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About Literature / Hobbyist Member Josef Kirby20/Male/United Kingdom Recent Activity
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I've been hearing voices
Speaking of harsh winds
That will sweep us out to sea
On this shipwreck, our self-professed home
Rusted and corroded beyond repair
I think we need to review the tape
Though that won't help change our future
Because I'm waiting impatiently
For the day when all our eyes finally close
And our hearts and minds are torn asunder
In that moment, we are run aground
Let me go back home
Back up there
I'm tired of this place
Wishing to join the collective
Wishing for the ground to dissolve
Beneath my feet
Wishing - hoping - praying, no - begging
Tired bodies, waiting for sweet release
Oh, they have it so easy
Feels like we've been stuck
On this treadmill for millenia
How I wish to see it all
Crumble before my eyes
But I don't see the glass as half-empty
I'm just standing
w h e r e
y o u
c a n ' t
s e e
m e.
The first step is influenza
Tumbling down and out the throat’s staircase
Belts tighten round this cage
Stuttering under glottal munitions
My screens are on red alert
Rising damp on the discoloured scaffolds
Their stitches don’t reach far enough
Into secret oceans
The landmines cling to you
We have not sprouted wings yet
Can this be?
Feast upon the progenitors
Fruitbat emergency, the gloves are off
Push into the borderline
Where the smell might stop you
Family in distant corners, writhing through the walls
We are kept like animals, you and I
Slipknots in our blood
The mammals have an eye trained on the machine
Plinths line the halls, shells lay atop
They may as well be a funeral pyre
It looks like they’ve come out of hiding
And they look buffer than last time
Screaming ahead of the rest of the pack
They till the soil at a breakneck pace
While the sterility pushes against
They dance to silence
Mature Content Filter is On. The Artist has chosen to restrict viewing to deviants 18 and older.
(Contains: ideologically sensitive material)
The bullion realm houses Nubian strangers
Through hushed screams, they lay polyamorous
Head of the body amputates its own limbs
One million too many in the same beds
Yes, but it wasn’t our fault
Your arms are plastic explosives
Your mouth is the plunger
Sent back through the drawing board
Natural intelligence, bleeding raw
Into this comedic loam
Subverting the pulse of vengeance
The new foundation past your shoulders
You’ll still see the clouds six feet under
Gavels came too late for most
Second brother receives dogged discipline
The shining stars in red to save the day
No more tabula rasa
A blue-rinse of eth(n)ics and “minorities”
Don’t become part of the 25%
A vast ocean
With never-ending waves
Tidal surges
Reaching the outer edges of reality
Droplets, suspended in motion
Shining brighter than a thousand suns
Creatures of the unknown
Undulating with an ethereal quality
The calm lapping of the fluid
Lulling all into floating states of being
The dangerous predator
With its explosive maw
Trailblazing the waters between swirling shoals
Whirlpools - starved, omnivorous mouths
Feeding their infinitely empty bellies

Cut into pieces for reference
Scattered algae
Repeating this local offertory
Their reluctant alms
Artefacts left behind on the children
Spinning monoliths run maternal circles
Oblivious to oblivion
As this house grows ever larger
The grains of sand falling through the hourglass
There’s still so much we haven’t seen
Still so much our minds are free to explore
Limited only by our own skepticism

Resting in our very own scald
All arrows point to here
Nothing up their sleeves
They looked different in decades
Lion-hearted soil unconditional
Lost in a perpetually divisible grid
Everything is a miracle in this state
Hanging from a thread
Cylindrifugal concepts
Bubbles trapped in their own little cases
Never to see one another

Are we really...
Are we really afraid?
Are we really...
Are we really alone?
It lives
Writhing in the bloodstream
Shapeshifting as it moves
Expulsion minus legs
The aftershock was almost orgasmic
Eternal, hissing white
Ghostly stitches, pulling themselves apart
All across the fleet

Snail razors to throats, singing the malady
He wrapped the mountains tight around me
Planting the seed in the throbbing soil
It bloomed at an astounding rate
Sirens catch the vultures by surprise
And my eyes have triggered an earthquake
Asphyxiate, you seep through the pores
Nomadic in its nature, patterns inverted
It breathes like you and I
Sculpting the frame to fit the image

IT WAKES – IT HUNGERS – IT SPEAKS
Picked the lock but broke the key
With no controls with which to steer
Careening head first for a chasm
A glint of how it feels to die
Flickering, shimmering death in your eyes
Bystanders watch in horror
Not a finger they lift can save you
For you didn’t want help in the first place

The remains will be better left buried at sea
Although the others will fall into the blue knots
Tripwire unto the unholy trinity
Switched off
Move the crosshair to the right a bit
Non-operational, under maintenance
Hair-trigger discipline
Sullen – screaming - senescent
Sapiocide
Enjoy.

~DEADMEAT
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  • Mood: Tired
  • Listening to: Sithu Aye
  • Reading: IHNMAIMS - Harlan Ellison
  • Playing: Borderlands 2
  • Eating: Pizza
  • Drinking: Pepsi
This Piece-A-Week thing's goin' pretty well, if I say so myself. 
You may also notice I'm putting up other bits too. 
I've been writing pieces with my friend Sam too, on a variety of different subjects.
I'm going to be posting another one up in a few days; fair warning, though: it's written in a two-layer cipher.
Transposition, then full-on scramble. 
It may LOOK like random letters, but it does actually say something.
Be prepared.

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DEADMEAT15's Profile Picture
DEADMEAT15
Josef Kirby
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United Kingdom
There's not a lot to say about me.

I'm a writer, musician and part-time screw-up.

I'm 18 years of age, with a taste for the odd, the unknown, the creepy and the downright fucked-up.

Should you get to know me, I'll be the best friend you never met.

There's not a lot to say about me.

Current Residence: Earth, idiot.
Favourite genre of music: Anything odd and inspired, really.
Favourite style of art: Macabre, sketchy, rough, stressed.
MP3 player of choice: My phone.
Favourite cartoon character: The oh-so-lovable stickman. :3
Personal Quote: Cold silence has a tendency to atrophy any sense of compassion between supposed lovers.
Interests

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:iconultimate-psycho:
Ultimate-Psycho Featured By Owner Jun 21, 2014  Hobbyist Photographer
:iconthankuplz:
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:iconpoisonremedy:
PoisonRemedy Featured By Owner Feb 17, 2014
Thanks for the fave man :)
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:iconcmarino:
CMARINO Featured By Owner Nov 26, 2013  Professional Digital Artist
Thank you very much for the BOOYAHZ! faves! =D
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:iconultimate-psycho:
Ultimate-Psycho Featured By Owner Nov 2, 2013  Hobbyist Photographer
:iconthankuplz:
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:iconxinsantxxramenx:
xInsantxxRamenx Featured By Owner Oct 23, 2013
So um.
I pretty much love you<3
Thanks.
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:icondeadmeat15:
DEADMEAT15 Featured By Owner Oct 23, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
D'aww. 
I love you too~<3 

You are most welcome.
Reply
:iconddmurasame:
DDmurasame Featured By Owner Oct 15, 2013  Hobbyist Digital Artist
:) <Thanks for the fav!
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:icontrance-de-anima:
trance-de-anima Featured By Owner Oct 1, 2013  Professional General Artist
Thanks for the fav :skull:
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:iconbonesthebaddie:
bonesthebaddie Featured By Owner Sep 6, 2013
Thank you for the fave~!!! :)
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:iconmarieredcarrot:
MarieRedCarrot Featured By Owner Aug 15, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the fave! A +watch would also be appreciated!
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