Dickinson, Digital drawing, doodle, free verse, Influences, Life, Line art, pain and suffering, poetry

M tee-ness #42

These days were so filled of the madness which of my emotions and dared

to thrust all of my tongue to dry it out by talking all of my negative side.

Then only when it emptied,

I knew where to park my mind,

Unto its unkind vehicle upon a spot where no one can see,

that unhinged wrecked,

and yes a battered worned out and decapitated,

automaton of a mind that wont rest until

it was empty of its fuel and oil.





abstract, Art, Blank Verse, Dickinson, Digital drawing, doodle, Drawing/Sketch, Influences, Life, Line art, noodling, poetry

NsVs vs NmBs .444:z0s4

A fear of hope

 in any second is a mile 

of the sky that stretches 

beyond any imagination.

For the hope to fear 

that my hand shall take 

and grip its heel is an attack 

not by something it is an insecurity 

that one who gave it inside willingly.


©Oliver Melendez

®ohms,artsydhude all works thereof


abstract, Art, Blank Verse, Dickinson, Digital drawing, doodle, Drawing/Sketch, Frost, Influences, Life, Line art, noodling, poetry

This bottle of . . .


I am trying to look. . .

for you,

for reasons,

of excuses.

The void which can be emptied and be filled,

Yet still be of nothing and something in between.

I asked it,

It told me.

Go out breathe that which is free,

Go out stand amongst the weightless water.

Go out and run into all hills of others.

You will see,

You will touch,

You can smell,

All that is and be all that can never be yours.

In some sense it was and will always be yours not to take nor make.

Only time will love you for what you are,

Not the one you are becoming,

Breathe damn fool,



© Oliver Melendez

® Ohms, Artsydhude


abstract, anxiety and worry, Art, Blank Verse, Dickinson, Digital drawing, doodle, Drawing/Sketch, Emotional warfare, free verse, Influences, Life, Line art, noodling, Personal, poetry, reflective

Love to leave it.

What is it about,

When i cannot ponder,

Why I am always thinking,

Where was my mind and 

How i came into questions that

Which can never stop,

Does it ever anyway?

The only answer would be,

Leave it as it goes,

To let it go behind

The wall of 

Letting go.

Art, Dickinson, Digital drawing, Influences, poetry

Free the mind . . .

Of the love that was

Of the time was

All the longing of dwelling on and the 

Past that flew in and out

Of the life that spent on 

Reclusive state,

Repetitive mindless dribbles and squabbles,

Prideful grudges and stoic cynicism.

So it seems any of somewhat vices that held or lost,

Then please do held your senses responsible,

Not your behavior,

At least admit it to your attitude,

Unless it was intended,

Unless it was intentional,

For it was the brain all along that held you,

In all that was,

Can you try,

Just to adjust but not change,

Your cellulite and the scars that held you in pain,

And bathe in the rain.

Art, Dickinson, Drawing/Sketch, Influences, Life, poetry

Ns wat901

The past cried its last tears,

and all of those miseries

left my head a day ago.

Only emptiness kept me

alive in my own place.

Where is the sound that love makes,

where a heart love to ache,

only then when a life has to begin its ending,

all the while emotions love to start and does end,

when the eyes swells with its own life lights up after crying.