Shop Forum More Submit  Join Login
About Literature / Professional Official Beta Tester Josh27/Male/United States Groups :iconsci-fi-future: Sci-Fi-Future
It'll be the future soon.
Recent Activity
Deviant for 10 Years
7 Month Core Membership
Statistics 744 Deviations 4,447 Comments 40,264 Pageviews

Random from Ars Poetica

the burning lights show
seven p.m. and the sun hasn't set yet:
a sure sign of survival;
you think your performance wasn't half bad today, you could have
even passed for a human;
the voice tells you with unprecedented urgency
to stop freezing your ass off and take that bus; not that it goes
anywhere you know,
a thousand tiny suns explode; the christmas tree just
                                                                           burned up;
tangerine rinds and plastic needles ground into the
shit-stained snow; there is a part of you
sniffing glue and bleached
soviet ceilings that you'll never be able
to explain to anyone else;
symbolism is stupid, you think,
you wish the world would shut up its jaws because thoughts
tighten dryly in-between your scarred brain tissue; there is still
some part of you protruding like a f
:iconghostinafog:ghostinafog 17 4
38. Burning Up
It traces the words that escape his lips
And outlines the touch of his fingertips;
It lives within his striking dark brown eyes:
A blazing fire that never dies.
It laces the breath that he exhales;
His touch leaves delicate burn mark trails.
As his lips capture mine and the sparks erupt,
I wonder, "Why he isn't burning up?"
:iconthegirlfromindonesia:thegirlfromindonesia 13 20
the art of mattering
that morning, when her everything was trying to piece itself into somethings; when hours sleepless sizzled into fierce nights of rawness; when there's nothing to ease the pound pounding of shyness against two ribs that couldn't even repel the broken wonders of the human heart; 
she waited to(o) (the temporal rising into steadiness of charcoal lungs and tears and stars and loving and everything between) matter. 
:iconlittlemoonboots:littlemoonboots 25 4
You're the shape
in my peripherals,
tricking my eyes
and the ghosts
behind my eyelids,
playing my mind.
I pray for satisfaction,
and I grant you my pain;
you're the god whom,
when I'm drowning,
only gives me the rain.
And I guess
I'm the tape
over your mouth and nose,
keeping your breath
and the dead
weight upon your heart,
under your breast.
You yearn for satisfaction,
only taking the pain.
You're the god whom,
through the desert,
can't remember her name.
:iconfiaell:Fiaell 8 5
Before I Can Become a Writer
Dye your hair blue. Walk into school 3 hours late.
Flip off the head teacher. Get excluded.
Write about it. Scratch it into desks.
Paint it on the bathroom stalls with a marker pen.
Do it again.
Wake up at 6 in the afternoon. Chain smoke.
Write at 3 in the morning when the world is quiet enough.
Use too many metaphors about the stars
because the moon feels too close and
because it feels like the sky will fall down.
Buy a fountain pen that is way too expensive.
Don't use it. Lose it. Use a biro instead.
Use a pencil. Use anything you can find.
Talk to your friends in literary quotes
because you think it will make you sound poetic.
Like someone. Call it love. Write about how
your love will change the world. Don't stop until
you don't know how to think of anything else.
Watch him screw you over. Watch him screw her.
Watch him. Think about him. Tell him you loved him.
Don't mean it. You never meant it.
Choke down whisky. Choke down pills.
Tell them you're having a fantastic time.
:iconjaydanjercobain:JayDanjerCobain 13 8
Tobacco and Peppermint
We wait in the car outside,
my hand dangling from the window,
my fingernails kissed with fog.
Silvery curls of smoke
rise like a dragon's breath
from the thing between my fingers.
You look at me, horrified,
staring at the black and blue
stains upon my tongue,
the marks of damage
cutting deep into my skin,
deep beneath tissue,
deep enough to corrode my bones.
I'm living in someone else's death,
borrowing a pair of cheap, shriveled lungs
that rattle loosely like leaves
in my chest.
I exhale a fresh, decaying breath,
and though I try to be diplomatic,
I know in my heart I'm just mocking you.
"Those things are gonna kill you,"
you tell me, all sage wisdom and disapproval
and sudden concern for my well-being.
"It's six bucks for a pack of cancer."
I try to laugh, and cough
then laugh some more
at the fact that I can't breathe.
In a greasy ashtray, I stamp out
my last flimsy cigarette,
ash and sorrow lying dead
in the dimly lit embers.
If only I could stamp you out
as easily as I've stamped
:iconlittleblueraccoon:littleblueraccoon 39 27
death of impurity
gold liquid
poured over alabaster faces
expressionless desires
hid within our chameleon heats
ever changing
with the tides
shimmering across the plains of the moon
every crater and hill
the imperfections that make you
utterly perfect
and desirable
with gold-leaf skin
and sterling smiles
where my black and white soul
longs to reside
in the recesses of your mind
forever there
like the moon we see
hung in the void
stationary, silent, sure
always watching
waiting for the moment
in which our hearts meet
on the golden shores
of an endless sea of white eternity
and we say you've been my forever dream
the cliches we can't hide
behind silly smiles
but the gold slips like air between our fingers
and the white fades to black
as our dream gives a final breath
to the fantasy of our thoughts
and the white sea yellows with time
and our bright hearts are dimmed
as the gold liquid melts to our skin
and draws every imperfection
that makes us us
and they say 'they will never last'
so the gold burn
:iconmycrimsonheart:mycrimsonheart 1 3
[there's a loudness] you exude. i don't
think these wisdom teeth ever got pulled out
or cared for. while
you only listen to classic rock
brahms's hungarian dance no.5 &
sometimes the woodpecker
trying to work its way
into your heart. i bet
you are less confident than you seem. i
bet you carefully fold
your apostrophes,
that your lonely nights are nothing
more than salty alcohol & teaspoons
of self-pity.
as the violins grumble & louder, louder—
[i know] you wither, wish for the horned man in the night.
:iconforaoises:foraoises 16 9
dragonfly wings
i. There is an entire generation of humans who grew up learning how to be murderers,
learning how to wound creatures for an audience and a laugh, and oh
how they love to laugh, pigtailed executioners
and torturers of all that frail life
that could be contained in a quiet garden.
ii. They take spiders by their bellies and put them one each on two ends of a stick,
and they poke and prod and push until one decides to eat the other,
for there must be a duel, there must be a death, or there is no fun,
and the children will race off to find new things to hurt.
They take dragonflies by the wings and stick their jewel tails into electric sockets,
playing god in their pajamas, leaving peanut butter fingerprints
on the little pockets of heaven they find and fight over,
keeping the pretty pieces for their scrapbooks, like you could trap life
beneath scotch tape and label it between lines red-blue-red.
iii. Well maybe they know better, if you want to believe there's a muted brilliance
:iconneonsquiggle:neonsquiggle 46 20
Tomorrow, We Leave for Home
i drown in your --
synaesthesiac elixir (vivid angel lights)
and you ripple, jade, evergreen into
  an olden halcyon year; timeworn
you resuscitate me
  past, ambrosian, forgotten effervescence
head in the gossamer clouds,
a waterfall of moonshine
thieving stars;
beads of pixie dust condense on
  your coiffure of cinnamon; auburn; mahogany
        i'm engulfed
   harbinger of yesterday
whereas tomorrow, we leave for home
:iconaerode:Aerode 11 12
pedestrian gazer
plexiglass walls
on Gibbs street
allow me to spill over like rooftop smoke
crowning fourteen floor towers
so that i can haunt hazy skies
exist in pits of stomachs
i am already opaque
so let me climb pipes
reach extend and rise
i want to fly
:iconspellspeaker:Spellspeaker 11 3
her hair is the color of
ocean bewilderment,
and the setting sea is as
still as her newborn
her pinky has sold itself
for a tainted compromise,
and her soft lips
tremble at the creaking
of autumn.
baby blue blankets
are huddled with lowly
and she is your
she suddenly
pretend you're falling,
i'll be here to catch
:iconunseen-reality:Unseen-reality 12 12
Mature content
your mind is tossing on the ocean :iconsense-and-stupidity:sense-and-stupidity 8 13
Wish for it
we'll be whole forever
basking in this light
never glancing over shoulders
for the loss to come.
we can watch the skies-
I can look into
your eyes
and never think about who's
just beyond my gaze.
I can kiss your lips
your hands around my
waist, my hips;
we'll stay forever here,
so close
without the fear of pain.
:iconnaethebookaddict:NaeTheBookAddict 2 0
Progression, progression, progression
You are no where near me yet I can feel your breath on my neck;
the moist mist of your putrid c02 evade my nostrils like mustard gas.
and all I can do, and will do
is look out the window at the passing cars, blurring like a vomited
Pablo Picasso conception.
It makes me sick so I close my eyes and focus on the
:iconwithlove-fromme:WithLove-FromMe 6 13
Black liquorice roses
Pillow case fears are more than they say--
aching and engulfing, a sick triumph
keeping you awake.
It wasn't supposed to be like this, they said,
but who are they? Nameless faces in blurred automobiles,
passing you by,
and passing and passing and passing.
Do they still keep you awake?--
Those night time phantoms in their black Chevys and their nicotine smiles.
Black liquorice roses did well enough to pass the time,
but now time passes them.
And all you're left with are the ghosts of broken minute hands.
:iconrosella-of-daventry:Rosella-of-Daventry 5 9
This collection is reserved for writing that I find truly magnificent, that surpasses expectations, and captures something real, true, or moving.

Daily Deviations

<table class="f"><tbody><tr><td class="f grf-mirror" style="width: 386px; font-size: 9pt;">


My Work (As free downloads!)

:star::star::star::star::star-half:4.57 :star::star::star::star::star:5.0
© 2010-2018

A special paperback edition of "Selling the Sunrise" can also be purchased here!

On Amazon for $0.99: Selling the Sunrise Life at the Limits

Books For Sale


HORIZONS cover by creativelycliche

HORIZONS is a book of conceptual glitch poetry focusing on the story of CRESSIDA, an artificial intelligence program, and it's journey through it's new plane of sentience.

Purchase it digitally: Amazon for $2.99
or physical copies can be ordered from Lulu for $6.99 plus shipping.

The Queen’s Debt

The Queen's Debt by creativelycliche

In Rannawr, there is only one legend that matters. Lanis Soren, Queen of Thorns, once ruled a kingdom of startling wealth and power. But when she died, the world plunged into darkness.

Now Stassa lives in the ruins of that civilization, working as a sellsword to survive. When a wizard appears in town recruiting for a quest and promising untold wealth from the old kingdom, Stassa bites the hook, but she is destined for something much greater...

Get it on Amazon digitally or physically

10 Years

Wed Aug 8, 2018, 2:12 PM

What a difference a decade makes. Ten years ago I was Sophomore in High School, I had just started writing poetry, and I had never finished a novel manuscript. Since then, I have had the pleasure of meeting many, many talented and lovely people here through groups, FFM and NaPoWriMo, and just by being in the literature community. For all of its faults, dA has provided me with a safe, constructive place to let my writing grow.

I am a very lucky person. I have been featured by five different community volunteers with Daily Deviations, something that 2008-Josh would not have thought possible. I am humbled by the comments, time, and appreciation that members of this community have given me. I have posted over 700 deviations to this website (not counting the ones I've taken down) and somehow people haven't grown too bored with me (yet)!

I've also finished 8 novel manuscripts (okay, 7 and like nine tenths. I'll finish Unity someday soon) published two books of poetry and a little novellette. I'm not saying that that would have been impossible without this place, but it would have been a lot harder (and it probably wouldn't have been as good.) I guess, in my rambling sort of way, I'm trying to say that I owe a lot to this website, and especially to the literature community that has existed around me. So thank you for that. Maybe ten years from now I'll finally have convinced some poor sap to publish my books. 

Until then.


***(I don't think there's anyone around who would remember it, but in perfect fairness it's actually been more like 11 years, but I abandoned my original account and we shall not speak its name.)


creativelycliche's Profile Picture
Artist | Professional | Literature
United States
Hello! I'm creativelycliche, purveyor of the arts, well-established faker, and 'that guy with the weird sense of humor'.

You may have noticed that I write things. That might be why you're here, but that's none of my business. If you would like to know more about my writing, you can buy my books(for cheap!), visit my website, or like my facebook page. I do all my own stunts.

I don't recommend you follow my tumblr.

Additionally, I play video games. My xboxlive is a crazed rodent, and I'm better than you at Rock Band. It would be best if you just accept that.


Literature tag by NotAGoddess


My most recent contribution to the History Guy: (he mentions Abraham Wood at the end of the video, he is my ancestor)
I've been posting less here, but not writing less! I wrote another episode for the history guy about a little known Airborne raid in WWII:

I wrote another episode of The History Guy on youtube! Meet my 3x great grandfather...

Suffice to say it will take some time to get used to Eclipse... my current thought is that my profile is ugly and so are my deviations. (the absence of my poor lit tag :( )

More ideas than I have time to write. Maybe someday I'll be able to write everything I want to...

Praise for =creativelycliche

<table class="f"><tbody><tr><td class="f grf-mirror" style="width: 386px; font-size: 9pt;">

creativelycliche [has] a fiercely intelligent mind which shows in his work. -Aerode

I certainly think [he] ha[s] a wonderful talent... perhaps one I am envious of :giggle:. -Nullibicity

One of my dA literary heroes - friendlyneighbor

(In a review of Selling the Sunrise)
"I thought that life had devoured my romantic streak but then this little book of poetry made me cry and I realized that my flame still burns."



Add a Comment:
Readeroffate Featured By Owner 6 days ago
Thanks for the llama ^^
lemontea Featured By Owner Feb 3, 2019
cerealnovels Featured By Owner Feb 3, 2019
Thank you 😊 
SRSmith Featured By Owner Jan 27, 2019   Writer
Thanks for collecting 'Retroactive Futurism'!
Happy Monday!
cristell15 Featured By Owner Jan 20, 2019  Professional General Artist
Many thanks! by cristell15  
(1 Reply)
artisticandrealistic Featured By Owner Jan 19, 2019  New Deviant Hobbyist General Artist
thanks for the Llama!
rosiecrafts Featured By Owner Jan 19, 2019
Thank you for the llama!:) (Smile) 
defajoey Featured By Owner Jan 18, 2019  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks so much for the llama!! :)
(1 Reply)
Tenchi8 Featured By Owner Jan 18, 2019  Hobbyist General Artist
Hi there! Thanks for the llama. Here's one from me also. :) 
I'll be back to check out your literature later on. Just got home from work.
But I gotta get ready again for church service since I play keyboard tonight. Sweating a little...

Are You Happy XD  
(1 Reply)
oviedomedina Featured By Owner Jan 17, 2019
Thanks a lot for the favorites!
(1 Reply)
Add a Comment: