Writing Tournament 2014 ~ Round I by Writers--club, journal
Writing Tournament 2014 ~ Round I
Come one and come all, raise your pen take part in this grand literary battle! There are subscriptions, points, art, features, and more to be won! You all have until February 12th to enter.
The time is nigh for the Fourth Annual Writers--club (https://www.deviantart.com/writers--club) Literature Tournament!
This is a tournament for all writers welcoming prose and poetry! :la: It will be a grand competition spanning three rounds of literary challenge! :typerhappy: First of all, you must be willing to write for each of the rounds over the coming months.
There will be judging at the end of each round and those who progress to the next round will have to write a new piece for the
The pen is heavier than lead,
Yet, I think instead,
that the inking inertial flow,
would leave me amazed, surprised, aglow.
And write I would,
with a will resolute,
that will its inkling smote,
on the pearly shining moat.
I will write on in hardest of times,
with a heart that rhymes and mimes,
Have you heard of my name? Nay?
You must have in some way.
Alternately, you know it!
The springly, smiling, poet.
Esteem.
Your loneliness has spread to your eyes,
It has now become a part of who you are.
You can no longer keep contract of your own lies.
Everyone else but you can see that this has gone too far.
Your expressions and body language have become bionic.
It’s almost like the lights are on but the room has been ransacked.
What is ironic is that you try so hard to subtly avoid the topic.
I choose and use my words carefully because I know how you will react.
There is only so much I can say or do; the rest is solely up to you.
Only you c
Individuality.
These days most people are other people.
Only a few templates are distributed amongst the billions.
Maybe it’s because they see themselves as less than equals.
So they base and paste their thoughts from someone else’s opinions.
Their unfulfilled lives a mimicry.
Obtaining incompatible abilities.
Altering their figures physically.
Their passions are quotations.
Their theories are past equations.
They become victims of affiliations.
Remoulding their models into the shape of their role models.
Worshipping the words of Drake, Einstein, Rhianna and Aristotle.
Pursuing the idolised physique of a manufactured Coca Col
MCitR: Bright Lights, Big City by GentlemanAnachronism, literature
Literature
MCitR: Bright Lights, Big City
Once, he supposes, cities lit up at night.
He's seen the pictures. Nyok, back before it all came down, every street and house and skyscraper blazing like a torch. Svega, all neon signs and light-up billboards a mile long, more like a fever-dream than anywhere anyone'd actually go to. Lun-over-the-sea, with the Circle lit all round the rim like a targeting reticle. Cuver, Aussin, Scow, you look hard enough and you'll find pictures of 'em all, each as bright and shiny as if they'd had a hundred thousand base-generators powering 'em up.
Nice bright shiny targets, the way he sees it. Not as if there weren't wars back then, either - hell, they'd
Shit.
I unintentionally use it almost every day.
In a sudden hiccup, I slip up and it slips out.
Even when I can’t think of anything else to say.
You can bet beyond a shadow of a doubt.
That exact word will seep and creep out.
It makes its way into any given conversation.
It’s probably the most used default abbreviation.
It requires no effort and rolls out with no hesitation.
It’s so universal it can be suited to every situation.
In an upsurge it will emerge with no indication.
How can one word have so many definitions.
And still have the same effect despite its repetition.
How can this same word blur all the lines of di