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About Literature / Professional joseph deckerMale/United States Groups :iconrote: rote
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Deviant for 11 Years
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Statistics 343 Deviations 26,899 Comments 67,955 Pageviews

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Bullets, Flowers, Leaves
I have drawers for bullets
and flowers
and leaves.
The rain sometimes comes
more sometimes than other
The sun sneaks out and splatters
waves on the wall; trees in the wind.
Bullets, flowers, leaves.
The world here is made of rocks
ground down some
and some leave me to wonder
about the works
of simple men
that do so little,
not even as much as the rocks.
Bullets, flowers, leaves.
Spring in Winter
Winter in Summer
and Fall never,
with the sea angry at your elbow
and the people the people the people
who drive the roads back and forth
howling the pavement to
the next whatever
that cannot ever arrive.
Flowers and
:iconhell-on-a-stick:hell-on-a-stick 104 48
Petrified National Forest by hell-on-a-stick Petrified National Forest :iconhell-on-a-stick:hell-on-a-stick 9 2 Tampa Bay Sunset by hell-on-a-stick Tampa Bay Sunset :iconhell-on-a-stick:hell-on-a-stick 7 5 Grand River Fisherman by hell-on-a-stick Grand River Fisherman :iconhell-on-a-stick:hell-on-a-stick 3 2 La Bella by hell-on-a-stick La Bella :iconhell-on-a-stick:hell-on-a-stick 8 14 12 Mile Beach Sunset by hell-on-a-stick 12 Mile Beach Sunset :iconhell-on-a-stick:hell-on-a-stick 4 5 Clearwater Lake, Ocala National forest by hell-on-a-stick Clearwater Lake, Ocala National forest :iconhell-on-a-stick:hell-on-a-stick 3 3 City by hell-on-a-stick City :iconhell-on-a-stick:hell-on-a-stick 0 0 Baltimore waterfront by hell-on-a-stick Baltimore waterfront :iconhell-on-a-stick:hell-on-a-stick 10 23
Long Night
On the longest night of the year
the sun struggles to rise;
and like a thief, it slides
the hood of night away without
so much as a sparkle.
Dawn sags in, with a blue-gray
pistol-light revealing
the frost-whipped ground.
Through the blackness of this
night, I
shuffle back through houses,
shackles, fields, stars of memory,
dungeon'd in secret years,
:iconhell-on-a-stick:hell-on-a-stick 14 11
You, Never
You have never seen clouds
that float through the air like ribbons;
charmed and magic space between
the plain and lake,
eerie as the sun-set darkens the reeds
and we fly toward home-
down the ribbon of asphalt snake
that had/has no head except
in my dreams.
You have never seen farmers
hock and spit out the windows
of beaten orange pick-ups
against sparkling, startling blue
winter missouri dawn, as the sun-
rise blankets the snow with painful
light and the rutted dirt roads turn
the tires, driving you along
without effort.
You have never run through spring
fields chasing after your first boy-love
bounding from fence-post to fence-post and
stepped into a hole, only to go sliding on
harsh fescue leaving welts of the whip
on your flat abdomen, to gain mother-ly
You have never masturbated out into the
ether of Estes mountains, run wild from the
group, nearly died in crashing river falls
crazed from coke, dehydration, marijuana,
endless denver beers, slept in a porno apartmen
:iconhell-on-a-stick:hell-on-a-stick 10 27
Untie the World
Mad, drunken philosophers,
Untie the world! Make merriment
a daily practice, make
unto the straight, narrow, mind
a calisthenic for the soul!
Rapture! Amazement! Awe!
Dance the night away with your
fingers, lingering (not pause) but
hands! The new might of the
century! Pecking words across
faux-page diaries in blank-white
pixel space!  
Look at the person next to you and
love them with your eyes! It's all going
to hell anyway, oil prices dropping, the
race riots of st. louis cut back to 1933
the horrors of bigotry. Do you play
the game on the train to look at a man's
hands and discover what he may do with them?
Is he a killer, a harbor worker, a farmer, evangelist,
poet or all?
Damn the confusing lying label-white
sticker-shock (shocked by label) society
that created itself!  Damn an ancient 1930's
ku klux world that wrought your present
for you without wrapping! Damn the New York
times that knew! Jews slaughtered in Germany
and Henry Ford lifting not one finger except to
:iconhell-on-a-stick:hell-on-a-stick 5 11
Some Dessert
It happens every decade
somewhere people have had
Living in cockroach
rooms, enough welfare dimes,
enough stop and frisk,
enough heads kicked in, enough
wild drive-by bullets in the night,
crack fiends at the corner,
and never a cop when you need one
but always a cop whenever you happen to
be picking up that friday night dime bag
or out in the city with your girl for a
good time.
And if they're not there in person,
they're in your mind, lurking around,
the back alley where you parked your car
because parking is too expensive, or lurking
around the corner dope-man because
it is important to stop the sale of a plant
in today's inner-city neighborhoods.
They've had enough, so much that they
rip open at the seams and explosively vomit
the contents of their environmental programming
back onto their environment. This can come in
several ways: graffiti, spoken word poetry, film-making
or looting, drug addiction, returned violence, self-violence
and then a short period of justification
:iconhell-on-a-stick:hell-on-a-stick 3 8
Vintner's Dance
I am made of wine, tonight.
Beware! I am made of wine and
unbottled. Poured out upon the land
with the madness ascending
in lush crimson spirals,
spat to the sky in bloody spray;
grape of wrath and raving
as country pond ripples
on slow, cool, spring evenings.
I have danced the vintner's dance
seen my feet and hands bloodied,
stained beyond seeing, purple-d
beyond righting or repair
and chuckled bravely, to myself,
this too, yes, shall...
I have walked the rows with the
cart, weeping to gain the harvest,
and in the heat, watered the ground
with both sweat and tears until
they refused to divide and the whole
body wept as one.
Look, at all I've done.
:iconhell-on-a-stick:hell-on-a-stick 8 9
Highway 14
There are pebbles underfoot
I've been kicking them for an hour now.
The sun, like a diamond,
I shut my eyes and the world goes sideways;
the colors of vomit:
blue against red.
My second skin is running;
I am a candle
dripping into my shadow.
The highway shoulder flexes
leaden corpuscles out
into the sky.
No sign of a car,
nothing but seven miles of heat before
I check my pockets for the 15th time
and come up with the same sweat-soaked square of paper
labeled: Camel.
I squash it so that its mouth leans open:
My face is old.
Seven days of dirt, hate and head creeps;
a headache screams behind my eyes.
My jaws clench against teeth that will never pay for themselves.
Tearing the top from the wet pack in frustration,
something tumbles to the ground.
Two somethings.
I laugh and smile,
I pick up the damned things and smile.
“Sneaky bastards,” I say to them,
“Thought you could avoid me?”
Sticking one of the camels in my mouth
:iconhell-on-a-stick:hell-on-a-stick 9 12
Rainwater in the speckled sun,
dirty tears dried
through sleepless nights
and red eyes' wailing.
The crush of gravity
rings through the trees to blast
at every wound keeping sleepless
in the barely formed winter dawn.
Cold color
and wrenching everything
out of place
is a cure of sorts.
Agony is a pure poem
unclutched, greedless;
basking under blister memory
and silent walls.
:iconhell-on-a-stick:hell-on-a-stick 10 24

Random Favourites

Opportunity Costs
My world is difficult to describe, partly because difficulty
delights me, but also because descriptions are difficult
to manipulate in general. I mean, think of terms
of stresses we place,  options and possibilities
involved in solving  puzzles of communicating
seemingly simple concepts from one person
to another, struggling with words, terms,
what is said, what is heard,  and all with
no insurance  our words won't be misheard,
abused, misconstrued,  lose their meaning
or be used against us in a court of law, when
definitions, by definition are unique to each
based on experience,  and although it's not
terribly confusing, I've not got the time to try
explaining things  to you. I'm missing much. Everything
changes, every second, every day,  
in a never-ending, incessantly
consistent way. That never changes
So you see, the problem isn't me, my
issues with weirdly worldly word use
or ability to express  impressions based
on my experiences,
:iconsssorry:Sssorry 1 0
9:45/For I
It was 9:45 when I crawled into bed, alone,
for the last time.
I am not ready, and any man who would have me
should not,
but the hole you left is worse, for now, than the shame
of needing contact
and needing to be needed.
Your love is not in absence.
It is a galaxy imploding,
it is a sun gone super nova,
it is the blackest hole in the space of my being.
I wanted to be strong for you,
to show you that I didn’t need you,
so maybe I could be the woman you wanted
I am built of hay,
not timber nor bricks
and my foundation rocks easy with the wind.
I’m sorry for the sadness that blows through your soul,
I know my carelessness is what sent it there,
but the winds threaten me at every turn and I hope that you will not think less of me
for caving in.
:iconannikaastra:AnnikaAstra 2 0
is less about flowers
than it is
about Monday mornings,
when all the world
dreads the commute,
yet I
am eager
to share a space with you.
Some dream
of serenades and starlight,
and yet
I often find myself
inside of mundane fantasies,
the simplicity
of your shower wet hair,
your sleepy-eyed
Fingers fit
so snugly together
in dashboard light
like lips and hips
in the blue glow
satellite stereo screens,
where I
long to take you
So many men
seek the perfection
wakeless dreams
that have no basis
in reality,
while I,
unlike most,
want to dive head first
into your
muddy waters
and become
tangled up in every complication
that is us.
My love --
you are the everything
I desire,
flaws and highlights,
every good
and all of your bad,
the sum
of a lifetime spent longing
for that
which only you possess,
and I
am not -ever-
going to give up on
Monday mornings,
or you,
or us.
:icondreamsinstatic:dreamsinstatic 46 21
Creator by kris-wilson Creator :iconkris-wilson:kris-wilson 3,783 345 Shadow  Notes by Sssorry Shadow Notes :iconsssorry:Sssorry 1 5 apocalypse soon by Jedfire apocalypse soon :iconjedfire:Jedfire 5 5 The Archivist by TheBrassGlass The Archivist :iconthebrassglass:TheBrassGlass 103 28 Destination Unknown by creativemikey Destination Unknown :iconcreativemikey:creativemikey 74 30
32 High Resolution Wallpapers for Download
Featuring Saadart, Leonheart, Cyg-x-1, ryannzha, finnianm, Dynnnad, IvanAndreevich, dvartworks, nagiViTy, LadyOwl, finnianm, Wroth
Today, we present you the best wallpapers in high-resolution (up to 2560x1440) to adorn your desktop or your
Check them out:
:icon7shadows:7shadows 24 33
#theWrittenRevolution joins *DailyLitDeviations
DailyLitDeviations is considered by many to be a pillar of deviantART's literature community. It serves to promote veteran community members and burgeoning writers alike – and unites the deviants in this gallery in a way that few other projects on deviantART ever have. It is truly a special initiative and deserves to remain a central part of this community for years to come.
However, DailyLitDeviations sometimes struggles to find and maintain a team of dedicated deviants to suggest written work to be featured. At theWrittenRevolution we aim to support the literature community as much as we possibly can, so we approached the head administrators to see if we could somehow help. Together we discussed the possibilities and the end result is that theWrittenRevolution's administration team is going to act as a prose admin and send in deviations to be featured in the daily news article.
We are thrilled to be given the opportunity to help serve DailyLitDeviations
:iconwrittenrevolt:WrittenRevolt 56 26
Interview with Traditional Artist John P. Thornton
Encountering the work of John Paul Thornton was a mixed experience for me. I immediately felt some empathy, anxiety and sadness. But, I'm prone to such things, and the cynic in my head started grumbling and screamed an insult or two before going off to sulk in his corner...that's how I knew I was on the right track. This may be the first time that I've witnessed art in an online setting that was trying to communicate something from the artist, that didn't have anything to do with the artist. John Paul's work is self-realizing without being self-involved. Please come and experience his work, and hear his inspireing story. He even silenced the cynic in MY head, for awhile.
:icon7shadows:7shadows 17 14
Interview with Traditional Artist John P. Thornton
This is the most inspirational Interview I've had the chance to read. John Paul Thornton really put the hook in me to go out there and accomplish what I can with my art to the very best of my ability. Please stop in and read this awesome text that he generously provided to my questions!
:iconhell-on-a-stick:hell-on-a-stick 6 0
Interview with Shadowness Staff Member Mike!
Getting personal with the staff focuses on the Shadowness Staff members and their daily lives as it pertains to Shadowness! Come check out Leiko's latest invention!
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Devious Minds: creativemikey
Discovering what makes us devious.
creativemikey :love: :iconcreativemikey:
How did you first discover deviantART?
:love: From a friend I met through Yahoo Games who is no longer on DA anymore.  She enlightened me about this amazing art site where you could share your art and get great advice from artists.  So of course I joined:D
What was it about dA that made you want to stay?
:love: The feedback, the way that the site interacted with its subscribers, the architecture in the way that it fosters creative genius within, (very positive to me), the way it brings out the "giving" aspect of myself, and to have this friendly place to keep coming back to over and over again:D

What is the story behind your username?
:love: Humm, well I think it sort of speaks for itself really.  I am an Aquarius and I stand for Creativeness and my nickname my Nephew and Niece call me is Mikey, so it was only fitting that
:iconpurpelblur:PurpelBlur 123 236
Interview with Vector Artist Rechel Bacasno
Come take a trip with me into the world of Rechel Bacasno!
:iconhell-on-a-stick:hell-on-a-stick 9 5
I have renounced my errant ways
and written some bullshit for 
this year. 
Find me and my bullshit here:…

and here:

one day,
i might upload something to the ol' Devshart, 
  • Listening to: Waves
  • Reading: my own crap
  • Watching: the sun move from here to there
  • Playing: write the poem, sleep in the tent.
  • Eating: eggs and sausage
  • Drinking: good ol oregon coffee. Dutch brothers mafia.


joseph decker
Artist | Professional | Literature
United States
There's not really too much to say. Read the poems. Look at the work. Comment. Comment. That's all that this is about. I don't have anything else in terms of biography that should need telling, really. Read the damn poems.



Add a Comment:
Thelma1 Featured By Owner Nov 26, 2016
Thank you very much for adding me to your Dev-Watch, I really appreciate your support, and I hope you'll continue to enjoy my work :thanks::love::huggle:
PrudenceWry Featured By Owner Oct 29, 2016
Thank you for sending the clouds, they were glorious yesterday and today :D
Also, thank you for watching Heart 
hell-on-a-stick Featured By Owner Oct 30, 2016  Professional Writer
I'm glad they were worthy. I did not miss them, instead, we finally got some sun! :sun:
PrudenceWry Featured By Owner Oct 30, 2016
Then it was a perfect trade :)
hell-on-a-stick Featured By Owner Oct 30, 2016  Professional Writer
Aye. We'll have to do this more often. But, i see, you've sent them back. The parishioners across the street are shaking their fists at the sky an mumbling about an apocalypse.…
(1 Reply)
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