Stitches

The sun rises quickly to illuminate the truth.

Reality starts to squirm as the rays hit the roof.

Fears come to life that hide well on the inside.

Giving birth to doubt. destroying all pride.

Lack of words to relay the way you are feeling.

Lack of verbs to react so you can start healing.

Self destruct, rewind, relive, rebuild, reborn.

New stitches to repair where the heart was torn.

Wrong or right makes no difference in the end.

The hard part is sorting what was real or pretend.

Lead Vs Follow

       

 As i look around me in any social setting, i cant help but notice how different i am from EVERYONE i come in contact with. its not the way i dress or what i look like, its way deeper. the first thing i notice is the things that are so important 2 me do not mean NOTHING 2 them. On the flip side, the things they live for; i couldn’t care less about. the differences always starts here. i respect their passion for life as well as their personal definition for living. if i only received that in return, i might not feel so alienated. that’s when my ears open and my mouth shuts. i start breaking down the subtle body language and meanings behind their words. my wall starts to grow stronger as well as my senses. i hear 3 different conversations at once, taking in each of them, storing the information 4 future reference. at the same time, i withdraw from the conversation as the other people around me forget that i am even there. that’s my comfort zone. until i choose to open up. people hate me and my ability to appear emotionless. truth being told, i'm one of the most passionate person you could ever meet. i'm passionate about my friendships, my beliefs, my thoughts, my creativity, as well as my anger, my insatiable need to debate, and my indescribable need to just b myself. most people i meet never know any of these things because they don’t take the time to observe. that’s one of the major differences in me and everyone else i meet. i listen to what u DON'T say as well as what you DO say.

whatever happened to the art of making and keeping friends?

whatever happened to being PROUD for the people around you succeeding?

whatever happened to LEARNING from strangers?

whatever happened to being an individual?

whatever happened to going different paths and meeting at the end?

whatever happened to the general respect for people you meet even when they are different?

maybe i'm old school. maybe i am out of touch. i was raised in the late 70's by my great grandfather that told me: 

"the ears and mouth NEVER work at the same time"

and

"Find out what you are good at as well as what you are not. then do more of what you are good at and less of what you are not good at. that's the key 2 life"

i'm good at thinking outside of the box. i'm good at seeing the big picture no matter how thick the smokescreen is. i'm good at putting my irrational thoughts into words, my words into sentences, my sentences into paragraphs, and drawing people to it. i'm good at showing people a different way to look at ideas. if not, then why have you made it this far into my blog? so many people in my personal life think i'm stupid just because i don't choose to follow the step by step instructions to life. i choose to write my own. i choose to admit my weakness's to anyone that will listen because by the time i expose them., i've already made the proper adjustments so i don't repeat them.
i'm man enough to admit i am a flawed creature. i'm man enough to admit i have insecurities. i'm man enough to fear MYSELF.
that makes me complete.

Acceptance is the highest form of giving up on your individual thought process.

In A Sense

In A Sense

(innocence)

click on the lines to see my inspiration

War within youth.

foundation landslide.

Barrel and hammer.

Life lost on both sides.

Just a normal day

to blood on the blade.

Ignored signs sometimes,

a deadly price paid.

Backpack, no books.

Only a novice bombshell.

“They will listen now.”

his destruction will tell.

Illusions of madness.

Begging for attention.

Red hair, 6000 rounds

some twisted redemption.

The questions are simple,

solutions; far and few.

Reach one, teach one.

Yet one will slip through.

Fragile minds; dark times.

drugs, guns, and knives.

Raising my kids to smile

while i'm scared for their lives.

I used to

i used to do a lot of things.

i used to be cold to the world around me.

i used to live to die. now i'm dying to live.

i used to not care, but now i care too much. 

i used to be mad, but now i don’t have time.

i used to go out, but now i prefer staying in.

i used to dress nice, but now my kids do.

i used to value your image of me. now i'm just ME.

i used to wish time away. now i want that time back.

i used to be reckless, but now i slow down and THINK.

i used to hold grudges....i guess some things never change.

i used to worry about the small things, now i know what's important.

the only thing consistent in life is change.

embrace it!

living, learning, and loving are our only obligations to this planet.

if you aren’t doing each of those things everyday,

you are just taking up space.

people always say, "ceL....you’ve changed!".

the sad thing is...most of those people that say that HAVEN'T changed!

Yes i've changed. That's the only reason I am alive to talk about this.

floating on the wind of change,
looking down on the former me.
lessons learned, bridges burned.

enlightened by the darkness
a mislead boy once called home.
self healing of unborn feelings.

the rusty door opens on my
homemade cell that confined
a bruised mind, now redefined.

my body grows weak as the
light invades my unused eyes.
"so long since i was this strong".

~ceL

The Violent Attic

FREE DOWNLOAD BELOW

i appreciate the people who purchased my book The Violent Attic. I spent a long time on the poems contained in it. it was a chapter in my life that needed to be closed. i hope the people that purchased it understands that i just wanted it to be read. im offering it for free to anyone that wants to read it. it can be read online or u can download it for your mobile devices. Please share this with anyone you think would enjoy it. thanks!
The Violent Attic - Violent Virtues and Verses is a collection of poetry and artwork from ceL layne.  Every form of entertainment is a direct product of someone else's pain or torment in their life. Their art form is therapy so the suffering they feel is not in vain. For example, the comedian uses comedy to express their sorrow to uplift others in a positive fashion. The musician uses their lyrics to relay the knowledge they possess in order to reach out to people that use music as their release. Pain has such a mass appeal to people. People thrive of this pain. Pain is embraced as art, where as in its natural form, it is shunned. Some of my poetry comes from those dark places inside of my soul. I have grown mentally over the years and I have corrected the errors in my thought process. Some of these poems have a very distorted view of life, love, and everything in between. In the honor of fairness; I included them in this book in their original form. Most of these were not meant for human consumption. I wrote them to provide me with a map of where I am going and where I never want to return. Welcome to The Violent Attic..
  click here to download The Violent Attic

Popping

Take 2 and call me rich.
Take too much, get too sick.
When your energy sinks.
Swallow energy drinks.
Caffeine, methamphetamine,
nicotine,morphine, codeine,
amphetamine, dexedrine
looking lean in a bad dream.
Quick fix? Keep on popping.
Ephedrine. There's no stopping.
Percocet and methadone.
brown bottles, no one's home.
Drug addicts from broken bones.
Oxycontin. A LEGAL jones.
Pharmacist can start the healing.
Make it numb. Stop the feeling.
Adderal in jaws. Youth appealing.
Its ok! The governments dealing.
Round by round. Pick a new one.
Take them all until you're done.
This is the message our kids receive.
Yet u question me on what I believe?
Please!

No Less

A thought once taught he missed I guess.
to remain sane and stay blessed no less.
Keeping his fowl in order through stress.
No rest in this mess once labeled “his best”.
Depressed is the guest he serves on the inside.
He dies by his pride always drives; never rides.
Doesn't care for the stares or who's on his side.
“Oh I tried but I lost”, but we all knew he lied.
The truth is his youth is far from past tense.
His core rotten, forgotten, and without sense.
a house crumbling down inside of a beautiful fence.
he does nothing. “Rebuilding is way too intense.”
his mind slashing his soul,
his soul doing the same.
spirit starts to grow cold,
and so does the brain.
Hating what he loved.
Loving what he hated.
Nothing from above.
His faith is deflated.

Hollow

Clip my wings,
Take my things.
I fly and buy again.

Did not make me,
Can not break me.
From my feet i always mend.

I will pay my toll
And keep my soul.
Not too big to swallow.

Ties all broken
From silence unspoken.
Better fed up than hollow.

Budge

I decline the rewind of my mind to when I was blind.
I refine what is mine to define how bright I can shine.
Remember the time my heart was December?
The cold beholds a truth sharp enough to dismember.
This gift can be dismissed as bathing in sadness.
Now I just exist to twist all of this madness.
Judge me; can't budge me. Giving everything until it is gone.
My soul and soles are rooted in the earth u quietly tiptoe upon.

Tradition

 Seeds in a stork limo,
birds hit a clean window.
a broken mirror curses,
groups of 3 in hearses.
Salt over shoulders.
4 leaf clover holders.
Knuckles knocking tables.
Written children fables.
Dodging walkway cracks.
a penny on it's back.
A fat man in red.
A dollar in a bed.
An egg in a basket.
A blessing on a casket.
A quarter in a wishing pool.
Lucky charms, unlucky fool.
Something blue. Something new.
Little lies u buy into.
Give it, live it. Dont ask why.
Pass them on. Traditional lies.

Piece of the Web

w0w! i had a friend send me a message asking me for the links to my stuff. i started going through my bookmarks and i  realized how many pages i actually created! i decided to post them all here. i really have my hands in everyrthing. one day i hope to build another website with all of my content on it. until then; here is my stuff. feel free to share it with anyone that likes art and writing. thanks!

Email: TwistedceL@gmail.com

Twitter: @cel8u

ceL You Tube channel: my videos
https://www.youtube.com/user/cel8u


Found Myself: this site is an art community. its a great place to get exposure.
http://www.foundmyself.com/ceLayne

Deviant Art: this site is an art community where artists network
http://soulofcel.deviantart.com/

Braincel on Ebay: this is where i sell some of my artwork. i havent posted much lately because i have been busy working with my digital stuff; but i should have some things on here within the next few months.
http://myworld.ebay.com/braincelpro

ceL on Pintrest: this is the link for my Pintrest account. Im new to Pintrest, so i have a lot more things to add.
 http://pinterest.com/twistedcel

Broken Steps

Deaf from the sound

of hope striking the ground.

Standing furiously weak,

curiously I can't speak.

Cant find my place

or a familiar face

or a comfortable space

to suit my taste.

The lines don’t rhyme.

My colors don’t shine.

My mind is not mine.

Cant move. Half-blind.

Rotten; forgotten, bruised,

all used, confused, abused,

self inflicted and gifted.

I can taste it. I waste it.

Could have's and did not's.

Would have's and missed shots.

A formidable enemy within.

Death is the inevitable end.

Until then I mend.

Break in two or bend.

BREATH DEEP!

Count down from 10 to begin.

I’ve been here before; ill be here again.

Look further than NOW

for the answer of “how?”.

I’ve been strong way too long

to not right my wrongs.

EXHALE

Bring it all. Bring it loud.

I stand tall. I stand proud