b1gfan

...as long as I hold the string.

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My Other Name by b1gfan, literature

My Other Name

My Other Name Sometimes it is to set out forks beside each plate, or folding shirts first, dryer hot in the A.M. half-dark. Less often, thirsty from cutting trees back away from the roof edge, gutters clean. Today, the dishes of breakfast clean, draining, I angle each blind against the sun, sit then in the small cool room, feet flat upon the morning

The Crane Wife by b1gfan, literature

Forbidden by b1gfan, literature

The Last Speaker by b1gfan, literature

The Last Speaker

The Last Speaker Boa Sr, as you were known, your passing parts land from earth, earth from land, leaving no one to lay your names upon the stones. Now who is there to say, 'Mother – Mother the howling wind, Mother it has put night in my bones; am I scared? Is that all this is?' What should I call these biscuits? How will I ask for scissors without hearing you laugh at what you've spoken to yourself? How will my mouth open to fruit peeled by the tongue of its name? The sun is hot as turtle bones roasting in fire. The small boat of your sister's husband approaches. A tree has fallen, uprooted completely. I am folding m

Put some original text here by b1gfan, literature

Put some original text here

Put some original text here and then a body underneath. Put down that ants have gotten into the body, that the roses are red as humble ants storming for a kiss and the little legs of rain itself shall slumber light underneath each horse, each door, the dress, the grave. This is my sad sharp lettering, my downpour in the making – the mind brings the grave, sweet violets soup the beloved's bed, and we are motionless; we are stopped with sense; we are bodies within voices, the memory of glass. Dress some original text here. Put out a love to beat upon her door with its awful lettering, a kiss to horse upon memory lying there

Ademir Returns by b1gfan, literature

Ademir Returns

Ademir Returns A Brazilian bricklayer reportedly killed in a car crash shocked his mourning family by showing up alive at his funeral. – The Associated Press This is how we will speak of that day – We will say his legs walked him out of death. We will say his steps kicked their dust from the road into the sky, and the sky touches everything the road cannot. We will say we must sometimes go forward to get back, taking the hearts from these things as we speak. We will say we

Five Geisha and a Cat by b1gfan, literature

Five Geisha and a Cat

Five Geisha and a Cat In a photo meant to entertain the turning centuries ahead, they wait, now as then, forever not looking at one another under a sky above. And though they may have left their flower town – not to go elsewhere beautiful, but gone all the same – five women of art, knotted by the beauties they dressed in themselves – on that day the smoke and perfume of their house was in them as they posed beside so intimate a fence. And did crickets leap in the dirt? Was the tree late to bloom? Look, and look, and tell me – are those two steps below them out in front or behind the teahouse where they

Up above by b1gfan, literature

Up above

Up Above i. Up above, birds in the tree, in the rain, in the night ii. Clouds moving across a field of moving clouds iii. Below the horizon, the ocean moon waves iv. With each gust, the chatter of leaves: passing time v. What about a cold night makes these lines so hard to finish? vi. Fitful leaves moving a March day vii. Tomcat sneaks a glance at me – sparrows take flight viii. 3:00 a.m. – my pen falls awake ix. Between fence posts the spider's web – still x. Watching puddles of sparrows bathing in evening sun xi. Encouraged by rain,

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My Other Name by b1gfan, literature

My Other Name

The Crane Wife by b1gfan, literature

Forbidden by b1gfan, literature

The Last Speaker by b1gfan, literature

The Last Speaker

Put some original text here by b1gfan, literature

Put some original text here

Ademir Returns by b1gfan, literature

Ademir Returns

Five Geisha and a Cat by b1gfan, literature

Five Geisha and a Cat

Up above by b1gfan, literature

Up above

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6 word story by wh0rem0ans, literature

molehills out of mountains by shimmytwist, literature

molehills out of mountains

* i divorced my husband this summer it was a long time coming he took the baseball bat, the leather belts and the children that have his hair or his eyes (some of them are yours) i kept the guitar and the cookbook and the bruises (some of them are yours as well) my husband now lives with a woman whose lips are shaped like half-eaten olives they have that in common. i haven't gone out on a limb ever since i broke my arm though the pine is still there with the empty nest i go every day and check the hollow, but all i find is hard amber, eggshells and not a word from you. not a word from you.

Deviation Spotlight

The Crows of Mumbai by b1gfan, literature

The Crows of Mumbai

The Crows of Mumbai November 2008 The crows tell the story as the story is told of that day this way – honest as a bone in the throat – Was everything not just as it was when, perched in tulip trees above the street and skipping from curb to fence, we bawled our warnings to warn you? Dark from the sea, The Unwelcome returns, we screamed – Hear how you must run to the shrine of Mumba Devi, deal her garlands of jasmine and pink lotus, lay them at her feet. Were we not crying all we knew? Hotels will burn; bodies fall. Do not leave your room – open your door to no one. And when your bodies, bloated burnt, lay down at ou

The Crows of Mumbai

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Deviation Spotlight

Unseen by b1gfan, literature

Unseen

Unseen Under the paint is paint – a portrait under a patch of grass, and under that an unfinished commission perhaps: a banquet amid ruins or half a winged Shedu guarding an archway over which storm clouds once lingered, pregnant with malice and lightning, before the revolution’s heroes gave their ground to baskets standing lustrous in lamplight, presumably full of casabas cut to celebrate the suicide of a king. And under each delicate stroke we are looking for hints of a mark or a line, looking for little things to tell us the rest of what we don’t yet know to ask, watching the Masters revise their canvases a

Unseen

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Deviation Spotlight

Tiki Bar TV by b1gfan, visual art

Tiki Bar TV

b1gfan

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About b1gfan

Artist // Student // Literature

United States
Deviant for 13 years
He / Him

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My Bio

Current Residence: The State of Euphoria
deviantWEAR sizing preference: Size is an illusion
Print preference: legible
Favourite genre of music: Who can give a response to this...honestly.
Favourite photographer: him, her, and...you know...others
Operating System: I don't use a system, I prefer a regimen.
MP3 player of choice: iTunes
Skin of choice: Mine, unless of course you have the urge to share yours.
Favourite cartoon character: Lupin III
Personal Quote: puppy snack. The and the ate a girl

Favourite Visual Artist

Again.....honestly!

Favourite Movies

The Big Sleep, at least one other you might be able to guess.

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Benny Carter, Avenged Sevenfold, Jonathan Coulton, Les Baxter, Si Zetner, Van Halen, Ugress

Favourite Books

Oh God, seriously?

Favourite Writers

Whomever I am reading at the moment - unless it's Barbara Kingsolver. Never ever Barbara.

Favourite Games

NHL 94, King's Bounty

Favourite Gaming Platform

Playstation

Tools of the Trade

pens, paper, and paradox

Other Interests

More than could posibly be good.

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DeviantArtistQuestionnaire. by b1gfan, journal

DeviantArtistQuestionnaire.

Aug 7, 2015

Tongue tired, arms spread aloud, these words wrong me in the best of ways. How long have you been on DeviantArt? Longer than I thought I would be. What does your username mean? I like to think that it means I don't like being used. Describe yourself in three words. Fictional, officer, mushroom Are you left or right handed? It depends on the king I'm serving. What was your first deviation? The standard one. What is your favorite type of art to create? heART. If you could instantly master a different art style, what would it be? The lost art of serving up a steaming mug 'o' rococo aikido cocoa. What was your first favorite? Mandarin ora

#HaikuPoetryDay Finches line a wire – thin whiskers watching from below.

Apr 18, 2015

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And a Delightful Valentines to You... by b1gfan, journal

And a Delightful Valentines to You...

Feb 15, 2013

Bar Napkin Sonnet #11 By Moira Egan Things happen when you drink too much mescal. One night, with not enough food in my belly, he kept on buying. I'm a girl who'll fall damn near in love with gratitude and, well, he was hot and generous and so the least that I could do was let him kiss me, hard and soft and any way you want it, beast and beauty, lime and salt—sweet Bacchus' pards— and when his friend showed up I felt so warm and generous I let him kiss me too. His buddy asked me if it was the worm inside that makes me do the things I do. I wasn't sure which worm he meant, the one I ate? The one that eats at me alone? Bar N