Gays in the mediaI would like to acknowledge the traditional owners of the land on which we stand today, and offer my own apology for the generations of displacement and mistreatment they have suffered since white settlement.Gays in the media13 years ago in General Non-Fiction
Though I live life openly as a gay man, I don't really conform to many of the current stereotypes.
On the surface, I've got a goatee -- granted -- but it's often wild and bushy only rarely clipped to perfection. And as you can see, the closest I've come to chiselled pecs and a six pack for many a year are man-boobs and a barrel-belly.
And while I sometimes secretly aspire to owning a collection of Armani suits, lately I've been wondering if I'm the shortest man ever to buy from the big men's section at Tar-jay.
I've never worshipped at the altar of Kylie Minogue. I suspect that if I was stranded on a desert island with a Walkman and just a Kylie CD to remind me of humanity, chances are pretty good I'd drown myself (Nothing personal Kylie).
I didn't 'come out' until I was 28 after
Break from Social MediaI've got to take a break from the virtual world.Break from Social Media1 year ago in Free Verse
I need to give my eyes rest from shameful distractions.
I get a headache from reading the news and gossip.
The constant arguing, shaming,assuming, and complaining is so trite.
I am tired of the internal fight with the indulger and restrainer.
I've got to take a break. It probably won't get any better.
deviantART is a social media site.dA has made some significant changes lately, and I've been reading the comments from both sides of the fence. There are things I like, things I don't, and things I don't like but would like with some tweaking. But let's set all that aside for a moment. There's a complaint that I keep seeing pop up, and it bugs me. It usually goes something like this:deviantART is a social media site.1 year ago in Editorial
"deviantART is NOT a social media site!"
To be blunt, this is incorrect and displays an ignorance of what social media is. I blame Facebook - it's popularity has highjacked the definition of social media in the public consciousness. A quick Google search gives a succinct definition of the term:
websites and applications that enable users to create and share content or to participate in social networking.
This is exactly what deviantART is and does; promotes the creation of content, provides a platform to share it, and fosters connections. Anything thing else is just fluff.
A more relevant
Social MediaShe turns on the TV today,Social Media1 year ago in Free Verse
Just like any other day,
To be brainwashed yet again.
Flashing into her mind of images
That are portrayed as 'beautiful',
Whether it's big cheek bones,
Tiny waists, large breasts,
Perfect teeth, tan skin, etc.
She'll never love herself.
He turns on his laptop today,
Just like any other day,
To be brainwashed more and more.
Flashing into his mind of images
That are considered 'perfect',
Whether it's to be very tall,
Pale skin, big eyes, muscular,
Blonde hair, perfect teeth, etc.
He'll never love himself.
She walks into a tanning salon today,
A plastic surgeon's office tomorrow,
Starve herself and pay fortunes for body modifications,
So her society will love her.
He walks into a hair salon today,
A plastic surgeon's office tomorrow,
Strain his body and pay fortunes for body modifications,
So his society will love him.
Viva the Social (Media) Revolution!Ladies and Gents this here is my brand new planViva the Social (Media) Revolution!2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
It’s guaranteed to take down the man
First up we list all his wrongs
In a protest album full of remixed songs
Step two is even better
Hit him with a petition and an open letter
For step three we’ll ruin his trip to Tahiti
By daubing his beach house in artistic graffiti
And when he’s reeling like a cat in the rain
We’ll move in for the kill with a human chain
And expose him as a man most bitter
With paint bombs and a ton of glitter
And of course we’ll be coordinating via facebook and twitter
Un-Sociable MediaFace-book, loose lace-bookUn-Sociable Media7 months ago in Free Verse
tangle-tied mind crook
stole the truth
became a meth-cook.
Twitter-pie tangled lie
twits tweeting evil eye
sees thirsty ears
from its throne in the sky.
Lengthy weed-filled feeds
spawn darker breeds
sow harsh tones
and black unpicked bones.
time to wake
this rancid pie un-bake!
De-tox mind Clorox!
Pull up your socks
call the band
and touch your friends hand.
Yes EveryNo, not every white person is racist.Yes Every1 year ago in Free Verse
But yes, every person of colour will experience racism.
No, not every man is sexist.
But yes, every woman will experience sexism.
No, not every straight person is homophobic.
But yes, every gay person will experience homophobia.
No, not every cis-gendered person is transphobic.
But yes, every transgender person will experience transphobia.
Enough with your 'not every's.
Because, yes every.
The PoetThe Poet:The Poet3 years ago in Free Verse
He smiles as he sees her sleeping
& gently covers her with a blanket.
He goes to the window and looks out
watching snow fall, ever so slowly...
He sees people in the streets,
Chatting, walking. Some happy,
Others sad. Hearts beating,
Hearts broken; some warm, some cold.
He looks back at her, as she stirs in bed.
A yawn from her, brings another smile to him:
"How cute," he chuckles as he strokes her head.
He runs his fingers through her hair and is content.
Yet, even if he is happy here, again -
He is drawn to that window and finds himself
Staring out at the street and watching;
Marveling at the disparity and wondering -
Isn't there something that I can do?
Isn't there a better way for us all?
He looks back at her, sleeping peacefully;
He thinks about the future and sighs.
He wants a better world for her,
One where she would always be safe,
But unfortunately, he has no power.
He is just one man with little to his name.
He picks up a piece of paper, one found lyin
Practice Poem - Man In CagePractice Poem - Man in Cage:Practice Poem - Man In Cage3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
When I was young I was taught that pain begets pain,
Anger and animosity, malice and cruelty;
So deeply inflicted, so lovingly gifted.
I tasted of its rotten core and dared to call it sweet.
But what do I have to show for it?
White hot scars that burn in my dreams.
Reminders of a fragmented bi-polar self;
Self inflicted propaganda, to reinforce the "truth".
Truth so lovingly fabricated by a weakness within,
So desperately crying out for vindication;
Openly denying all that might shed light upon me,
Seeking only the company of shades in shadows...
Within four walls I sleep in exile;
Quietly pretending that I am still sane,
Never noticing how it has all turned out;
Alone I remain the same...
Never reaching, never living; I am free within the cage
-Chen Yuan Wen, 1st January 2012
Woman's WorldHe wakes upWoman's World6 years ago in Free Verse
and notices nothing unusual.
He wanders downstairs in skimpy pjs, switches on the radio
The breakfast show, a witty host and her regulation male sidekick-
the butt of the jokes.
The news is going, that abducted boy found dead, sexually abused, throttled
A woman helping with inquiries
Bored of the chatter he turns it off
Eats his cereal before the telly, a music channel
Women in baggy jeans singing about how nice men look
in clubs, dancing topless around holes.
He unconsciously scrutinises the semi-clad men that surround her
Winding their perfect bodies in sync to the beat, hip rolling
Looks down at his own belly, thinks, I'll skip lunch.
In the shower he shampoos his long hair,
Fretting about baldness
this constant battle with his body.
He shaves his legs, his armpits, his belly
Scans his chest and thighs for regrowth
wonders when he should next visit the salon.
He shaves his jaw.
He dresses uncomfortably
Can't buy anything without some kind of
Your life is not a British television showPeople on social media sitesYour life is not a British television show2 years ago in Free Verse
tend to glorify things that hurt.
They brag about things
that people struggle with.
Mental illness is not a label.
It is not a badge nor a privilege
or something you have to earn.
they battle voices in their heads
that they do not even recognize.
People struggle to tame
their inner demons
and keep up an image
that the world expects them to uphold.
Mental illness is not cute,
being so anxious you cannot speak is not a quirk.
Relying on people to take care of you is not romantic.
Your life is not an episode of Skins
The idea of Effy and Freddie is fictional,
no one is going to save you.
We go home and muffle our cries
while dragging razors across our wrists
chasing pills with bottles of vodka.
Our thoughts turn on us
Like a loaded gun,
and we are stuck forever
in a game of Russian roulette.
We wear long sleeves,
and try to drown out voices with headphones.
We tremble at the thought of giving up the chemicals
we have become dependent
Glowing ScreenI’ve seen the worldGlowing Screen1 year ago in Free Verse
Through a glowing screen.
Yet, I still feel the furthest
I’ve ever been
To it all.
Happy BirthdayThis is not a poem.Happy Birthday2 years ago in Emotional
It's not even a story.
This is a simple observation.
Today I was on Facebook, a dangerously common occurrence for me. Borderline addiction, possibly. I looked to the right column where events and birthdays are posted, and noticed it was a friend's birthday. And I hesitated in saying anything.
I hesitated to say happy birthday to a friend. Why?
Was it because we only had one community college class together a couple of years ago, so our friendship is little more than a past acquaintance that hasn't yet ceased to exist on a social media site?
Was it because I didn't have the time to type out those two simple words, perhaps even a dot of punctuation if I'm splurging on free time? The answer to this question is no, because even though I have a quiz tomorrow and two midterms next week, I was clearly distracted on Facebook nonetheless. Besides, I'm typing this now, and it's quite more extensive than a happy birthday.
Was it because I thought it would be awkward if he got
My Soul, My Dream, My TeamMy Soul, My Dream, My Team:My Soul, My Dream, My Team3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word
We are dreamers, we humans.
We reach out eagerly to that which lies above us
Tempted by its unattainable nature and egotistically;
We simplify the task that lies before us...
We climb without any forethought, without preparation;
Recklessly we charge head on for our goal -
And eventually, we lie broken by our failure.
I myself, Captain as you call me,
Am little better than a foolish dreamer.
One who dreams in a childish manner;
Unaware of his impotence, when left alone.
How many times have I been saved by others?
When I lack time, it is my officers who stand,
They keep the ship running smoothly,
Expending hours of precious effort.
When I fall, it is my co-captain who rallies me,
And reminds me of our responsibility -
One that we owe to our readers and friends.
When I write, it is my team - my uncles,
Who lay the path before me;
They give their time and their heart,
Supporting my work from its birth as but a simple idea.
And when I am dow
DeceptiveDeceptive3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern
Tempting with beautiful wings;
-Chen Yuan Wen, 4th January 2013
Internet ActivistsIt’s a great day for internet activists!Internet Activists1 year ago in Free Verse
Shine your cellphone lights in the sky and celebrate.
That video you shared on Facebook? It worked!
The UN has since declared a World Peace!
Animal Rights? You’re pet dog can now vote.
Good on you, Clifford.
Every reporter in the world
Is wondering how’d you make such a drastic change
Without doing jack shit.
So tell the world,
How’d you do it?
Enduring AtlasGrunting, Atlas shifted the weight of the heavens to his left shoulder so he could check his phone. Dionysus' party looked insane, it seemed like everyone who was anyone was there. Every other photo on instagram was Dionysus with his arms around a different Maenad. God of the grape harvest? More like god of the grope harvest.Enduring Atlas5 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes
Logging in to Facebook, Atlas saw that Zeus suddenly had a lot more female friends. His relationship with Hera had been changed to 'it's complicated' again. According to his status update, Apollo had played a few songs from his new album on his magical lyre. Reception was apparently positive. Atlas wished someone had posted a video.
He browsed a collection of party photos. Everybody looked like they were having fun. There was Demeter, pouring out her new microbrew. There was Hecate, chatting up some girl. He lingered on a photo of Aphrodite and sighed. After a while he 'liked' it, but then 'unliked' it again and scrolled away.
Was there a single deity in al
2015 April HaikuWriMoDay 30 ~ "full circle"2015 April HaikuWriMo8 months ago in Haiku & Eastern
start at the end
finish at the beginning –
i am full circle
Day 29 ~ "irresistible"
you call to me, irresistible –
right now, perfect
Day 28 ~ "words"
connect me to you –
souls on paper
Day 27 ~ "flight of the bird"
fly me away,
blown by gods,
tell your tale,
your existence –
leave your mark.
Day 26 ~ "clocks"
teasing you wide awake
Day 25 ~ "sakura"
cherry blossoms spiral –
Day 24 ~ "humour"
trial and error
we are old friends –
still they wonder
why black edges
Day 23 ~ "cards"
shuffle my heart
take a chance on a diamond –
beware the joker smile
Day 22 ~ "pastoral"
truth on tr
Lost GenerationI am the baby you once abortedLost Generation2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms
Because I got in the way
I am the child you once regretted
Who never could have a say
Alive, I was inconvenient
They shouted that it was your 'right'
'Anti-choicers' should be more 'tolerant'
Against your guilt you should fight
I am the child with genetic defects
You decided I wasn't worthwhile
In my quality of life I joined the rejects
In the anti-progress pile
I'm dead, so be unapologetic
While they will make the press
Ignoring eugenics, be to you sympathetic
Whilst I'm now a biochem mess
I am the son without his father
Because men 'no longer matter'
A mother or two can do the job, rather
They tell me it's so much better
I am the daughter without her mother
Apparently she was subhuman
Because of feminism, or something or other,
Her role can be done by a man
I am the child with identity confusion
Because a university theory
Said who I am is pure construction
So they'll tell me how I should be
We are the children who haven't a clue
As to if you care and w
I Hate FacebookAnd to be quite frank, you make me sick.I Hate Facebook3 years ago in Free Verse
And I can’t do it. I can’t do it anymore.
Sit and sift through their lives.
Preening and polished.
And I think I hate them.
Or maybe it’s myself I hate.
The lack of supposed importance.
The lack of substantial proof. I was there, I was happy.
And sometimes we are alive even when we are dead.
Tidbits of time caught on film.
Faces trapped in photographs.
Something. I was someone.
Levi x Reader: Bitch please, it's fabulous 1You sat at your mahogany desk sipping apple juice through a straw from a small carton because that's all you could afford with your poverty-stricken wallet. Your desk sat between two hallways on the left and right, one leading to Erwin's part of the building and the other leading to the vile, wretched, heartless bastard named fucking Levi.Levi x Reader: Bitch please, it's fabulous 12 years ago in General Fiction
Fucking bitchy, sassy Levi.
It was abso-fucking-lutely amazing how easily emotions for another person could change. A week ago, you were head over heels for Levi.
Well, let's just say that at the very least, you wouldn't mind chopping off a certain member of his to cause him excruciating pain and deter him from breeding.
Oh, if only you could----
"Oi brat, what are you? A 5 year old? What the hell is with that childish juice box? And that hair...did you put effort into looking ugly today? And damnit, get a new fucking watch. That 'thing' on your wrist is almost as repugnant as your face."
And there it was. "It" being the nit-picky, n
Sing a Song of Sex and SeductionWhen the noise under your bed's just a little too scary,Sing a Song of Sex and Seduction3 years ago in Free Verse
"Mommy, Daddy, a monster's coming to get me!"
So they'd check under your bed so you would see
That the monster in your room was only in your dreams.
We live in a world of lies.
What really happens when you turn out the lights
And half the world goes dark for the night?
None of us really knows what's right.
It's a world of destruction,
That we allow ourselves to divulge in.
And the sad thing is it's like a suction.
We allow ourselves to be sucked in.
Do you want your child, your baby girl, to ask,
"What's sex and seduction?"
Put two and two together to make the deduction;
Media's about to make an eruption.
My writing teacher once said,
"Ouija boards don't talk to the dead!"
It took me a while to get it through my head
That maybe he's right...
But I tried it instead.
It's so hard to see the truth anymore.
Kids younger and smaller are looking at porn.