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About Varied / Hobbyist blobbikinsUnited States Recent Activity
Deviant for 11 Years
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Newest Deviations

Unseen Hands
The sleet of time crackles and
cackles at the ground around little, little
The grass receives the blast serenely
as shards of ice nestle in my cap,
then begin to erode away my face
as the hourglass turns
and the beads try to fall upwards.
But there are no fresh starts here,
no unseen hands.
So we let ourselves get whisked away,
bit by bit,
and walk on with frosted tops.
:iconblobbikins:blobbikins 0 0
i think of many things when you say "sprawl"
sprawled on my bed
all acute angles of knees and hips and elbows and shoulders—
less of a sprawl than a ball, that is—
but sometimes i'm sprawled, limbs straight out as i try to make myself vulnerable to the world
and then curl back up again because i can't take it,
can't take the risk of maybe the light falling from the ceiling onto me
or something less tangible puncturing me;
in any case i can't take it.
why is it that everything takes one direction in my head
and when i leap off the bed
and start to crazy write with no capitals so it feels more like i'm writing from kerouac's SHEER MAD JOY
it all goes to shit?
or not to shit, but goes in a different direction,
diverges from what i thought was a one-lane one-way road
like the one i see
sprawled out below me
when i stand on my eleventh-floor balcony.
see, there's another one:  urban sprawl.
an idea i have lived with all my life but which seems to fade into a vagu
:iconblobbikins:blobbikins 0 0
On Thursday, an early end to the workday and a dinner that's just out of their price range unfailingly follows a poor excuse for inexplicable credit card charges.  An entire Sunday spent watching black and white movies only comes after an entire Saturday spent apart.  A meticulously-picked-out bouquet delivered to Joel's desk before he even gets to work on Tuesday morning is a subtle yet blatant answer to the pillow-muffled question of eight hours previous:  "Why were you out so late?"
William's honesty gives away his deceit, and that is why Joel will eat his overpriced foie gras and snuggle with William on the couch as Cary Grant's light flickers over them and get a vase and water for the flowers the second he sees them.
William is stupid, and as long as he knows that, Joel feels safe.
:iconblobbikins:blobbikins 0 0
sprawled under the midmorning sun,
breathing the dew-vapor of freshly mown grass,
books sprawled on our chests.
we fade in and fade out
with the sticky exhaustion of doing nothing.
:iconblobbikins:blobbikins 0 0
She is weary with fifteen years' worth of cares upon her shoulders, her back, her mind.  The whole world's pain settles over her every time she closes her eyes or muffles her ears or has even one moment to herself in the 3 a.m. quiet of her room.  Sometimes it takes the form of a lump in her throat so big she feels like she can't breathe, but still she refuses to let the pain come out of her eyes.  So she washes it away with the burning pain of her parents' liquor cabinet down her throat and, more often than not, the burning pain of it coming back up again.  She battles it away with fists to the walls and blades to the thighs and never considers that she is not the only one.
Because he feels it too.  He feels it because of her.  And he blows it all away like the smoke from every cigarette he has pressed his lips to, pretending it was her mouth, and every one he hasn't, every single last one from the first his stepdad gave him
:iconblobbikins:blobbikins 0 0
a calling
my salient veins say
they want to be split into
misaligned bloodlines
:iconblobbikins:blobbikins 0 0
me at fourteen, fifteen
me at fourteen, fifteen
can't help but want to be seen
in a new way.
okay, so we have everyone saying,
"are you really bi?"
and there's the hair cropped short,
and the alcohol to try,
and as a last resort -
let's feel like shit
because you think that
no-one's looking yet.
so there's sad poetry
and mad poetry,
and night after night alone,
because what else is there?
who else is there?
yeah, you have friends, but
you're still clawing at empty air
for somebody, anybody else to care.
are you rolling your eyes yet?
scrolling up behind your glasses to
the last story you heard about
the hard-knock life
for a kid whose life
really wasn't hard?
that's what
me at fifteen, sixteen
was doing.
me at fifteen, sixteen
finally saw that
me at fourteen, fifteen
just wanted to be seen,
new way or not.
just wanted to be seen,
and me at fifteen, sixteen
got over that.
but what about now?
can someone tell me how
to deal with those
"me at fourteen, fifteen" feelings
at eighteen?
at eighteen, when I don't fee
:iconblobbikins:blobbikins 0 0
It Is All Fine and Good
It is all fine and good to part the fog with
at a time
while your other hand and your mouth are occupied
with a saltfatladen snack,
To let the sun shine down on those
poor huddles of bones and sweatshirts
so that they let out hoarse jubilations
and praise you for the precise length of
of your weighty watch,
To smile down benevolently and obliviously
as they are scorched
and their cries of glee turn to cries of pain,
And they blame you once again.
It is all fine and good.
:iconblobbikins:blobbikins 0 0
A tumble of water,
Sulfur-tinged, gulf-impinged;
An outflow of molecules
upon molecules upon molecules
gripping each other by the
tips of their fingers
and somersaulting into a
summery street.
The morning raises them to the sun.
:iconblobbikins:blobbikins 0 0
Single-Legged Soldiers
Grandma's knitting needle:  clack, clack.
Crossfade to the whirring machinations of
the marching needle,
Stepping in time with scurrying fingers.
Minty tooth-decay-preventing chewing gum chatter and
railings clanging against hangers
drown out the cyclic stamp of these single-legged soldiers.
Peeking through the hole left by a dropped stitch,
The world is not as clear.
:iconblobbikins:blobbikins 0 0
Monkey Mind
An inundation of vapid thoughts
flows down a path
insidiously eroded by what started as a trickle.
I am not enough against this inane flood.
I am not the others,
The undivine Moseses
who part their own waters
and live in between them,
Above them.
As a tiny token, a worthless gewgaw,
Perhaps my monkey mind can
send a few bubbles up to the surface
while the cotton candy edema suffocates me
and I frantically flail my arms:
A final effort to be more than just a glucose crystal
in this painfully sweet sea,
Swept away and then ignored by those who are
:iconblobbikins:blobbikins 0 0
Verre Vert
He lived with green glass.
The smashed green bottle bleeds as darkly
as his head next to it.
The occasional head turns to
the wall of green windows
across from his green window.
Finally one sees and opens its mouth
and squinches its nose
and twists its eyebrows
and widens its green, glassy eyes.
It looks like the blown green sculpture
gaping on a shelf high, high above
where his head had reached when he stood,
Its abstract twisting giving way
to images of horrified death-seers
like the shadows of a cloud's surface.
:iconblobbikins:blobbikins 0 0
She sits, sunken,
All slackened jaw and bowing spine and withered thighs,
Skin spreading across the easy chair
almost like a cold teabag, one day old.
But even a seaful of hot water
would do her no good.
There once hung a canvas on the wall behind her,
Smeared in a shade that she called green
and they called blue.
They said the same about the beach,
How it smelled like rotting fish
when all she could smell was summer
and learning to stop ice cream dripping down the cone.
She eats ice cream perfectly now.
:iconblobbikins:blobbikins 0 0
It was a humid night, the kind where the drizzle seemed to just swirl in the air around them rather than fall to the ground.  Strands of her hair stuck to her face.  He swept them from her cheek with his thumb and brought his lips to hers.
"You want to know something really sad?" she asked afterward.
"That was my first kiss."
He looked surprised.  She started to explain, to make excuses, but instead he just kissed her again.  "That was your second kiss."  And again.  "That was your third kiss."  And again.  "Your fourth."  Again.  "Fifth."
It became a thing.  In the morning, before class:  "Twenty-seventh."  In the cinema, during a bad movie:  "Sixtieth."  Under the covers, breathlessly:  "Hundred and eighth."
It was a humid night, the kind where the leftover day-heat on the asphalt made the night rain turn into steam.
:iconblobbikins:blobbikins 0 0
Another Sunny Day by blobbikins Another Sunny Day :iconblobbikins:blobbikins 2 2
Tiny Shocks
My fingers are magic wands.
Tiny shocks
reverberate through them on impact
as they trampoline.
They flip a switch.
The electronic wiring sucks in a breath
and gives a mewl before it
turns itself off.
The crack of the bottlecap,
The rush of bubbles
through the liquid that traps them,
Make sounds like a game of
against the dark quiet of the room.
A shimmer of soda
crashes against my teeth like waves on rocks,
Pulses in my gums,
Glitters in my gullet.
And again.
:iconblobbikins:blobbikins 0 0

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Project 52 Photography Challenge
Every year, a lot of photographers attempt to do Project 365 (take a photo a day for a year). Unfortunately, life and difficult schedules make it nearly impossible to stick to taking a photo a day. It's always a goal worth shooting for, but it can be a bit too much pressure for some!
As a response to those concerns, I present to you the Project 52 Photography Challenge.
Challenge your artistic skills and commitment to your craft and walk away with a year worth of memories and experience that will last a lifetime.
The basic gist is this: Find a theme, subject, photography genre, and style that you want to explore for a year. Take a photo a week and post it every Tuesday for a year and whoever rocks the most in the end, wins!
Start Date
January 1, 2010. You have a month grace-period (to give everyone a chance to hear about this), so the latest you first start posting is actually February 1st.
If you start a bit later, still start posting in Week 1. You have to have a pho
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New Contest - ***NATURE RECLAIMS***
We may think we are the dominant ones on this planet but left to her own devises, nature will always break through our barriers of bricks and mortar and reclaim her land. I have always loved the atmosphere of wild and overgrown places, be them rooms, buildings, objects, gardens, landscapes...anything really.
So, basically, the requirement is wild and overgrown but I will leave you to interpret and translate it how you wish.
All mediums are accepted - photography, photo manipulation, digital art, traditional art, fractal, poetry, prose, sculpture and crafts.
More details will be added to my journal asap!
*I will accept NEW WORK ONLY, submitted from today's date - 6th Jan, and only ONE entry per artist.
*Please NOTE me with your entry.
*I would appreciate it if you would mention that your work is an entry to the Nature Reclaims contest with its comments.  
*Entries will be added to the Ent
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'Tis the Season by SoChic28 'Tis the Season :iconsochic28:SoChic28 52 24 058 : sleep overdose by apple--juice 058 : sleep overdose :iconapple--juice:apple--juice 1 1 I'll Give You The World by haiku-loves-yuri I'll Give You The World :iconhaiku-loves-yuri:haiku-loves-yuri 183 59
His agile fingers do not stumble
on the keys. Rivulets and streams
of music tumble round his themes.
His flashing fingers seem to jumble
Half lives of melodies. In his schemes
He is transcribing the motions of his dreams
No need for him to fumble. His muse
Has spoken. It will be so.
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Juxtaposition Photography Contest cool prizes.
:icondeep--blue: :iconratchetnclank: & :iconmads-mikkelsen:
Are holding a new kickass contest. The theme of this contest is:
We wanted this theme becuase its not a usual theme. I myself haven't seen a contest with this theme yet. Another reason is that we wanted to give all you amazing artist a chance to try something new. So enter this and you might be the happy winner. :D
jux⋅ta po⋅si⋅tion
Show Spelled Pronunciation [juhk-stuh-puh-zish-uhn] Show IPA Pronunciation –noun 1. an act or instance of placing close together or side by side, esp. for comparison or contrast.


:bulletred: Only photography is allowed.
:bulletred: One entry per person.
:bulletred: Deadline 31 March 2009 That gives you a month to shoot some new photographs, if you need or want to. (this might change, but only with more time to enter not less.)
:bulletred: To ent
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behind by markeatworld behind :iconmarkeatworld:markeatworld 1 2
Coffee Addicted
:coffeecup: :
Coffee and chocolate 3 by skitel88 Coffee Jar by mobetter  coffee and chocolate by MorkOrk a sackful of coffee by MorkOrk White coffee III by Emielcia White coffee I by Emielcia coffee II by SuzyTheButcher :thumb90213119: Time for Coffee Break by ninazdesign A cup of coffee by shhilja Coffee Set 011 by Lestrovoy simply a coffee by rikigurl14 one more cup of coffee by estellamestella Coffee V by uswcm :thumb62369717: Coffee I by CelticDancer  time for coffee... by MorkOrk Coffee Time by PhilipCapet Coffee time .. by sara-m Coffee by veryangelic Coffee by Kiesath Coffee IV by uswcm coffee by BitterZucker Coffee II by uswcm Coffee. by Fantasifull Coffee Collection by Cizie cup of coffee by MorkOrk coffee time 2 by MorkOrk Coffee III colour by uswcm coffee by Soul-Darky Love for Coffee by dareme cup of coffee . by johnberd :thumb96941587: coffee by Tagirov coffee by SawsaN-0 Coffee Beans 1 by sugendran  Coffee Beans by sugendran .coffee by fugit Coffee by whitefrosty Cup Of Coffee by black-dollie :thumb72095318: International House of Coffee by germancars :thumb89629593: Morning coffee by danny-lad :thumb75747226: :thumb92147663: Coffee and Cigarettes. by bohemianpoets :thumb56239557:  :thumb721
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New Contest for all Visual Artists and Writers
I have decided to hold a contest.  It will have several categories in which you can enter.  You can only enter each category once.  You can enter every category if you wish.  There will be a winner in each category and an overall winner.
I am looking for people to help judge and for people to donate prizes.  If you are interested in either, you may not compete in the contest.  Please send me a Note with details if you would like to assist with prizes or donations.
The theme of the contest is "Aching to Act".  You may interpret this in anyway you see fit.
The categories are as follows:
:bulletblue:Photography ~ Minor alterations are permitted, but this must be a largely unadulterated photo.
:bulletblue:Traditional Art ~ A sketch, painting, sculpture, etc. That has been uploaded to a digital file.  No electronic work may be done on this piece.
:iconvertigoart:VertigoArt 40 25
Carbon Hoodie by deviantWEAR Carbon Hoodie :icondeviantwear:deviantWEAR 274 215
To live without profanity is to die from dull insanity.
:iconopalmist:OpalMist 6 8
TardGrinn aka :dummy: by katzypotter TardGrinn aka :dummy: :iconkatzypotter:katzypotter 188 71
Sometimes we're poaching,
we're poaching it all,
and all of us are hoping,
we're hoping you blow it.
We would love nothing more than
to see you explode for
absolutely no reason
to the ignorant observer.
We would like to propose
a toast Hoorah Three Cheers
We're driving down your spirits today,
and when you wonder and begin to ask why
remember to stop and realize that you should
not be asking those kind of questions if you
ever hope to be satisfied with the world around
asking why is the same thing as wanting
to continue
asking why is the same thing as every
other thing
asking why not is the best thing of all
one day you will begin to
no longer understand
that is the day we are waiting for.
That is the day you can expect our call.
We hope you brush your teeth before you go to bed.
We hope you pray to some sort of God or maybe even
to a firm belief in the absence of one.
We hope you never remember what you ate for dinner
last night.
We hope you sometimes wa
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House M.D. font by Cosmomouse House M.D. font :iconcosmomouse:Cosmomouse 1,360 434


Richard by AmazingA Richard :iconamazinga:AmazingA 8 6 Approaching Infinity by AbsolutHam Approaching Infinity :iconabsolutham:AbsolutHam 1 0 Moodscapes Calendar 2012 by mnoo Moodscapes Calendar 2012 :iconmnoo:mnoo 60 15


:iconcmcc: :iconauroille: :iconbuildthestars: :iconalecbell: :iconwordspill: :iconunpredictably: :icondecaying-froth: :iconxpicturez: :iconailzsuixide: :iconhouzukimaru: :iconkanemotri: :iconerror732: :iconnotoday: :iconholyjamiellama: :iconmisakuroth: :iconmarzie-x: :iconeyexankle: :iconruffeh:


  • Listening to: Power and Control Marina and the Diamonds
  • Reading: Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman Haruki Murakami
The way my room is configured means that when it's really windy and the window is open and I'm lying on my bed, it sounds like the wind is howling through my walls.



Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United States
My ideas look a lot better in my head than in the real world, but I try.


Add a Comment:
FallingAsleepTonight Featured By Owner May 2, 2012   Writer
Clicked on "random deviant" and it sent me to you!
I write non-melodramatic free verse poetry, something that (I hope) people can find enjoyable even if you aren't a lit fanatic (just in case you're interested):P
blobbikins Featured By Owner May 2, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
We seem kind of similar, actually (in age and writing preferences though maybe not so much in style)! Thanks for stopping by—I hope you had time to check out some of my stuff too =)
FallingAsleepTonight Featured By Owner May 2, 2012   Writer
Sure thing ;)
ISC-Veritas Featured By Owner Sep 28, 2010
this is issie's, chloe's and steph's account :DDD
(but this is steph speaking)
blobbikins Featured By Owner Sep 28, 2010  Hobbyist General Artist
ISC-Veritas Featured By Owner Sep 28, 2010
blobbikins Featured By Owner Sep 30, 2010  Hobbyist General Artist
yur mean
(1 Reply)
blobbikins Featured By Owner Sep 28, 2010  Hobbyist General Artist
And you look like that emoticon I CAN'T REMEMBER.
AlecBell Featured By Owner Aug 24, 2010
I'm pleased you liked Sight Discovered. Thanks for adding my poem to your faves :heart:
blobbikins Featured By Owner Aug 26, 2010  Hobbyist General Artist
It's no problem - you deserve every fave you get (and some more)!
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