The Colour of TimeThe Colour of Time9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
To the Nihilists that declare Beauty does not exist,
And to the Philistines that declare her to be dead
May I thus present, forthwith, this humble diatribe,
The most offensive thing, that either of them have read.
Simple strokes of ferrous ink, to the writer,
Is like unto the painter, dabs of turpentine,
In the process of the blending and mixing
Of colours, and hues – of rhythms, and rhymes.
But a careless line written can strike or kill,
For words on a page are armies of great might –
The pen could be the only thing to put a villain down
Or to finally, heroically, set things right.
For, you see, there never has seemed to be any closure
For the tortured souls, trapped in the glass,
Or for the shapeless white puffs up in the sky,
Or the shooting-stars here and gone, so fast.
They come, and they go, inside a shining beyond
Glanced at but briefly, in this Mirror of Illusion,
Dying in agony when a second passes,
Buried forever in shattered confusion.
Now what if, instead of
The NightThe Night11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
deep slow moans
come from the roots
of the earth
and bend on themselves
fingers of the trees
in a sigh
they stretch out
like the hands of a beggar
to turn off
profondi lenti lamenti
provengono dalle radici
e si tendono
dita di alberi
in un sospiro
come le mani del mendicante
Pain Is GorgeousPain Is Gorgeous10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Pain is Gorgeous,
A collar of pink fiery rubies
Set with obsidian spikes
That affixes my neck, chokes me --
As I stroke your chest
And beg with my eyes
For you to hold me closer...
The Emokids and the Hopeless Preps:
The first adjust their buttons,
The second pop their collars --
They watch me on stage, beseeching in a sob
Before the placid face of the Virgin
Tearing my eyes out to never see him again --
My Mind's Eye to forget the images within it,
Making mockery of my religion by saying
The wine is my blood --
And Hell's Fire and Damnation,
I will be drunk off of how wretched I feel.
I am alone.
Alone, in such a way, no one could ever bear to watch me --
Watch me fall apart, cracked porcelain hitting the floor,
The bloody flood of torrents from my eyes washing it over...
And for once, I'm humbled completely.
I could hold up my brilliance, my writings --
My beauty, inner and outer, sit in radiant contemplation
Of why Pain is so God-damned gorgeous,
And seems to glimmer c
Fuck YouFuck You10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Make me Ill
+_Silent Tears_++_Silent Tears_+11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A mistress of disguise
Yet you don't fool me
We share the same feelings
We share the same thoughts
Everything is falling apart
Like acid eating away flesh and blood
Smiles and laughter at day
Tears and regrets at night
I feel your pain
Though I can't talk to you about it
Every second, every hour, every day
These silent tears are for you
I want it to be like old times
Little girls singing and laughing
Memories of the past
But nothing can bring it back
Hostility Towards TerragenHostility Towards Terragen10 years ago in Editorial More Like This
Hostility towards the program terragen has always been present, and most likely, always will be. But let's get down to brass tacks. What is terragen? It's a 3d scenery generator. Right. There's no real Modelling process involved per se, and it looks and works completely different (to all means and purposes of the majority) to a 3d modelling application such as 3d studio max or Maya. It is comprised of a series of mostly numerical controls, and a few random generators based on numerical/slider inputs.
...this means, it's an easy program, and requires little or no effort to pull off good results.
Here's my favourite word of this article. WRONG.
The program is as deep as you want it to be, just as many other art orientated programs are. The quality of the results produced from it are proportional to the artists skill in using it. Just becau
The Future of DeviantART?The Future of DeviantART?10 years ago in Editorial More Like This
Over the course of the last 23 months as a deviant, I've seen some things that most others never get the chance to, and I've seen the highs and lows of the community. I've seen the transfer from version to version with the each new August; I've seen what it's like to be a deviant; I've seen what it's like to wear the staff hat as well; I've even seen being banned. But, I ask you this: Why am I still here? What makes me keep coming back here, and supporting this place so strongly? What it is I'm yet to find properly and define, but I know for sure, it's slowly dwindling away, fading into the distant memories of better times when deviantART was simply the best website around without the slightest shadow of a doubt. No'urdays, community seems to be taking a backseat to the corporate ventures the site seems to be undertaking at an exponentially quick rate. With every passing day, a new move towards turning dA into exactly what it is not: a corporation.
When it was founded in 2000, t
Chronicles of PainChronicles of Pain10 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Whispers breached the carefree mood in the corridor when the boy entered. "Outcast," they taunted. "Insane," they hurled. The boy walked straight, feigning deaf. Though his ears were brimming with the insults, it was easier this way. His footsteps were carefully measured, every step landing with a distinct thud that seemed to echo through the hall. His eyes crept over every crack of the luminescent floor, carefully studying the erratic specks of colors. He recognized every single speck, every tiny crack. He went through this every morning, for his social exile was daily.
His thoughts crept slowly back to his childhood. Even as a toddler he had been strange. While most children were playing carelessly in the sandbox, he was slinking back into the shadows, desperately praying to go unnoticed. He longed for normal memories for his only memories were of books and imaginary friends.
The most prominent was that of a girlfriend, a new girl to town. She had been drawn in
The Rising Storm: Chapter 1Late summer, 2257 ab urbe Regelli conditaThe Rising Storm: Chapter 17 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
There was an opponent to either side of me as I stood ready and waiting for Master Wei-fus direction. His black robes hung off his bony frame and he leaned on his staff. His sparse beard pointed stiffly at me and his eyes flashed with annoyance in the shadow of his brows.
I was stripped down for exercise. The late afternoon sun is never very warm that time of the year in the mountains when summer is dying and theres a scent of autumn in the air. With the sweat from our earlier passes drying on my skin I was feeling the chill.
Begin! he cried.
My older brothers Calcedor and Tristan began circling me, each looking for an opening. I moved with them, trying to keep track of both at the same time. Other than the shuffle of our bare feet on the sandy ground, there was no other sound in the training yard.
Tris made the first move, dropping low and sweeping for my feet. Idiot. Maybe he thought hed surprise me, but h
Working Without a NetWorking Without a Net12 years ago in Humor More Like This
I did what any of us would have done when learning that my Internet service had been shut down. I cried.
Actually, that's not completely true. The first thing I did was frantically dial up the campus tech people, who told me the problem would be resolved in an hour. Anyone who has ever dealt with Electronic Device Repairpersons should already know that "an hour" in their language translates into "sometime between an hour and the rapture."
So I waited an hour. Then I cried.
How could I possibly function without instant access to news, entertainment, and all that other stuff that's just sort of there? What could I do in place of checking my e-mail every 20 minutes and playing Slingo? This was a major problem.
But after a moment of despair, I dried my tears with the hanky of determination. I would not let this defeat me! I had lived happily before without the Internet and I could live the same way now! I only had to remember how.
I first tried reading an ancient text recording from when p
I'm SorryI'm Sorry8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
today I accidentally
killed your ladybug
tangled in my mess of hair
onto my shoulder
not thinking I grabbed
for the tickle and
with a fingetip
on her round
and I watched her fade
the Hundred Year FarceThe Hundred Year Farcethe Hundred Year Farce7 years ago in Scripts & Screenplays More Like This
a PLAY in brief
[Open on a bus stop with bench, currently unoccupied. OLD MAN enters slowly from SR, hobbles to and sits on the far side of the bench. He takes a sighing breath, then extricates a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket. He places one in his mouth, lights it, and smokes contentedly. There is the sound of a scuffle off SR, and YOUNG MAN is thrown bodily onto the stage, where he staggers to his feet, somewhat drunk.]
YOUNG MAN: Just you wait til I'm sober again! [Nearly falls twice] but until then, I'll give you time to think about it. [He weaves his way to the near side of the bench and gestures to it] this seat taken? [OLD MAN shakes his head, and he sits.]
OLD MAN: The fighting any good tonight son?
YOUNG MAN: The best in weeks. [Peers at OLD MAN] Do I know you?
OLD MAN: Nope.
YOUNG MAN: But I just saw you in the bar.
OLD MAN: You're the only man I know that professes to
FragileI'm okay with beingFragile7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
gripping the folds of too-big sweater,
like an extra skin
to compensate for her own,
pulled tight over a collection
I'm okay with being
while yet imagining her hip bones,
to be hips
knowing that she would never
achieve the hourglass femininity
I'm okay with being
Chronoscape, Chapter OneChronoscape, Chapter One9 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
Can a line of events be traced to its origins, only to connect with its end?
Sept 17, 14:15
Apex clouds converged around the azure mountain of ice. The polar ocean rumbled, somewhere beneath, grappling into the iceberg, gnawing away at its foundations.
Grim, fluttering celestial arc released a blinding sphere of light has from the cloudy grasp. Scorching beams of sunlight smashed into the iceberg with relentless fury and the iceberg screeched in fear of their attack as glittering veins of cobalt and silver pulsated upon its surface. The temperature was rising, as the iceberg drifted south, pushed forward by the slashing wind. The iceberg fought against the warm currents till its last breath, but all was hopeless. An unyielding crack started to crawl across its surface, explosions of cold mist whooshing as the iceberg crumbled, expiring away; connecting with the clouds and the ocean.
Oct 4th, 9:12
A tiny, conical drop of water spiraled through the gray and blue mush of fog tha
Maybe its KizmetMaybe its Kizmet12 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The Odeon of steel and glass that surrounds me has one of those distasteful smells, so repulsive, that it serves no other purpose than to remind you of other times in your young life you would do anything and everything despite your face to make the smell go away. Today's smell of the hour was a busying concoction of oil, heat, pavement, and dirt. Dingy cars chucking out carbon refuse did nothing to help the already soiled walls, and worse, the already soiled sensibilities of this cities inhabitants.
If ignorance was bliss, then this was the happiest place on earth. Seeing as how, as I walk to my car one block over, I was almost struck by no less then three cars in my short jaunt. The smells changed and I could have sworn that I was standing in the middle of my elementary school cafeteria. There was this smell of cheap meat, over cooked cheese, and Government Issue corn taco shells that is so unmistakable, I honestly believe that it is a required part of the building code for al
A Digital PrometheusA Digital PrometheusA Digital Prometheus12 years ago in Other More Like This
I don't like the idea of transubstantiation. Drinking my saviour.
Should I wet my lips? Take a gulp?
I don't like the letter 't'. They remind me of crosses.
No, I don't want to touch your wounds.
It's not a matter of disbelief.
But unease. They weep and ooze.
Technology is my enemy. Photographs steal my soul.
Blinking lights, On-off off-on. Ones and zeroes.
A binary decision.
Bits and pieces in byte sized mouthfuls
Communion wafer chips and Mother boards.
Upgrade. Download. The second coming version 1.0 in a zipped .avi file.
Surf the web and catch a tidal .wav by accident
Stolen fire. A few moments in the monitor's glow.
Gates fiddled while Nero burned rom.
Networked fishermen pulling their catches from
Server secured LAN-scapes.
When God closes a door, he opens a Windows.
Darwin meets chaos theory best two out of three
Either way, the chimps win.
Pierce my side and I bleed technicolour.
Crash. I pray the surge bar functions properly
Our Father who art in
Will I Ever Know?What is this feeling?Will I Ever Know?7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Every time I think about you,
Every time I talk about you,
My heart races.
My mind wanders.
I cant think straight any longer.
I get lost in my mind.
I dont know where I am.
Dont know if I feel safe or not.
Im lost in this world of emotion.
I cant find my way out.
What is this all about?
I feel so many things.
I wonder what the future brings.
Will I ever really get to see you,
Listen to you?
Will I ever really get to
Hold you in my arms?
Will it only bring me harm
To continue thinking these things?
Will I only ever wonder?
Will it ever really happen?
I just wish I knew the answers
To all of my questions.
So many questions.
Is it too many questions?
Will I ever get answers?
I sometimes doubt my own emotions.
My own questions.
What is it I really feel?
Am I lying to myself?
Or is it the truth?
Is it both perhaps?
I dont know what I feel.
Joy, pain, happiness, sorrow?
Jealousy, envy, will I find out tomor
__. I'm sorry__. I'm sorry10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
By Tony Tran
I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when it was your 5th Birthday. I wasn't able to see the happiness striking across your face, the anticipation running through your veins at the point of opening your presents. The blissful joy of all your friends and family around you as they sang happy birthday, that day was a memory I never had the chance to remember.
I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you had your first day at school. It was like a new world for you filled with friendship, independence and above all, fun. I'll always regret not being there to pick you up after school and having you run into my arms at a thousand miles per hour, as though you hadn't seen me in years. Those days when you came home and started humming a harmonious song that you learnt, it was a tune I'd never hear.
I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you were eight years old and just learnt to ride your first bike. The breeze going through your hair as yo
ISP SongISP Song10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Oh my ISP
Why are you so shit to me?
Download speed is crap
You've put me on a cap
Can't upload a thing
Can't even post a link
Cannot play online
You've blocked my whole damn line
Your newsgroup really suck
No matter what, I'm stuck
Can't fetch my own emails
Get always "Login failed"
Pop-up ads amass
Makes my computer crash
Your homepage is so crap
I feel like in a trap
Your help page has two words
Now I shall get my sword
Oh my ISP
Why are you so shit to me?
The outlook's filled with spam
Tell me, is this a scam?
Can't visit online shops
Everywhere a new ad pops
No-spam filters stuck
I bet they're clogged with muck
I've had better days
Support is like a mime
Stays silent all the time
Before I shall leave thee
stop being mean to me
Let me play online
With broadband I'll be fine
I want some real support
In money I'm not short
I put me in your hands
Don't want my IP banned
Clear my mail from spam
Stop acting like i'm ham
If you will not do so
I'll switch to your competi
A FriendIf you will be a friend to me,A Friend8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
A comfort for my heart,
Then I promise to always be
Your little shining star.
Make me laugh when I feel glum
At tough times of my life,
And if you will be my drum,
Then I will be your fife.
If you'll be glad to see me
Whenever I pass by,
Then I will be the little pea
Inside your Shepherd's Pie.
If you will be hope for me
When I am feeling blue,
The favor will eternally
Be returned to you.
Come and watch the sun descend
And sit and wait for light
To rise into the sky again,
And stay with me all night.
I'll cry with you day and night
From dusk until dawn,
And my shoulder will be right
For tears to dry upon.
I will be your comfort
If you will be mine,
I will always support
And never malign.
I will always stick by you,
No matter what they say.
I will always pull you through
Each tunnel on the way.
You do not have to be rife,
Or a millionaire,
As long as you are in my life,
Then my heart I will share.
All I need is a great friend
To tell everything to.
If I ge
On ParabolaOn Parabola9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
With subatomic subtlety settling on his brow,
he said 'Time's a broken arrow
that points from then to now.'
Once a grain, I entreated him
to stop this flow of sand,
'You're immersed in the irreversible
until, entropical, I land.'
In that glass all is hours,
the busted bucket and the spade,
and each collapsing castle
that our spilt ice cream made.
Since his hands are tide
we can all be shore,
when the sediment slides
there is no more.