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About Literature / Professional Senior Member Mike (aka Mikipedia)50/Male/United States Groups :iconminimalit: minimalit
Every word matters.
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Deviant for 11 Years
7 Month Core Membership
Statistics 353 Deviations 21,367 Comments 125,755 Pageviews

Newest Deviations

Literature
Empty Platitude
Leather journal,
handmade paper, hand bound:
too precious for words
:iconHaveTales-WillTell:HaveTales-WillTell
:iconhavetales-willtell:HaveTales-WillTell 3 3
LOL WUT :iconhavetales-willtell:HaveTales-WillTell 3 3
Literature
Privilege
If you aren't female, you don't have to worry about having your reproductive rights taken away.
If you aren't black or Hispanic, you don't have to worry about falling victim (sometimes literally) to a double standard.
If you aren't Muslim, and don't look Muslim, you don't have to worry about guilt by association.
If you aren't gay or trans, you don't have to worry about the loss of your civil rights. Or your life.
If you don't have a preexisting medical condition, you probably won't have to worry about how you're going to pay for your prescriptions. Or doctor's visits. Or hospital stays.
If you aren't near or below the poverty line, you don't have to worry about the loss of the programs you rely upon to make ends meet.
If you aren't a public school teacher, you don't have to worry about cutbacks. And what that will mean for your students.
If you aren't a grandparent, you don't have to worry about what kind of planet you're leaving your grandchildren.
This is privilege.
:iconHaveTales-WillTell:HaveTales-WillTell
:iconhavetales-willtell:HaveTales-WillTell 2 3
Literature
Ifs
My fellow Americans,
If you believe in the inviolate sanctity of an unborn child, that is your right.
If you are among those who would insist that a woman carry that child to term, but then refuse to provide the necessary financial means for her to provide for that child's continuing welfare as well as her own... then you are part of the problem.
If you are offended or disgusted by homosexuality or transgenderism, then I feel sad for you, but that is also your right. No one should be allowed to criminalize a gut reaction.
If you allow that opinion to determine who your business refuses to serve, where someone can use a bathroom, or whether two people in love ought to be allowed to enjoy the same civil and legal privileges that you do... then you are a part of the problem. Please don't criminalize a gut reaction.
If you respect women: well, of course!
If you mitigate that respect with locker room humor, with "boys will be boys", with salary caps and glass ceilings, with discouraging lit
:iconHaveTales-WillTell:HaveTales-WillTell
:iconhavetales-willtell:HaveTales-WillTell 6 1
i (heart) words :iconhavetales-willtell:HaveTales-WillTell 3 0
Literature
Eventide
Night enfolding day—
fox has donned a warmer coat;
oaks abandon theirs.
:iconHaveTales-WillTell:HaveTales-WillTell
:iconhavetales-willtell:HaveTales-WillTell 13 6
Literature
Over The Hill, Defined (No, Really!)
Attention, fellow netizens! Within this brief thesis I shall, using a heretofore untried amalgam of English and mathematics, attempt to officially derive the definition of term "over the hill" once and for all.
Ready? Let's begin.
    a) In English, 'forty' is the only number to have its letters arranged in ascending alphabetical order.
    b) Likewise, 'one' is the only such number with its letters in descending order.
    c) This makes 'forty-one' one of the very few numbers with all of its letters in an up-and-down pattern, forming a single cusp or peak.1
    d) From its shape when graphed, we shall define this particular arrangement of letters as being a 'hill'.
    e) Since 41 is by far the greatest of these hills, in both word length and numerical value, we shall further define it as being 'the' hill.2
    f) Forty-two is the first whole number greater than fo
:iconHaveTales-WillTell:HaveTales-WillTell
:iconhavetales-willtell:HaveTales-WillTell 14 12
Literature
Star Trekkin'
The Original Cast:
Star Trek: The Three-Hour Tour
Star Trek II: Bill & Len's Excellent Adventure
Star Trek III: Raiders of the Story Arc
Star Trek IV: So Long, And Thanks For All the Fish
Star Trek V: Plan Nine In Outer Space
Star Trek VI: Dances With Klingons

The Next Generation:
Star Trek VII: A Ribbon Runs Through It
Star Trek VIII: The Lion, The Witch & The Warp Drive
Star Trek IX: A Tale of Two Species
Star Trek X: The Clone Wars Saga

The Do-Over:
Star Trek: The Fellowship of the Ring
Star Trek: How I Met Your Mother
Star Trek: Revenge of the Fallen
:iconHaveTales-WillTell:HaveTales-WillTell
:iconhavetales-willtell:HaveTales-WillTell 6 13
Literature
Celebrity
Smelt.
Scavenge.
Scour.
Showcase.
:iconHaveTales-WillTell:HaveTales-WillTell
:iconhavetales-willtell:HaveTales-WillTell 6 16
Networking! :iconhavetales-willtell:HaveTales-WillTell 2 5 Team devART :iconhavetales-willtell:HaveTales-WillTell 5 2 Centrally Parked :iconhavetales-willtell:HaveTales-WillTell 3 2 It's Not Polite To Point! :iconhavetales-willtell:HaveTales-WillTell 3 2
Mature content
Eclair-ation of War! :iconhavetales-willtell:HaveTales-WillTell 6 65
Literature
A Clockwork Goldberg
The flashing, thrumming device was almost mesmerizing in its futuristic simplicity. Pulses of violet light chased each other, seemingly at random, across its front panel, while brilliant blue-white electric arcs surged upward from its central coil via a Jacob's Ladder: two tapered copper antennae reaching nearly to the ceiling. The combination cast an eerie and ever-changing series of shadows across the figures of the two men observing it.
The older of the pair was a dignified, gray-haired gentleman with a silk bow tie and bowler hat. His straining waistcoat, however, recalled slimmer days long since past; while his measured silence and slight frown spoke of an ego nearly as large as his girth. After some time, he turned to the slender brunet beside him and asked:
"This, then, is your clock?"
The younger man nodded, a quick jerky movement reminiscent of a wary passenger pigeon eying its captor. "Entirely electromagnetic. Is it not magnificent?" His voice had an odd accent: not quite Ge
:iconHaveTales-WillTell:HaveTales-WillTell
:iconhavetales-willtell:HaveTales-WillTell 12 12
Seven Years of Swag :iconhavetales-willtell:HaveTales-WillTell 4 36

Critiques


This review is based primarily on your question in chat, re: the suitability of these pieces for a group like #minimalit. I have to adm...


Wow. What a punch in the gut. You've got several things going on here. First there's your protag, Nehemiah: dutiful and loving; but bit...

Random from DDs I've Recommended

Literature
Manifest
Ah, me leg,
I shall miss ye,
Latest of the lost.
Aye, ye be Davy
Jones' lass now,
Me pretty, me foot.
Gone
Fer a chain shot
While I were topgallant.
With me left hand
Now,
And me parrot Jim,
And much o'
The lee side o' me face.
I list a bit now,
An' I've lost me sea leg,
So I'm thinkin' now's time
To leave the Pirate
Round an' head for Barbary Coast
With me coffers t' find the
pretty lass I knew when I was
But a wee thing.
If she'll still take me,
Perhaps I won't even miss the sea.
:iconcurlscat:curlscat
:iconcurlscat:curlscat 158 95
Literature
In the shoes of an Aspie
In the Shoes of an Aspie
Note: This is my experiences and thoughts on what it is like to be an Aspie. I understand others have their own experiences and opinions and I respect them for that. The reason I wrote this was a hope that those who read this gain some understanding as to how people with Asperger's live their lives. However each person is unique so their behaviour and way of life may be different to mine.
I wake to the sound of my alarm going off. I groan Ugh not again... I grope for my mobile and switch it off; the alarm is rather noisy. Here I go again; having to put on that masquerade; going undercover yet again. If only people would just understand what it is like to live the way I and many others like me have to live each and every day…..
Just imagine yourself living in a world where you see and deal with everything differently. Put yourself in the shoes of an Aspie; a person with Asperger's Syndrome. It's a high-functioning form of Autism. It's hard to
:iconObiWanSkywalker178:ObiWanSkywalker178
:iconobiwanskywalker178:ObiWanSkywalker178 315 454
Literature
Give Me a Sign
"A few more weeks and we are in the best time of year," Buford exclaimed as he walked out of the classroom with his friends. He, Baljeet, Phineas, Ferb and Isabella raised their fists into the air and shouted in unison: "Summer Vacation, Baby! Wooooo!"
"Oh, I have so many plans for this summer," Baljeet announced as he pulled out his agenda. "Aside from perhaps taking another university class at one point, I was going to go visit Mishti in India for three weeks." He hugged his agenda and looked at Isabella with a grin. "Oh, I cannot wait; I have not seen her for three years, now. It will be just like old times with her! We have already planned out every day!"
Isabella smiled at him. "I'm really happy you can go and visit her finally, Baljeet," she said. "I know how long you've been saving up your money."
"Yes; for many years. My parents agreed to pay for my summer classes if I worked to pay for the trip myself." He looked at the two inventors as the two stepbrothers stopped at their lo
:iconKicsterAsh:KicsterAsh
:iconkicsterash:KicsterAsh 304 121
Literature
passerby
raspy voice, like a demon begging for mercy.  she was
always a broken melody,
a puzzle
with no corner pieces.
i can see her,
drenched by the truth in her own
words, "i am just
a crack in the concrete,
marked
by the footsteps
of people like
you."
:iconEternalSunday:EternalSunday
:iconeternalsunday:EternalSunday 273 83
Literature
Retraction of Chlorophyll
Longer nights,
                 and shorter days,

Sinking towards the horizon,
the sun stretches itself against
pulsating veins – retracting
from margins to petiole
to stems –
           unmasking
                     green
                           from orange
              to gold,
                       to vermilion
                
:iconWetKakashi:WetKakashi
:iconwetkakashi:WetKakashi 100 31
Literature
An Apple for the Teacher
Her name was Miss Mills.  She was twenty-two years old and fresh out of college, and my son was a student in her first ever kindergarten class.  He fell in love with her on the first day of school.  He never told me this, of course, but a mother always knows.  He came home that first day and he sparkled as he told me everything that had happened, how Miss Mills had read them a story from a brightly colored picture book and how he had hung on her every word.
"And I want to get her an apple," he announced.
"An apple?" I asked.  I was peeling grapes for his lunch the next day.
"Yes," he said, "it was in the book we read today.  The kids, they gave their teacher an apple, and I think it would be a nice thing to do."
"Alright," I said, "we will get some apples.  Any kind of apple in particular?"
He thought about it.  "A big red one."
The next morning he marched off to school with his big proud apple held delicat
:iconErlebnisse:Erlebnisse
:iconerlebnisse:Erlebnisse 562 311
Young Undomiel :iconmeadow-rue:meadow-rue 3,059 264
Literature
Frames
My bike is a vintage 1973 Raleigh handed down to me by my father.  The steel frame I use to bike those forty miles to and from class every day is the same one he used on his campus, way back in the Bronze Age.  Sure, I've replaced the brakes, the shifters, the chain, the pedals, the wheels, and about half the rider, but the core of the thing is unchanged.
It's only natural, then, that I was replacing the brake cable when I discovered them.  I'd been inserting a Dremel bit to cut some sheathe when I thought to wear eye protection, and what should I find when rifling through the mess called my father's garage but a pair of glasses that could have been older than the bike I was repairing.  Safety wear, to be sure; the glasses were un-lensed, but the thick black frames were standard eye-wear right about the time NASA was sending Armstrong to the moon.  Instantly recognizable.  I used them to finish cutting the sheathe and pocketed
:iconError732:Error732
:iconerror732:Error732 101 157
Bogbrush Stamp :iconretrozombie:RetroZombie 56 90

Random Favourites

Literature
Rock, Pebble or Sand?
I was insecure.
I didn't know if I were
          a rock
               a pebble
                    or a grain of sand
     
     in your jar.
You told me I was
none of the above.

                                "You're my jar.
                                You contain me."                   
:iconcallyn:callyn
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Literature
there's a drawing room...
there's a drawing room hidden inside
my right pinky. I go there sometimes when I can't
sleep. I have found all I have to do is bring
some peaches and imagine I have a red hat on
and it will let me in. I realize that this is where I keep
my poetry, and where I kept that poem I wrote
in my dream, which I thought I had lost. It turns out
it was bad, anyway, but it was dripping with honey
so I licked it and stored it away under my left middle toe.
that is my storage closet.
my soul is located in the back of my right knee. I visit
when I can and talk to it through high frequency brain
waves when I can't sleep. it's nice, but very boring and sometimes
I don't like what it has to say. but it's my soul, and do your
brain and soul have to agree, really? God will meet me there
on occasion when I'm feeling lonely and
then he'll move and whisper into my left ear.
I can see things out of the palm of my hand.
I yell at it to start the show! Start the show! but it is limp
and can only show me a scrol
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Literature
spider
the exterminator came today.
he took all the spiders around my front door
but left their webs–
empty homes
surround me.
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Literature
Casey Dreams
Casey has
fallen asleep under a waxy tree and
woke up on the other side of a rabbit hole.
Casey writes her poetry on rocks in the forest so
people don't forget that [[she is invisible]]
Casey has inherited her fathers genes.
   she has his
   thick brown hair and his
                                  clinical depression.
She will let boys bruise her because
     she has never been told she is beautiful when
            she needed to hear it the most.
Casey falls in love with strangers because
          [[she believes they don't really exist]]
She sees eyes that crush her lungs like a land fill collapses the ocean and
     Casey know
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Literature
Memory Canyon
A plastic trash bag
Black and torn
Slowly vanishing
Down the jagged canyon
Where I pushed it to its end
I turn away
Afraid the tears I cry will cause a river
And bring the package; resurfaced
Memories; sullen sorrows
Left untouched; years passing
Unturned by an unsuspecting being
To be torched by me
Scarring
Screaming
Struggling
To let you go
Into the darkness below.
:iconinvisible2u:invisible2u
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Literature
xcutiexprincessx69
I waited a half an hour to see if you'd get online
and now that you are I'm waiting 5 minutes
to greet you so I don't seem clingy or desperate.
Then you ask about my day followed by a sideways smiley face
colon: parenthesis)
And I make up something about a 2 mile walk-
when in reality all I did was watch back to back episodes
of Star Trek: Deep Space 9.
Then I sit back and wait because you seem to be typing an awful lot,
but in 5 minutes when I receive the message it's just the letters "L O L"
A secret code that means you have nothing interesting to say,
and neither do I but comfortable silence doesn't exist on the Internet.
So I ask you "whats up?"
and fade away into a thought bubble
where your eyes are deep brown-
like a puddle on the playground.
Your blonde curls sway in the wind of an oscillating fan-
like you were going down a slide,
And your typing fingers draw scenes
with white sidewalk chalk
of squirrels crawling up pine trees
while rain spews down on a triangle house
with frow
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Today I am 50.

Tue Nov 22, 2016, 9:11 AM


Even as I type that, it just looks so wrong. I don't feel 50... except first thing in the morning. I don't yet look 50, or at least that's what most people are nice enough to tell me. But my birth certificate doesn't lie — unless my parents were a lot better at keeping secrets than I've given them credit for. :paranoid:

:bulletred: I remember looking up at my brother and sister's cribs, and thinking about how I was free and they were still trapped. I was three, and it's the earliest clear memory I have.

:bulletorange: I remember the first poem I ever wrote. "Time flies quickly, time flies fast. Before you know it, the present is the past." I was six. How prophetic.

:bulletyellow: I remember my uncle telling me to sit down next to him and watch something really important on TV. It was Nixon's resignation speech. I was seven.

:bulletgreen: I remember Bruce Jenner as the hero of the 1976 Olympics. I wanted to be just like him, as did every boy in America at the time. I was nine.

:bulletblue: I remember being two weeks too young to vote in the 1984 presidential election, and griping about how unfair that was.

:bulletpurple: I remember when the drinking age in New York went from 19 to 21, ten days after my 19th birthday. I don't remember those ten days themselves very well, though. :ahoy:

:bulletblack: I remember where I was when I heard the news that the space shuttle Challenger had exploded. And exactly what I was doing the morning of Sept. 11th, 2001. :'(

:bulletpink: I remember my first girlfriend. My first paycheck. My first trip abroad. My first 300 game. My first DD here. And at least three-quarters of all the books I've ever read.

...I guess I've lived through those five decades, after all.

Dang. :hmm:

deviantID

HaveTales-WillTell
Mike (aka Mikipedia)
Artist | Professional | Literature
United States
I'm 50 years old, unmarried, and focused on becoming a published children's and fantasy author; I also own my own business as a preschool gym teacher, martial arts instructor and birthday party host.
Interests

Lately I've been taking a metric ton of (mostly) nature photos with my phone. Would you suggest I throw them... 

74%
23 deviants said :wizardhat: Into their own folder on this account?
19%
6 deviants said :firelite-photo: Into a new stock photo account?
3%
1 deviant said :camera: Into a brand new alt account?
3%
1 deviant said :deviator: Onto my PC, and let us never speak of this again?
0%
No deviants said :trash: Out?

Visitors

:icontheemodemon:
TheEmoDemon
Apr 25, 2017
5:27 pm
:iconkronos2501:
Kronos2501
Apr 24, 2017
1:16 pm
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undauntedifly
Apr 20, 2017
5:55 pm
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Apr 19, 2017
12:44 pm
:iconwlkr:
wlkr
Apr 19, 2017
4:56 am

Regarding Llamas:

:iconllamaglomp: If I've left you a llama, the best way to thank me is by leaving me one in return. And I will always exchange llama-for-llama. :thanks:

:iconabsoluteblankplz::iconabsoluteblankplz::empllama: :llama: :emplllama:

Comments


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:iconhugqueen:
HugQueen Featured By Owner Dec 4, 2016   Writer
:hug:
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:icongunnut51:
Gunnut51 Featured By Owner Nov 22, 2016  Hobbyist Artist
:iconhappybirthdayplz:
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(1 Reply)
:iconladylincoln:
LadyLincoln Featured By Owner Nov 22, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Happy birthday, dearheart. :heart:
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:icongryffgirl:
Gryffgirl Featured By Owner Nov 22, 2016
Happy birthday! :cake:
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(1 Reply)
:iconlovely-dementress:
Lovely-Dementress Featured By Owner Jun 26, 2016  Hobbyist Digital Artist
I doubt you remember me, but I've missed you all the same!
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