ikazon's avatar
mindful coyote
3.1K Watchers721.8K Page Views652 Deviations
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Firebreather
When the beams finally gave way and the attic collapsed into the cloud of smoke that had threatened to billow through the roof, his eyes blazed the same orange-red that peeked through the smoke. He stared at it from the cover of a bush across the field behind the house, unmoving as it collapsed in on itself, bit by bit, board by board. Even as the last embers caught on the evening breeze before the fire ran out of things to burn, he remained, unmoving. When the last haze of light crept away over the horizon, he ran, eyes held shut until he cleared the first few trees that marked the edge of the forest. As he passed more trees—from memory, from practice—he slowly let his eyes creep open, the blazing orange-red illuminating the floor of dark forest in front of him as he ran. His guardians had taught him this. They’d practiced it over and over again, in case the day ever came. He was to run and not look back, to travel by darkness until he reached the bunker at the base of the far
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Protocol
It was far from the first time a dreamhopper tried to escape, and Dr. Markus Albrecht knew it would be far from the last. Hell, Reik had done it at least four times since discovering he could, and once his time in solitary was up, there was no doubt he’d do it again. The problem wasn’t that the dreamhoppers could bounce between dreams and potentially escape; every leap from one dream to the next left a trail of sorts, lingering magic that would lead to the next dream, and so on. No, the problem was more complex, and was one he should’ve expected that Belcott had figured out already. Once a dreaming person was pulled from their dream back into the waking world, their dreamscape would exist only in their subconscious, and it became much more difficult to find any trail to follow in the first place. “Sir, Reik has been locked down in simulated dream space. They recommend giving him about 6 hours to make sure his consciousness is still all there before speaking with him.” Markus sighed,
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A Simple Task
It was supposed to be a simple task. Deliver the pouch to the old lady who lived in the house up the hill, get paid, then be on her merry way. As soon as she arrived and saw that the front door of the dilapidated manor was wide open, hanging on one barely attached hinge, she took her phone out of her pocket and called him back. When it went to the man’s answering machine, she said in no uncertain terms that the pay rate would be double the original quote. Once sure the message had been left, she stepped inside the house, braced for something far less than simple. Upon seeing the remains of the old lady on the dining room table, carved out in a way that could only be described as grotesque, she called him back again, this time demanding triple the original quote. He still didn’t answer, so as she climbed the stairs to the second floor landing, she sent him a text as well. After she killed the first hired gun on the second floor, she called him once more, this time stating that she
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the Kamogawa flows from mountain to ocean— ritual routine like the sun rising and professing my love to you
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Giant
It had taken him a year to traverse the Desolate Continent, his rucksack getting smaller and smaller as his supplies ran out. He might have been able to get to his destination sooner with help, but he knew he had to make this journey alone. A clear map, a course plotted on paper, anything more concrete than the fleeting memories of the stories he'd been told as a child would have helped. But he had to make do. The world was at an impasse. No one was happy, but no one had an edge, either. His goal was to turn the tide in favor of his people. Of his history. Of the very power they once possessed. When he finally crossed the tundra and could see the skeletal remains of the giant—of the mythical force he'd spent his childhood dreaming of—even his shock that the being had been real couldn't overtake the awe of discovering an entire body. Though he was tired from his travels and exhaustion threatened to kick in, he was calculated. This one was stabbed clean through, both weapons present
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b
between two buildings
between two buildings on Hollywood Boulevard there is an abandoned plot of land where another once stood, and it is the only clear view of the Hollywood sign from the street. the most sought after view in Los Angeles caught, perfectly, in failure
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date haiku
on the pier three seagulls sharing bread sushi date salmon and salmon and more salmon road trip one hand on the steering wheel the other in yours king size bed for three summer furnace theme park date the happiest people at the happiest place autumn morning with a light breakfast of kisses
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a reply
audience of one makes more meaningful applause
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Spotlight

Wrong way ( Commission )
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A Flame Burning in the Night
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Universal love
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Salvaged 2-26-jasonFELIX
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Nightwinds
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757
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Breaking the dark
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Light of Amos
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659
The sound of green
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f
for her.
it's midnight and I'm writing love letters on my skin to the woman who raised me. it's midnight and every limb has a story. all my collarbone remembers is the frantic hurry of your footsteps when it broke under the weight of gravity and mistaken desire to fly and my broken pink umbrella, long-gone, remembers too. my elbows remember the firm pull of your hands in the grocery store. my cheeks remember your makeup and my clumsy fingers dipping in like paint pots and my neck remembers all your strands of pearls. I remember when you were young again and wearing red and holding cups of tea in hands that didn't shake yet and I remembe
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To shore
I think back to pulling your hair from your face, sticky strands in nut brown, your lips like the frothy head in a pint glass, untouchable, disappearing. You cried in bed, neck twisted like a giraffe looking for the opposite side of a baobab tree, and I told you that you were beautiful even though no one thought so, anymore. It didn't matter then whether I was holding your greasy heart in my hands, or my own, they were the same fragments, wracked with guilt and blood vessels, weak sutures in their stems. We lay in your bed for five minutes before you choked on your own salt water seasoning, blew your nose into the whi
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U
Untitled
When we went to Norway we killed slugs. We ate dinner at midnight as the sun revolved overhead, spinning in slow concentric circles, never dipping beyond the horizon.  There was no night. We looked up at the clouds, and she asked us if we wanted to do her a favor-to justify spending the night in her garage apartment at no cost.  We weren't freeloaders, so we said O.K.  She told us about the slugs. There were hundreds of them crawling around the garden area-small families leaving slime trails on rock walls.  We collected them one at a time, placing each of them in a huge plastic bag.  We saw them pile on top of each other, felt their collec
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city drowned clean
birds fly bluer before a hurricane, wings sharper, the bricks neater. one train is always longer than the other. i cried about it. the saturated city, droplets of colour caught on tape & rewinding, cups me in its palms, i am a bug on its window, imagining all of it underwater & people clapping in a silent film, the last dying bubbles curtsying on their lips, for their marble town the white skied & terrible atlantis.
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I
In summer we all burn
The summer is coming, I hear the beach roaring from here, can see shirts hung over shoulders, sunglasses, arms round waists, can feel the earth's purrs, breaking hibernation, pollens tossed up at us in fanfare. Ants are walking over me because we're sharing a tree together. Back to back, we're trying to make our winter's pallour a warmer shade. Is it some sort of personal sign when you let your shoe-tongues fill with tan bark, when it's driven you mad your whole life? Or when you eat ice-cream in public (the sticky fingers a mere afterthought)? These trees though, they're not changing. I can't help thinking they
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Morning - for Carl Sandburg
The morning erupts          on little cat feet A flick of the tail          a breath exhaled               too fast at the end of a leap and then A paw,     placed on lid's soft fan of lash breath whirring, throaty, warm          nose             to          nose eyes still closed Then          open Thwack – A stunning velvet attack     innocent lids           unwarned     warm sheets      no safe haven The morning erupts     on little cat feet.
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Tea for Two
I observed her fragile corpse upon the cemetery seat, looking to and fro like a lost pigeon. She blinked her watery green eyes at me just once as I approached, then let them oggle wide. "Madam," said I, "have you any need of assistance?" A soft moan echoed back across the dying rhododendrons. "Are you tired? Lost?" A quick glance at her spittle-slathered chops. "Hungry?" She nodded vigorously and a bit of froth flew loose to stick upon a nearby leaf. I watched as it slowly slid its way to the very tip and plopped with a light "thwack" upon the freshly upturned soil. "Er, there ought to be a dead squirrel or two out back by the fence. I i
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nowhere else
it rains hard enough that i can finally sit quietly, as if lighting candles. maybe there is nowhere else to be. a cup of water trembles on the table as if afraid, kept too long from the useful yearning of roots, from the anonymous way rain falls. i light one candle then another, quietly, as if lighting candles. the rain keeps pressing damp invisible flowers against the window, reminding me how long the near-dark lasts, how the woods at the edge of the yard never see, but thirst enough to catch fire. each candle moves like the rain, each quieting life from lives of their own. in the half-light coming in, i can pretend
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Deviant for 10 years
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Found on Newest, Vol. 8
One of the most polarizing things about the Newest page is that there's no filter, and that it's literally just deviations right as they're submitted. The bright side to browsing Newest is that you have the chance to run into a variety of good art of...well, anything and everything, really! So, here are some more great works that I've found while browsing Newest!
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Magnetic Moon
It's been a bit of an odd summer out here, I think. It's been remarkably cool in California for summer, as it is, but it also feels like things are off in some way. I don't know how to quantify that, but things just feel strange in some ways, I suppose. I had a friend from Australia staying for the past week, which was a lot of fun. He and the boyfriend went out and did a bunch of fun stuff while I was working, and then over the weekend they went to Disneyland while I was at a wedding, so it's been a lot of doing for the past week-ish, but the real kicker was when we took him to the airport yesterday night. Now, as it is, LAX is one of my least favorite places in the world to be. It's a poorly-designed airport and the experience of being at LAX is rarely a good one, but especially so when it takes 40 minutes to get to the airport, and then an extra 40 minutes to get from the entrance to LAX to the terminal you're trying to get to. It's a complete mess from start to finish. Suffice
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Callout post for @MattInRealLife: premeditated plant murderer
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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 Mar 2016

This is my box to test things.

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Comments4.8K

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GothicNarcissus's avatar
GothicNarcissus|Professional Photographer
Thank you for the :+fav:! :huggle: :rose:
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ikazon's avatar

My pleasure, thank you for sharing your work with us! :la: :hug:

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TheGalleryOfEve's avatar
TheGalleryOfEve|Professional Digital Artist
:iconflyingheartsplz::iconflyingheartsplz::iconflyingheartsplz:SpongeBob (Spread the love) [V1]:iconflyingheartsplz::iconflyingheartsplz::iconflyingheartsplz:

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ikazon's avatar
:huggle: :la:
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ZielinskiMaciej's avatar
ZielinskiMaciej|Hobbyist General Artist
Hi,
Many thanks for the :+fav: on the:
The 14th of August 2019 by ZielinskiMaciej
Much appreciated!:hug:
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ikazon's avatar

My pleasure, thank you for sharing your work with us! :la:

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