With the launch of the "Undiscovered" browsing option AND the new #SketchThis Daily Challenge, there are a TON of awesome artworks I've been finding and admiring, and I just have to share them with you guys. I'm going to be splitting this up from here out, to make it easier for you guys to tell everything apart.
I WILL be taking suggestions for this series, as well, so if you discover something while browsing the bowels of dA that you think needs to be shared, please send me ( betwixtthepages ) a note titled Undiscovered Gems.
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I hope you found something here to fall in love with and admire! Please show your support by ing or commenting on these beautiful pieces--and don't forget, I'm taking suggestions for pieces to feature in the future!
Undiscovered Gems (63)
#artwork
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#writing
ElsewhereI do not cede your life to you.
All things begin in my aching bed.
Baristas, starmen, nothing has survived the light.
The living lose their space to me.
The last fond ritual before the ghosts will be allowed their speech
is the moment that I really live, when I breed all neurotic wants at once:
to king, to beggar, to whore out every figure
yet to be betrayed by gross approximation
and dumbly muddled by these dumb fingers.
The all important touch is just a disillusioned brute
hanging like an ugly halo around an arbitrary mass
that hosts your hidden magic.
And I kill the world to have it.
What bizarre and dissolute intelligence births itself in a hot smear of thought,
infests the throbbing slums of my sentience with ideas,
hungers and machinates for a free and unkempt soul,
reams into the deep darknet to damn my lazy search for hell,
or no, but to illuminate this damning of my design
and uncouple me from centuries of tiresome ontologies?
I’ve waited for the searing sign to emblaze
dissapore smeared like bad makeup,
this Facade glides in slow-motion
on my trickling cheek,
ticking like arcade tokens,
like a lack of sleep.
i leave my fingerprints
behind on Your skin
and fade You away.
beautiful deconstruction,
form in a heap
of smudges on a crystal disk, combined,
resoiled.
death by erosion,
marks the toil of
revelation.
mature sandcastles
disa-pour from my mouth
like hurrying saliva.
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2015 11 18 1730the deaths of my children
wake me at night: thunder
and the rain doesn't stop
it makes their graves soft
but they can't tell
and i'm countries away
counting the flowers i've stopped placing on their graves
little fishing lines
bob in the water
and the city lights are dull.
Where the Dead Sleep"Tam."
He heard the whisper, but detected no movement in any of the seven tubes. Life signs remained null. No one was awake, but he knew what he had heard. It sent a chill through him.
"Shut up, Tam, and pass the damn wrench."
Tam Sutherland continued to stare at the Sleepers through the silver glow of the stasis field. The repairs had been slow, and his partner, a woman with maddening resolve, had decided talk was bothersome. It didn't matter they were the only two awake on the blasted moon. Dr. Stanton wanted nothing to do with him.
"The sooner we finish, the sooner you can go home and I can get back into meditation," she had said.
Well, Tam didn't want to go back just yet. The Sleepers had gone into stasis nearly three centuries before after the infection nearly wiped out the colony. At the time, most of their scientists and doctors were dead, and those who were left were ill equipped to fight both the parasites and the deadly radiation that trailed in the wake of the sister planet.
#SketchThis
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I hope you found something here to fall in love with and admire! Please show your support by ing or commenting on these beautiful pieces--and don't forget, I'm taking suggestions for pieces to feature in the future!