angelaeryn

Aeryn, the Angel

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NaNoWriMo 2007 - Chapter 1 by angelaeryn, literature

Literature

NaNoWriMo 2007 - Chapter 1

When the United States government decided to open a super-secret base where the Air Force could participate in interstellar travel through a series of linked giant flush toilets, they hid it in Wyoming, at least according to a certain sci-fi show. Therefore, it should really come as no surprise that when the United States government decided to actually open a super-secret magnet university, they put it in Kentucky. No, it's not near Louisville. For those of you who know Kentucky, that is, those of you who live here, it's in Western Kentucky, and if you said, "What, like Bowling Green?" you are now exiled. Go live in West Virginia. The place

NaNoWriMo 2007 - Prologue by angelaeryn, literature

Literature

NaNoWriMo 2007 - Prologue

Prologue As the first three stars of evening blinked through the cobalt veil of the sky, marking the beginning of the day of rest, a family sat down to eat together at an enormous table. In spite of its size, however, this table was barely large enough to fit them all, so numerous were the children. Father sat, of course, at the head, with his two favored sons at his right and left hands, looking down the smooth length of the tabletop at the faces of all those dear to him. The table was laden with all the trappings of a feast, placed there among elegant dinnerware and sprawling displays of fresh flowers and greenery by invisible servant han

Fire Alarms at Midnight by angelaeryn, literature

Literature

Fire Alarms at Midnight

Fire Alarms at Midnight I'm writing a five-page essay when I should be asleep. Or rather staring at the screen until I hear a beep. A droning voice from up above says what to do instead. "There is a fire emergency," it very flatly said. My RA's fists beat on my door, she says it wasn't planned. Down we go and outside we file, like a lost nomad band. Sirens bellow and fire trucks come as we watch from the grass. We chat among ourselves and groan. Our comments are quite crass. We all scatter across campus because we can't return until the marshal is certain the building will not burn.

Labor of Love by angelaeryn, literature

Literature

Labor of Love

Labor of Love The woods smelled like woods- sweet, damp, rotting life and death. I walked through them in the heart of the night, looking for her. I shouldn't be here, and I knew it, but I couldn't help myself. The thrill was just too much. These woods belong to Bonnie and her husband, situated a good mile away from that gargantuan house of theirs. I guess that's what was so alluring: she belonged to them. I couldn't see so much as one lighted window in the house from where I was. In fact, I couldn't see ten feet in front of me, the canopy was too thick. My progress through the woods was, therefore, slower than I would have liked. There w

Breathing by angelaeryn, literature

Literature

Breathing

“Breathing” Is your breathing becoming quicker? My hand on your thigh made it thicker? Your eyes and your lungs take me in deep. And thus your soul I begin to reap, aided by the smooth taste of liquor. I touch your dress- I’ve felt none slicker- and you know better than to bicker when what keeps you from your final sleep is your breathing. A trembling jolt straight to the ticker, your eyelids start to softly flicker. In goes my knife to slaughter the sheep. What I’ve taken from you, I will keep. Sick indeed, but the one thing sicker is your breathing.

The Sum of Our Parts by angelaeryn, literature

Literature

The Sum of Our Parts

"The Sum of Our Parts" A can of Coke inside my mind is not so unlike humankind. Corn syrup makes it falsely sweet. Caramel color is deceit that only makes people more blind. Carbonated water combined so as to fizz up in a kind of display that's far from discrete. A can of Coke. By it we can all be defined, our fates with its indeed entwined. Creatures of luxury replete, all of us thinking that it's neat that to what we are all confined? A can of Coke.

Imani by angelaeryn, literature

Literature

Imani

"Imani" Imani set sail on a churning sea weaving her way through buffed boulders and to the Universe raised her plea, "Within my life a question smolders, so in this wide, wide world I seek the truth that wonder lift from my weary shoulders and see me through the blindness of youth and I beg do make me into more than this being lacking amity and ruth." And thus touched she on the first shore which in distant eyes illumined gold, 'til blood seeped in the slippers Imani wore and the true carnage she could behold. "Where did all the love go?" she wept before the disenchanted native fold. But the dumb silence they instead kept as

Mercy by angelaeryn, literature

Literature

Mercy

They were called the Angels of Mercy, but that was only true in the same way that the Ku Klux Klan were knights and teenage punks were misunderstood. They slipped in and out of the night in rural America as wraiths, lost in the shadows to the untrained eye. Rumor had it that they were a sort of coven, consisting of four sisters: Anstice, the necromancer; Artemis, the huntress; Sybil, the seer; and Aikia, the inquisitor. That, of course, was only rumor, their names mere whispers exchanged by drunken men in darkened corners of bars or playground shouts of schoolchildren who quickly learned to be more mindful of their words. Anstice could comma

Lonely Phoenix by angelaeryn, literature

Literature

Lonely Phoenix

Lonely Phoenix What to do when all the songs have been written, how to cry out without being one of the millions of voices unheard? They should've told me how not to be just a roadside attraction in my own existence. Somewhere between the kitch and the glamour, there's a shy girl with a melody nursing heartache and a cup of coffee gazing blindly into the distance. She wants to leave, she wants to die, but she'll do neither such thing. Instead, she'll just lie in the gutter and peer up at nameless stars feeling emptiness in every organ. A love unborn, a child unformed, cancer eating up her soul. Just an empty, ambling shell,

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Lemonade by angelaeryn, literature

Literature

Lemonade

Lemonade Lord, give me the serenity to accept what I cannot change, The courage to change the things I can, And the wisdom to hide the bodies of those I had to kill because they pissed me off. Maybe life gave me lemons and I made lemonade. Then I peed in it and served it to all those people who pissed me off. Or didn't you know? It is better to be pissed off than pissed on. Or maybe my father once told me this about life: "It's a black, sucking, vortex of anguish and despair. It's filled with brief moments of false hope and empty joy, But all the while it drags you inevitably closer- Closer to final, absolute, and eternal death.

A Little Deviation by angelaeryn, literature

Literature

A Little Deviation

Happy Mother's Day: The Tale of Victoria Frankenstein All I ever wanted was to be a mother, but, at the same time, all my worst experiences were born of children. Their snotty noses, sticky hands, and horrid bedwetting appalled me. Their endless questions vexed me. But worst of all was the fear in their eyes when they looked at me, the "crazy lady." Even still, I longed to create a life. There was, however, yet another problem. The only man I had ever loved, my stepbrother Eli, would not have me. So the idea came to me: I would create an adult! I know what you're thinking. You think I'm mad! It's impossible, you argue. It isn't so

The Icy Rain by angelaeryn, literature

Literature

The Icy Rain

The Icy Rain She always liked the rain, the icy needles on her skin. She always loved music, because she lost her soul to it. But her sadness would overwhelm her, consume her, destroy her. So she mimicked the rain- she took icy showers. And still she sang her music, songs of tragedy and despair. And her sadness dragged her deeper, darker, quieter. Then, one day, there was no rain, nothing to stab her icy heart. And there was no music, because there was no joy. And her sorrow was too much for her soul, for her mind, for her heart. So on a day pouring rain with an icy winter chill with a band playing music somewhere ove

HTML Blows Goats for Quarters by angelaeryn, literature

Literature

HTML Blows Goats for Quarters

HTML Blows Goats for Quarters HyperText Markup Language. Also known as: Hellish Temperamental Modern Lethargy. I kick my computer I hit it with the palm of my hand. I smash it with a mallet. I throttle the base of the monitor, Choking out its miserable life. Click-click-click. I type, type, type. Click-click. I click the mouse. And then I swear With a range and fluency No one thought me capable of. But it was the machine that was not capable Not I! Not sweet little web-designing me. Type-swear-type-swear-click. The page loads again, The colors peeling down it like wet underwear. And it's red. I know I ordered green. Or

Sticks and Stones by Aeryn by angelaeryn, literature

Literature

Sticks and Stones by Aeryn

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words have broken my heart. Something meant to be a lemon drop is instead a gulp of boiling venom. Confidence turned to doubt; a new reality painstakingly learned. In an instant, the world is changed. and it is eternally beyond redemption. Crying: it burns after so long abstaining. Teardrops stain my pillow's lavender dress. I would rather my bones be shattered than endure the sorrow permeating my soul. But it is not my choice. It has never been my choice.

2 AM by angelaeryn, literature

Literature

2 AM

2 A.M. Bleary eyes gaze at huge red numbers. Most people in this boring little town have long ago slipped into slumber. It is a raven A raven whose mighty wings refuse to stop beating the world into weariness. It is purple The subdued hues of drowsy blue but also vibrant yellow The sunshiney shade that makes me love this hour. Leno ceased his jabbering long ago. Star Trek jumped to warp an hour and a half in the past. ER was in another lifetime. But here I am- A zombie with her eyes locked on a computer screen. Tomorrow is a school day and my bed looks warm and inviting. But I am an owl The fearless one who does not sleep.

Somebody and Someone by angelaeryn, literature

Literature

Somebody and Someone

Somebody and Someone Somebody is crying a river in order to drown the whole world. Someone is crying a river with the hope that her sacrifice will nurture the world Somebody is dreaming about anger, fear, and pain. Someone is dreaming about sunshine, smiles, and peace. Somebody is thinking, "I am the weakest link." Someone is thinking, "I want to be a millionaire." Somebody is in love but thinks of nothing except rejection. Someone is in love and is finally going to speak up. Somebody is wondering, "When am I going to die?" Someone is wondering, "When am I going to start living?" Somebody sees the glass half empty and vi

Rosaline by angelaeryn, literature

Literature

Rosaline

Rosaline Rosaline had the right idea Do not love for if you love, you are weak. To let someone control you through the feelings you hold for him is stupid, childish, naive. You become a prisoner- a prisoner of yourself Rosaline rejected Romeo Imagine that! It must have been hard to pull away from Shakespeare's romantic But she did Strong of will ways of steel ideals of stone heart of ice- let it melt not, even if it is dropped and shattered Be not weak, like fair Rosaline so that you carry the hammer and not the fearful glass For hearts are broken every day Romeo, your Romeo, will recover and he will find a Juliet of

Dear Brain by angelaeryn, literature

Literature

Dear Brain

Dear Brain Dear Brain, I thought we were friends, but I see you have betrayed me. How many times have you told me that love is for the stupid, affection for the weak? How many times did you force me to refuse when asked for a dance? Four, six, twelve, fifteen? No! Twenty-four times you forced me. And twenty-four times I obeyed. And you made me happy. And then I met Him. He who shall be capitalized, for "Him" is the closest thing to His name that I will dare utter to you. What is wrong with you, Brain? Don't you understand? I can't handle the confusion you gave me! I can't handle your cruel little game! Why don't you just

The American Tragedy by angelaeryn, literature

Literature

The American Tragedy

Tragedy Breaking up, failed tests, cafeteria food, chewing gum with no flavor. They are nothing. Death. Murder. Slaughter. Devastation. Fear. Doubt. Anger. Hate. Genocide. Cruelty. How could anyone be so heartless? How can they pass out cigars while we are in mourning? Why would someone somewhere overseas delight in mass murder? Have you killed us because we are powerful or because we are American or because we are Christian or are you simply heartless- are you simply cruel? Genocide. Indiscriminate murder. Prejudice. Hatred. Holocaust. Do we face another Hitler? Will there be a war? Will there ever be pea

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angels by infernal-raynata, literature

Literature

angels

Innocence, pure white divinity... Putrecence,tainted with serenity. Feathers lighter than the air we breathe.... Anger heavier than the pain we heave... Silence sweet music to my ears That helps drown away life's fears Yet screaming as we drain ourselves of tears Heavenly voices bring back the years long since passed my eyes burn for thee Bound by words and deed to thee The memories of mortals coming back to me of innocence and pure white divinity.

Deviation Spotlight

Happy Birthday, DeviantART by angelaeryn, visual art

Happy Birthday, DeviantART

angelaeryn

About angelaeryn

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United States
Deviant for 21 years
www.livejournal.com/~angel_of_olore
She / Her

Badges

My Bio

Current Residence: Kentucky
Favourite genre of music: Anything and Everything: I say my taste is eclectic. Other people say I just have no taste at all.
Operating System: Windows XP
MP3 player of choice: WinAMP
Favourite cartoon character: Ayame Sohma of Fruits Basket
Personal Quote: "Okay, we're broke. But... we have a pie!"

Favourite Visual Artist

Salvador Dali, Jonathon Earl Bowser

Favourite Movies

The Lion King (Yes, really.)

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Blackmore's Night

Favourite Writers

Dante Alighieri, Lao Tze

Favourite Games

Tales of Symphonia, The Sims 2

Favourite Gaming Platform

GameCube

Tools of the Trade

word processor, Photoshop 7.0, Kodak EasyShare Z730

Other Interests

Anime, my friends, dancing, acting, writing, reading...

Posts

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angelaeryn

Nov 7, 2007

NaNoWriMo

0 min read

Doing NaNoWriMo? Me too! Welcome to insanity. My author link is: http://www.nanowrimo.org/user/129399 Add me, and I'll add you, and we can stalk each other creepily all month long!

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angelaeryn

Oct 27, 2007

What to Do with Drama (Not the Emo Kind)

0 min read

Alas, a journal post about drama that does not constitute flouncing, asshattery, emoness, or wank. I refer, of course, to a theatrical piece, which though it accurately fits the category of comedy, is classified as a drama for literary purposes. Now, to my point. I can't be the first deviant to have ever written a play. My question is: where do you put it!? It isn't poetry. It isn't prose. It's another art form entirely. Seeing as it is a musical, should I just submit the songs as poetry and forget the dialogue entirely? Should I go harass administration until they add a third category under literature?  Should I put it into that miscellaneo

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angelaeryn

Sep 27, 2007

Creative Writing

0 min read

I'm in a creative writing class this semester. Hopefully, it will pull me out of my literary dry spell. I didn't quit DA for a year, I just didn't write anything in that time. Sad, huh? Regardless, the work I produce for the class will be going on here. My resolution, poetry-wise, this semester is to experiment with a lot of different forms that I've never tried before. Three will be assigned, but most are of my own free will. In case you've missed them, I've posted three pieces so far: Imani - Terza Rima The Sum of Our Parts and Breathing - Rondeaux Also, since I'm back on DA and not getting many comments (since, you know, most people w

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Profile Comments 73

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AmegarixAoi

Feb 13, 2006

That collab you had a part of was GREAT

angelaeryn

Feb 19, 2006

Thanks. I wish I could take more credit for it, but really the last line is all I contributed. Still, *The-Last-Stanza has a talented bunch of people, no?

i agree

Just to say something about the-last-stanza... on notes on spelling (on the freewebs page) connection is spelt wrong on the UK section.

I should know. I'm English.

magchan

Oct 29, 2005

*sneakily leaves random luff* x3 Nyahaha~ I'm sneaky! Like a ninja... Ninja Wizard!

>3

angelaeryn

Feb 1, 2006

...Got any bears with eyebeams, my love? XD

I seriously cannot believe that it took me three months to notice your comment. I should be shot. *facepalm*

divinedecay

Aug 11, 2005

thank you for all your really insightful comments and for the fav

it's all much appreciated. When I have time (ie... when i'm not meant to be getting ready for work!) i'll come over and take a look at your gallery.