The Good Stuff
I have a big gallery. If you're going to read anything from me, make it something from this box.
SuperimposeHe doesn't look like a gymnast. He's all button down shirts and frazzled grey hair framing wire spectacles, a picture perfect professorial archetype down to the very tips of his frayed shoelaces. But he was a gymnast once, or so he tells us, and I believe him because he smiles like he knows something while he's chatting before class.
Tangential AsymptotesI think about falling in math class.
Some Lovers III died on a cold
SurrogateI stopped using his full title
He doesn't write poetry anymore.He doesn’t write poetry anymore,
Stories of feelings with no names - Revision i.
Autumn was my first love.October, I follow you -
Old SoulsDoc says I’m an old
I do Critiques upon request, though I've been known to dish them out occasionally for no reason at all Feel free to ask if you'd like me to look over something for you!
I'd like to be able to have enough points to make donations to contests, help people extend their Premiumships - I love being helpful
All You need to know about DD's
Suggest one today!
DailyLitDeviations has been having trouble garnering suggestions lately: why not help them out?
Using HTML on dA
On of the most helpful resources I've found. I refer back to it frequently
Using Font on dA
Because I'm a sucker for formatting
Useful for features!
News Articles I've Written
The Visual Novel: Video Games as a Literary MediumWhat is it?
Foreign Words the English Language NeedsOh hello. I’m finally getting around to making this news article that I said I might do, like, a month ago. Sorry, I’m not used to writing news articles. Bear with me.
Untitled is just a synonym for lazy.Well, the color poem form I introduced to dA was a rousing success, but interest of late seems to have died down. So I'm back with a new form for you all, something exciting and new, something different, something that I will probably make into a contest once I get some points in the bank. You ready?
Managing Your Inbox: Some Tips on StreamliningI'm not really an organized person. Yeah, sure, I like to TRY to be one, but most of my attempts to clean house don't stick. The one exception, however, is in my online life. I keep everything to do with the computer tabbed and organized and that includes my dA life.
What's That Mean?
That means I keep an eye out for the best literature on dA (specifically prose). If you think you have a suggestion for me, read on!
What is DailyLitDeviations?
DLD is a group dedicated to promoting the work of Literature artists on deviantArt.
By showcasing one featured DLD per day the Literature Gallery Moderators provide the community with a showcase of excellence in Literature. In contrast, we will be showcasing excellence with a series of literature pieces each day in a News Article to serve the community. We are a diverse group featuring 5 pieces of quality literature every day.
In such a large community many writers feel that their work goes unnoticed. The DLD is here to help change that!
How do I suggest a DLD?
Please see this page for the general guidelines and this page for other Admins you can suggest to. Please only suggest a piece to one Admin at a time to avoid any confusion.
Okay, but what if I have a suggestion for YOU, SilverInkblot?
Top right corner - send me a note! Here's the rundown:
Please send no more than two suggestions at a time. This makes it easier for me to keep up.
I can feature Prose or Poetry, though I try to focus more on Prose. We have lots of Poetry Admins who are very dedicated to their job and our Prose is sometimes lacking.
Please include a thumb and a description of why you think this piece deserves to be featured. It doesn't have to be a full critique - a few sentences will do nicely!
Yes, you can suggest yourself! If you deserve it, you deserve it! But please don't send me your entire gallery - remember I have to actually READ everything sent to me.
All the Admins have a certain style they enjoy. I myself like reading flash fic and prosetry, so I'm more likely to feature things with those qualities. However, I WILL read and consider anything sent to me. I do have to ask though, that they are standalone pieces - not chapters. I can't accept fanfiction either.
changedi wish i could write
like i used to,
about stars and rain and hypothetical
but i'm not that
person anymore -
i can't write in
fixed forms with
out breaking the
i can't imagine myself
as a three year old with paper boats
and paperclip anchors.
i'm reusing old memories
and it's this cycle of
it's all the same now
and i can't go back,
but i can't go forward.
i'm locked in to writing about myself
or referring to the same person
our daughter, lost at sea*
it's the way the world looks on the other side, you know
how water would be sky, but for the ripples
so i see her in the smooth black pools of coffee cups
the creases of my bed-sheets
like fingerprints on glass
and you here, where my collarbone meets the shoulder
our lives, just as they are,
to be a waste of grey matter with no self-esteemforgive these
rorschach nerves &
mercury veins -
i am no tragedy boy,
but i have self-decay
down to an art.
this tar tongue only starts
marlboro conversations &
i only start fires.
divorcei was raised on
the smell of cigarettes
on daddy's breath
and the crisp sound of newly printed
i found wine bottles hidden beneath the seat cushions
of our plum battered couch
just days before daddy left
mom bottled her tears
and hid them
in plain sight
because she didn't want to make the same mistakes
my bottles collected dust next to hers
and i grew a penchant for secrets
that never got told
everyone knows where they're hidden
Ode To A Pair Of Hiking ShoesA pair of well used hiking boots
Rest beside an open doorway
Their leather no longer stiff
As the first day they were applied
A couple holes decorate one
Stains of white paint splatters on both
And a faint whiff of sweat lingers
From each hike, brisk walk, and paint job
That has provided them with use
After years of being beaten
By cement and the burdened feet
Of the morbidly obese man
Who chooses to utilize them
They have developed character
That not enough people strive for
And too many, through foolishness
And with fervor, claim to possess
What kind of a country is this?
mother, i...mother, i...
to a six-year-old
a hospital is just fun
a new place to explore
and pretend that vending machines
make everything taste better
and it's an adventure
to wash hands and somehow
keep Mom safe from
the pathogen that i am
but somehow the fact that
you can no longer hold me
is scarier than the scar
stretching across your stomach, dimpled
at each end and accompanied
by stretch marks (at least
one tenth of those
are my fault)
doesn't include word problems
or fear of cancer
because Mom is all-powerful
and she doesn't run from things
(they run from her and hide
hoping to wait out discipline
from work-seasoned hands)
it took fourteen years of experience
to realize that a 50% chance
i will have your scars
just so long as you will hold me
[and it's okay if i don't survive
because you did]