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About Literature / Hobbyist Donald Guy29/Male/United States Recent Activity
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Literature
Simply Too Much
New York, The City rises outside my door
For some, a playground, so vast to explore
But for me, a reminder, I cannot ignore
That the world is too large and I'll never be sure
How it all works, or why it's all there
Too many features I cannot compare
Most never known and most never seen
Not in the flesh, and Not on the screen.
Not by the ear, and Not by the tongue,
Not spoken, Not read,
Not thought and Not sung
Not under soles, Not breathed into lung
Not in my experience
I will not understand
So I'm left to imagine, but more likely not
That that I do is too quickly forgot
All of these people, and all of their thoughts
More time than I have,
An instant demands.
~D.B. Guy
1/24/14, before 8am
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Literature
An Autobiography
I am a certified expert in the sequential pushing of buttons,
this pushing performed, on a good day, in concert with the
expensively purchased, somewhat rare mental model of
the workings of a recently commonplace variety of machine
dependent at its core on the minuscule presence of increasingly-rare
earth metals allowing for the conditional flow of groups of electrons.
These machines, like their precursors, are further dependent on
the supply of slightly less increasingly rare combustible material
for which armed conflicts are routinely fought and many have died.
My interest in the machines began at an early age,
enticed by the illusion of control, and on the whole,
I think, motivated by the idea that these machines
processing information, the core mechanism of reality,
might be used to create understanding.
In the interceding years, it is increasingly apparent to me
that while some are used for this purpose, most,
like most things around me, are controlled and engaged by
multi-persone
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Literature
Untitled (So I think)
Untitled ("So I think")
It's hard to remember. I think so anyway. As change occurs the past disappears.
It's hard to compose. I think so anyway. Thoughts don't seem to come like they used to.
It's hard to believe. I think so anyway. It all seems to be pretty pointless.
It's hard to start. I think so anyway. Though its an important part of doing anything
It's hard to ...
It's hard to …
It's hard to justify. I think so anyway. Repetition is easy, meaning is not.
It's hard to sleep. I think so anyway. Descent to darkness is not my friend.
Is this a poem? I think so anyway. Though its content might be better with a bit of prose
Work in progress. I think so anyway.
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Another for Occupy Boston by Qaxzar Another for Occupy Boston :iconqaxzar:Qaxzar 0 0
Literature
WHERE TO GO
WHERE TO GO
It is daylight, err it
is raining
actually still you
should go now or you
will be late, she sd, to
the reflection of
a memory that danced in
& out & back again as
she looked across the window-
less room
D.B. Guy
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Literature
Trash Poem
You won't even empty a trash can?
I did. It is not even my turn
But the trash can is full again now
I don't see how this is my concern
When it overs it will be, as
trash piles up all around us
If you care so much do it yourself
I can't, this is a freshman job
                              
                              ~D.B. Guy
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Literature
The Yellowcard Show
The Yellowcard Show
I stagger out of the Paradise Rock Club. 11:04pm.
42 degrees. Short sleeves, no jacket; I give zero fucks.
I have experienced something beyond words, but I'll try
In 50 minutes it will be All Hallow's Eve, a Monday
Due and not yet begun I have an essay on James Joyce and
A reckoning on the occult, inner mysteries of the CPU.
Again, I give zero fucks
The last hour and a half were the best possible use of my time.
Not 5 miles away, people I sympathize with
are protesting the failure of America,
But tonight I have seen her undeniable beauty:
904, as the fire code rates, packed in to the inch
A choir united, the director:
A man who tonight skipped his Aunt Steph's funeral at her request
To be here
To direct us in each anthem.
In hopeful, truthful noise
Our hoarse and untrained voices combine
And as Mr. Key observes, against all odds, against all reason
Make the most beautiful sound.
              
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Literature
Interrupted Reading
Interrupted Reading
Drinking a Guinness Extra, an empty gesture,
Beset truly by the words of Joyce,
I am sick of the turning from text
To annotation. I wish only to read
A text as it was meant,
With the knowledge not aside
But present already in my blasted skull
It's like the modern appreciation of Shakespeare
—At best an approximation. The words that were
Common, fallen out of usage.
The words then invented, now commonplace.
Thither and hither again I will look
Tracking the details
Researching the clever allusion
Trying not to miss & missing anon
what's right in front of me
                            D.B. Guy
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Literature
A poem for Occupy Boston
A poem for #occupyboston
11:33pm boston_Police:
#occupyboston The BPD respects
your right to protest peacefully.
We ask for your ongoing cooperation.
Occupy_Boston: 11:51
The BPD asks reporters to leave
the inside of the camp
they don't want them to record
and report on what they're about to do.
1:31
Cops give Occupy Boston
five minutes to vacate.
Nobody is leaving.
1:41 @OccupyBOS_Media:
The police are beating the Veterans for Peace
1:44 Occupy_Boston:
Cops arresting everyone.
We are being beaten.
KEEP TAKING PHOTOS.
I walk there as my legs will cary me...
The Aftermath:
All quiet on the western curb
Over 100 arrested and spread amongst
more than five separate jails—none close by.
Camp two is gone and camp one intact. for now;
The ecstatic crowd, arms linked, chants
"Who do you protect? Who do you serve?""
Hyperbole all around.
Injustice or public safety?
...It hardly even matters.
The people are on the streets again
The military is overseas but
this time, the war is at
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Literature
A poem for Photoshop
A poem for Photoshop
A thought sometimes forms
I live too much
yet I do too little.
    Woken at strange hours,
never asleep.
       Rapt in raps
       or wrapped in riddles
Chained to links
or hammered to handle
    stubbed to bone
Mens et
         Manus
There is time yet, I swear
        To flourish
To dream
        To make
To be
        To do
        To create
Will I?
We'll see
There's time yet to tell
Be yourself, they say
    The best you you can be
But once more— Will I have time
        To edit
I live less
        I do less
    Portfolio:
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Literature
A poem for the weary
A poem for the weary
A late hour. Don't even look at the clock.
Every fiber of my good sense yells go to
sleep and I do not. Every bit of logic
understands that I need to wake in fewer
hours than I needed to sleep in the first place
Still I sit here
Listening to music.
Writing a poem. Staring idly
at a browser window. The lights are on, the blinds
drawn. When the sun begins to rise, I will not see it
I've seen several sunrises recently
I remember what they look like.
In the midwest somewhere, a tweaker sits
awake for the third day. Chasing vapor and ghosts
He's seen the sunrise too, perhaps an hour later
He may or may not remember
We run from the cousin, but he finds us
The sandman cometh. And
Enter night
and what dreams may come
Locked in the struggle we all lose,
Running from comfort and sanity at full-speed
                            
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Literature
Another poem for her
Another poem for her
Hello again, my old friend
Hello again, pretended lover
Hello again, to you I loved
   —or thought that I did,
who loved another
And now another, never me.
I waved at you, you didn't see
Me walking only a few steps behind
Quite shocked to find you on my mind
Had I gone 5 seconds before
Or even took a different path
I might have run right into you,
caught up, flirted, had a laugh
Or maybe not seen you at all
Not been here now, forced to recall
The relationship I'd hoped to see
   —Probably deluded, far overly
Entranced by a match unlikely true
With a girl, I hardly knew
Convinced I'd found some perfect you
Who perfectly fulfilled an idea of me
—Years have passed. We both walk on;
We hardly see each other still, so
Goodbye to you, who passed me by,
Goodbye, perfect girl, who always will
                     
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Literature
A poem for vegetarians
A poem for vegetarians
Chicken and beef
More beef
More Chicken
Potatoes fried in vats of fat, A cow's
heart in a wine reduction;
Bacon strips,
   bacon strips,
bacon strips,
    bacon strips.
"Ulcer in the pit...
...never neglect to salt"
It hurts again.
—Doesn't it always?
Jack and Advil,
A half-hearted suggestion.
"You don't really know unless you try?":
Burn a hole, Bleed it out
Pain is water-soluble, right?
I tried it once. I've told that story
Brought down in one day by two pots of chili
                                 9.26.11
                                 D.B. Guy
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Literature
A poem for futons
A poem for futons
The pin fell out.
The pin fell out, so the bolt slipped,
Knocking the bottom of the arm
And the damn thing wouldn't open!
Fifteen hundred I payed — 105 for delivery and assembly,
But I didn't make space for them,
They couldn't lay it out, so they built it standing up.
The pin didn't get set right, so the pin fell out.
I fixed it. Once I figured it out. It wasn't hard,
though pretty hot, since early, the back broke the plug
and the AC died. I sweated all over the expensive wood,
Wiped it up with the towel I was just wearing
And so there I stood: drenched in sweat,
Frustrated and exhausted, rumpled and wet
Ready for my second shower in just as many hours
All because I had the _audacity_,
                            for once,
To try to go to sleep.
            
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Literature
A poem for corporate recruiter
A poem for corporate recruiters
                        I have a name
I have an address;                           & some contact
                                                information
_I am educated_
I list working on a degree in your field          June 2012
And many relevant classes.                      GPA: 3.0kay
I graduated
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Literature
Alcohol
Alcohol
The blood comes dilute, as if to refute
What is, or was ever at all
To challenge the must,
The is and the thus
The ever, the will, and the Fall
The Winter, the Spring, the Summer that brings
A freedom, an illusion anew
A time to recline--in dreams and unwind
The idea that you can, that you will
The will, O the will, O the untempered can
Of worms which one opens and finds
Full to the brim, before and again
"Reality"" which tries to unbid
The self from the mind
The meaning from line
The reason from rhyme
And the is from all time
Separates Us: from passion
From Trust.
From belief in ourselves
From love
From true wealth
From magic. From tragic
At least in true measure
Dulling the pain,
But denying the pleasure
The Roar and the Ring
A Hell of a Thing
To make the time pass or
To fill up Your Glass.
~D.B. Guy
August 15, 2011 12:11AM PDT
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Hello there by Zannda Hello there :iconzannda:Zannda 21 11 Flower by Zannda Flower :iconzannda:Zannda 10 13 Rising Sun by Zannda Rising Sun :iconzannda:Zannda 8 8 Shadows by koujidaisuki76 Shadows :iconkoujidaisuki76:koujidaisuki76 5 3 Auki-chan by Aukary Auki-chan :iconaukary:Aukary 1 11 Chained by Aukary Chained :iconaukary:Aukary 2 6 Sahm's tennis by Aukary Sahm's tennis :iconaukary:Aukary 1 6 Aukary and Qaxzar by Aukary Aukary and Qaxzar :iconaukary:Aukary 1 7 Beach Party Hunny by Aukary
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Donald Guy
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
A twenty-something computer science student at MIT who moonlights as a poet and beer enthusiast.
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:icongelidabyss:
gelidabyss Featured By Owner Dec 14, 2008
It's refreshing to know that good and talented poetry still survives on dA. I enjoyed the word choice and meter you used and hope you will keep contributing!
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:iconkoujidaisuki76:
koujidaisuki76 Featured By Owner May 31, 2008
Hey! I'm so happy you like my drawings!

I want to major in Aerospace/Astronautical or Mechanical or Civil....

I haven't decided among the 3 yet. :( too difficult at this point lol..
Reply
:iconaukary:
Aukary Featured By Owner Mar 22, 2008
aw ok! i miss you qaxzar!
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:iconaukary:
Aukary Featured By Owner Dec 6, 2007
: D
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:iconaukary:
Aukary Featured By Owner Jul 21, 2007
beeeep! haahaha
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:iconaukary:
Aukary Featured By Owner Jan 19, 2005
=^_^= muchas gracias for the favs+!!! :glomp:
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:iconqaxzar:
Qaxzar Featured By Owner Jan 18, 2005  Hobbyist Writer
anybody notice a pattern in my favourites?
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:iconaukary:
Aukary Featured By Owner Dec 24, 2004
Thanks so much for the favs!!!! ^____^ Forever fear the power of the B!!!! ^___^
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:icontakas:
Takas Featured By Owner Dec 23, 2004   Writer
yo! welcome to devian art again, Qaxzar.
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:iconaukary:
Aukary Featured By Owner Dec 23, 2004
thanks for saying i'm ur fav artist lol I drew a pic of qaxzar and aukary. It's funny, i'll have to give it to you.
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