our celestial bodiesI am my own solar systemour celestial bodies9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with a bucket on my head,
I wheel barrowed down ten story stairs last week --
trying to prove that I am not as alone as I feel.
'I was wrong', the sun slobs
behind curtains, wanting me to play
all these laughing games, while meteoroids orbit
the wire in my throat,
and I gathered up socks and shirts in plastic bags
week by week. This is a slow process
of climbing over your heart-hedge,
I am not there yet. I saw you staring
at the food particles on clean sheets.
I tried to explain -- I have problems under my tongue
but they sat under my fingernails instead,
the smell turned vile.
I am here still, you know,
in plastic cups that do not keep me safe
but I make-believe they do.
This is a climate change only half welcome,
the air conditioning angers the ten man band
hacked into my skull.
I've lost two pounds in ten minutes
trying to stop their drums,
these dancing digits and these shrinking arms --
they throw tantrums
and I wept a thousand chemicals to help you see
Imperial RhapsodyIMPERIAL RHAPSODYImperial Rhapsody9 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Based on the song Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. New words by Patrick H. Mines
LANDO: This is the good life
This is a fantasy
Working on Bespin
An escape from reality.
LEIA: Open your eyes
Stand up to these guys and see.
LUKE: I'm just a farmboy, I need some sympathy
Cuz who's my dad, I dunno
Little whine, little moan.
HAN: Anywhere the Force goes, doesn't really matter, to me. To me.
PIETT: Vader just killed a man.
Raised an arm up in the air
Now his life's no longer there.
Vader, we had just begun,
And now I've gone and lost the reb-el scum.
Didn't mean to make you mad
If I'm not alive again this time tomorrow,
There'll be a new admiral, as if nothing ever happened.
YODA: Too late, my time has come,
Sends shivers down my spine
Body's aching all the time.
LUKE: Goodbye everybody, I've got to go
Gotta leave you all behind and learn the Force.
PIETT: Vader, ooooooooo.
The Thing at the BottomThe Thing at the Bottom11 years ago in Children and Teen More Like This
The Thing At The Bottom of The Stairs
Or, A Discourse On The Monstrosity of Monsters
Welcome! Nice to meet you, dear. Come in, come in, don't just stand there hovering. Have a seat, make yourself comfortable, there's plenty of room. Would you care for something to drink? No? Settled then? Good. I suppose I should just get started with the tale, then, shouldn't I?
I'll begin it in my favorite way, with the words that begin all fairy tales, though this is not exactly what you would consider to be a tale of the fairies. If you'd rather hear something about them, then perhaps I'll send you to a friend of mine, who would certainly be better able to tell you about those. This is, rather, a tale of monsters, you see. Still here? Good. Then I'll begin.
Once upon a time, when I was a younger girl, my family and I lived in an old house in the city, which, as I came to find, was quite the haunted old mansion. My parents would often walk through ghosts, with nary a bit of realization, other
wirelessI.wireless9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we weren't looking for Kevin Bacon,
weren't trying to find a way--
it was just ten steps
to no one in particular.
looking for damn connections,
screw chaos theory.
I'm gonna find me some sense.
less than three percent of potential
rapists are willing to commit murder
if you are in a situation where you feel that such a person
committing such a crime on you is possible
Dissidia Quotes: SelphieSelphie TilmittDissidia Quotes: Selphie4 years ago in Profiles More Like This
2. Let's hit that PAAH-TAY!
3. Hehe! This is going to be fun!
4. Yes! I'm up next!
Low HP: You're not getting away from me!
Low HP: Now I'm mad!
Strong Opponent: Wow, completely different.
Strong Opponent: Ready or not, here I come!
Weak Opponent: Too bad I'm not going easy on you!
Weak Opponent: Alright! Your turn now!
Warrior of Light: Are you serious enough to be a warrior?
Garland: I'll be finished with this weakling soon.
Firion: Not too into the fight, huh?
The Emperor: Do you seek retribution?
Onion Knight: Try not to trip, okay?
Cloud of Darkness: Your happiness shall turn into despair.
Cecil: You certainly are cheerful.
Golbez: Do you have the fortitude for battle?
Kain: Remain cheerful if you can.
Bartz: I like sunny dispositions like that.
Exdeath: Love is meaningless before nothingness.
Gilgamesh: This isn't The End for me!
Terra: Let's do this together.
Kefka: I know a train you would simply love!
Cloud: Wow, sure are perky
GeishaGeisha9 years ago in Erotic More Like This
The smells of perfume and incense rake at the air. My hair flows down my back, no longer prim. I stand over the body of my lover. He is looking up at me, bewildered. A muted gurgle escapes his lips. He draws his last breath. I fix my hair. I reapply makeup. For what? Revolution.
So You Wanna Be a Writer?Many writers profess their desire to be novelists or poets, and sometimes even journalists, but very few--indeed, even those sitting with Creative Writing degrees, know what other options are out there for someone gifted with words. Your old Alma Mater wasn't lying when they said you could do "anything" with an English Literature degree, but they may have been leaving out much of the story.So You Wanna Be a Writer?8 years ago in Editorial More Like This
For writers, especially those trying to break into the publishing business, the world is a daunting (and often depressing) place. Securing a literary agent is almost necessary in today's oversaturated market and, while many publishers are still looking for the 'next big thing' or a new revival of the ever-dying 'literary fiction', just as many are happy to continuing publishing texts that make money. Do not lose hope, however! Publishing the Great American Novel is not the only way to call yourself a writer, and sometimes you can slip in through the back d
The BerlinerSick of writing about the pianist,The Berliner7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she leaves for Berlin and makes her
home next to the absence of a wall
She contemplates the American Embassy
and changes her cigarette brand
She sets out walking
and considers percentages of lives,
eats alone, begins to consider meat as flesh,
removes paintings from their frames
and in their place hangs mirrors
Calling home small voiced
she asks after family and friends
politely, washing dishes as she does so,
the phone in the crook of her neck
She makes no friends, does not make love,
resents nothing and leaves no
holes in people's lives
Puddled GasolineHear me read it! Puddled GasolinePuddled Gasoline4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Someone left the car on
with the garage door closed again;
streak the harsh winter concrete
as I breathe past the fumes.
at its finest,
or some other form of noise
I'm not familiar with.
He will not hear me screaming
when I tug open the door
and you spill out like a puddle
onto my freshly-buffed shoes,
because I will not be screaming
For the first time
in almost twenty years of marriage,
you've silenced me.
The Grammar GangstersBeware the grammar gangsters!The Grammar Gangsters7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The mafia of the literary underworld.
They saunter into stanzas,
Under their trench coats
Or in violin cases.
They can make you talk,
"With just a few well-placed speech marks,"
Leave you shouting! Where you should have whispered!
And pulp your bold statements into quavering questions?
They can, pepper, your, phrases with, commas,
Or bring your piece to a dead.
They'll trap you (between brackets)
As you - dash - to the exit.
Then: punch a blunted colon
Into the gut of your text
Force-feed you a poisonous semicolon,
Then hack/slash your work to shreds.
The grammar gangsters
Never leave survivors.
Readers discover the victims
In the back alleys of the library,
In a tommy-gun ellipsis...
dArama - ISSUE ONE - Love.dArama - ISSUE ONE - Love.7 years ago in Editorial More Like This
The dynamic between core staff, volunteer staff, and the community can at times be pure quality dArama.
It's worth noting that for years I've worked pretty hard to remain neutral on community politics. Today, I'm going to shatter that concept.
Needless to say, I am extremely politically aware of the inner workings of the deviantART community. I read *a lot* of journals, comments, forums, chat rooms. I have fake accounts. I spy.
But I don't spend my time talking politics, instead I focus internally at deviantART designing technologies and implementing understandings with core staff to address the issues I see pop up.
It's time to take a moment to be a bit more petty.
In the inner workings of our politics exists the soul of deviantART. What is this place? What was it meant to do? What does it do? What could we do better? And it's the politics that give insight into how well the greater plan is running.
There's $core staff who are employees or contractors and work 8+
AloneAlone7 years ago in Ballad More Like This
The room isn't spinning yet
I'll hold on a little longer
I'm blinded by love..
But, no. That's not it, I'm:
Searching for the answer
He doesn't understand.
I run, accelerate, floating on the clouds
Life flies by,
People come and go, unnoticed.
Stop. It's gone too far.
I'll find my place here.
Why am I not happy?
I miss you.
I want to notice you..
Will you notice me? Again?
He doesn't understand..
This rain wont stop falling.
The room isn't spinning yet
I'll hold on, just a little longer..
Mary WeathermayMary lays her head against the endless seaMary Weathermay8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
outside the intrusive grasp of irony and satire.
A longing crutch fused seamlessly to her brittle bones.
Fleeting tears transform into small blankets
of disconnected emotion wrapping around her face
woven in distilled comfort of unweathered purity.
Around her, scattered grains of sand tumble
like preoccupied friends oblivious
to the deafening blankness of a soul licked clean.
The constant family of seasons arrive
more prematurely each year to warm themselves
on the lingering flame of a candle unable to snuff itself out.
Waves crash relentlessly into her frail dreams
while the thunder screams quietly
to the lightning collapsing upon itself in loneliness.
A final animated echo of a photograph
discarded outside a memories crumbling door.
The lamented requiem of an ideal eclipsed in reality.
Farewell, FarewellFarewell, farewell little loveFarewell, Farewell6 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
How I wonder how you are
Far across the sea so deep
like a ship that's doomed to sink
Farewell, farewell little love
How I wonder who you are.
For the Good of the SpeciesFor the Good of the Species9 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
"It's your first day, isn't it?"
"Yes. Ah, actually, I'm just an intern. I'm supposed to be working with Dr. Simonetti."
"Simonetti? He's on the second floor. Just take those stairs, then follow the hall to room 216. The door says 'Director of Genetic Integrity', you can't miss it."
"Thanks! I'd better hurry, I'm almost late."
Paul tramped up the stairs, plastic soles announcing his hurry to everyone in the echoing, cold-walled office. The second floor had a carpet, thank the Presidency, and he was at 216 before he had time to process it. He wiped the sweat from his hands and knocked.
"Come on in."
Simonetti, a large man in a brown-mustard suit, looked up from behind the desk. He rose, shook Paul's hand; his grip engulfed Paul's slim fingers, wrapped around his whole palm. "The new intern, right? Great to have you, great. Always glad to see youngsters take an interest in their government. So many people are happy to just let us work that they forget there's no 'us' and 'them', you know
The Voicemail of GodThe Voicemail of GodThe Voicemail of God8 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Ever since I can remember, I have been one of those strange people who pick up pennies. I find them everywhere, on sidewalks, in stadiums, on the floors of grocery stores, in parking lots you get the idea. And it is a rare occasion indeed if I fail to pick them up. Most people, when faced with a copper portrait of Lincoln down by their feet, even if they dropped it themselves, will simply ignore it. After all, you cannot buy anything with one cent; why even bother bending over? I, on the other hand, like to think I am a little more practical than most. When I see one of those poor, unloved little presidents looking up at me, I have to admit that I get a little excited. Well, maybe excited is a bit strong, but you get my point. You see, when I see abandoned pennies, I see free money just waiting to be claimed. The only work required to earn it is bending over, and a simple motion of the thumb and forefinger. Yes, one penny is fairly useless, but I know that by
Tuesday AfternoonGOD:Tuesday Afternoon8 years ago in Scripts & Screenplays More Like This
Yes, hello again.
I'm sorry, my memory fails me. Which one are you?
Well, I was Martin Fry.
I'm sorry, those records are terminated. What's your number?
No, no, not your queue number. Your executive number, the eight-digits.
You expect me to remember that?
Well, it is within the seven plus-minus two limit, which you should achieve if you've reached up to level one. Or, are you the reincarnation?
Yeah, that's right. That's what I wanted to discuss with you.
Did you miss your stop?
I only sent you off a few hours ago.
Yes, my point exactly. What's the deal with turning me into a sea turtle?
You said you liked swimming, and that you'd like a long life.
Yeah, but their life expectancy from hatching is only about four seconds, innit? I was eaten by a gull after two. You do realise that the odds of me becoming an old sea turtle are about one
gomenasaioh I'm so sorrygomenasai5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
did I do something wrong
did I do something you thought your precious little idol could never do
I forgot I'm not a person
I'm an idol
something for all your little
jerk off fantasies
now I'll never ask you to "please be gentle"
now I'll never say "you're the only one I'll give myself too"
I forgot I'm a woman
I can't try and have a life
do anything but be a cute
cutout on the wall
for you to aim your
and now I'm RUINED
I 'm a slut
I'm nothing but my breasts
and my whimpering mewling cries
as you heave your obese corpse
(but I'm sure you'll lose the weight by then)
again again again
bate somewhere else you disgusting shit
make up your ideal woman and think about her
let me do whatever I want
I'm not yours
but my own
I 'd tell you to go
but you're already way ahead, aren't you?