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New. [06 Nov 2006|09:44pm]
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golden slumber

[14 Feb 2005|05:17pm]


Originally, I sent out an e-mail to as many people I could think of who would be interested in this project. Out of about 100 e-mails, I received about 40 responses. Out of those 40 responses, I only received about 5 submissions. Right now, I am very strapped for time. The deadline for these pieces was today but I am now extending it because I don't have much to go on with the few submissions I have. The amount is not substantial enough for a zine. Hence, my public LiveJournal post, which I hope reaches as many interested people as possible. Please take the time to read below if you think you might be interested in submitting a written or art piece(s) on addiction or obsession.

WHAT: Submissions for a one-time, online zine for the purpose of my final project in my Contemporary Literature class.

DEADLINE: February 21st, 2005. (Later submissions will be accepted if an e-mail is sent to me explaining what you are going to do and when you think you will have it finished.)

WHERE TO SEND SUBMISSIONS: girlruin @ papervixen.net (without the spacing) with a relevant subject line, such as "Zine" or "Zine Submissions."

THEMES: Addiction:  alcohol, drugs, self-injury, smoking, eating disorders, first-hand or second hand experiences with the aforementioned (ie. an alcoholic family member), nymphomania, Internet addiction, etc.
Obsession: celebrities, collections, technology (the Internet, cell phones, etc.), beauty/appearance (as portrayed in the media or otherwise), movies, television shows, fashion, hobbies (ie. RPG, magic cards, webdesigning), 

FORMS ACCEPTED: Written Form - Poetry, long poetry (ie. Ginsberg's "Howl"), short stories, plays (one-act or more), screenplays, articles, essays, manifestos (?),  blogs (a group of entries, not an entire blog), fanfiction, graphic stories (told in comic form, ie. Ghost World by Daniel Clowes). Artistic Forms - photography, digital art, visual art, painting, mixed media pieces, collages, etc. (Offline artwork must be scanned and sent to me in a .JPG, .BMP or .PNG file.)

-You can submit more than one piece. You can submit a written piece and an art piece. You can submit a hundred pieces, if you wish. I will try to use them all but I might have to sort through and pick the best ones you submit.

-Work does not have to be new. If you have written poems, short stories, plays, etc. in the past that are relevant to the addiction and obsessions themes, you can feel free to submit them.

-Although all forms above are accepted, they must relate to the ADDICTION or OBSESSION themes. If you are going to submit fanfiction, for example, it must deal with addiction or obsession in some way (ie. Harry Potter's dealing with his addiction to cocaine).

-Try to title your pieces. If you submit a collection of prose or artwork, try to give it an overall title.

-Please include the name OR alias you would like to be credited as.

-Profanity is allowed. So is nudity (but tasteful nudity).

-a piece on the human reliance on current technologies (computers, palm pilots, cell phones, extensive entertainment systems)
-how technology has become an extension of the human body (ie. cell phone have practically become an extension of the human hand-- I rarely see people at my school put them down)
-photography: a group of photographs (probably no more than five). A pile of cigarettes, empty alcohol bottles, emotional portraits (for example, Laura's piece here would be brilliant as some kind of comment on beauty, sexual addiction, or obsession with the human body)
-a piece on rabid fangirls and their dangerous obsessions for [insert current trendy fandom here]
-your obsessions: write about your biggest obsessions/fandoms (ie. Why I'm a Domlijah Whore)
-your thoughts on/a critique on a specific type of addiction (alcoholism, nymphomania, drug addiction, etc.) OR your personal experiences with a specific type of an addiction (whether it is your own or a friend's/family member's)
-a piece on the media and its influence on the self-esteem of young people
-what is addiction? OR what is obsession? why does it happen? is there really a "cure"?
-ANYTHING ELSE... as long as it relates to addiction or obsession
5 sleepersgolden slumber

exposed [24 Jan 2005|01:55pm]

there you stand
in all your
armour shed,
misery laid
like naked flesh,
for all the world
to see.
golden slumber

catalog of insecurities. [20 Jan 2005|08:48pm]

envy shrieks like a banshee,
circling overhead;
clawing at flesh with
razor sharp fingernails;
blood pouring from wounds:
a reminder
that you don't measure up.

another scar added to
your collection;
a library of short-comings,
forfeited chances,
and unfulfilled dreams.
an ever-evolving
catalog of failure.

please note:
      you'll never be good enough.
1 sleepergolden slumber

[20 Jan 2005|07:36pm]

I've just joined this community; many thanks for allowing me to. Below are a few pieces I've written, old to me but new to you, so enjoy.

+Collapse )
golden slumber

addiction/obsession pieces needed [20 Jan 2005|10:01pm]


I am putting together a zine and was wondering if anyone here would like to submit poetry and/or prose on addiction (alcohol, drugs, smoking, etc.) or obsession (celebrities, fandoms, hobbies, collections, etc.). Comment if interested. <3
7 sleepersgolden slumber

Apparition (Anaemia) [12 Jan 2005|09:16pm]

[ mood | nervous ]

cowering beads of sweat
retreat to the origin of fear
pores dilate, and reverse the
melancholic phases of the
phoenix stigmata.

the iridescent tears convert
to onyx, pools of oil erupt
and bleed out through the holes
of my sacrificed body.

(I'm not sure if this works, it's probably one of the shortest poems I've ever written)

1 sleepergolden slumber

when the concrete goes soft [12 Jan 2005|12:19pm]

This is hotter, heavier, than
city lights that scrape away at your insides,
this is tragedy after the shock.
The blush under my skin, it'll never be the same again.
Because I'm angry, I'm torn.
Between seeing your arm around her waist,
your mouth on her neck
and the hours we spent the night before that.

Words mean absolutely nothing with moonlight.
And neither did your touch.
6 sleepersgolden slumber

Latest Cadaver.2 [27 Dec 2004|02:56am]

You loved me, left.
I cut, you bled.
You felt my knife undressing your life.
You are the latest cadaver.
The next in line
In my series of unfortunate events.
The love of my minute.
The hate of my heart.
A serpentine touch
After you go through so much
To get the lips that you crave.
I bit the lips that you gave
Because I saw it.
The brown of your eye
Stuck on the white of my thigh.
And I'll be.
I don't need to stare
Because you're looking at me.
And I'll be.
One touch of your cheek
And you'll be mine.
I will own you
And your life
And your soul
And your love
And I will slice
And dice
Every inch
Until your pieces are small enough to devour.
And I'll be
Until I find you again.
golden slumber

they say i won't make it thirty. [27 Dec 2004|01:13am]

oh sweet,
heart murmur
am I allowed to just be
a little bit selfish?
& keep you
all to myself

i can be the light tonight
the stars & the marquee
a camera & wishes in a gutter

so, this is how
my love stretches
from a flagpole to
a door
you & me, we could
heart problems & all.
1 sleepergolden slumber

beat, yeah [21 Dec 2004|01:55am]

i wrote this for my self proclaimed beatnik day during which i drank a lot of coffee and chainsmoked while writing poetry.

a street
slick with acid rain
on this cold autumn night
humans floating through
like faded ghosts
the shadows in their faces
taste like stale coffee
and their pale lips
of week old ashes

one man on the corner of fifth
with grubby hands dancing
like soft wings over his
worn drums
has the evening's sunset
in his eyes
and another has the
next morning's sunrise
in his scribbled poetry
1 sleepergolden slumber

Brother and Friend [18 Dec 2004|03:19pm]

(I almost never write poetry and only once was I even close to happy with the results when I tried. I wrote this a long time ago, in 1987 or 1988, when I was living with two friends in Montreal.)

I have a friend
Who cries at night
Leaning against greasy glass
To the deaf and blind buses

I have a friend (don't we all)
Who laughs at night
Leaning against his window
To people, deaf and blind,
Who stand and wait for rumbling buses
And who know my friend
Perhaps as well as he knows himself.
Which is to say,
Not at all.
Which is to say,
Quite well.

Let me tell you about my brother
Who loves me (he says)
Let me tell you about my brother,
Who broke the heart of a woman
I once loved desperately;
Who knows (though I do not)
That I love him.

He is taller and thinner and younger
Than I,
And I know him no better
Than the buses
That wait outside window (sometimes they roar).

Once, long ago,
My friend (a different friend)
Tried to tell me
How we (all of us)
Are free.
And his words failed,
Or I did,
And I did not understand.

And he tried (I think)
To tell me of his love,
Of what it was, and
Maybe, just maybe,
I understood that,
As well as I have understood

Which is to say
That my soul is
An egg, unbroken for
Far too long;
If I dared
To crack it open,
What would I find?
And what would I be
golden slumber

an ode against selling yourself short [17 Dec 2004|08:45pm]

pre-made and pre-packaged.
clean up, clear out, chin up, watch out.

You are:
pretty without a purpose.
&thoughtful without a clue.

And yes, I'm angry FOR you.
Tear off the plastic, why don't you?
Sweep away the infidelities
dedicated towards what's within you.

You are:
sold before you're bought
&made up of all gloss and no shine.

And yes. I'm speaking TO you.
Why does this all go through?
Break away from what holds
yourself against you.

It doesn't have to be this way.

But you are:
pre-programmed and pre-disposed.

Don't you see, though?
I'm working WITH you.
4 sleepersgolden slumber

[15 Dec 2004|12:27am]
[edit]Collapse )
2 sleepersgolden slumber

[05 Dec 2004|09:48pm]

This community is quite dead. I am posting old things since I have been completely uninspired as of late. Don't hesitate to post old works of yours either.

English Summers

There are days where my heart thinks of
nothing but you and that isolated
stretch of beach. How these crazy days
would be much better spent with our
feet in the sand, sipping margaritas
and drowning in foolish laughter.
We would write senseless poetry and
speak our natural cynicism. So let us
declare our stamping grounds those
of England, repeat lazy summers until
the end of the world. The insanity
will somehow keep us sane.
5 sleepersgolden slumber

[31 Oct 2004|04:32pm]

3 sleepersgolden slumber

deflowering [28 Oct 2004|02:57am]

[ mood | confused ]

he peels flowers with
his nicotine stained fingers
i let him breathe on
my skin
and it feels like sweet
sugar-dipped rose petals
on my naked back
he writhes in my hands
and his voice aches
as we dance like
primitive beings
he bites into my neck
like a juicy, bleeding peach
as he gently plucks away
my petals

3 sleepersgolden slumber

entropy [27 Oct 2004|10:49pm]

Empty chaos
when daylight

Heavy silences
     took control,
dominated now
     by insincerity

and by promise,
     unease bridged
the distance
     between you

and I.

but there is
     so little
left here

     can come
of this
     (i surrender).
4 sleepersgolden slumber

doll parts; [11 Oct 2004|10:02pm]

those ethereal limbs,
fragile and pale and cracked,
aged with passing eras;
centuries in my heart.
warm porcelain doll parts
dirty, dusty, starry-eyed
treading jupiter with gentle steps
leaving gaping footfalls
on misty shores.
saturnine rings of amber
glittering, glowing,
perfumed faintly with her voice.
2 sleepersgolden slumber

first post. [04 Oct 2004|01:21am]

[ mood | sneezing. ]

our hearts are in new yorkCollapse )

4 sleepersgolden slumber

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