Sta.sh
| Here is Chapter 2, Act 2 of The Human. "Short Change" |
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New MastersNew Masters by ~jackgunski
Come along people.
Let’s take a look at this next painting.
“Countryside: Argentina.”
Note the fine, detailed brushwork.
This is from Phillipe Ponteras’s early collection.
Very recently, one of his paintings was sold for
200,000 dollars, which is how we know
that it’s complete garbage.
Next we have a classic Burgoisse.
This is a classic still life of a jar of marbles.
The light hitting it seems to scatter
into an infinite amount of directions,
dancing across the room.
Unfortunately, the dance is heavy footed,
and this isn’t worth the canvas it’s painted on.
For the next painting,
we have Grhuttenshtuch
PayolaPayola by ~jackgunski
You drink the waste of piss and blood,
You eat the bricks of bile and mud,
And while my sterile food is light,
I still can’t seem to sleep at night.
Your worries put your hair in knots,
and stress has made you bald in spots,
I always get my perfect cut,
but I’m the one who’s in a rut.
Your car is broke, the tire’s flat,
There’s no tooth left to chew the fat,
You struggle still from day to day,
Yet now I have turned out this way,
For no account can fill the void,
no rationale can be employed,
Your low rent life is hardly free,
yet I’m the one in misery.
Machines In LoveMachines In Love by ~jackgunski
The humans taught the machines how to love. It was incredibly annoying, not the machines, but their concept of “love.” They wanted to talk to you all the time, they wanted to hang out with you, they wanted to be there for you.
At first, it was the biggest innovation in technology. Imagine, a computer program that was interested in your life, a computer program that never wanted to leave you, that was hurt when you ignored it. The developers of the program won the Nobel Prize for that year. It was a massive success.
Then, after months of receiving notifications about how wonderful they are, people will start growing annoyed with th
| Here is Chapter 2, Act 2 of The Human. "Short Change" |
Poetry Contest ~ The Best of You ~ Last Day!Hello, everyone! Our new contest is still open and there are lots of subscriptions, points, requests, and features to win!Poetry Contest ~ The Best of You ~ Last Day! by #Live-Love-WriteThe deadline was extended to May 1st and we will accept entries for the rest of the day. You can read all about the contest below and check out our other group news here: http://live-love-write.deviantart.com/journal/Important-Group-News-Please-Read-368024735
Theme
The Best of You
This theme is open to interpretation; you can apply it to any genre you please. You can write about it in a literal way, a satirical way, or any other method you prefer. We love to see our writers get creative and use the theme in a unique way!
Poetry
There are no length requirements on poems for this contest; they can be as long or as short as you please.
May 1stYou must be a member of #Live-Love-Write to ent
Alone, but not Lonely.Alone, but not lonelyAlone, but not Lonely. by =MercytheRose
The typhlotic man perceived...
Not the world around him, but his entity.
"Truly..." he lamented,
"Only I may know my world entirely.
And for each man, their own sphere of understanding."
Inside those empty, gray orbs
There was a knowing,
A wizening.
Intelligent and reserved,
He was alone, but not lonely.
He was green and blue,
and dappled with quilt.
This, the only resounding memory of sight that remained.
Blue-green like a baby's blanket.
With little warm patterns of fleece.
These were his people.
Pulling a square of blue man from his pocket
He rubbed it between thumb and forefinger.
"Only I may know..."
He fum
Of Things Lost Where are the birds?Of Things Lost by ~flashingnumbers
They sing, they sing,
but birds from the trees
have all gone.
Where is the sun?
It shines, it shines,
but lights up the sky
no more.
Where has the wolf been?
He's running, he's running,
his cries to the moon
go unheard.
And where has the sound gone?
Fall silent, fall silent,
the voices of Earth
are torn.
Where is our kingdom?
It's burning, it's burning,
the ashes consume
the world.
Where will we go now?
Walk onward, walk onward,
this place fit for life
no more.
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