sammehsweet

*Miss Impossible*

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1600 by sammehsweet, literature

Literature

1600

1600 I let the afternoon settle like glitter in the water column, like stray dust motes in filtered light. Long, languid, as the luxury of watching condensation collect on the clear glass of a cool drink whose carbonation ascends within. This is indulgence unrivalled: watching sunlight as it changes from midday yellow to burnt orange. I lingered -- though the day did not. It passed by slowly, without haste, from glitter to gossamar, from stray sunlight to nebulous night.

Roulette, Page 02 by sammehsweet, literature

Literature

Roulette, Page 02

Page, 02 She had a dream in which I died. I was falling through the night. The city buildings melted in motion like wax wings, the wind wailed histrionic and tore at my seams like a harpy. City lights askew in the fall, a million stars above it all. Star light, star bright, falling faster through the night. I would shatter into a million splinters of self, like flawed glass. The wide-eye moon grew distant. The clash of cars rose in a crescendo on warm zephyrs of city steam. The night shivers so etheric, while she and I dream chimeric. Star light, star bright, the stars are all I see tonight. She hits the pavement with a fright.

Ink by sammehsweet, literature

The Dame of the Riverbank by sammehsweet, literature

Literature

The Dame of the Riverbank

I. There was a dame I saw one ev'ning fast-fading by the riverbed. She had a whimper on her lips a dewy-fever on her head. She'd wound reeds about her forehead, she gripped the grasses by the fist, she almost seemed a ghost right there, in a sparkling gown of river mist. And though I stood there silently, it was though she had felt my stare, She fixed her wide, wild eyes on me and with them, she froze me there. 'I am a dame without a heart, Alas, I cannot feel it there. I let it love, I let it live upon a romantic's fare. So I lie 'pon the riverbank and measure time in streams gone by, and wonder, sir, how can it be, I hav

Courage Wore a G-String by sammehsweet, literature

Literature

Courage Wore a G-String

The structure of estrogen consists of three six-carbon rings, one five-carbon ring, at least one hydroxyl and the “I-have-no-self-esteem” functional group. It is responsible for that excruciating pain every 28 days, those vicious mood swings and why I won’t wear lingerie for you. Estrogen, it’s all because of estrogen. I can’t actually be independent in my actions because my puppet-master is a chemical cue, a steroid hormone. I blame it for losing a grip on reality and clinging to love handles, for developing X-ray vision to see where my skeleton stops and the ‘jubbly bits’ start, for losing the courage to

Between the Pages by sammehsweet, literature

Literature

Between the Pages

Close your eyes and count lines with me, we’ll start somewhere between the pages scribing epics alongside romantics and breathing shadows into gothic dark fantasies. Just bear with me speaking in tongues, call me synesthete, with your world in imagery at my feet I’ll chase you through artistic stages and find you somewhere between the pages. Close your eyes and just write with me, we won’t dare to pause or stop to think but take the words where’er they link, can’t pause to think, or dare to chose we write with inspiration to lose: we gain a few feet, lose the meter stress, stress, distress; we ride, we

Garbage Night by sammehsweet, literature

Literature

Garbage Night

I ended it on a Saturday, leaving three days to commit memories to lemon-scented garbage bags, ‘extra durable’. Sitting at my kitchen drinking my storm in a teacup, (two sugars, cream, wayward tears) channeling Germaine Greer and bathing in the cool shadows of Dickenson’s rhyme and dark singledom. ‘Bottom’s up, here’s to you my love.’ I lay awake on Monday night. The cusp of the Tuesday dawn sounded the truck’s roar that took the pieces of him away, like body parts in celluloid, (stripped, naked and indecent) while I slept in cool sheets, whispers of lavender, bleach.

Signed, X by sammehsweet, literature

The Magnificent Madame Mim by sammehsweet, literature

Literature

The Magnificent Madame Mim

Part I: He Just Doesn't Know it Yet (Of Course) My name is Miriam Fleur, and I am secretary to the greatest, successful and hardest boiled Detective ever to grace New York City. Mickey John Ross, P.I., has never met a crime he could not solve, a ‘baddie’ he could not put behind bars, and a dame who could not fall for him. Holy mother of Mary, a glimpse of that chiseled, hard-set jaw or those broad shoulders let alone those steely grey, misunderstood eyes certainly cause my ovaries to fill with meringue. One day the two of us are going to go through the motions (all of them) to gift the world with our children, he just doesn’t

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Roulette, Page 02 by sammehsweet, literature

Literature

Roulette, Page 02

Ink by sammehsweet, literature

The Dame of the Riverbank by sammehsweet, literature

Literature

The Dame of the Riverbank

Courage Wore a G-String by sammehsweet, literature

Literature

Courage Wore a G-String

Between the Pages by sammehsweet, literature

Literature

Between the Pages

Garbage Night by sammehsweet, literature

Literature

Garbage Night

Signed, X by sammehsweet, literature

The Magnificent Madame Mim by sammehsweet, literature

Literature

The Magnificent Madame Mim

Black Ice and Bitumen by sammehsweet, literature

Literature

Black Ice and Bitumen

Black ice upon the bitumen breaks with brittle brutality underfoot. The once-verdant leaves hesitate and heave with frost; one launches – fluttering free-fall in spirals towards the hoar. Fatal and fragile ice, frozen are the flowers: fast-fading violets remain in mockery beside the four-o’clock flowers that time forgot. Call them, each and all, Endymion. Not the presentation of perfection’s preservation here, only hoarse lacrimations resonating though the ice: their interpretation of this grim caricature. &

Recipe for Bad Poetry by sammehsweet, literature

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Recycled Dreams by SilverInkblot, literature

Literature

Recycled Dreams

I was halfway down the second floor apartment stairs when I realized I'd left my left arm on the table. It's no surprise of course, for I've always had a habit of misplacing important things like keys, documents, and identification cards, but to leave one’s arm on the table is truly embarrassing. I would have run back to get it, but the bus driver is always a bit early on Tuesdays and I could already hear the distant hum of the engine making its way to me. And it's not like I really need it for work anyway. So I left it behind. It's penguins and oranges today; my latest client is a fairly normal one. The last dreamer wanted marsupia

Can't Go Back by coolcrowe, literature

Literature

Can't Go Back

"You can't go back," she said chuckling a bit as I pushed past her. I didn't understand. No, it didn't make much sense to me at all and the green light on the other side of the lake seemed to creep closer but somewhere deep down perhaps in the murky waters below perhaps somewhere inside my mind or my heart or my soul it had fallen and I knew. "You can't go back!" he called out and the voice echoed for a while. Of course I could. Oh, I could if I could only stay in the saddle on the beast as it galloped to the top of the mountain but somewhere below me perhaps on the ground rushing past perhaps from my hands clenched so

Past Our Dancing Days by barnabus, literature

Literature

Past Our Dancing Days

A kitchen. MAN and WOMAN stand centre stage, in front of a counter with drawers. They are arguing as lights fade on. WOMAN. Look. It’s called a double suicide pact for a reason. I kill myself, and then you kill yourself. MAN. Why are we doing this again? Do I have to kill myself? WOMAN. Yes. MAN. I don’t like the smell of blood. WOMAN. So what? MAN. I don’t like iron either. Probably because iron smells like blood. WOMAN. Shut up. MAN. Don’t tell me to shut up. WOMAN. When you shut up, I’ll stop telling yo

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Recipe for Bad Poetry by sammehsweet, literature

Recipe for Bad Poetry

sammehsweet

About sammehsweet

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Artist

Australia
Deviant for 17 years
www.valentinesdei.com/comic
She / Her

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My Bio

Current Residence: Computer Chair!!!
Favourite genre of music: Alternative Metal
Favourite cartoon character: Garfield
Personal Quote: "It's Sugar. Sugar is Delicious."

Favourite Visual Artist

Luis Royo, Brom, Anry

Favourite Movies

Fight Club, Aliens, Starship Troopers, Snatch

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Poets of the Fall, Hurt, Dropping Daylight, The Whitlams

Favourite Writers

R.A.Salvatore, Ayn Rand, Steven Erikson; Shelley, Byron, Coleridge, Keats, Dickenson

Favourite Games

WoW

Favourite Gaming Platform

Tools of the Trade

Matches.

Other Interests

World Domination!

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sammehsweet

Nov 2, 2011

NaCoWriMo

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I can't do NaNoWriMo. I wish I could, but with PhD fulltime and either tutoring or gym after five days I week I leave before eight and don't get home until around eight where all I want to do is destink in the shower and eat and then sleep. That being said I think I will use this month to write some Comic Projects. This month will be my NaCoWriMo hor hor hor. I want to get done: - 3 pages of Valentines Dei a week. - 1 page of Roulette done a day. - 5-10 pages of Zombie Chasers! a week. If I could do this, I would be proud. If I can get most of Roulette done with Pete that would be fucking awesome. If I could get 40 pages of Zombie Ch

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sammehsweet

Jan 19, 2011

Please Support my Dream

0 min read

I was surprised to log on and discover that a second piece of mine had been awarded a DD. This was both a shock and a joy to me. I find it ironic now that my two most light-hearted and humerous pieces have been widely recognised by this community. These days, if you still read or visit my page, you may have noticed my activity is very erratic. This is due to university commitments (as I am to start my PhD this year) and also due to around three jobs. However, there is another reason why little of my work is posted here. This is because I am now the writer of the webcomic 'Valentine's Dei' which can be found here: http://www.valentinesdei.co