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About Literature / Artist Senior Member mohawk menaceUnknown Group :icontransliterations: transliterations
from one world to another
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Deviant for 9 Years
Core Member 'til Hell freezes over
Statistics 595 Deviations 17,970 Comments 694,275 Pageviews

Random from Inspire.

Dark Alley by burningmonk Dark Alley :iconburningmonk:burningmonk 412 34 Deja Vu by NanoMortis Deja Vu :iconnanomortis:NanoMortis 9,120 269 Ind slums by sheer-madness Ind slums :iconsheer-madness:sheer-madness 710 11 Techple by Draken413o Techple :icondraken413o:Draken413o 53 1 Journey Home II by JJcanvas Journey Home II :iconjjcanvas:JJcanvas 4,474 109 exploring by sangvine exploring :iconsangvine:sangvine 209 9 Forma 02 by korbox Forma 02 :iconkorbox:korbox 1,781 50 Drainer  by hikaruga Drainer :iconhikaruga:hikaruga 1,350 40 Parasitaere (second character) by nahtahliah Parasitaere (second character) :iconnahtahliah:nahtahliah 38 10 Glacial Burn by ChaosFissure Glacial Burn :iconchaosfissure:ChaosFissure 2,482 139 Three Kings by gidferrer Three Kings :icongidferrer:gidferrer 1,451 116 environment commission 2013 by TylerEdlinArt environment commission 2013 :icontyleredlinart:TylerEdlinArt 8,501 348 Morninglow by Miguel-Santos Morninglow :iconmiguel-santos:Miguel-Santos 5,270 1,086 Tidore by Chaerul-Umam Tidore :iconchaerul-umam:Chaerul-Umam 126 9 52 Hertz by wesleyayers 52 Hertz :iconwesleyayers:wesleyayers 656 61 Dark Star by alterlier Dark Star :iconalterlier:alterlier 149 7

Random from DDs I Featured

Literature
Heartmind
We lost electricity on the night you left me
and I spent the night curled up against the rain,
drinking in the slack of damp green winds
in our treasured driftwood home of mist.
I had to come to think of time
as a medium and my thoughts as
imperfect and cursive. It was a wrinkled medium,
a mediocrity of sunken breath: words condensing
into droplets that so contorted my teary lenses
that I couldn't tell that you were turning towards me
with a sound, the sound a book makes
when its leaves are rustled against the grain.
Tonight my body lingers on the edge of the ocean
like a gasp; New Jersey's throaty highways
bear my rosefelt thoughts and I can't miss them
like I miss the cradle of the river,
like I miss the firm grip of the circular,
like I miss the existential faith we had in nature
and her artistic lover to take us home.
:iconarchelyxs:archelyxs
:iconarchelyxs:archelyxs 213 87
Literature
the shut-in
where are these keyholes to the Equinox? the stars huddle
like alien nettle,
a gray chime of wrens scaling tree limbs and middays,   
  jittery
fruit;
Darwin has no lines for me
to speak
of.
i've sheetrocked the blistering ivies and blossoms.
i've glassed out daubers and frightening mollusks
pillowing through mud honey and minute old ruins.
intimate with my quiet desk, my paper hoard
i'm still a coward; the envelopes, Obama glass, the dozen unused spiral
diaries are menacing concoctions, minotaurs of lost dimensions.
i used to sleep in creek-beds.
:iconspoems:spoems
:iconspoems:spoems 106 78
Literature
a long awaited return.
It was raining when we landed.
A shock
to our sun-drenched systems,
stumbling with snatched-
away sleep.
Another bus, another train
whirring upon endless tracks.
We run, we flee through foreign streets –
disdainful eyes stare on,
watching fugitive
outsiders -
desperate for a taste
of home.
:iconLychalis:Lychalis
:iconlychalis:Lychalis 124 22
Literature
One Day I Shall Lay Down And Die
one day i shall lay down and die
and so for now here is my kiss, my golden-ness,
my forehead pressed against yours
like two strange animals lost on a plain of
red sand. one day i shall lay down and die so
now here, let these birds pick me apart,
show you it all, the torn underwear
and the girl gazing at the soft glow
on trees, the ferocious lion-love
weeping under the kitchen table. one day
i shall lay down and die
so for now i feast on beaches, your breath,
the flutter of my dress sore against my skin
someday i will find that peace,
plant a spring-flower deep in my heart, land one last cool kiss
on the bow of your mouth and slip away, i know that one day
i will lay down and die but for now
feel your fingers spread across my heart,
feel my roar in the night
:iconemilygolightly:emilygolightly
:iconemilygolightly:emilygolightly 327 50
Literature
Jadis (excerpt)
Excerpted from my book Her Unwelcome Inheritance, a story about Faerie, going off to school, family tensions, and what to do when people you respect reveal that they believe in something absurd and impossible.
She was burning
Burning behind walls of ice
Grey was on her lips, on her bare throat, on her exposed arms. Her eyes were glassy, the pupils fallen as if grown weary of staring straight ahead, and had, as the centuries passed, slid imperceptibly downward.
Her hands rested in her lap, grey with grey nails. Nothing set her apart from the hundreds on hundreds of other figures sitting in that crowded room, grey and still, clad in clothes deteriorated to hints of ancient splendor – in all that room only the gold shone unmuted beneath a fine breading of dust. They sat, row upon row, rank succeeding rank, gazing into the dark recession of the vast unlit room before
:iconMrWootton:MrWootton
:iconmrwootton:MrWootton 120 39
Literature
blue baby blues
i.
     peacock feathers of smoke
     brush over my calves
     the plumage working its way
     through the stockings & skin
     to nestle into the muscle
     where it will root like an acorn
     and grow into an oaken pair of wings
     to lift my feet from hardwood floors
     so i can dance
     with my knuckles brushing against the ceiling fan
ii.
     my heels rocketed from the floorboards,
     crushing my body against the whirling blades
     leaving a tremor that fights my hands
     as i measure tea with tiny metal spoons
     & ease the leaves into a hemp bag
     
:iconSatah:Satah
:iconsatah:Satah 134 30
Literature
choke
I collect things
they may resemble some of your traits
or be loosely associated to those things
that moved you,
I worship these little cadavers,
they rot out my heart,
send me to an earlier grave.
I collect things
and become them,
dirty artifacts to guide me through
life,
dirty emsembles to bless these
storms.
But
I'm going to get over you
for once and for all
and
collage new collections
to richer
the consequences.
:iconPiscesandthediamonds:Piscesandthediamonds
:iconpiscesandthediamonds:Piscesandthediamonds 183 71
Literature
THAT Woman
     First they said, "No wind chimes outside the cottages. Three warnings will be given, then you are subject to eviction."
     My Granny said, "Humph. I like my old bamboo windchime. I can't even reach it no more to take it down. It's gonna stay, dammit, and I will too."
     I told Granny, "Not if they evict you, you won't. I can take it down."
     She looked at me over her reading glasses, with that Look she has.
     "If anyone's evicted, you can go with em, Sonny. I'm stayin put. Me and that damn windchime."
     I said, "Granny, I don't even live here. C'mon. It's just a windchime."
     She said, "And we're just a buncha old senior citizens in a QUOTE retirement community END QUOTE, and I, for one, am gonna keep whatever I want right here. Me included."
     I sighed. I know Gran
:iconxlntwtch:xlntwtch
:iconxlntwtch:xlntwtch 272 199
Literature
having been a baby
I am wine dried
on empty cups, made drunk by
what place the light has ever slept,
ever nestled my hand
as an instrument
in your hand, I can not sleep through a second language
I can not
limit the truth of expanding, of feeling like
the room is happy
to have
us
:iconlasagnabomb:lasagnabomb
:iconlasagnabomb:lasagnabomb 152 40
The Gap - Pages 20 + 21 by Peris-Productions The Gap - Pages 20 + 21 :iconperis-productions:Peris-Productions 808 202
Literature
A Meeting
You will notice first, the bone jutting
from my meat, it is called teeth,
These are my lips;
This, like so, is called a smile.
And then there are the fabrications that I wear
The layers of silk, of wool,
of iron air
(indeed there is an air that I am not quite there)
- And feathers I have wrapped into my hair
And Afghan pearls, and finally
My hands, hare-fleet, and meeting
yours.
:iconrober2:rober2
:iconrober2:rober2 160 28
Literature
saudade
Last week, you showed up with the thunder on my doorstep.
Your voice was so drenched with the rain that I almost didn't recognize the way you said my name. It hung in the air like an incomplete sentence, like something unfamiliar, like you were so lost from trying to find everything we left behind and piece it back together that you couldn't find me in your heart anymore. It was pouring and the power was out and I was so tired of watching the world fall apart from outside my windows that I let you back inside my arms and inside my senses, and your bones were shaking as you clung to me and told me how good it felt to come back home.
There was something forced in our actions, as if we were going through the motions of something we had practiced a hundred times before. Your lips were all orchestrated movements against mine and the arch of your back and shudder of your breath felt rehearsed, so that when you lay tangled and spent in my bedsheets I let my mouth wander the terrain of your sh
:iconSocraticSynapses:SocraticSynapses
:iconsocraticsynapses:SocraticSynapses 308 48
Daily Deviations I featured during my time as a volunteer and staff member.

52nd Street

Sun Apr 22, 2018, 10:58 PM

Listening to:


Toshiki Kadomatsu - 52nd Street

Skin by ginkgografix


22 days in...
I've been keeping up with NaPo just fine so far, but I think the ultimate reality that I'm coming to is that I still don't miss poetry, basically at all. I definitely feel like what I've written this month by and large isn't great compared to what I used to write when it comes to poetry, but also I'm not invested in it. The only thing really keeping me writing more poems at this stage is the fact I said that I was going to do NaPo this year. When I write stories, I want to write them, I want to put more effort into them, and I want to make them as good as possible, but I feel pretty passive about poetry, even now.

I guess the bright side is that having done this should make writing stories more fun, but it's weird becoming aware that you don't have passion for something that used to be routine. Someone asked me a few days ago if I missed playing clarinet, and the honest answer was that no, I don't miss it at all. I never enjoyed performing, I always found it stressful, even when I was as prepared as I could have been. 

It's really been a month for recognizing what I want and what I don't, I suppose. Outside of here on DA, there have been some unusual personal developments in my life, but I think things have finally started to settle down some, which is good. The two job thing has finally started to pay off in a big way, so even though I went a long while with horrible sleep habits, financially I am finally, officially afloat, at least for now.

How are we all doing?

Music corner:


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

Comments


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:iconsrsmith:
SRSmith Featured By Owner Aug 10, 2017   Writer
Thanks for collecting 'My Lucky Number's One'!
Happy Thursday! How's the universe treating you?
:)
Reply
:iconikazon:
ikazon Featured By Owner Aug 17, 2017   Writer
I think the universe has decided that this year's gotta keep me on my toes, as it has for everyone else, but all things considered, holding up pretty well! :) How are you doing up there?
Reply
:iconsrsmith:
SRSmith Featured By Owner Aug 17, 2017   Writer
It's definitely turned out to be one of those years, and it's only August! :)

Life's pretty good up here - no complaints. Working like a madman, which is keeping me a little too busy to do much of anything else, but as the saying goes, I'm making hay while the sun shines!
:)
Reply
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