xork

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In the Year of Our Lord 1921 by xork, literature

Literature

In the Year of Our Lord 1921

Aug. 2 Two weeks out. This far north the sun barely touches the horizon before it rises again. No wind now for three days. We have not seen the skipper since friday night, but we can hear him screaming from his cabin: "The sea has many gods!" The sea is oddly calm; his voice carries for miles. Aug. 13 No fish. This morning we dragged up the bloated corpse of a sea lion. The first mate stared long at its body before he decided that it was not a mermaid and we threw it back overboard. Aug. 23 The holds are empty still; our nets drag useless behind us. Cook says he hears bells in the distance. He has been drunk for days. T

E., It has been by xork, literature

Abal: Before the Sun by xork, literature

Literature

Abal: Before the Sun

i. Island Morning here is a brightly lit kitchen where a redheaded woman drinks black coffee and smokes by the window, half asleep but eyes open for the mail boat and for the sun. Her lips taste like salt. Things are less real out here; the walls move with the wind and light shoots out from the window — to the mainland, where men live, and farther: to where the sea is distant and the memory of her is worth no less than everything. ii. Mainland Men drown here at night. They wake up hours later in soaked sheets, their lungs still raw with salt. She knows they're out there, waiting for that one mistake

A Funeral Procession by xork, literature

Literature

A Funeral Procession

An Old Man He says, "I dreamt of an old man who travelled back in time to become himself as a boy." And the sun — older than he is, older than man — watches him disappear. He reappears seventy-five years earlier, but still here, still with us, and— We let him go. We let him go and now he has never lived. A Girl Her arms are wrapped around her body. "The dawn has a shape," she says, "and a voice, and —" she smiles — "it knows my name." Twisted so tightly around herself she doesn't even exist any more. A Funeral Procession The ships, silver paperplanes, glide

Plicity V: Girl by xork, literature

Literature

Plicity V: Girl

i. Missing Here she is — silent; screamed so much before. Only echoes, echoes now. Little girl with the dry mouth, waiting for rain. (Good girl.) When the voices come near, she slips away — remains girl. ii. Shells Elsewhere, in another time: her totality. Twenty times larger than these shells, celluloid. She transcends everything — more: forgives everything. (One small gesture.) Remains. iii. Beyond the Sea She moulds clay: faces of nameless gods, skulls of skull gods — not to touch, only to believe. Remembers a place beyond the sea, where there is no water only rock and no water; no

Plicity VI: Charlotte by xork, literature

Literature

Plicity VI: Charlotte

i. Zoë She stops screaming. She can't even feel it anymore; there's just his breath on her face: Tell me how brave you are, tell me how hard you've been trying. . . . Later. She calls herself Zoë, spends nights with a girl who is everyone -- washes her clothes, dries her hair. Closer to earth than to heaven, but holy: she's got a place for their bodies to meet. ii. Mary There is no pain, she says, I've seen you before, I know you so well. Counting the stars, waiting for morning and the light, light, light. iii. Joan He turned her into this, into these hands, into these armies. And when they come for her, -- we'll se

Ice-cream by xork, literature

Exegesis by xork, literature

Your Colors by xork, literature

5 Haiku by xork, literature

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The one thing about Contemplicity by pachunka, journal

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About xork

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Artist // Professional // Design & Interfaces

Jan 9
Sweden
Deviant for 22 years
www.fivebyfive.se/
He / Him

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My Bio

Hi.

I'm Kalle. When I'm not trying to perfect the art of obscure referential humour in the forums, I sit at a desk and look at numbers and make phone calls and write code and pretend to be an adult.

Despite appearances to the contrary, I also write poetry (some day I may even submit something). I tend toward narrative, science fictiony poetry, and have an odd fixation with fractured time lines and Gnostic mythology. Blame it on PKD, I suppose.

Favourite Visual Artist

Dieter Rams, Toulouse-Lautrec, Ultramantis Black

Favourite Movies

Blade Runner, Cube, Dark City, F for Fake, Inland Empire, The Man from Earth, Mulholland Drive, Persona, Primer, Super, The Trouble with Harry, Wilderness Survival for Girls

Favourite TV Shows

Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Corner Gas, Game of Thrones

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Tori Amos, Leonard Cohen, Grandaddy, Mark Knopfler, Ladytron, Man or Astro-man?, Joanna Newsom

Favourite Books

Anathem, Aniara, Cryptonomicon, Four Quartets, Hos rådjur, Illuminatus!, The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck

Favourite Writers

Carl Barks, Aase Berg, T.S. Eliot, Philip K. Dick, Dave Meltzer, Don Rosa, Neal Stephenson

Favourite Games

Arkham City, Dragon Age, Heavy Rain, Mass Effect, A Mind Forever Voyaging, Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 2, Uncharted

Favourite Gaming Platform

PS3, Xbox 360, Amiga

Tools of the Trade

GCC, MikTeX

Posts

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xork

Jul 25, 2012

things one no longer has to say

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»Because one has only learned to get the better of words For the thing one no longer has to say, or the way in which One is no longer disposed to say it..«

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xork

Jul 6, 2009

He flaps his wings like a zeret bird

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Been watching a lot of films lately (not the most summery activity, but we've had a lot of rain), so I thought I'd do a quick round-up.Here we go: Schlock! The Secret History of American Movies (Ray Greene, 2001). An enjoyable and informative documentary about one of the key eras of exploitation film  50s/60s American exploitation. I wish it had been an hour longer so it could've covered the 70s and 80s, but you can't get everything. Good documentary, highly recommended. La morte vivante (Jean Rollin, 1982). From US exploitation to French ditto. In this Rollin classic, Catherine (Françoise Blanchard) is raised from the dead by a

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xork

Mar 30, 2009

Things and stuff

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For some reason my new 360 won't play video or load DLC unless I'm connected to Xbox Live. Weird. And Mirror's Edge wouldn't let me create an EA account (a concept which, by itself, is fucking annoying; I pay for an Xbox Live account  let me use that, please) because I'm "too young". What the hell? Burnout Paradise gave me no such problems. Though defaulting to 48 minute days is an  interesting choice. I haven't seen Watchmen, yet, but great maker the game is boring. I liked it better when it was called Double Dragon. Mirror's Edge was not at all what I thought it would be. Talk about your good-concept-poor-execution. It's like