an instant. All at once they crept into his head filling them with the horrors of their death. As quickly as they came, they had vanished. Replaced by a sudden hunger, a craving. His mind kept recoiling at the thought of the taste of strawberries. Catching himself licking his lips at just the thought of that. Then his mind wandered to his body, he felt stronger, aches and pain that he would normally feel through his muscles were no longer there, surly the cut on his arm he had received in the battle earlier would be stinging him, yet when he went to check his arm there was no scratch, no blood not even so much as a hint of damage. <br /><br />That is when it had hit him, the images of the woman they called Lilith straddling his waist pinning him to the bed, biting into his neck. His hand quickly went to his neck the spot where she had punctured his skin, but to his surprise there was not marks, not wounds. His tongue rang along the curves of his teeth, yet they were normal. His canine teeth were not protruding like hers or the others. <br /><br />Looking around the room he had realized he was alone, slowly he crawled from the large bed, his body weak. As if drained of energy, he slowly staggered towards the window. Looking down he could see the battle slowly coming to an end, he was relieved to see it was his men, that were pushing back that onslaught of invaders. Gently using the stone archway as a crutch he slowly turned around only in time to hear a voice from behind the closed wooden doors, he remembered her voice all to well.<br /><br />“I want you two to watch this door. My love shall need a few hours to rest, I will return when I help clear this village of its vermin.” With that he heard the sound of her boots walking down the hall until he could no longer make out the clicking sound.<br /><br />Vauldraie, still weak and light headed could barley stand as his legs slowly gave way causing him to slide down the stone wall, his head slowly and heavily looked about the room once more, but stopped when they spotted the little girl still bound and gaged in the corner of the room passed out on a wide spread chair. He could hear her faint heart beating even across the room, even through the thick of war blaring below him out the window. His eyes focusing in on her skin, a protruding vain running down her little neck. Vauldraie shook his head violently, trying to distract his thoughts, but every time his mind would slowly wander back to that taste of strawberries, the smooth warm liquid, His tongue brushed against the now razor sharp canine within his mouth. His mind reared in the millions of thoughts coursing through his head, “What kind of monster had they turned him into?” Yet even now looking at the helpless girl laying in the chair he felt no remorse for her, He knew the thoughts were wrong, He even knew who the girl was, her mother was one of their cooks, and yet the taste in his mouth craved her blood, slowly he crawled over to the girl, just inches from her sleeping body. <br /><br />Reaching out he stopped only long enough to observe his hand, a fair light pale complexion, yet it was his nails that had thrown him off, sharp yet strong. Slowly placing his hand on the shoulder of the little girl he gently rolled her over. Her ordeal had stressed her to the point of passing out as she laid there peacefully, softly breathing. <br /><br />Vincent looked down at the little girl as his mind went crazy, with lust, desire, and most of all hate. “What have I done to deserve to be damned? Cursed from heaven, rejected from hell. What sins I must now bare”. His razor sharp teeth sank deep into the soft skin of the little girl before he even realized what he had done. So gentle he had not even woke the girl, who simply will pass within her slumber.DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-47890964569072472972009-08-22T00:15:00.000-07:002009-08-22T00:30:19.600-07:00An Angel<br><br /><strong>An Angel</strong><br />By: Matthew Wayne<br /><br /><br /> I thought I had seen my last rose bloom<br />forever trapped and locked within this desolate tomb.<br />So many thoughts cross my mind, So many are for you<br />treasure's locked within only a whisper of a clue<br />a mending heart, stitches visibly clear<br />but with gentle hands, you ease the fear<br /><br /><em>“I have forgotten, all the precious seconds<br />I have forgotten, all the gentle sensations<br />could you ever love a demon and all his sins?<br />A broken man who has all but given in?”</em><br /><br />I thought I had seen my last Angel<br />I thought I had even sold my soul<br />but when I close my eyes I get lost in your voice<br />and my eyes locked within yours I'm lost within a void<br /><br />I would part the sea, if it meant I could obtain even a key,<br />a piece of your heart, Valley's I would part<br />to see you smiles, I would crawl from the depths of hell<br />my love for you drives me to excel, yet its the loyalty, honesty,<br />and the love I am receiving, that leaves me speechless and dreaming.DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-54287988131027673552009-08-16T11:36:00.000-07:002009-08-16T11:54:28.212-07:00My Interview with Sug!<Br>A good friend of mine, decided to do a interview with me on my recent publication :) I of course needing all the publicity I can get agreed to do it, plus she's a friend and its hard for me to say no lol. So here without any further waiting, my interview.<br /><br><br /><Br><br /><a href="http://sugarcoated-chaos.blogspot.com/">Taken From Sug's blog</a><br /><br />Hola everyone! I am doing a special interview with one of my good buddies Matthew Wayne of Texas. I have known him forever and a day and was very happy to hear of his first book being published. He was kind enough to send me a copy for me to read and it is excellent. I am looking forward to his fantasy novel that is in progress. I also would like to share him with all of you as well in hopes that you will pick up your own copy of his first book. Now lets get this interview started.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1Q609WtXNeE/SohHS9xciJI/AAAAAAAAAR0/QNOnOY2rQAg/s1600-h/interviewpic1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 311px; height: 355px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1Q609WtXNeE/SohHS9xciJI/AAAAAAAAAR0/QNOnOY2rQAg/s400/interviewpic1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370620946784487570" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">First of all tell us a little bit about yourself?</span><br /><br />Hm, these types of questions has always been hard to answer. Lets see I was born in Utah, and was moved to Texas when I was still just a child. I am 26, have been writing since I was probably around 15, and even then my controversial style always seemed to either get me in trouble, or cause heads to turn.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">How did the idea of your book come to be?</span><br /><br />Over the years of writing I noticed I wouldn't throw any of my literature away, even if they were only one sentence long. Couldn't bring myself to part with them even though they were not complete Sonnet's they still came from a part of my soul. So one day an idea came to me to compile them all together and make a book, out of my incomplete quotes, poems, literature.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">What inspired you to get your first book published?</span><br /><br />Mainly to know that I had done it. Then it would have to be for you, and anyone else who wishes to read what I have to offer. Most dead poets would tell you it was never for the fame, or the money as everyone knows most died in poverty. No, my inspiration for getting my first book published was so that I could look back and know I left a mark, whether big or small an imprint into our culture and now history.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Will there be more writings and publications in the future?</span><br /><br />Oh yes, a few more in fact. Currently in the works is a Fantasy/Fictional book "The Legacy of Sky" and another poetry/Literature book that will showcase all of my completed Sonnets, and Tangents.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Could you give us a verse from one of your poems and describe to us what inspired it?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">From my Book?</span><br /><br />One of my absolute favorites found within the book is located in chest five.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"Can you reach your dreams? or touch your god?<br />a ghostly visage, a desert mirage.<br />offspring of knowledge<br />sons and daughters of the white coat sage"<br /></span><br /><br />This passage has always been easy for me to remember what the inspiration was and still is. In the age of Science we seem to still cling to childish fairytale, like the child's tooth fairy we still grasp for the illusions. Whether its a single tangible god or wishes made by tossing a penny into the fountain, We have truly as a spices fallen from understanding of how this universe behaves, and we have forgotten knowledge that even our ancestors are teaching us today, We are the white coat sages.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">And finally,How do we go about in getting our hands on a copy of your book?</span><br /><br />Thank you for inquiring! :) simple really.<br />You can order them online at either Amazon.com or by going here.<br /><a href="https://www.createspace.com/3390099">https://www.createspace.com/3390099</a><br />The online price is currently set to $12.50 this is to help cover the publisher's cost. However if you wish to get a copy for only $10 simply email me at waynecanning@hotmail.com, with the subject line of <span style="font-weight:bold;">"Book Order"</span> with your shipping address, and your method of payment. however cannot take credit cards at the moment.<br /><br />Thank you, and hope you all enjoy the read.DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6201314090853911811.post-7811636505714840302009-08-15T00:58:00.000-07:002009-08-15T01:30:13.167-07:00Where is my beautiful Sonnet?<br><br /><br /> Okay, as most of you all are aware my computer has died on me the other night, I have yet to crack her open and check her guts and see what all I will want to replace. So this has caused a little damper to my online time as I am now forced to use my very slow laptop. Yet still thankful for it for without it I would not be getting into cyber land for sometime.<br /> I have also ordered more copies of my book, for those who are interested in one, just email me or leave your contact information here, ordering through me will knock off a few dollars. ($10) compared to the ($12.50) ordering online, the only problem however is I cannot take credit cards, just money orders, checks and will even take cash though to be honest if got gold I'll even work with you there, you know with the economy tanking like it is haha.<br />I make light of a very serious issue, yet I cannot seem to grasp hold of any tangible words or phrases, everywhere I turn or look I am faced with a muse, a creative inclination of desire. However the words to express what my thoughts are imprinting into my mind escape me, hidden, or possibly covered up by the distraction of another. I have been facing quite a fury here the last couple of weeks, thoughts and emotions weaving and twisting leaving me speechless and breathless at the same time., For three weeks now my mind has been locked on a single tangent, “Out of tragedy spawns beauty”<br /><br />My mind feels like its been sized up, frozen in a single moment, and yet even now I can feel the sublte hint of a migraine fast approaching. The more I try and focus on creating any type of sonnet my mind creeps that much closer to the pain. Being distracted however can have its many benefits, where as you lack any creative flow for awhile, you have the constant reminder of release, and forgotten temporary of course but depending on how long the distraction is depends on how long the suffering stays at bay. <br /><br /> This is my first blog post in quite some time, but at least its an update. Maybe one day I will be able to share, what has been a roller coaster of a ride for these few weeks, and from the looks of things, and the tides ahead its only going to get that much more interesting.....DamienHazehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01275187756806785932noreply@blogger.com0