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Literature
An old story
I stalked down the pothole-laden back road, avoiding the revealing light of the street lamps, and approached the house. “Tiara and Ingalls, been watin’ for dis night, my sweet,” spoken in a smoky whisper, foggy breath escaping from my lips. Her room’s window, second from the left, luckily only a single story building, I thought with a sly grin. Slipping through the gate without a sound, slowly creeping to the window, the glass fogging as a shaky hand is set on the dusty pane. Applying pressure and sliding the window gently to the side, it opened soundless and smooth. Pushing through the curtain I crouched on the sill. I peered into the darkness, focusing in on the dark shapes in the room I could make out the unmoving silhouettes against the walls. Slipping my lanky legs onto the carpeted floor I inched toward the bed step by step heart racing. I removed a bottle of chloroform and a rag from my hefty jacket. Dousing the rag in the thick smelling liquid I hovered over
:iconJooosh:Jooosh
:iconjooosh:Jooosh 1 6
Literature
The Sun and The moon
I am the sun and the moon
I wonder the existence of these beings
I hear the progress of the world screeching to a halt
I see the collapse and relapse of civilization
I want to sleep until the world dies
I am the sun and the moon
I pretend to care
I feel nothing at all
I touch the edges of these worlds
I worry that my light will give life to the wrong beings
I cry for my hateful strife
I am the sun and the moon
I understand the world’s hatred
I say the words of my belief
I dream of the world’s release
I try to destroy this life
I hope to live in solace
I am the sun and the moon
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Literature
Sparta, Kentucky
Standing alone on a dark street corner, the lights slowly flickered on
along the empty road. The once-dark figure was now
illuminated by the warm orange glow of the lamps. He glanced up at the
signs that adorned the only stop light in town, light washing over his
masculine features.  The signs read Tiara and Ingalls.
      "How long's it been?" He muttered to himself in a low harsh voice. His
eyes seemed to glaze over, lost in thought, as if dreaming of
something from memories past.
      "Eleven, long years ago, I stood here in this exact same spot. Why has it
called me back here? Is there some dark purpose?"
      The sunlight burned at the top of his freshly shaven skull. He
glanced at the street signs posted in the middle of town. "Tiara and
Ingalls. Every day I look at that sign, and every day it's the same",
he said as he stared with a blank expression of dull contemplation. "I
hav
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Literature
Living life
The life of a sponge is that of mystery. Sinking and floating, eating
what it may. You must follow the current, to where ever it may take you.
-exerpts from the journal of everything
The young man tall in stature and masculine in feature, stood upon
the rocks. Without purpose without meaning he dove in, and began to float
amongst the frosted white caps of the swelling sea. His body heaved to and
fro with the unrelenting sea. As the tide ebbed, he was caught upon the rocks
and once again stood against the skyline, the sunset leaving trails of red and
pink across the oceans surface.
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:iconjooosh:Jooosh 2 1
Literature
Fear
Waiting for it
My fear growing deep inside that this life is just a wisp of a dream. nothing more than an insane delusion of some mental patient or the dream of some child, more of a nightmare at times. All these people that I know, instantly falling out of existence, becoming nothingness. Except for her she will remain in the mind of this loneley dreamer, because she is his love his dream his desire, the one thing in life he longs for. Waking up to the phone ringing, picking up the reciever bareley able to let out the question every person the planet asks when they pick up the phone, without an answer sweat dripping from every pore coating him. his fear of being alone, his knowing that he will always be alone, never know the contact of another human mounting. This idea haunting his every waking moment, when he sleeps and dreams he is no longer alone but with her, the one he wants the one he needs.
fear
Longing for her yet she will never be mine again, this dream within a dream has bec
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:iconjooosh:Jooosh 2 3
Literature
this is one of my favorites
George and his poodle headed comrades make contradictory statments in your sac of faster blasters. Strange it is to be in a strange place, the strangers there are strange to you and you to them. tracklesslands places with no end, walking endlessly through the world finding new places but not setteling. Others found there place or forced one upon themsleves. shirtless pantless and wanting a place to stay, nowhere to be, this is not their place. Fungus filled appleskins spewed across this broken land. Pens and pencils fighting off the swords of the world. The play on words of my face out of my mouth, the look in their eyes, the look of the crazy man in the back of your jail cell looking for a good time. Forceful and violent. The grotesque way they stuff themselves with these fake and false products from harmful chemicals deemed "safe" by these men and women beyond judgement.
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Literature
Stunchishness
Strapless pants and a sac of poodle poping penguins. Coco Roos of the tapestrieless castle of a crumble. Heartless men and women working from their heart, using their experiences to fuel their work. Quack goes the simple minded fool losing his mind to the pipe and crystals of the dealer, in the back alley. Alone yet with his friends, friends using and abusing him. lovely ball of human flesh hairy and pink, pale and dark all rolling about, their passion driven orgy. inhabitions lowered by the drug of their choice, the addiction of their lives. Fueling their need to be with one another, feel the warmth near them the pleasure of their bodies bumping and grinding. knowing that their alone yet together, hoping to escape from their lonliness.
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Literature
Cards and Cantelopes
Corrugated lawn gnomes and pizza pot pie a sac of ju-jubes in a gentle breeze.
Popless parties and the pill popers of the world. A new Rush Limba in the making, spouting their minds over the radio band. Some listen others not caring scan over it for their selection of mind numbing noise. An itch, the feeling the need for a good scratch. The need to replicate, reproduce, spread our genes to the four corners, or just the corner whores spread legs. procesed foods, the only thing to eat, the only thing around. In the corner store, the big surplus store. Fat filled sugar stuffed balls of a heart attack on a bun. They taste good they must be good for us. The uncaring mother, the unwanted child. Fat over stuffed, filling themselves with the grotesque greasy foods artificialy flavored soaked with sickness full of sweetners rolled in breading and deep fat fried. Shiped from the orient the far reaches of the world on the backs of steel whales. To end up fatening our country stuffing us expanding
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deviantID

Jooosh
Who wears short shorts?
United States
Current Residence: In a barn
Favourite genre of music: The live kind
Favourite photographer: My cell Phone
Favourite style of art: ukiyo-e
Operating System: Windows XP Pro.
Favourite cartoon character: Kentaro oi
Personal Quote: "I'm creepin'"
Interests
  • Listening to: Bad music on Nickelodeon
  • Reading: Good omens
  • Watching: Ren and Stimpy
  • Playing: Drink the beer
  • Eating: beer
  • Drinking: beer
Denying myself a ciggarette to write this I thumb the keys quickly.

Chicken pecking I believe is the proper term.

Anyone reading this probably knows me, alittle drunk but mostly lost.

Got two weeks off from work, babysitting for my sister, kids a sleep.

You ever been paid in beer and ciggarettes?

Comments


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:iconchartreusecontempt:
ChartreuseContempt Featured By Owner Jun 5, 2008
HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY
Even though it technically ended two minutes ago....
:)
Reply
:iconskincauldron:
skincauldron Featured By Owner Feb 22, 2007   Writer
Just a random guy here, needing to tell you that your poetry is mindblowing. The imagery created by your sublime use of metaphor is so colorful and vivacious. Are you really 16 years old? This stuff is over the heads of most college students I live with. Keep it up, you're pretty much publishworthy already!
Reply
:iconjooosh:
Jooosh Featured By Owner Sep 27, 2007
thanks....Sorry I didn't reply sooner I don't log on very often
Reply
:iconultimatekai:
ultimatekai Featured By Owner Dec 31, 2006  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Hi Josh!
Hi Josh!
HI JOSH!
HI JOSH!
Reply
:iconjooosh:
Jooosh Featured By Owner Oct 24, 2006
hello, honey duck...I miss you too
Reply
:iconwhich-one-is-pink:
which-one-is-pink Featured By Owner Oct 8, 2006
I miss you.
Reply
:iconsyspluck:
SYSPLUCK Featured By Owner Jun 19, 2006  Hobbyist Photographer
Oh btw, I have a HUGE crush on Sunshine!!!!
Oh btw, I have a HUGE crush on Sunshine!!!!
Oh btw, I have a HUGE crush on Sunshine!!!!
Oh btw, I have a HUGE crush on Sunshine!!!!
Oh btw, I have a HUGE crush on Sunshine!!!!
Oh btw, I have a HUGE crush on Sunshine!!!!
Reply
:iconsyspluck:
SYSPLUCK Featured By Owner Apr 1, 2008  Hobbyist Photographer
omgshootme -_-
Reply
:iconjooosh:
Jooosh Featured By Owner May 2, 2006
stupid question but....how do I add friends/ favorites?
Reply
:iconjooosh:
Jooosh Featured By Owner May 2, 2006
What is in my head is dead.
Reply
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