Machine WindWind tip-tapping againstMachine Wind by BeccaJS
desperate to attract attention,
off desolate rooftops
where there's no blue skies
but the lingering pollution of
The wind infers longing, where they once worked,
sweeping each corner in search of their presence
or past existence, a distance too far
of just what happened and why now absent.
Still tipping and raising the alarm,
there must be someone there-
a twisted gust takes one more lap of hope.
no more than hope.
Walking with a ToddlerSlow he may be, plodding gentle hisWalking with a Toddler by BeccaJS
tiny legs. Each stick is a new
exploration three steps to
“come on” you shout as he trots over
gravel laughing delighted at the crunch-crunch
beneath his feet
and back again.
A dog bounds by, so much energy that
it sparks fear in the little trekker as
he clings to your leg, begging to be lifted.
Arms wrapped around his world,
he points at the sky, tells you its blue.
The Execution of Judy MonroeIn glamour, in glitter-infested HollywoodThe Execution of Judy Monroe by BeccaJS
the movie star Judy Monroe’s almond eyes; coaled melodramatic,
tilt towards the camera.
The executioner motions forward;
a tall man, no guardian angel.
She watches his movement; spiteful, hated as he proudly glides
to prep for the grand finale.
A prayer to God with no love, each lens focused on her.
Black and white replaced by orange overalls.
She was found,
She was judged,
And Judy Monroe will be judged
Until opulence is extinguished and her dimpled cheeks sallow
and her pretty head drops.
When the tall man grazes her last touch,
leather grasps her wrists tight.
the poison plunges and she falls before them all:
behold her final bow.
release and exhale.
Twenty Ten FourWe never notice.Twenty Ten Four by BeccaJS
Our alarm doesn't ring, it sings
Pharell beating our mornings
'til we remove from our snooze. We
forgot the tink-tinker or
and emerge the same.
The same commute to work:
Heads sunk, tired eyes drunk by
thumb movements. Our ears dumb
locked into a Will-I-Am trance. Not
a glance of the changing scenes;
the only birds we see are angry.
The same office echoes with
of emails blaming others and smack-talking.
instead of actual talking. We fall for
the hype of Skype and only Siri’s
voice drones narrow answers
we accept as truth.
The same playground, huddled corners;
Children pick a blackberry instead of
picking blackberries, for their late-night
Facebook fights. Words will always hurt see:
no kids to hit with sticks and stones. Unless
there’s an app for it.
What do we do when stop?
Orwell you're too late
took thirty years to demonstrate your
doublethink and we all cling to
the tease of Earl Greywhen leaves speak they rustlethe tease of Earl Grey by alapip
but shan't talk of lost cattle
out of bags like cats lying
purring perhaps stirring
gainsaying the language
of pictures - much fewer
than one thousand words
whispered soft - softer
ours to read into
by catching a hint of
some spiciness brewed
a sugaring of love -
or upcoming danger
a giving or taking
from whom in this strange land
once was a stranger
by this chance assessed
through one's cup or glass
darkly lit yet it be
from wet leavings of tea
hopefully let it be
the sugaring of love -
llp - dA - jan2013
DD - feb1/2013
Forum Stickies UpdateHello everyone!Forum Stickies Update by neurotype
If you're a forum regular you may have noticed the forum stickies being updated. There are a couple left, but we'll have those up for you as soon as we're happy with how they look.
Also, there's a brand new Need HELP thread that you may find useful even if you're not a forum regular!
We're hoping to make the forums easier to use and understand. Here are some key highlights:
The forum rules are now titled "READ BEFORE POSTING"—we're hoping this will make them more obvious to newbies (thank you raspil for that suggestion way back when).The first bullet point of every forum refers to FAQ 801, which applies across the board and should be read by everyone before posting a thread. The second one always includes a link to the Need HELP thread (see above for a link, it's super-nifty).Some things that were previously only mentioned in the Deviants Forum are now in :faq801:We've added
eclipse.my eyes well-up constellations for you,
they shine bright. though my tears aren't precious anymore,
far too common for the tormenting night.
whoever told you about those squinting stars?
they strain to see those in this world;
gifted yet challenged by the sun and the moon.
and if all of earth's paradoxes were to stand up like soldiers,
we would be out of place.
try not to cry about such trivial matters
and live life as if we will not die.
and if such aspects are set in stone,
why does our molten flow so smoothly as
we seep out venus' volcano of infidelity and trust?
and they tell us that lust leads to consequences.
our brightness attracts those moths who perish in our heat.
we give a warm welcome to everything that we
untitledThat guy thinks he's heartless;
I watch him as he buys coffee
and gives it to everybody he passes
on the street who looks sad, and
his lips curl into a smile because
he made a joke that gave someone a laugh.
He holds his mother's hand on top
of hospital sheets, pressing the button
to pump morphine into her system
before he signals a nurse. Tears cascade
down his face when he watches
his mother take her last breath.
And his lips curl into a sneer as he walks
past a cloud of lung choking smoke,
thinking of the fume filled air
his mother suffocated herself in.
He thinks he's heartless, but
his heart is bigger than anyone's.
On March 12th, 2015, the world lost a literary great. Sir Terry Pratchett, a conqueror of the fantasy/Sci-fi industry who not only wrote captivating stories, but threw in wonderfully weird dilemmas full or wit and humour. A truly talented, funny writer, who sported a black fedora hat, silver beard and an imagination most writers would envy.
Who would have thought something as ludicrous as a giant turtle flying through space, carrying four elephants that held an entire disc-shaped world that fluctuates between the ridiculous and the insane, could become such a great example of world building? Or that a hopeless wizard and his most useful trunk could become such an endearing character? How does it work that an orang-utan can run a magical library, or a witch can teleport herself into nearby creatures whilst looking dead? Pratchett took nonsense and the absurd and made it work to the point everything seemed sensible. His novels aren't laden with the complexity of old fashioned fantasy, but the comfortable familiarity of everyday life in Discworld. Even Death became a symbol of humanity, a character so well-created he became a much loved icon.
Discworld is more than a fantasy universe. It is a satire of this world, poking fun in so many corners whether it’s the glitz of Hollywood (Moving Pictures), the British Media (The Truth) or even Australia (The Last Continent). Beyond the novels, the universe has had countless intellectual influence, Pratchett himself co-writing about the science around Discworld and creating "mapps" detailing regions in the world. There's also been a Discworld encyclopaedia (The Discworld companion), folk tales and "non-fiction" works created by characters in the series. Pratchett also welcomed collaborators, iconically including Neil Gaiman in the best selling Good Omens. His work has been adapted into film, television, stage and comic books as well as several (fantastic) computer games. To list his achievements alone shows a writer anyone willing to work as hard could aspire to achieve.
On a personal level, I have been fortunate to have met the man himself on several occasions as He was local to my home town and yes, on each occasion the hat was worn! Without directly realising it, perhaps my writing and definitely my reading was influenced heavily by Pratchett. I even got the opportunity to play Agnes Nitt in a school production of Carpe Jugulum, one of the first ever school adapted productions of one of his novels in 2001.
“When I'm talking to wannabe writers I always say, 'Read outside your genre, for heaven's sake, especially if it's fantasy and science fiction.' I have to say now I'm a history reader more than anything else. You can find plots and ideas and backgrounds everywhere. At one book fair, I was after a rare copy of the only extant book on the Romany language. My wife asked, 'Is it going to be useful to you?' and I said, 'Yes, but probably not for the reasons that I think.' And it has been, but not for the reasons I thought.” 2004 Interview
As writers, as artists, we can and some have learnt a lot from Pratchett. As already said, world building alone can be a lifetimes work, especially when you divulge further into the science and folklore of it, to the point where it feels so real you wish you could be there. At the very least, as a writer being able to understand that your personality can mould the writer you are and allowing that to transpire into your fiction can strengthen your work. Read his books, even if you are not a fantasy fan- reason some interviews or some shorter pieces if you don't want to delve into the dark alleys of Ankh-Morpork.