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About Literature / Student JA GreeneMale/Australia Recent Activity
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Mature content
Vantage :iconshackell:shackell 1 2
Wanting for to Be
All these people in the scene
telling you how they've been
filling blank with know-what-i-mean
you don't know how to consider me
when you speak riddled symphonies
for dancers to break through the stage
wanting for to be
wanting for to be
the talk is clicking
down a terrible spread
tearing a sparable tread
never really coming
to the point
golly lagging
my string of luck
is being played with
by a crazy cat.
If 'm not careful
'll end up on the trite rack
stopped like a drone questing rorters
wanting for to be
love less the challenged quarter
wanting for to be
hate less with trickster mortars
wanting for to be
the politics undressed
ground to the paced.
Pillars of flame
burst from brushed intent
in the heartbeat clutch
changing the years as such
we go walking
the land carving our towers
in your clothes and hours
(filling baggy pants
with dust storm business
suits bust-taking names
of uniforms & pantyhose)
wanting for to be
when tired
of acting
like raisins supposed
:iconshackell:shackell 2 9
Oh, My Geeking Fraud
_Oh, My Geeking Fraud_
I was running at the lead of spite
from ten cinched thoughts and fan 'to-see's.
What's a decision without a bit o' frisk?
A broom with a shoe?
A mad stay of dock; bark it
damn, sell in distress!
If the funeral pyre is gone,
sunk into the lawn,
take my love letters
and burn them
when the sun comes around
                 and sings out a final sound of
atmosphere duels fleeing ground
                 jewels crumbling from the crown.
(if andromeda doesn't get us first)
Tilt gripping
phantom limbs
nostalgia skims
absentee whims …
It's the prime of cash-in
(absotively posilutely)!
Monkey Dee, Monkey Sue.
monkey pushes pleasure button.
Gardeners gift shears,
greenback racers shift gears
saving money like saving people …
or saving peop
:iconshackell:shackell 1 7
Dear Ogden and Byron
Dear Ogden and Byron (in response to Very Like a Whale)
I apologise, dear Ogden, for your point is so well played,
that the technique you decry when put to your employ
varies from apt to well made with the past
but I must partly disagree and toy
in spite of your bombast inversions,
for to lack in the palette of contrast
is to draw only on focused reference
without much bearing beyond time;
the mind removed has little point that lasts
to draw conversions from distant kinds,
as the old nature of other dates and place
can be alien for some present ones to taste.
:iconshackell:shackell 0 0
Yes the Day
_Yes, the Day_
What are you doing now?
Now what are you?
What are you doing now?
Now what are you?
what are you doing
A blob of rind
no doubtful will
disc cover the world
travel the seven caesars
witness the seven
ancient blunders of the whorled.
What do you want to say?
What are you today?
Are you yesterday?
What did you want to say?
How are you today?
When were you yesterday?
Remixed emotions
adrenalin coastin'
what would be most'n
subjunctive gumption.
Don't tell me (refute),
you'll deliver salutes in
words as truncheons?
Don't you know
what you're asking,
the rippled skin
you're hassling,
with your coming, leeching,
and castling whatever
it takes to drive your passing
(and pick your ass-lint!)?
Is your tribe
worth taskin'?
Got ya feeling so
beat craftin',
now y'laughin',
don't you know
what's happenin'
now that you're
strapped in,
the day you say
yes the day
you say yes
the day you say yes the day
you say yes from within.
She's her's for the giving.
He's his for the g
:iconshackell:shackell 0 2
is written all over
in permanent ink,
a thousand words
to make it
a better image.
All this work
and all these toys
for normal love
you can't explain.
When writing
don't, like simile,
act metaphorically.
When living
don't, act simile
like metaphor.
Bad aren't mixes,
just no sultanas
Seeing Billy
as a sighing flosser
set about urbia row
your blinds to mow;
what an anastrophe!
:iconshackell:shackell 2 4
Altar Ego
_Altar Ego_
When you line up
all the altar egos,
whether one on travel
or nailed to a wall,
there will be those
who chair persons
and board tables,
huff rousing
vent destruction,
selling air
whilst they customise
what's buxom and
take commands
as requested.
It takes all types really
is a bare fit, takes a fair bit.
Some altars are hot air balloons,
some are tiny pricks,
some are neither fought nor long,
often not for long,
Where there is no farm,
there is no howl.
Where is your place?
Answering their bunny phone?
What are you going to learn
from this ol' bert doll?
That we are all prostitutes
still responding to some
old black market force?
Sell ourselves to something
or give over, give up, give in,
somehow compromise the essential?
Lose sight of grasp and merit
in trade for potential?
I was
on my way
to the idiotic dead.
Where was my place?
Did it feel rude to waste
that real food televisual taste?
I was
busy telling myself I was
:iconshackell:shackell 2 0
Wars Don't Get Good Names ...
_Wars Don't Get Good Names Anymore_
Well, this war was that one
this one was here there
went that one was it
that one or this
way down?
Americans call it the Vietnam War,
Vietnamese call it the American War,
historians these days are a real bore
when it takes a hundred years
or more
of what was this fighting for?
Wars don't get good names anymore.
A failure of the odds
or some culpability of the gods,
oh, how the war on terror
has torn the wearer.
What darker dreams may spawn
with resource stripped
and vision gone,
may they be purified
in the global dawn.
:iconshackell:shackell 0 2
Ah, Men
_Ah, Men_
Naw, mass day
reds, we lord worn
render lord wows;
news world order
drowns err wed lo.
Ha! Nemeses
to be tackled while
armed with love
you say?
The younger ones
put to the trenches
of the future world ...
"Let's hold this lot to promise
and give them our looms;
if only we could decide how
to make it last longer than soon."
of the do-haves
decided that it's important
to question things.
Street people
quiver cobblestone,
flow pedestrian
till they hit the country?
Chitter chatter
pitter patter
teeter totter
where's your daughter?
That's a pretty little ditty
talk of what did he
what did he do?
Oh ...
and …
:iconshackell:shackell 2 5
from the spate of things
converted      unplugged
one thing       torn down
to the next      worn inside out
composition    underexposed
       by the haunt of a smile
      watching you consider
     and suppose
beauty is within
anyone who knows
where to look
and why it grows.
from the feel of things
where the signal sings
desire has made me listless
(working with flowcharts)
for how little warmth i knew
in the ulterior ruin of my years
without. that the risk is too grand
and we are not worthy sinks
loosely from the cobble-work,
towards undercity night.
from the steal of things,
wearing how it rings
when you take the heads
off of all those kings.
:iconshackell:shackell 1 3
Mature content
Fitting on the Sense :iconshackell:shackell 2 2
A+A 6 - Robotany
A&A #6 - Robotany
Oh, those Dame Jeans,
another Clancy faptrap
on a …
All these laurel messin'
moral lessons for
stanza manic zombie freaks
in Eighteenth century chic,
them and their brain snuff cliques.
Let them run amok
and what do they seek?
Nay'ere but the mind unique.
But with my delicate absence
from such affair,
my toolbox fecundity
has gotten far too much
tree grime robotany
since I came back trimmed
from my glass glimpse vacation
of truth reduction for steel planet;
I need find a good castlebreeder
home for these instruments
or sharp blacklights
to neuter the toolbox.
There, bomb gentrification
is a common practice,
not errorism, now
for the peachwhisperer.
:iconshackell:shackell 1 0
so much for
so much,
you could make
so much from
so much
you could make
your world
as such.
I want for you
to know a touch.
It's simple 'til true.
Know this pain
has its time,
as do we the same.
So many desperate days
clinging to patterned ways,
took the word and what
have we left to say?
the need to know I'm in
everything that's been
choosing to live beyond
each note of this old song
you make me forget.
in lucid heat
a butterfly heads
to crosswind
only to give
to drift.
yet it finds lift.
what a toughened rumble.
what an ample bargain,
giving into scale,
working with sift
and all your cicatrix.
struggle oft makes good reason
to bolster your holsters.
get across a notion.
get across a bridge.
you'll die the very day
you refuse to live.
stop worrying
when you take off
your future hat
or you'll be gone owing
the world another chapter
:iconshackell:shackell 2 21
Zen Might Maybe Adjective
_Zen Might Maybe Adjective_
zen is never hard
to reach
for reach is in
the one who rejects it
(some days more than others)
only now
the memory comes
hunting through rolodex
to find some spare
time on shores of text
(spores of context)
did you too want to
be cold and faceless
unsold and debase-less
so drunk
in the flesh old
and tasteless
what wonder
will replace this life?
something stays different
something else new
whatever it tries
it will ensue
excuse me
you're blocking
my view.
:iconshackell:shackell 2 5
"Why are you listening to this ... retro junk?" he said.
Queen's 'You're My Best Friend' bellowed out of a speaker modeled after late 20th century boom-boxes.
"For the same reason people eat blue vein cheese; some things just get better with time," she answered glibly.
Douglas leaned against the wall; his messy overalls hung half-disrobed around his waist, exposing taut musculature under a work-shirt and the odd bruise or grease stain. Sophia lay on the bed reading a journal of modern robotics discussing how some have chosen to lounge in the 'new' automated world and the damning effects of their becoming
How sad, she mused.
"You mean they stink more," said Douglas, breaking in to her thoughts.
"Oh, you uncultured swine," she coyly mocked.
"Said the scientist to the mechanic," he chimed back and headed to the shower. While rinsing, he sang in jest what little he could remember of the song.
"Hey honey?" he called out, as he finished up.
"Yes, Douglas?" she ans
:iconshackell:shackell 0 3
Eye Mite of Noon
_Eye Mite of Noon_
were you not
silver-lit by late hour
dawnings of the mind
landscaping crew?
something somewhere
sometime tells me
you would have told me
we're all dreamers in the end
of a rainbow focus frame
by frame, as dialogue lays
in wait for sheath,
lodging in case
others weigh in late
to jump in our mouths
and play with our lungs,
tongues, lips, and teeth.
thoughts unshared
bounce unbidden
o'er fenced sensibles,
driven to challenge
when they're hidden,
ere plotted as recess,
given no consideration
but reprehensible.
til you think about it, that is,
to talk about it, that isn't.
care to talk about it?
Something's different about you.
You went and got a thought-trim
down at the neural barber, didn't you?
I might have known.
:iconshackell:shackell 2 3

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                       e   e
                       a   a
Among those hollow, plastic cubes,
An other one; one other me:
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By her, irradiant Asian-made,
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Mature content
Vacare :iconpsychodrive:psychodrive 2 20
Light featurette spurs sudden interest
Tan tomatoes disrupt lucent vision
Blue tangerines mellow bland discomfort
Off horizontal scanlines
Grey announcers report greyer sunset
On horizontal scanlines
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wrapping daisy chain fingers
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Turtle Rot Soup
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Charged a dollar
and two cents more -
couldn't bring
to table.
Dirt cleans
flat sediments
on sight,
laying felt words
on a napkin, placing
matted words
soaked in hair -
to lie
:iconnihilim:nihilim 3 39
Exploded Pumpkin
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with its chronic cackle and disembowelling umbillical cord,
Scarring like
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On Categorization of Writing
I couldn't believe there was a sign. A sign that said "Welcome to Heaven," no less. No pearly gates, though. I was disappointed. I passed under that sign and read another. "ID cards necessary. Please proceed to Lobby."
I checked in, and the lady looked at me very strangely when I told her my profession.
"Aren't you a writer?" she asked, very seriously.
"Uh-yes. This is my day job."
"Well, who cares about that?" She issued me a nice little card, with my name, deathdate, and a little picture. It was just like the AAA office, but with clouds. Underneath all of these it said "writer" in big block caps. She motioned me to St. Peter, who was standing at the turnstile and checking our cards. He grinned at me as I came up.
"A writer, huh? Sucks for you."
He motioned me down a hallway (I wondered idly how there was a hallway with all these clouds about) where I found another woman sitting behind a desk. She was sitting by a door that had "WRITERS" on it, again in that block
:iconldemosthenes:ldemosthenes 37 34


I'm putting a book or two together and hopefully the title(s) will be catchy; I'll be working on edits. Accessible works will be together, the experiments will come out of the lab on their own.

Don't know about any big publication but I should get at least a manuscript prepared. Can't leave my poems to other editors' final say and can't do that if I leave it too late.


Back on the proverbial ... I guess.
  • Listening to: Days and Months are the Travellers of Eternity
  • Watching: out for the next step.
  • Playing: Terraria, Payday: The Heist, Borderlands 2
  • Eating: food


JA Greene
Artist | Student | Literature
Current Residence: A triangular box (in a box (which is actually to the left of the slightly bigger box (in a box)))

Fav music genre: Anything that doesn't wear out after the first couple of listens

Fav art style: Evocative, Epiphanic, Estatic, Exemplary Erudite

OS: Default

Skin of choice: Flexible reptile scales don't measure up like they used to

Fav cartoon character(s): The Horse from Ren & Stimpy (and the eponymous), Sam & Max, Rocko, Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Marvin the Martian, Invader Zim, GIR, Spike, Kamina & Simon

Personal Quote: Ignorance of the people is no excuse for law.

Journal History


Add a Comment:
YouInventedMe Featured By Owner Aug 26, 2011   Writer
yummmm typewriter cake
0o-elly-o0 Featured By Owner Jun 27, 2011

deviantART muro drawing Comment Drawing
shackell Featured By Owner Sep 16, 2011  Student Writer
Much obliged. It's like a micro-organism overlaid light refraction.
cogongrass Featured By Owner May 23, 2011
Thanks for the watch! (: It's much appreciated.
YouInventedMe Featured By Owner May 9, 2011   Writer
thanks for the :+fav: on radiant child! it is especially to pleasing to receive a favorite from you.
shackell Featured By Owner May 10, 2011  Student Writer
If you say so. :meow:

I feel there is a raw appeal when it comes to much of the work of Basquiat; you seemed to translate it well.
Amberlouie Featured By Owner May 3, 2011  Professional Writer
Just doing the obligatory pimping for The Second Chance Polished Poetry Competition which ~BibleOfDOOM is hosting this year. Please heart the article and spread the love. Tell everyone! Circulate the article and you'll have my forever :heart:
shackell Featured By Owner Mar 16, 2011  Student Writer
Sometimes, I think the people in my life would be better off if I were bossier, as I wouldn't stand for prolonged psychological head games like 'well I bought this food' but of course it's just the next round of he said, she said. Some people might have been better off if I stood my ground in principle (but then, how would I know), and took he-said-she-said politicking to their inevitable conclusion; they must prove by collating facts, like receipts comparisons.

The problem would be… how not to make it a competition?
AlexandreLancaster Featured By Owner Mar 6, 2011
Thanks by the fav. :)
shackell Featured By Owner Mar 21, 2011  Student Writer
You're more than deserving.
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