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About Literature / Artist Micah RossMale/United States Recent Activity
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Literature
Populus Ex Machina: Ryland
"If we don't get out of here, we're going to die!" Ryland yelled, but everyone just stared at him. He scrambled to his feet and staggered over by Jack and the professor guy, Ed something he was sure his name was.
"You knew about this didn't you!" By the time Ryland made it to them and grabbed onto Jack's collar, the pilot and the rest of the council were there. He swung on the pilot and punched him in the face.
"You must have seen it! You know we're gonna die! That's why you haven't even tried to get us home!"
The pilot jumped up from the floor where Ryland's hit had flung him and threw himself back at Ryland. Just before his hands could wrap themselves around Ryland's throat, Jack and Kara pulled him away. Ed and the doctor lady had their hands on his own arms.
"Why don't we go up to the front of the ship, and you tell us what you're talking about?" Ed began pulling him that way even before he finished speaking.
"No! Let us hear him!" someone yelled from the crowd that had gathered.
W
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Mature content
Populus Ex Machina - Layna :iconqbcperdition:QBCPerdition 0 0
Literature
Populus Ex Machina - Ed
"Yes, um, well," he started, then cleared his throat. "I think we may have crashed a bit farther from home than we thought. About 250 million years farther."
Ed took a peculiar joy in being so dramatic. Very rarely had he been in a position to deliver a news flash like this. He felt rather like the newscasters who covered the Hindenburg crash, JFK's shooting, the moon landing, and the discovery of actual life on Mars. He figured the shock of just where they were hadn't sunk in yet, and the bump he'd taken on his head during the crash may have had something to do with that. And that was a Lystrosaurus, a real live one. This was better than any dig he'd ever been on.
The man and woman in front of him were just staring at him. It was almost comical, their mouths hanging open as if they'd forgotten to close them, and the identical expressions on their faces. They could only be husband and wife. The only other people who could be so similar would be siblings, but they didn't look quite simi
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Literature
Populus Ex Machina: Jack
“This is Earth Orbital Control to transport ship 7432.”
“Go ahead EOC, this is transport ship 7432.”
“Begin final approach, drop your speed to half, and prepare to disengage from your main engines in 5 minutes.”
“Roger, EOC. Beginning final approach, speed to half, and preparing to disengage from main engines in 5 minutes.”
Back in the cabin, a flight attendant stood up in front of the passengers right as a light flashed on with a little ding.
“The Captain has turned on the seat belt sign. Please, everyone, sit up straight, secure all loose objects, and if needed, help the passenger to your left or right. We will be entering Earth’s atmosphere in approximately 5 minutes. We will then be landing at Mojave about 25 minutes later.”
Jack groaned. To his right, his wife, Kara, laid her hand on his arm. With one hand, he fumbled for the strap on his seat, with the other, he fumbled with his eyes, trying to rub the sleep away, but only su
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Literature
Snow
Snow. A suffocating blanket of blankness. Featureless and cold…damn cold. And dark. Even when the sun is up, it’s never really up. Clouds, haze, and obtuse angles make it impossible. The darkness seems to intrude, over-power, subsume, and finally, control you. You are no longer yourself, you are the darkness, and cold, and bleak nothingness of winter. Poets claim snow is like a blank slate, a winter wonderland of beauty and shining diamond-like snowflakes falling on two lovers walking in a park, with Christmas lights on every tree and a cup of cocoa in every house. They know nothing of true winter. Even the trees know the lie, all but the evergreens. They’ve bought in to the idealized version and their preeminence in the season. The other trees lose their leaves, falling like multihued tears from a thousand eyes at once. Their normal brown bark becomes gray and forlorn. The sky summons as many gray clouds as it can to cover the sky the very same way the snow covers the g
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Mature content
Fade To Black :iconqbcperdition:QBCPerdition 1 2
Literature
The Dream Of Sleep
The silence surrounds me like a tomb, my things arranged around me like the treasure interred with Egyptian mummies, standing quiet sentinel to my restless night. The heat is bad enough, but the humidity is the real killer. It gets so bad that you can't tell if your skin is slick from the air or your own sweat. Another example of imperfection in the human design, sweating only makes things worse when the air can't even hold onto the moisture it has, like a na´ve, idealistic addict on his first trip to Vegas, his money burning a hole in his pocket, and I'm the unwilling house, raking in the moisture hand over fistůand under arm and chest and back andů
        The clock glows an angry red, counting up the hours, just biding its time until the sun explodes around me, ending my night long dream of sleep and sending me spiraling into the day, with its higher temperatures and very little else to distinguish it from the eventless night. With the flick o
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Literature
Shadows On The Wall
The glow from the 78" TV flickered across their faces as they flipped the channels.
"Today, for the low, low price of-"
"-four dead people in-"
"-a smooth circular motion-"
-"you have to see to believe!"

     "Turn it back to the Wolf," Patrick's mother, Annette, said. Her waxen features turned a deathly shade of blue in the warm glow as her husband, Peter, complied, changing it back to the 24-hour news feed.
     "Tonight! Breaking! Pollution and air-borne viruses have gotten worse, now only 10 minutes is enough to kill you! What YOU need to know to keep you and your children SAFE! But first, how do you make the perfect ice cream sundae? Lucy Fontinell is here to show you how."
     "Ooh, mom! Can I have some ice cream?" Charlie asked. His dazed, blue eyes widened at the thought.
     "Not before dinner. Maybe if you're good you'll get some before bed." Annette reached ove
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Literature
Trapped
Clouds crawl across the sky.
Days like this should never die.
They do. It makes me cry.
From my bed, I see it all.
I see dusk fall,
throwing shadows against the wall.
These bars aren't real.
These wounds won't heal.
I'm trapped here of my own accord.
These thoughts of mine can't be ignored.

I stare for hours at the floor.
I pound the door.
I don't want to think any more.
I slip back into bed.
A crazy thought enters my head:
"What if I'm dead?"
I grab my ears,
twist my head and squeeze out tears.
How many more years?
These bars aren't real.
These wounds won't heal.
I'm trapped here of my own accord.
These thoughts of mine can't be ignored.

I saw my kids today.
They seem okay,
at least that's what they say.
They visit every Monday.
I never know what to say.
I feel as good when they leave as they.
These bars aren't real.
These wounds won't heal.
I'm trapped here of my own accord.
These thoughts of mine can't be ignored.

In the mirror I see myself.
I swear I look like
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Literature
Stars
The rain flashes
overhead in the lightning.
I'm sick of the wet.
I'm sick of the fighting.
Lieutenant yells
         "Drop!"
I inhale mud.
The jungle explodes,
pieces of light
fly all around me.
The clouds break apart,
the moon struggles through.
The stars look beautiful.
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Literature
NaCl
The words you said, they cut me deep,
caused blood to flow and me to weep.
I grabbed the blade to stop the pain,
then turned it on myself again.
You walked away, left me my rut
as I ground salt into the cut.
I couldn't stop, I didn't dare;
at least this proved that I could care
and feel and hurt and stay alive,
though I tried to hide it from your eyes.
I may no longer hurt myself
but truth be told, you don't need help.
Now time has passed, the wound is gone,
though the scab is thin, not very strong;
and underneath this clotted blood
all those thoughts and feelings flood.
A look or word could let them leak;
a touch could let them all run free.
Just give me time; in futures far
I'll only have a jagged scar
of puckered flesh and severed nerves
to remind me of your painful words.
But no, it wasn't all your fault
for it was I who bought the salt.
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Literature
Thirst
I hunt my prey with tact and skill
A masterpiece: my perfect kill.
But if my deeds you should behold,
before first light you'll lie there cold.
But so will I in darkness lay
forever barred from light of day.
The moon torments me with its light
a pale reflection in the night.
My thirst controls, I need a sip
To hear the sigh fall from your lip.
Before I come, I need consent
But that just takes acknowledgement,
for once you see, you can't say "No"
exquisite pain to see me go.
I mask my state: a thing infernal
And whisper of your bliss eternal.
I envy you, who soon will die
and there, but for His grace, go I.
I'd trade you places if I could,
make you the evil, me the good,
but here on earth, I'm forced to dwell;
the cool night air: my living Hell.
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Literature
On Cuban Rolled Stogies
On Cuban rolled stogies
paid for by your G's,
you lost the election
by being a sleaze.
You tried again next time
to get your first four,
but you angered the cities
when you sold out the poor.
You pissed off the people,
the poor and the rich,
the left and the right-wing,
and that Ann Coulter bitch.
You Farchadat the Jewish,
the femmes and the dykes,
the singles and marrieds,
and the ones with the tykes.
The young and old hate you;
they say you're no good.
If you want to stay living,
stay out of the 'hood.
The Christians and Muslims
agree you're a freak;
you've brought them together,
at least for a week.
You're just special interest,
your speeches all suck.
You've got no charisma
and even less luck.
You've bribed and you've swindled
to your last C-note.
It seems for the first time
you can't buy the vote.
So now you're a loser
two times in a row.
When you're at rock bottom,
there's just no where to go.
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Mature content
Stranger In The Night :iconqbcperdition:QBCPerdition 0 1
Literature
Celestial Spheres
The morning sun has gone away
replaced by the full orb of day.
And when the sun has passed its noon,
it begins its acquiescence to the moon.
The moon, in turn, ascends the sky
to watch the earth bed-down and sigh.
The stars accompany this silver sphere
unaware we're even here.
And on and on this heav'nly dance
as the seasons recede, return, advance.
We stare in wonder at the sight
as our own sphere turns from day to night.
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Literature
Day Trip
One day I went into this town
To have myself a look around
What I saw there wasn't too fair
There was no way to breathe the air
I wheezed and coughed and near fell down
The sights I saw spun 'round and 'round
The people there just looked and laughed
Whilst I lay down and tried to gasp
I tried to stand, I couldn't stay
I went to my hotel that way
I tried to sleep, but couldn't breathe
I knew that I would have to leave
I got out of there the very next day
And went back to my hometown of L.A.
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QBCPerdition
Micah Ross
Artist | Literature
United States
Current Residence: Appleton, WI
Favourite genre of music: anything but country and rap
Operating System: Windows 7
MP3 player of choice: Winamp
Shell of choice: Conch
Favourite cartoon character: Stewie
Personal Quote: "And most of all, my God, how does she make her eyes do that?"
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:iconlordboblet:
lordboblet Featured By Owner Jun 27, 2008
I would like to read more of your work, but seeing as they are very long, I do not have the time to read much more tonight. Though I do believe I will begin watching you, to see more in the future, and as a quick link to your other works.
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:iconglassocean:
glassocean Featured By Owner Mar 23, 2006  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for the fav on symphony at night.
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:iconhorusrogue:
horusrogue Featured By Owner Dec 22, 2005  Hobbyist Digital Artist
omg thank you for the :+fav:!!!!!!!!!!!
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:icongilad:
gilad Featured By Owner May 3, 2005  Professional Photographer
Thank you. G
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:icondead-ant:
Dead-Ant Featured By Owner May 1, 2005
Thanks for the :+fav: and welcome to DA:D
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:iconmadmax2002:
madmax2002 Featured By Owner Apr 24, 2005
Hey Perd, is that you Asgara is talking to? You lil baba, draw someting or I'm chucking you both out. :laughing:
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:iconqbcperdition:
QBCPerdition Featured By Owner Apr 24, 2005   Writer
I don't draw...I paint pictures in others' minds with my mad word spinning skillz..yeah, I think that's how I'm supposed to say it now-a-days. You know, girls only want guys with skillz. ;-)
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:iconmadmax2002:
madmax2002 Featured By Owner Apr 25, 2005
:D..Oh, I should've known.
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:iconshaddowed-figure:
Shaddowed-Figure Featured By Owner Apr 23, 2005
I like your work, especialy your new short story. I will be watching for more =)
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:iconqbcperdition:
QBCPerdition Featured By Owner Apr 24, 2005   Writer
Thanks...I have more on my website at [link]
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