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JakeFurlong on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/jakefurlong/art/Jaiyden-Furlong-189999504JakeFurlong

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Literature

In Love With You

Your untamed soft hands touch me in ways I always crave for, Tease me in sweet ways I could never prepare for, Hold me in between like I am the only one, And always distract me unexpectedly when we kiss. I can feel your love in the movement of your lips, A total warm pleasantness as you cling to me. And maybe a small part of my mind actually registers the surprise, As your warm hands reach curiously for more. In sweetness your love blinds me, In my heart your love completes me, Come tomorrow I hope you'll still crave me, And oh, I think I'm in love with you, completely.

Literature

Regret?

Everyone writes about broken dreams, whether love is worth the pain, the crushed dreams of yesterday and chipped hearts incomplete. Everyone writes out of insecurities of the beautiful that brings us anguish of a heartful. I believe that the more negative things we spread in this world, the darker this world will become. And if only we could learn to share in action and words of the things we should live for, then this world may just have become just a little bit better than before. We should never forfeit the good things in life because of the bad,and make our decisions in life based soly upon them. The most valuable things in life are defi

Literature

I love you.

I wondered if you could hear my heart in your sleep, Recognize the smell of my skin in your dreams, Touch my lips when you wake up, And whisper in my ears while I sleep. I pondered all that as you fell asleep to my heartbeat, Breathing softly on my chest with one of your hands still feeling me. And when I wake up it was your lips, Or maybe it's all just a dream. But when I declared "I love you", I could feel your lips at my ear, Whispering the sweet melody, Of everything I ever wanted to hear.

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Blind

When I close my green eyes If I focus I can see People and places from my past Etched in my memory If a blind man closes his eyes What can he possibly see Without any visual images Stored in his memory How do I describe colour To man who is born blind The same way I describe my love Within these heart felt rhymes When I close my green eyes I use my mind to conjure up Dreams of the future, based on Pages already written in my book If a blind woman closes her eyes What future can she see Unable to visualise Her fate and her destiny How do I describe colour To woman who is born blind The same way I describe my love Withi

Literature

The Man Who Burns

I am too sterile and static I can feel you walking away Into the arms of the man who burns But then again why would you stay He is so young and beautiful He lives life while I rehearse Acting upon his desires While I write about mine in verse Our love was Russian roulette Without bullets in the chamber Passing the gun back and forth Without any sense of danger The fire in your heart has gone now This cliché is not lost on me Metaphorically I'm the water That dampened our destiny You said you would never leave me But this contract was never binding I want you to find your freedom If there's a freedom worth finding Bey

Literature

You Don't Know Your Daughter At All

Just because she is no longer in a cradle Does not mean that your baby wont fall And if you think that her smile means she is happy Then you don’t know your daughter at all On arriving home from school she runs up the stairs And locks herself away in her room It’s so easy to think that it’s just teenage angst That will pass in time and be gone soon Perhaps you assume that it is just boy trouble A romance that will soon be forgot Yes, maybe her problems are just a passing phase But then again what if they are not What if they’re deep rooted in the parental soil That you’ve been failing to cultivate As she grow

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Literature

Whispering to Lucifer

Whispering to Lucifer: Humans are such wonderous creatures even when granted the gift of knowledge They fall prey to their own insecurities slaves to their own fears and paranoia Such is the father's gift of free will... Yes my lord, I understand but do you not feel disappointment? The great bringer of light has condemned himself to an eternity of darkness simply so his father's children may roam free Without adversity, there can be no acension... Ah, such a philosophical statement from you I am well aware that humans must experience both extremes Without tasting joy it would be impossible to understand sorrow Yet I fear that my

Literature

The Sadist

The Sadist: I love it most when they scream in pain; Cliched as that might sound. Their tearful pleading exhilarates me; Especially when they are unbound... I adore the feeling of letting them run In the knowledge that they won't get away. I'm afraid that once you enter my lair; You are simply here to stay... My greatest joy is in wresting confessions For in pain they admit to any crime. How many times have they renounced their devils Squealing all the time... A white hot poker, can work such wonders The tightest of tongues will turn to slack. I like to hold it against their flesh; Until it blisters, chars and goes utterly bla

Literature

Blind and Deaf I Fear...

He walked in a world of utter silence, where people screamed but did not hear. They held a void between their bodies, A void between the mouth and the ear. They spoke without speaking; thought without thinking and as the dark of night drew near conflict came amongst jubilant cheer! With smiles, they promoted their weapons of hate, formed gangs to advance their personal stake. And where hierophants commanded, the cattle went; Aggression in words and bullets spent. And with the bodies came sorrow, they wept in fear; blame amongst blame but there was no one to hear... For they spoke without speaking, thought without thinking; and held a void

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Fairytale Mythology

my words are magic beans that grow into a stalk so, follow where I lead, let's take a little walk past wolves that ain't nothing but huff & puff you're running with the big dogs now & I just called your bluff my house is made of stone, while you're wearing grandma's clothes I mastered poetry and reinvented prose with flows that topple foes and rescue damsels in distress my cupboard's never bare, my porridge passes every test impressed? distressed? afraid you've met your match? I burn quick like candlesticks; too nimble for you to catch so sing, "hey diddle diddle, this cat don't play no fiddle but he still make music so sweet that

poetry

Literature

The Bus Stop Dialogues

I. A young man at the bus stop turns to me and softly asks "Why aren't you wearing shoes?" He taps the faded leather of his suedo-skin and his eyes smile in a gentle lilt before his mouth does. I tell him that I like to feel the earth breathe. That textures keep my mind alive and ticking like a clock. I tell him that I'm trying to grow roots so my pale limbs can twist into a tree (the way L and I talked about it in therapy). I tell him that my soul is lonely and the ground is the only thing that's always there. I tell him that bare skin is sensitive and stroking it with every (twelfth) step is a soothing form of self-care

Literature

Schizophrenia

Voices whisper in your ear; Sweetest nothings, greatest fears. All your life your friend is there, Waiting with a tale to share. Threats are blown into the air, Ever present, meant to scare. Someone tails your every move; A hidden fiend, free to rove. Disembodied voices say: Never dare to disobey. Your friend arrives with a grin, A plan in mind, a great sin. Trembling grips your paling hand. Someone whispers their command. Terrified, you call to me, Hoping I can set you free. But as you point out your friend, Wishing that this all would end, My answer renews your fear: I see no one standing there.

Literature

Schizophrenia

Holding on to a thought has always been... difficult for me. They're so rarely interesting enough to hold my attention for more than a few seconds. Quite often, I'll tune out what someone is saying because something they said sparks a thought which leads to another thought which leads to another thought... No, I don't get distracted by shiny objects. I'm a human, not a magpie. I never really cared that I wasn't listening to what people were saying. My thoughts, as cascading as they are, were always more interesting than they were. Eventually, I did away with people entirely, living in my own stream of consciousness. Even now, it is difficul

Literature

Your Lovely Bones

I long not for your words or your flesh or your smile, Just the white of your bones, their crescent curves, Pressed hard against my hungry lips. I would claw through sinew like freshly dug earth, Could guzzle your blood like communion wine, If only to peel open that which cages your heart. My fingers ache with unrestrained lust, To touch where your skin becomes polished and carved, And play you like piano keys, Till the age-sharpened edges make my skin weep in shards, My breath still and heavy, dead in my chest, At the thought of my blushing cheek Resting on the rising ridges of your torso. I dream nightly of sleeping amidst your

Literature

Dark Bride

There's no heavier burden to carry Than the weight of a life unlived Never been a darker bride to marry Than the one who would waste their gifts I have but one desire That's to regain the fire And to this I aspire To again feel the pyre To let the flames climb higher There's no sadder sight to behold Than to watch the dying cinder Never a tragedy that's been so cold Than those who would do naught but hinder There's not a more lonely night to wait through Than to keep glancing at the door Never a more painful tear to kill you Than to see your dark bride once more

Literature

an atheist's prayer

dear god, i planted no tulips in autumn and no tulips came in spring. how silly of me, then to mourn the empty garden, to long for fields of amsterdam, to kneel at night in cold dirt, hands folded. i’ve learned there is a certain ache in lacking a thing never had, that small itch whose relief is two seasons past – so god, if you can hear me, know that i am homesick for amsterdam, whose name, like yours, i know but whose flowers i cannot see.

Jaiyden Furlong

JakeFurlong

Published: Dec 18, 2010

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Description

This is my character/fursona Jaiyden. I based the picture off chibijaime's "In short, Jake". Of course, his face is the only part I didn't change much. It was too cute to change. Anyway, the lines crawling along his fur are the shadows that he molds.

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