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About Literature / Student Core Member Juliet WintersFemale/Hong Kong Recent Activity
Deviant for 2 Years
1 Month Core Membership
Statistics 94 Deviations 595 Comments 5,414 Pageviews

Newest Deviations

Literature
Peel Slowly And See: The Anthology
For Once
There's no pang right now, which is strange because
It seems like every time I wake up these
Days, it...doesn't hurt, but I feel, y'know...
I feel bile plummet up and down my throat.
I feel last night's tears purge vitality.
I am scared to sleep, no bloody reason.
But not today. Because I don't feel a
Damn thing. Maybe it's the meds kicking in
(Tell me: how long do you reckon they'll last?)
Or maybe I'm just tired.
Either way, it's worse.
early dawn
world right behind me
sunday mourns
鬼佬
linguists
on and on chat
about nothing or all
create the best social options
for me
discuss
historians
melt wax expectations
set eyes in stone set brains in ice
prisms
friendly
you have to wait
dusseldorf scavengers
hunting for what they need and not
friendship
she's kind
he's damn obsessed
the ones for all of us
likeable kind smart socialites
implode
caffeine
Lan Kwai Fung nights
the textbooks that we read
I promise I'll be more than just
鬼佬
Sapiot
:iconLifeOfSherman:LifeOfSherman
:iconlifeofsherman:LifeOfSherman 3 2
Literature
For Jacki
When my mother found your collar in my suitcase,
I told her it was for fashion. She knows I'm a basket case
So it didn't matter when I strapped myself to bed at night
And moaned in the bathtub to give my cousins a fright.
Yes, darling, I'm a rebel, I swear. This is all
To please you, mistress, when I stop and call
For help like the helpless kitty I am,
That's what makes it fun, after all: that it's all a sham.
It's what I was supposed to do, but never got round to:
Mucking about, fucking clouts, stabbing nirvana, sharing flues.
You were so large you could inhale me, and I could curr
You round my tongue like your finger with a purr.
We were not edgy, my sweetness: we were vanilla as sin.
I just wanted to find someone who would even begin
To find me attractive. And I'm glad you did.
That's why I'm going easy. That's why I got rid
Of you. I don't believe you, my domme. I believe no-one
Who thinks I am a pretty kitty. I didn't run
Away because I hated you: that came too late.
I left becaus
:iconLifeOfSherman:LifeOfSherman
:iconlifeofsherman:LifeOfSherman 3 0
Literature
There Are No Charge Ports In The Woods
I'd like to run away from home
Because I'm scared of growing holes in my skin
Yes I know - it's never ever gonna happen
That's why it's really not the sort of thing a crazy wouldn't sing
About
And I'm not a trypophobic
Who can't tell real life from photoshop
But lately I can't instruct my brain
To shut up, sit down and stop
Cerebral jitters for hours
And prozac before bed
I don't care about exams
I just want to clear my head
So I'll bring along my ipod
Oh wait! No charge ports to be seen!
Park my sleeping bag on Lantau beach
Or street-sleep in Aberdeen
I'm not 10 years old anymore
I know what must be done
And that everything will change
If I just run run run run run
I'd like to run away from home
Because I might actually be starting to gain weight
Yes I know - my BMI is far below
Average but I eat a lot and have the muscle
Strength of a cabbage
And I'm not an anorexic
Or obsessed with vanities
But lately it seems my lovely brain
Just wants to fuck with me
Cerebral jitters for hours
And
:iconLifeOfSherman:LifeOfSherman
:iconlifeofsherman:LifeOfSherman 4 0
Literature
Kerosene
i can almost see frankenstein
breasts
stitched up, almost healed
blood
drawn from jagged butterfly scratches
scales
scabby chartreuse juniper
transform and be better, i would say,
but apparently the powers that be
won't tell me how to utterly disappear
i'll wait
palms up
for a new baptism of boiling serenity
i don't eat like air
i observe like a god
a capricious stoned messiah
or perhaps a reptile
hubbub ripples through the mirror
too weak for the wafting kerosene
this vessel is tacky
fluorescent
vermilion
with a silver top
i'm scared but not of this
(in fact i can't think why i was scared)
why would i be this-
you should try it sometime
at least then some part of you will grin
twenty or thirty
there's plenty of time for me to choose
choose to live
choose to growl when they would scream
choose to live physically
and not always be on morphine
it's like a morning cup of coffee
it's like maiming a zombie at this point
it's like you think this is more than just a quirky vice
you do realize
:iconLifeOfSherman:LifeOfSherman
:iconlifeofsherman:LifeOfSherman 4 2
Literature
gweilo
linguists
on and on chat
about nothing or all
create the best social options
for me
discuss
historians
melt wax expectations
set eyes in stone set brains in ice
prisms
friendly
you have to wait
dusseldorf scavengers
hunting for what they need and not
friendship
she's kind
he's damn obsessed
the ones for all of us
likeable kind smart socialites
implode
caffeine
Lan Kwai Fung nights
the textbooks that we read
I promise I'll be more than just
鬼佬
:iconLifeOfSherman:LifeOfSherman
:iconlifeofsherman:LifeOfSherman 2 0
Literature
Ping
What hipster disguise is a poor girl to wear?
Is an XD sweetly humorous or is it too much?
Girl, no screen or skirt can soften your glare.
She doesn't go drinking. Too much of a despair.
Tight clothes give her life, but to limbo she'll clutch.
What hipster disguise is a poor girl to wear?
She's trashy and emo and doesn't find life fair.
A silent window drones with a gnarled bored touch:
Girl, no screen or skirt can soften your glare.
She's so fetal on the floor, fingers running through her hair.
Waiting for a 'ping', anything to stop the flush.
What hipster disguise is a poor girl to wear?
Her brain is upset but knows no-one should care.
Thursday's Child caught in Sunday, in fluorescents so lush.
Girl, no screen or skirt can soften your glare.
All the mornings bring a new decision, a dare:
To hide behind clothes or the smiley girl rush?
What hipster disguise is a poor girl to wear?
Girl, no screen or skirt can soften your glare.
:iconLifeOfSherman:LifeOfSherman
:iconlifeofsherman:LifeOfSherman 2 0
Literature
This Bref Double Will Make You Twitch
When I'm visiting my therapist
I see you sitting where I do.
Arms stretched, eyes roll, cute sombre, bent shrug
You borrow my words, I feel charged. Sewn-up.
Seeing you starts off my decent days
Even when you're a pretend Communist.
I thought you'd like me just as much,
Until my dark angst got thrown up.
You're my mirror. Deal with it. Clenched fists
must be pried and dropped sometimes.
I'll always think of your lank tan wrists
While you observe the social faux pas I lug.
It's a part of life, really: shooting knowing you've missed.
But it's okay. Please accept this metaphorical hug.
:iconLifeOfSherman:LifeOfSherman
:iconlifeofsherman:LifeOfSherman 5 2
Literature
Peel Slowly And See
Peel slowly and see
What I am willing to give to you
Peel slowly and see
Why I will never say: 'what will be, will be'
Yes, of course I know what I'm getting into
I too want to protect and be shrouded when I'm blue
Peel slowly and see...
:iconLifeOfSherman:LifeOfSherman
:iconlifeofsherman:LifeOfSherman 4 0
Literature
Sherman in Europe
Fan-bloody-tastic. You are present,
You'll be willing and able. Don't ask
Any questions and you'll be lent
The answers if I want to. Drop that glass
And that insolent stare. You'll repent,
alright. You'll repent, for you trespass.
You stole my plane ticket. You trespass.
You sent a bong in the mail as a 'present'
From Amsterdam. All you've done is repent
Yourself. That's all. Don't ask
Me how I found you, and I won't ask about your glass
Eyes or how I found out about the money you were 'lent'.
What was that you said to your mates? About 'giving me up for Lent'?
You keel over and snore below the Sistine Chapel and trespass
In the eyes of the Lord above and the stained-glass
Figures of piety and sacrifice. You present
Me your puke and call it a dilemma. Don't ask
Me to forgive you or try to understand. No. You must repent.
I'll trepan you from my mind if I must - you will repent.
All the things they said, in Italy, about how you lent
Joints in exchange for a quick fuck. Don't ask
Why I w
:iconLifeOfSherman:LifeOfSherman
:iconlifeofsherman:LifeOfSherman 4 0
Literature
For Once
There's no pang right now, which is strange because
It seems like every time I wake up these
Days, it...doesn't hurt, but I feel, y'know...
I feel bile plummet up and down my throat.
I feel last night's tears purge vitality.
I am scared to sleep, no bloody reason.
But not today. Because I don't feel a
Damn thing. Maybe it's the meds kicking in
(Tell me: how long do you reckon they'll last?)
Or maybe I'm just tired.
Either way, it's worse.
early dawn
world right behind me
sunday mourns
:iconLifeOfSherman:LifeOfSherman
:iconlifeofsherman:LifeOfSherman 3 0
Literature
Chirpy
She slams the door, out on a long night's run,
His squirrel, his skylark, caged herself and now runs.
The morning's in limbo, the fog a deep dun,
His breath heaves in sync with the rain and gust runs.
Midday sun plays with frivolous fun
As fingers cross, uncross and sweat and lust runs.
The kids here are different, so don't jump the gun.
They make kinetic hieroglyphs from felt tips and rust runs.
Like many I've seen many things unravel, come undone,
But I promise, when pushed, the worst thing combusts and runs.
:iconLifeOfSherman:LifeOfSherman
:iconlifeofsherman:LifeOfSherman 3 0
Literature
Elegy 3: Storm Boy
The screen door hisses, faster than your computer monitor
And less homely than your chair. The humming and rustling of
Tomes and looming tomes is all I see. Except for grass,
And that's when I try to sleep. Three hours - I slept - at first -
To process that you'd disappeared completely. And that
Every night at dinner I could be sat bolt - upright - in the
Chair you slumped face-first in your Chinese food from.
My brother loved - and still loves - the programmed turtle toddling on your screen.
And my sister loved the garden and the grass that loved her so much it gave her eczema.
Did you remember while my Insta-cousin and her primma-mother sung 'Hallelujah',
My brother tried to dodge the funeral, and my - automaton - mother
Processed all the gift cards? When you were slumped face-first in your Chinese food?
When you were so wasted that I couldn't see the photos so now I will always remember
The frame your face is framed in better than you?
Did you remember how disgusting it was of me to
:iconLifeOfSherman:LifeOfSherman
:iconlifeofsherman:LifeOfSherman 2 0
Literature
Sapiotroph
I'll be your manic pixie dream girl, dear.
My Tumblr will be your lifeline, sweetness.
My platitudes will bore you, but don't fear!
I'll never ever leave you in darkness.
Why do you want me gone? We'll both victim
Together. Take the world by storm, help all
The poor souls from their squalor. Your dictum
Is that of a hero. Don't push, don't fall!
I see you take meds when you want to see
No-one. I will emulate your fatigue,
That lukewarm coma. Our playlist will be
So unique. They'll say I'm out of your league.
Because you see, I love you mind and heart.
And your friends, your world, won't tear us apart.
:iconLifeOfSherman:LifeOfSherman
:iconlifeofsherman:LifeOfSherman 4 5
Literature
Telegram From Lethargy
Lie down but don't sleep
Brain buzzing poor body prone
Just how I like you
I will be here until your
Vitality crumbles, then...
:iconLifeOfSherman:LifeOfSherman
:iconlifeofsherman:LifeOfSherman 6 7
Literature
Fantasy in Aubade
Your moon face buoyant on our crumpled sheets
Snuffles as I brush your spindly, broken
Hands. They're too perfect for me. Your gaze fleets
With cynical lethargy to connect
With the dawn. Too early for birds to sing,
The hills too lazy to do a damn thing.
Australia calls. You'd like it, I think.
You write poetry, I think. Words flow through
Our throats like sunbeams, words to describe dew
Perspiring under our lids as I blink
To say goodbye. But they'll be left unsaid
Forever. So I will say what I must.
Your skin is fresh as eucalyptus, head
Filled with firecracker wits. I can't say lust
Is pure but spring makes it so, turns molten
Red into carnation pink, chokes rotten
Ruminations with the force of your kiss,
Spring lets me dream of you, then stabs my heart
With a bird's mating call. If I have to
Suffer in spring, stuck in winter with you,
I'll stay here, where you can't tear me apart.
:iconLifeOfSherman:LifeOfSherman
:iconlifeofsherman:LifeOfSherman 3 0
Literature
The Osterhase Plot
The most senior nobleman in the land and the reclusive and renowned alchemist for the court of Prussia gazed into the distance at their disgusting peasant kingdom.
The fields had been flooded with a week of February rain torrents, leaving once-lush green spring fields a barren brown molasses. This surely wouldn't help the kingdom's attempts to quash the rebellion.
The alchemist turned to the nobleman in confusion.
"Sire, you do realize that I am an alchemist, not a magician? What purpose could I possibly serve in taking care of this uprising?"
"It is by order of the prince that I sought you. We are, quite frankly, out of ideas and His Highness thought that you would have the...enlightenment and knowledge necessary to aid our cause."
The alchemist chose to interpret the nobleman's indifference as flattery and looked out over the hills again, lost in rumination.
It's no wonder that we have been fighting for almost a year now, he thought. Those peasants are workers of the l
:iconLifeOfSherman:LifeOfSherman
:iconlifeofsherman:LifeOfSherman 5 15

Favourites

Literature
John and Mary
High School Blues
I was alone
My high school sweetheart left me
I loved her so much
I even contemplated suicide
My life was hollow
Until I met you
I bumped into you in the hall
You suggested we go for a burger
I reluctantly said yes
You are beautiful
But my heart was broke
Still, I went
We talked
And we laughed
And gradually my heart mended
I fell in love with you
I am afraid
Will you leave me too
_________________________________________________
Prom Night
I was so nervous about asking you out
On the Prom Night a week from tonight
But you just looked at me in the eyes
And then you smiled and said alright
I was so, so nervous on that night
You grabbed my hand and took me to dance
I adjusted my collar and looked in your eyes
You kissed me and led me to romance
I will never get tonight
Nothing ever felt so right
_______________________________________________________
Wedding Day
I was so nervous on our wedding day
Then I saw you in your bridal gown
Suddenly all my fears went away
I was s
:iconVKA3:VKA3
:iconvka3:VKA3 3 1
Literature
Heartbeats and Held Breath - an Anthology
The Dead Sparks
The ghost hollows of morning slip away from me
– one knot at a time – the breathing weighs so heavy.
I stretch myself transparent,
while the sky trembles from sighs of angels – from the noise of answers
you failed to give.
And there I discover the dead sparks, the husks of our music –
all lonely notes of smoke and bitter endings, and the relief that comes from deserting the ashes.
The Words That Never Come
How many bones must I swallow,
how many ghosts must I drink,
before the taste of you recedes
with the tide’s heartbeat – cruel and brutal –
pounding cobwebs against the shores of our memories?
The moonlight washes your footprints away,
and I am left alone – standing in the wake of your storm –
waiting, waiting, waiting
for the words I need the most – the words that never come.
Like Starlight
He smells of varnish and sweat and tobacco –
her dress is ink – his tie pistachio
:iconinkedacrylic:inkedacrylic
:iconinkedacrylic:inkedacrylic 6 4
Literature
the abandoned and overgrown
act i
the no trespassing signs declare this strip of land impassable, somewhere that can never be known.
you duck under the rusty barbed wire fence effortlessly.
the sticker-bushes throw their hands out in greeting, snagging your clothes & sketching blood on your
hands.    
your camera beats your chest with every step.
sneakers slipping, crunching; head looking either way for witnesses.
the hunt, the thrill of finding something no one's seen in so long.
act ii
you walk in & the walls bend back, shivering glass.
some ghost notes your name & fills in the blanks.
your camera flashes & you see yourself reflected in every shard, over & over.
act iii
ivy wrapping around a wrist, skin growing sad & blue.
this house makes you hurt; your eyes mirror the melancholy in the windows.
you put the camera to your eye & you could swear that the walls are weeping.
the flash lights &
:iconvvlpes:vvlpes
:iconvvlpes:vvlpes 12 2
Endings Anthology (Anthology Contest II Entry) by Sweetie-Chars Endings Anthology (Anthology Contest II Entry) :iconsweetie-chars:Sweetie-Chars 5 6
Literature
The Whale And The Squid
mama taught me the birds and the bees;
you taught me the whale and the squid,
underwater, reading being & nothingness,
still can't find the white whales, behind
a looking glass, tropical weather
under our nose but baby boys
don't swim in mud, so I apologize
if the monsters don't jump out the water.
:iconDylanSeto:DylanSeto
:icondylanseto:DylanSeto 21 5
Journal
Writing Challenge - 2 - Belief
With the success of Challenge 1 now under our belts, it's time to move on to the second of our group activities.
The latest poll tells me that you guys are excited to go for another Story Challenge and so without further ado I deliver the new proposal.
Challenge 2 - 'Belief'
"Gods and Goddesses are nothing new, throughout history mankind has created deities or beings to believe in, in order to explain existence.
The world is constantly changing however, and these beings, once revered, must give way to new beliefs - changing and evolving to adapt, or dying in a time that no longer needs them."
Your Task
Browse the 'characters' below and write a short extract from their point of view. Poets, you may also join! You may write more than one for this challenge, you are no longer limited to one character - but remember, if you end up working in collaboration with other writers in this, it's more considerate to them, and easier to maintain,
:iconWritersInk:WritersInk
:iconwritersink:WritersInk 7 43
Literature
Fusion of Cons
"Fusion of Cons" is when two or more cons are fused together in one big scheme.
Being tricked on top of being tricked and not knowing if things are what they seem.
"Fusion of Cons" is also when many cons seem like one big con, outweighing the pros.
Wanting to do something but because of it, you don't know what you should and just suppose.
"Fusion of Cons" is thus an unlucky situation with contradicting features, creating illusion.
Resulting in loss of motivation, agony and a general state of bewilderment. In other words... Confusion.
:iconDarknessFlower:DarknessFlower
:icondarknessflower:DarknessFlower 4 2
Literature
Pride of a Nation
fear coalesced with doubt, crystallizing in the pit of her
stomach—intestines rotting with hatred, she prayed as
the men passed by, eyes tightened against winter winds
while drums beat to a somber march…her heart dropped,
cerulean blood pooling around the soles of her feet, hidden
from the oxygen filled air none of them could help but breathe
as the torches’ fire filled the sky and knapsacks overran with
precious goods…flee the city, they all did, with the pride of Russia
behind them, their homes lay as ashes and towns known only by
their wooden signs…snow shrouded the land and covered the people
born in a winter only world—she took a single breath and turned away
facing a new fate, one buried in snow no different from where she came.
:iconLightOverpowers58:LightOverpowers58
:iconlightoverpowers58:LightOverpowers58 14 6
Literature
A Winter's Plea
As the sun burns my pale shoulders
I sigh
Wishing for a cold snap
A frigid breeze that creeps up my shirt
I remember the constant snow
The hearth ablaze
Your cold hands on my cheeks
Using my body heat to warm you
In the winter we thrived
Snowy white, pristine
Venturing outside
But always coming in from the snow
Together
Changing with the seasons
Growing in the spring
I want a never ending winter
With you
I like your body cold
My hands like kindling
Set your heart aflame
Until you venture out again
:iconprettyflour:prettyflour
:iconprettyflour:prettyflour 22 18
Literature
Framed Lives
A smile here, a laugh there.
Top of the world, nothing compares.
Post it up for the world to see.
Showing everyone how happy I can be.
"I'm doing good, life's treating me kind.
Nothing's wrong, everything's just fine."
Everyone seems to be doing the same
putting their lives into pretty frames.
Strip away the lies, scrub off the paint
and all you get is the aching pain.
It's all just a game, we all want to win.
But when do we get to shed our skin?
:iconWindMeister8:WindMeister8
:iconwindmeister8:WindMeister8 46 37
Literature
Playthings
It doesn't matter what the hell I think,
To touch you while I'm breathing down your neck.
It doesn't matter if you want to strut,
You know you love it and I don't forget.
Approaching you is walking razor's edge,
The times we don't connect are pretty rare.
'Cause taking you at once is on my mind,
And when you sulk I'm Johnny on the spot.
I know when you think I'm not watching you,
The way you stroke your mane before the mirror.
I pull out all my toys that buzz & twitch
And come up from behind to show you which.
You turn to face me and you take your pick,
As if regarding bouquets that I hold.
The brazen in you turns me inside-out,
Delighting me with playthings of your own.
:iconJade-Pandora:Jade-Pandora
:iconjade-pandora:Jade-Pandora 5 2
Literature
Serendipity and Snowfall
I am la vie en rose,
a newborn with as many mini bones in my body as possibilities.
Lovelily,
I am potential waiting to be tapped into.
I am a spectrum of light,
serenity in the symmetry of a snowflake.
I come veiled in lace from everlasting love's womb with my budding,
fresh,
goose-flesh tucked tenderly underneath.
I spread my spirit wide,
outstretching my feather-tips &,
supplicated by twizzles,
I catch my ballerina's foot & fly.
In these fleeting,
finite moments of ubermensch suspension in multiple salchows comes clairvoyance,
a kindness beyond the absolution of mundane minds.
With the key to perfection being repetition,
I pray you watch me as I molt my flaws away under the wondrous,
winter sun.
I shall soar,
from my axel I shall spiral sublimely on the outskirts of onlookers' smiles-
as well as my own,
& I shall skimpily,
silkily,
glide through the snowflake strata unto the star-studded shangri-la.
I find my freedom in a winter only world.
Let me lease into my
:iconSammur-amat:Sammur-amat
:iconsammur-amat:Sammur-amat 49 79
Literature
Then at Last, Rain
Petrichor and psithurism
Soliloquy: a solipsism
Rewrites winter's palimpsest:
A threnody for season's rest.
:iconcopper9lives:copper9lives
:iconcopper9lives:copper9lives 7 4
Literature
Fairy Tails
Fairy tales are fairy tails...
Nice and shiny, long, colorful tails.
The thing is, for every beautiful fairy tale...
A fairy lost it's precious tail because of being frail.
This side of the story remains unseen or is only looked at airily...
For every hero happily singing there is a fairy in pain, exhaling wearily.
 
:iconDarknessFlower:DarknessFlower
:icondarknessflower:DarknessFlower 3 0
Literature
Sincere Reflections - Poem
Lavender, jasmine, rose, and lilac
Peony, ebony; dark silk-soft curled back
Eyes of deep blue and a smile like the sun
The soft red of her cheeks; not a powder put on
She is beautiful... elegant...
And all just as she is
Even without the frail flowers
She insists enhance it...
Her countenance shines as radiant light from pure soul
All the brighter when unguarded
And safe by me more aglow...
Her moods fast flow through me
As though we were one
Her pains and her sorrows
I feel as though they're my own...
Yet even as tears fall upon these paths tread
Her hand in my own; my heart soars free of regret...
For what could I not face with her ever here by my side?
I've been given an angel...
And I've made her my bride
:iconShimmeringDewdrops:ShimmeringDewdrops
:iconshimmeringdewdrops:ShimmeringDewdrops 17 17

Critiques


I found this poem an enjoyable read. I particularly enjoyed your choices in terms of punctuation and line breaks. They were well paced ...

Groups

Activity


So it turns out that I've been on here for two years, and I've finished all my exams today too.
This calls for a celebratory nap.
A bit of a prelude to something fun I might be writing soon. Have any of the following things happened in any of your dreams?
31%
4 deviants said A combination of the above (comment below)
15%
2 deviants said Dreaming in the 3rd person (as in, not being in your dream and watching it from the outside - almost like a movie)
15%
2 deviants said Other weird things (comment below)
8%
1 deviant said Being someone else in your dream
8%
1 deviant said Imagining things your brain may not be able to come up with while you're awake (eg complicated artworks or Shakespearean dialogue)
8%
1 deviant said Promising yourself that the next time you lucid dream, you'll make yourself experience a certain scenario, and then forgetting to do that when you next lucid dream
8%
1 deviant said Consciously 'rewinding' your dream and changing it to make it more impactful
8%
1 deviant said Being unable to perform simple tasks even though you want to (eg running and speaking)
0%
No deviants said Transitioning from a lucid dream to a non-lucid dream (ie, when you forget that you're dreaming)
So.
Y'all asked for a contest (and I'm busy with upcoming exams and have little time to write), so I shall provide a contest.
This ought to be fun - let's do this!

Le Contest In Un Nutshell


Everyone, no matter the discipline, stands on the shoulders of giants. From individual historical figures to entire artistic movements, everybody's discipline and innovations are influenced by the works of those who came before us in some way. Your mission for this contest, should you choose to accept it, is to write a piece based on the style of a certain author, poem or story.

You may imitate any aspect of the original work that you choose, but the main thing I want to see is commitment to the decisions you make. So, if you select Shakespeare for example, you will be judged more favorably if you try and imitate the way his characters speak and the real essence of his work, than if you just randomly write something in iambic pentameter.

Some Friendly Advice (because I'm nice like that)

Still confused? Fair enough.
Here are some examples of factors you may want to keep in mind when choosing your muse and how you will pay homage to it. The best works will combine many of these aspects:
  • Dialogue (eg: the Elizabethan diction of Shakespeare)
  • Style (eg: the frantic ramblings of Sylvia Plath)
  • Format (duh - eg: do you want to go with Orwell's essays or his dystopian fiction?)
  • Genre (duh again)
  • Motifs (eg: fire in a bunch of stuff by Ray Bradbury)
  • Themes (eg: the feminist themes in Carol Ann Duffy's work)
  • Rhyme and meter (eg: the distinctive rhyme scheme in Philip Larkin's Aubade)
  • Plot (eg: Roald Dahl's dark premises and plot twists)
  • Also, parody, satire and pastiches are allowed if that's more your scene (eg: I'd personally love to see a John Green parody...hinthint)
If you have any more questions or need any tips, feel free to comment and I'll get back to you asap

Rules

  • The piece you submit has to have been published after this journal was written, so apologies but no old entries. If you want to write a piece and submit it to other contests along with this one, that's fine as long as it fits the theme and the criteria of this contest.
  • You can write in any style you want: poetry, prose, essays, interpretive dance, whatever
    • BUT prose and essays must be limited to under 2000 words
    • There is no word limit for poetry, but please be reasonable
  • Mature content is allowed, but if you use the over-18 setting then I won't be able to read your work
  • Please do the following when submitting your entry:
    • Tag me in the description and/or leave a comment on this journal with a link to your entry
    • Write a paragraph in your description explaining which author/literary work you decided to base your entry on, what aspects of the work you were trying to replicate and why you chose it
    • Include a link in the description to an online form of the piece you based your entry on
    • Include a link to this journal so others who see your work may choose to enter
  • If I can work out how to do it, I will create a folder to put all of the entries in and link that folder in this journal so y'all can suss out your competition.
  • You don't have to promote this contest in a journal or status, but it will make me very happy, and if you do, please tag me and link to this journal.
  • Deadline is the 30th of June
    • To allow for timezone differences, I won't officially close entries until the 2nd of July
  • I will be judging pieces based on the following criteria:
    • Originality and creativity (within the bounds of the competition of course)
    • Technique, style and use of language
    • Spelling, grammar and punctuation
    • Structure/plot
    • How much the essence of the original work is captured
And now for the only reason that you guys will probably be doing this:

(sur)Prizes!

If you want to donate anything at all to reward the wonderful winners of this contest, please let me know in the comments and I'll add you to the list.

Everyone who enters will receive:
  • A llama from me
  • A critique on their work from me
  • A feature in the results journal from me
Depending on how many entrants we get and how many extra prize offers I get, I may also think of some joke prizes to give to everybody who enters, but they'll be kept secret...

Third Place Prizes:
  • 500 points from me
Second Place Prizes:
  • 750 points from me
First Place Prizes:
  • 1000 points from me
So...that's pretty much it! Find your inspiration and get writing!
Best of luck! :)

For Once
There's no pang right now, which is strange because
It seems like every time I wake up these
Days, it...doesn't hurt, but I feel, y'know...
I feel bile plummet up and down my throat.
I feel last night's tears purge vitality.
I am scared to sleep, no bloody reason.
But not today. Because I don't feel a
Damn thing. Maybe it's the meds kicking in
(Tell me: how long do you reckon they'll last?)
Or maybe I'm just tired.
Either way, it's worse.

early dawn
world right behind me
sunday mourns

鬼佬
linguists
on and on chat
about nothing or all
create the best social options
for me

discuss
historians
melt wax expectations
set eyes in stone set brains in ice
prisms

friendly
you have to wait
dusseldorf scavengers
hunting for what they need and not
friendship

she's kind
he's damn obsessed
the ones for all of us
likeable kind smart socialites
implode

caffeine
Lan Kwai Fung nights
the textbooks that we read
I promise I'll be more than just
鬼佬

Sapiotroph
I'll be your manic pixie dream girl, dear.
My Tumblr will be your lifeline, sweetness.
My platitudes will bore you, but don't fear!
I'll never ever leave you in darkness.
Why do you want me gone? We'll both victim
Together. Take the world by storm, help all
The poor souls from their squalor. Your dictum
Is that of a hero. Don't push, don't fall!
I see you take meds when you want to see
No-one. I will emulate your fatigue,
That lukewarm coma. Our playlist will be
So unique. They'll say I'm out of your league.
Because you see, I love you mind and heart.
And your friends, your world, won't tear us apart.

For Jacki
When my mother found your collar in my suitcase,
I told her it was for fashion. She knows I'm a basket case
So it didn't matter when I strapped myself to bed at night
And moaned in the bathtub to give my cousins a fright.

Yes, darling, I'm a rebel, I swear. This is all
To please you, mistress, when I stop and call
For help like the helpless kitty I am,
That's what makes it fun, after all: that it's all a sham.

It's what I was supposed to do, but never got round to:
Mucking about, fucking clouts, stabbing nirvana, sharing flues.
You were so large you could inhale me, and I could curr
You round my tongue like your finger with a purr.

We were not edgy, my sweetness: we were vanilla as sin.
I just wanted to find someone who would even begin
To find me attractive. And I'm glad you did.
That's why I'm going easy. That's why I got rid

Of you. I don't believe you, my domme. I believe no-one
Who thinks I am a pretty kitty. I didn't run
Away because I hated you: that came too late.
I left because you infected my mind with second-rate

Hypnotic pseudo-philosophic bullshit. A real girl
You're not yet, don't forget it. You curled
Around our friendship with your masculine arms
And made me invent a real girl to ease all the qualms

I had about taming someone who I didn't even love.
I didn't appreciate you treating me like someone from above
Your abyss falling in slow motion. I was, and I did,
But I didn't need you to say that. Fact is: we're just kids.

I miss Jacki and her curves and her cake icing pink hair.
But as for you, you cunt, frankly, at this point I don't care.

There Are No Charge Ports In The Woods
I'd like to run away from home
Because I'm scared of growing holes in my skin
Yes I know - it's never ever gonna happen
That's why it's really not the sort of thing a crazy wouldn't sing
About

And I'm not a trypophobic
Who can't tell real life from photoshop
But lately I can't instruct my brain
To shut up, sit down and stop

Cerebral jitters for hours
And prozac before bed
I don't care about exams
I just want to clear my head

So I'll bring along my ipod
Oh wait! No charge ports to be seen!
Park my sleeping bag on Lantau beach
Or street-sleep in Aberdeen
I'm not 10 years old anymore
I know what must be done
And that everything will change
If I just run run run run run

I'd like to run away from home
Because I might actually be starting to gain weight
Yes I know - my BMI is far below
Average but I eat a lot and have the muscle
Strength of a cabbage

And I'm not an anorexic
Or obsessed with vanities
But lately it seems my lovely brain
Just wants to fuck with me

Cerebral jitters for hours
And prozac before bed
I don't care about exams
I just want to clear my head

So I'll bring along my ipod
Oh wait! No charge ports to be seen!
Park my sleeping bag on a Central curb
Or street-sleep in Aberdeen
I'm not 10 years old anymore
I know what must be done
And that everything will change
If I just run run run run run

I'd like to run away from home
Because it's all part of a plan
You see, I think I've found the key this time
To planning my demise

Yes, I know I'm a bad person
And that I deserve to die
But for some reason my selfish brain
Just wants to curl up and cry

So one of two things will happen:
I'll connect with nature and be well,
Or I'll demoralize myself
So much I'll take myself to hell

So I'll bring along my ipod
Oh wait! No charge ports to be seen!
Park my sleeping bag on a mountain's edge
Or street-sleep in Aberdeen
I'm not 10 years old anymore
I know what must be done
And that everything will change
If I just run run run run run

I know that everything will change
If I just run run run run run

It'll make for such a lovely change
If I just run run run run run

Ping
What hipster disguise is a poor girl to wear?
Is an XD sweetly humorous or is it too much?
Girl, no screen or skirt can soften your glare.

She doesn't go drinking. Too much of a despair.
Tight clothes give her life, but to limbo she'll clutch.
What hipster disguise is a poor girl to wear?

She's trashy and emo and doesn't find life fair.
A silent window drones with a gnarled bored touch:
Girl, no screen or skirt can soften your glare.

She's so fetal on the floor, fingers running through her hair.
Waiting for a 'ping', anything to stop the flush.
What hipster disguise is a poor girl to wear?

Her brain is upset but knows no-one should care.
Thursday's Child caught in Sunday, in fluorescents so lush.
Girl, no screen or skirt can soften your glare.

All the mornings bring a new decision, a dare:
To hide behind clothes or the smiley girl rush?
What hipster disguise is a poor girl to wear?
Girl, no screen or skirt can soften your glare.

Kerosene
i can almost see frankenstein

breasts
stitched up, almost healed
blood
drawn from jagged butterfly scratches
scales
scabby chartreuse juniper

transform and be better, i would say,
but apparently the powers that be
won't tell me how to utterly disappear

i'll wait
palms up
for a new baptism of boiling serenity
i don't eat like air
i observe like a god
a capricious stoned messiah

or perhaps a reptile

hubbub ripples through the mirror
too weak for the wafting kerosene
this vessel is tacky
fluorescent
vermilion
with a silver top

i'm scared but not of this
(in fact i can't think why i was scared)
why would i be this-
you should try it sometime

at least then some part of you will grin

twenty or thirty
there's plenty of time for me to choose
choose to live
choose to growl when they would scream
choose to live physically
and not always be on morphine

it's like a morning cup of coffee
it's like maiming a zombie at this point
it's like you think this is more than just a quirky vice

you do realize that i have never lied to you?

i only sterilize myself to stop you from crying again
no matter
it stings more

under the shirtsleeves
and over your woeful gazes
seeping through in ketchup stains and lumps

i know you know that i know i'm
right
see if i care when it hurts

dear god it hurts


Chirpy
She slams the door, out on a long night's run,
His squirrel, his skylark, caged herself and now runs.

The morning's in limbo, the fog a deep dun,
His breath heaves in sync with the rain and gust runs.

Midday sun plays with frivolous fun
As fingers cross, uncross and sweat and lust runs.

The kids here are different, so don't jump the gun.
They make kinetic hieroglyphs from felt tips and rust runs.

Like many I've seen many things unravel, come undone,
But I promise, when pushed, the worst thing combusts and runs.

This Bref Double Will Make You Twitch
When I'm visiting my therapist
I see you sitting where I do.
Arms stretched, eyes roll, cute sombre, bent shrug
You borrow my words, I feel charged. Sewn-up.

Seeing you starts off my decent days
Even when you're a pretend Communist.
I thought you'd like me just as much,
Until my dark angst got thrown up.

You're my mirror. Deal with it. Clenched fists
must be pried and dropped sometimes.
I'll always think of your lank tan wrists
While you observe the social faux pas I lug.

It's a part of life, really: shooting knowing you've missed.
But it's okay. Please accept this metaphorical hug.

Elegy 3: Storm Boy
The screen door hisses, faster than your computer monitor

And less homely than your chair. The humming and rustling of

Tomes and looming tomes is all I see. Except for grass,

And that's when I try to sleep. Three hours - I slept - at first -

To process that you'd disappeared completely. And that

Every night at dinner I could be sat bolt - upright - in the

Chair you slumped face-first in your Chinese food from.

My brother loved - and still loves - the programmed turtle toddling on your screen.

And my sister loved the garden and the grass that loved her so much it gave her eczema.

Did you remember while my Insta-cousin and her primma-mother sung 'Hallelujah',

My brother tried to dodge the funeral, and my - automaton - mother

Processed all the gift cards? When you were slumped face-first in your Chinese food?

When you were so wasted that I couldn't see the photos so now I will always remember

The frame your face is framed in better than you?

Did you remember how disgusting it was of me to not show up?

Well - I do.

'When I was one I had just begun. When I was two I was barely new.'

'Hey there! Hoopla! The circus is in town!'

'Little boy kneels at the foot of the bed...'

Learning to count - with a girl and her teddy

A story - that you taught me to adore - of a boy - who finds a pelican - in a storm

You never finished your memoirs.

You were only a quarter of your life through.

Sherman in Europe
Fan-bloody-tastic. You are present,
You'll be willing and able. Don't ask
Any questions and you'll be lent
The answers if I want to. Drop that glass
And that insolent stare. You'll repent,
alright. You'll repent, for you trespass.

You stole my plane ticket. You trespass.
You sent a bong in the mail as a 'present'
From Amsterdam. All you've done is repent
Yourself. That's all. Don't ask
Me how I found you, and I won't ask about your glass
Eyes or how I found out about the money you were 'lent'.

What was that you said to your mates? About 'giving me up for Lent'?
You keel over and snore below the Sistine Chapel and trespass
In the eyes of the Lord above and the stained-glass
Figures of piety and sacrifice. You present
Me your puke and call it a dilemma. Don't ask
Me to forgive you or try to understand. No. You must repent.

I'll trepan you from my mind if I must - you will repent.
All the things they said, in Italy, about how you lent
Joints in exchange for a quick fuck. Don't ask
Why I wanted you dead. Because I didn't. But you trespass
On my brain, trample over everything, and then just leave. Present
Your case, then, while I search your apartment for the sacks of glass.

I used to hate the cold stare you gave through the glass
While it fogged with my condensation. You're not going to repent
For your parasitic locus and I can't make you. I was never present
In the moment with you there - why did you/I do that? - but I lent
You all the debris I carried in my eyes from you. You trespass,
And you have the balls to- y'know what? I won't even ask.

I won't even ask
What you're sipping from that glass,
But the fact is that you trespass
And you must repent.
Please give back all I lent
And then, in my mind, please don't be present.

How did it end? Well, I did ask him but he said he didn't know how to repent.
His skin was a sickly grey, like dirty glass, and I remembered why I lent
On him in the first place...he didn't trespass: he was my present.

Peel Slowly & See
Peel slowly and see
What I am willing to give to you
Peel slowly and see
Why I will never say: 'what will be, will be'
Yes, of course I know what I'm getting into
I too want to protect and be shrouded when I'm blue
Peel slowly and see...
Peel Slowly And See: The Anthology
It's here! It's finally here! All my poems! In an anthology! For the fabulous MagicalJoey's anthology contest!
Here are the details - there's still time: MagicalJoey's Anthology Contest II
Please enjoy! And if you have any more questions about the poems, please feel free to comment down below. I'd also be interested in knowing which poems were your most and least favorite, and if the anthology flowed together nicely as a whole.
For the purposes of submitting my work to thewrittenrevolution, here's a link to a critique I did for Rarified Word by Same-side: 
comments.deviantart.com/1/6749…

And here's the link to the status I promoted this contest in, so I can get those sweet juicy bonus points: lifeofsherman.deviantart.com/s…

Every poem in this anthology was based on the songs in order on my favorite album of all time: The Velvet Underground and Nico (except for the last one, which was kinda based on the cover). All of these poems are also autobiographical with particular focus on my experiences with clinical depression and the stuff that led up to that. Yes, cheery topic I know, but I've got to get this out of my system somehow! I also wanted to go back to some poetic forms that I loved and also try out a few new ones, so each poem has a different form.

And now, a brief explanation of all the poems:

For Once (haibun - based on Sunday Morning)
I love the dreamy feel this song has, but it turned out that Lou Reed wrote it about the paranoid silence you feel when you've spent all night partying and then everything is quiet when the next day arrives. I wrote this after spending a long night doing homework at the last minute and spiraling down into a depressive episode in the process. It's that feeling of being so tired you're soothed and yet being super paranoid at the same time.

鬼佬 (cinquains - based on I'm Waiting For The Man)
This one probably has the least connection to the song it was inspired by, but I wanted to slightly replicate the consistent rhythm of the song in the cinquain structure and the line that goes: 'hey white boy, what you doing up town?' made me think a little about city life in Hong Kong, and eventually I decided to write about the closest thing I can call a group of friends that I have, and how they might see me and how I want to fit in with them.
Oh, and the title is pronounced 'gweilo' and is a Chinese slang term for white people which is usually derogatory but in a fun jokey way, like referring to someone as a stereotypical white person.

Sapiotroph (sonnet - based on Femme Fatale)
Pretty straightforward, really. The song's about a dangerous woman, I wrote from the perspective of a woman who's dangerous in a different way. This is also kind of based off the subject of the next poem, too, but it's also commentary on the sort of bullshit I hate seeing in real life and in characters from YA novels.
The title is a portmanteau of 'sapiosexual' (people who are sexually attracted to intelligence) and 'saprotroph' (an organism that feeds on dead organic matter).

For Jacki (rhyming poem - based on Venus In Furs)
Honestly this poem's been coming for a damn long time, and the link to the song is pretty straightforward again. This song's about BDSM, I wrote about BDSM. The relationship I was in wasn't all that serious (hell, we never even kissed) but at the time it was ridiculously fast, confusing, raw, arousing and ultimately really disappointing. This person and I aren't really on good terms now, and I don't have a problem with that.

There Are No Charge Ports In The Woods (song -  based on Run Run Run)
Clue's in the title. The weird way my anxiety works is that it latches onto the weirdest things to worry about for no reason: from trypophobia and my weight to running away and general hypochondria. I've always been anxious, which is why I wanted to run away from a while. The title comes from the fact that I used to imagine travelling on trains listening to music and being free...until I realized that there'd be nowhere I could charge my ipod.
If anyone wants to come up with some instrumentation for this, be my guest and send me a note.

Ping (villanelle - based on All Tomorrow's Parties)
This one's about two things: the struggle of choosing between looking good to make myself feel better, or looking bad to hide myself from everyone else, and the anxiety that comes with talking to people and trying to get approval, especially on social media. The girl in the song reminded me of just how pathetic I can be sometimes.

Kerosene (free verse - based on Heroin)
My favorite song on the album. For Lou Reed, it was heroin. For me, it was cutting and burning myself. The poem's supposed to be a tad more ambiguous, so I won't say any more about it.

Chirpy (ghazal - based on There She Goes Again)
I love the rhythm of this song, especially when it syncopates towards the end. It always puts me in a good mood, and I was trying to convey what it feels like and just how much of the world you notice and experience on the rare days when your meds work and you actually feel connected to the world. The first couplet was also based on the ending of A Doll's House by Henrik Ibsen.

This Bref Double Will Make You Twitch (bref double - based on I'll Be Your Mirror)
This is for someone who I love very much but doesn't like me back. The poem's deliberately awkward and bizarre as hell because that's generally what both of us are like. He's been a very big help for me during all my own crap just simply for being a consistent, warm positive, funny and smart presence, and he doesn't even realize. I'm super grateful for him, and it's okay that he doesn't feel the same way, but I think we're both gonna have to deal with the fact that I'm not going to stop admiring him for a long while.

Elegy 3: Storm Boy (prose poem - based on The Black Angel's Death Song)
I wanted to replicate the fast onomatopoeic stream-of-conciousness feel of the song.
I wrote this one for my grandpa, who died from skin cancer almost a year ago. In many ways his death kickstarted my downward spiral and we both had a love of literature that I'll never forget. I love him, and I'll never forgive myself for not being able to go to his funeral.

Sherman In Europe (sestina - based on European Son)
I've always wanted to write a sestina but never worked out a good narrative for it.
I also deliberately made this one super long because the original song deliberately has hardly any words. Irony!
Sherman is the pet name I give to my depression, and the relationship I have with it is complicated. Of course it fucking sucks, but at the same time there are moments where I don't want to get better because it feels good to be sad and cathartic sometimes or I feel like I deserve it. Personifying my illness has given me a greater connection to it, which is a massive double-edged sword, so consider this kind of a weird fanfiction about the aftermath of my depression leaving me to go to Europe.

Peel Slowly And See (rondelet - based on the album cover)
Just a nice little rondelet that I thought rounded off the collection well. It explains what I want to do for people and yet can't seem to manage right now.
Loading...
I shall shill this once again: MagicalJoey's wonderful anthology contest.
Do it.
He seems awesome.
The entries are awesome.
I'll give you virtual hugs if you do it.
Doooooooooo it.
MagicalJoey's Anthology Contest II

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LifeOfSherman's Profile Picture
LifeOfSherman
Juliet Winters
Artist | Student | Literature
Hong Kong
Hello! My name's Juliet and I'm an aspiring writer. I mainly enjoy short stories and poems (because of my short attention span) but will attempt pretty much any genre or style. Also, be sure to check out my journal entries for WIFLIs, where I review and discuss various books. Sadly, I don't have any artistic talent but I'm hoping my writing will make up for that.

I always try to return reviews, llamas, favs and other such amazing things and if you have any writing prompts or requests, feel free to ask. Enjoy!
Interests

A bit of a prelude to something fun I might be writing soon. Have any of the following things happened in any of your dreams? 

31%
4 deviants said A combination of the above (comment below)
15%
2 deviants said Dreaming in the 3rd person (as in, not being in your dream and watching it from the outside - almost like a movie)
15%
2 deviants said Other weird things (comment below)
8%
1 deviant said Being someone else in your dream
8%
1 deviant said Imagining things your brain may not be able to come up with while you're awake (eg complicated artworks or Shakespearean dialogue)
8%
1 deviant said Promising yourself that the next time you lucid dream, you'll make yourself experience a certain scenario, and then forgetting to do that when you next lucid dream
8%
1 deviant said Consciously 'rewinding' your dream and changing it to make it more impactful
8%
1 deviant said Being unable to perform simple tasks even though you want to (eg running and speaking)
0%
No deviants said Transitioning from a lucid dream to a non-lucid dream (ie, when you forget that you're dreaming)

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Comments


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:iconladylincoln:
LadyLincoln Featured By Owner May 17, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for your :+fav:, dearheart. :heart:
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:icondylanseto:
DylanSeto Featured By Owner May 16, 2017   Artist
Hey~~

Just wanted to thank you for the fave!

Also, since I'm currently focusing on music, I was wondering if you'd be interested in listening/sharing my music?

If you are, I can link you to where you can find that stuff!

-Dylan Seto
Reply
:iconlifeofsherman:
LifeOfSherman Featured By Owner May 17, 2017  Student Writer
Sure I'd be happy to give it a listen. Do send me a link! :)
Reply
:icondylanseto:
DylanSeto Featured By Owner May 18, 2017   Artist
Okay!

Here: youtu.be/rW4aWmjmcU0

Let me know what you think :)

And if you like it, sharing it would be cool too. ;)
Reply
:iconmagicaljoey:
MagicalJoey Featured By Owner May 15, 2017   Writer
Thanks for the watch :)
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:iconwindmeister8:
WindMeister8 Featured By Owner May 7, 2017
thank you for the fav~ :glomp:

please do check out my other works (poetry,prose,stories) if you're interested! XD
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:iconhaegun:
Haegun Featured By Owner May 5, 2017
Thanks for the faves
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:iconladylincoln:
LadyLincoln Featured By Owner Apr 27, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the :+devwatch: I appreciate the support!

With love,
:heart:
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:iconpsto1464:
psto1464 Featured By Owner Apr 19, 2017  Student Writer
Commission for renekotte - Plz account 
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:iconcerealnovels:
cerealnovels Featured By Owner Apr 15, 2017
Thank you!
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