abstract, Digital drawing, doodle, Dramedy, poetry, Theology

Sunday epiphanies .0000007

I am with u,

no longer alone,

u r with me,

In a sense,

I wasn’t alone to begin,

There would be no end,

‘coz in you,

I know.

I am in a hell of a fight,

and purely in heaven resting in your light.





Digital drawing, poetry, Theology

AuVi .zz:b21

Go ahead mock me,

Go ahead try  me.

I know in my head I am not even here,

I know in my head I will not hear.

Your pleas of your own suffering,

Your own affliction of your addictive conditions,

Then tell me you need me to exorcise your pains.

I will bear it,

I will linger in my own prayer.

Yet when everything is good on your end,

You turn around and give me to society and say:

I am the one who needs to be put away

to justify your ends and gains,

only to benefit your own ego to know,

you were not alone only to tell everyone

Tituba was with me all along,

that you said to them:

I am the king of Golgotha.





Digital drawing, doodle, Drawing/Sketch, Line art, New Testament, Old Testament, Theology


It said in its beginning,

. . . “In the image of us”.

Then let all those,

Who keeps to contradict,

Who keeps all hypocrisy,

Who keeps all records of its societies.


Wait. . .

He did said it best,

Two of each kind to be with “us” on that same boat.


Which one is it.

One or two?


Wait . . .

If there is good

There has to be evil.

If there is a male, the other female.

Ok. . .


Then yes,

There has to be two.

For if it were only one,

Then reproduction of life was asexual,

Not intersections of life.


©Oliver Melendez

®ohms, artsydhude


Digital drawing, poetry, Theology

NsVs vs NmBs .444z

Who is that on my mind,

Whispering such delight and delicate nonsensical emotional attack.

Telling me that I am righteous,

Shouting at me and gearing my Id to armor up.

Giving me that I can be,

That I could be,

That this should be,

That there would be.

Although I hear in my ear,

Someone saying.

Choose wisely to know,

What is the deal with the muscle that which is none without its soul.

Back off asmodei.

Get away you little beelzebub.

Pesky imps that of Diablo’s counter-mind.

Get out you festering devils,

Get out of my head.


©oliver Melendez

®ohms, artsydhude