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About Literature / Artist Senior Member mohawk menaceUnknown Group :icontransliterations: transliterations
from one world to another
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Random from DDs I Featured

Mature content
Detergent and Deterrence :iconillicit-illusion:Illicit-Illusion 128 24
Literature
for a friend
The sky is captured in his eyes, clear and blue.
The weather etched smile is honest.
The slender face says sixty; it lies.
It is that and half again.
Knobby hands sun baked and brown
peek out from ragged gloves.
They seem part of the old split locust post
where they are resting;
one of the row of soldiers
that keep watch on their field and its occupants.
The smile broadens as I approach.
I help stretch the wire.
His archaic dialect fills the road
with cows and snow and the yankees
that his grandparents saw marching.
The hours pass pulled by the mule
he plowed with as a boy.
He mentions his wife
they'd been married almost 60 years.
She "took sick" and died (at her own hand)
some 15 years ago.
(it is sad what people must do to escape pain)
But he only remembers the little things
she did so often to help him
they are bittersweet candy.
I know he misses her.
I smile as we finish.
He offers to pay me,
but I refuse it.
:icon135711cal:135711cal
:icon135711cal:135711cal 166 33
Literature
Convenience
  Ducky Short usually avoided using 'convenience' stores. The floors were always grimy, the lighting was too dim for his tired veiny eyes, and the cashiers never spoke more than five words of English. But the thing that irked him most was how every one of them put the Ho-Hos on the very bottom shelf, and every time he would have to find a way to maneuver his long body and old rusty joints into a crouch just so he could reach them.
  He had been struck with a Ho-Ho craving as he was walking by, and since the only store nearby was a tiny convience store, he had no choice but to go in and claim his cakes. There was no controlling this sort of thing. 'Happy Ho Ho emergencies', his mother used to call them, God rest her soul.
  But Ducky hadn't expected a different kind of emergency.
  The bell on the door barely had time to jingle before it was drowned out by a frantic holler.
  "Freeze, everybody! I've got a gun, so no messing around!"
:iconcemetarypolka:cemetarypolka
:iconcemetarypolka:cemetarypolka 108 62
Literature
Wyrmling Ghostwrite
new millennium toothache
w feeder hand, aluminum
bubblegum knuckle muncher bumpin' phoenix plumage...
   & I rock the Rings, now!
supernova falcon flipper -
was-a-real-boy chicken shitter -
fist-fuck photon vision sifter -
  soullost, anon forgetter -
  so lost, rewind protector -
  dead princess bone collector
-
  hopelessly tethered to the Ghosts, remember?
    Nah, man, I don't know any of the Ghosts by name
   but I've been following the will'o'wisps
    chasin' knowledge, speed & blame
    tryin' to play that Martyr's game
    LOOP/LOOP/LOOP/LOOP/LOOP---FAINT
Inhale, exhale, cause & effect
momentum, inertia, stardust & breath

Sleep becomes Death...
I can only fathom three modes of the Dream:
get fucked; feign sleep; & cheat Doctor King -
the triumvirate stains Red, White, and Green,
all for Tide bleach and Amerik
:iconAPrattle:APrattle
:iconaprattle:APrattle 104 21
Literature
Of Half-Filled Words
She is not a flutterbird.
Her fingers are skittish,
her smile is not.
Do not fear that you will
drive it away.
Sadness is her fumbling limb.
It is unwanted, yet
necessary.
When it is January
she will tell you,
"I am still struggling.
And I am becoming so many people
all at once.
A conglomeration of beauty that
I have managed to mangle.
Please, do not be sad for me."
Sometimes her sorrow is
meant for you. But mostly her.
Those specks and spots
of ocean storm lulls
reveal her truths:
ones she does not want
to extract from herself.
Her heart is not a rabbit.
When it beats
faster, faster, faster,
you need not
run harder to catch it.
:iconHugQueen:HugQueen
:iconhugqueen:HugQueen 269 201
Literature
2nd person fiction and You
You like fiction written in the second person. You may not admit it to yourself, but deep down, you really do. It teases you with its confrontational otherness, its flamboyantly displayed post-modernism, its teeth.
Do not look at its teeth. You do not want to look at its teeth.
Fiction written in the second person and you have a long history of denial. At first, you were sure it couldn't be done. Then it was done, and it was done to you, and you liked it, too, but it was only the one time and you were kind of drunk. It was an experiment, and it was interesting as an experiment, but that was all it was.
Only, of course, it wasn't.
Fiction written in the second person has invaded your dreams, and what's worse, your sexual fantasies. You'd be picturing a luscious blonde, rubbing her rubbables, yearning for your touch, when suddenly a voice would pop into your head, calmly narrating what you were doing: "You are picturing a luscious blonde," the voice would say, "rubbing her rubbables. Hey
:icondanielzklein:danielzklein
:icondanielzklein:danielzklein 419 128
Literature
You Slept Through The Alarm Again - Little Aubade
If, perhaps, you had turned at that moment
and your hair had caught in your fingers,
the straw being fed into the spindle, struck
by the high, thin light of first waking, the whorl
of a single line descendent from the sun, born
watery from the gap below one velveteen curtain,
all of it staining over gold and dusty and slow,
the edge of your mouth might have met the edge
of my mouth, narrow gaps both without attention
opening—if, perhaps you had turned again,
your hand could have met the curve of my neck,
your canvas rough fingers tying knots of my hair
and I would have sighed, thick spreading in your ear
like the light itself learning to speak in tongues
you might understand—if perhaps you had
opened your eyes, squinting, eyelashes caged
together, it all would have been edgeless and bright.
:iconsarehptar:sarehptar
:iconsarehptar:sarehptar 151 58
Literature
dives and lazarus
the last time i saw you
i made sure to
keep my dress
on, kept
my distance as
we spoke from
across the room, land
locked and
the air discerning
and smelling
of vomit
" you don't have to be
so caustic
about this "
i am raw, in the
least
and it became winter
in the summer streaked room
we bathed in,
your mattress bare
and sullen
stains of hurt
and nights with other
women,
aging
in wild abandon, i left.
in fear of bearing your surname, i stayed.
:iconhypnicjerks:hypnicjerks
:iconhypnicjerks:hypnicjerks 204 132
Literature
Evangelos and that film from 1986
Evangelos and that film from 1986
I am not a fish.
My mother is a fish.
You should know, my great-uncle Peter
From Hungary has a daughter
With whom I fell in love when once
I was there
That time I braided her ashen grey hair
In braids
Two
My mother's best friend only spoke Italian
He did taekwondo, jiujitsu
And played Santa every year
He was Portuguese
I want to enchant you with my secret code
Once again it has to be said:
There is no story
The hedgehog is sleeping in the garden, his father and
The squirrel:
Today they are wearing
Winter scarfs
Instead of ties
They will hold session until deep in the night
About money of course
Maybe you should listen better
To the people
Their eyes
Because everybody has lied
to themselves some time in their lives
(original Dutch version: )
Evangelos en die film uit 1986
Ik ben geen vis.
Mijn moeder is een vis.
Je moet weten, mijn oudoom Peter
Uit Hongarije heeft een dochter
Op wie ik verliefd ben sinds die ene keer
Dat ik daar was
Toen heb ik haar asg
:icontrynke:trynke
:icontrynke:trynke 100 47
Literature
avalanche.
The Ogre rises up among its brother and sister peaks, the Monk and the Virgin, a craggy limestone buttress looming above most of the north-eastern part of the Bernese Alps.
The Eiger: 13,042 feet of sheer rock, cracks and treacherous ice-fields.
Many attempts to scale this uncompromising weather-battered mountain have been made over the years, but successful attempts didn't begin until 1938, with the brave perseverance of a team of four German climbers. As a twenty-year-old eager climber myself, I knew all the facts. The windswept North Face (Nordwand) was the height of all climbing careers when I'd been growing up. 1952 - the great year of the Eiger. In that year, twenty men made attempts on just the Mordwand - 'murderous wall' - alone, with eighteen of them making it to the triumphant peak. It was the year in which it seemed the hoodoo of the mighty Ogre was broken.
To a young Viennese piano-tuner, whose precise and delicate profession gave way to an intense, vigorous h
:icon91816119:91816119
:icon91816119:91816119 53 33
Literature
The Business
     Wolf stopped gnawing on his third plate of Lapin Bleu d'Auvergne and pointed at Deer with his fork. "The problem," he said, "is that you've got a bum deal going on with your agent. You're paying him far too much if all he was able to get you was public affection. I mean, there's what-- thirteen million white-tailed deer in the United States alone, right?"
     Deer looked down at his glass, which was half-full of some white wine. He was a little unsure whether or not he liked it, as he didn't really know what made wine good or bad or even what type of wine it happened to be. He'd looked at the menu, become flummoxed by the French, and had simply asked the waiter (in English) for something vegetarian with a suitable wine. This was his second glass or maybe his third; he'd already forgotten.  He swished it around a little.
     "Thirty million, actually," said Deer. "Not thirteen."
  
:iconfackeltanz:fackeltanz
:iconfackeltanz:fackeltanz 203 115
Daily Deviations I featured during my time as a volunteer and staff member.

A Veil Of Clouds

Time keeps flying whenever I'm trying to keep track of all the things that I've got going on in my life, and whenever I look away from one thing for more than a few minutes, it's like dozens of other things happen and suddenly days have gone by. This is a long-winded way of saying that stuff's been happening in my life, some good things and some less good things, but I think it's all par for the course for 2018, considering how all over the place this year has been.

I don't have a whole lot to say at the moment, so this will be short, but I've been browsing art a bit more in the wake of Eclipse going to beta, so I wanted to feature a few of the things I've seen and liked in the past month-ish. (Plus, it's an excuse to try the editor again. Feels great to use now that I'm used to it.)

Street

Morning Sea

Surface Breaks

deviantID

ikazon
mohawk menace
Artist | Literature
Hi there! I'm a storyteller of sorts. Here on DA, I was a gallery moderator from 2010 to 2011, a community volunteer from 2011 to 2012, and a staff member from 2012 to 2015. Feel free to say hi, I don't bite!

Deviousness Award

Deviousness Award
A deviant for nine years, ikazon is a monumentally influential member of DeviantArt. A champion of DeviantArt’s literature community, he’s contributed his own writing and journal skins to the community since he first joined DeviantArt. In 2011, ikazon became a Community Volunteer, shining a light on undiscovered pieces in both the DeviantArt related and literature galleries. His dedication to the community quickly made him a beloved figure on DeviantArt. Soon after, in 2012, he was hired as a full-time staff member, where he ran multiple community projects, such as the 2014 and 2015 Valentine’s Day Exchange!

However, ikazon’s contributions to the community extended past his time as a community volunteer and a staff member. From contributing journal skins to the CalendarProject to leaving encouraging comments for his fellow community members, ikazon’s supporting presence has been felt all across DeviantArt.

We’re proud to name ikazon as the Deviousness Award recipient for March 2016!
-awarded March 2016

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:iconneurotype:
neurotype Featured By Owner Oct 24, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
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:iconikazon:
ikazon Featured By Owner Oct 26, 2018   Writer
Eesh. I get the sentiment behind it, but that has to be a pain in the ass to deal with for the employees. :V
Reply
:iconneurotype:
neurotype Featured By Owner Oct 26, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
I mean, sure, but you'd think people could stop and think about the part where they're basically trying to get millions of people to tromp around in their dearly beloved's remains P:
Reply
:iconikazon:
ikazon Featured By Owner Oct 27, 2018   Writer
I mean, that too, but good luck getting people going to Disneyland to think. :P
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(1 Reply)
:iconbrennennn:
brennennn Featured By Owner Oct 21, 2018
Hi! :glomp:
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