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How the CV Do
For nine years, BlackBowfin has been a steady presence in the dA literature community. He has applied his expertise, professionalism, and kindness toward his work as a Community Volunteer for the past year. We've appreciated him. The countless hours he has spent to make dA a better place for literature are without price. BlackBowfin is stepping down from his position as LitCV this month and we will all miss his contributions greatly.
We’d like to say thank you for everything you’ve done!
"We'll definitely miss having Scott as a CV - he did a great job running the show!" - neurotype-on-discord
"Scott has always treated the CV position with the professionalism, responsiveness and follow-up that I would expect from someone on DA's paid staff, yet he does this for free, while juggling a full-time career (that requires frequent travel) and parenting on top of everything else. He's a gentleman, and a fine example of why the Lit community here is awesome." - Memnalar
"Thanks for all your hard work, Scott! It was always a joy to serve on the CV team with you. Welcome to the seniors’ club and enjoy your well-deserved rest." - akrasiel
"I'd like to thank him for helping me settle into the CV position, for making me feel welcome as he did so, and for all the work he's done in keeping the monthly lit DD chats running smoothly." - GDeyke
"I enjoy working alongside BlackBowfin over at CRLiterature. He is always wonderful about being supportive of all of us, and more than willing to reach out a helpful and caring hand whenever it is needed. He will be missed as a CV, but I am sure he will keep shining a positive light here within the Literature Community. Thank you for everything, Scott!" - LadyLincoln
" BlackBowfin is a talented writer and a gracious person. I hope that he will continue being a big part of our Literature Community." - JessaMar
" BlackBowfin is not only a champion of the Lit Community at large, as well as a great supporter of my own scribbling, but he is a terrific guy and talented poet in his own right." - YouInventedMe
"Thank you, Scott, for all you've done, as a fellow writer, a Community Volunteer and a friend. DeviantArt is better for having you here!" - SingingFlames
Deviations by BlackBowfin
Another Flower
a heavy late april snow
crushed the tulips
outside our office;
as i approach,
they lean toward me
blooms burst ragged
rarely viewed
from this angle,
they become another flower
another season,
a dying red and broken green
both yellowing
they're autumn in may;
all the same certainty
with expectations of otherwise
straining their stalks
even further sideways
and i step quickly by
like i don't see
or feel
that same season
setting the weight of its skies
on me
hanging its own
identically shaped mass
of dying dreams
cleverly behind my own,
so that when i leave
it follows
and concealed, it sways
in time with mine
hung from my rearview mirror
ra
What We Wantthere is nothing simple about
what we want of this ghost
nor what it wants of us
our every word
ticks familiar nothings
along the rotary travel
of the context dial
and behind every note
of our skyward intentions
chirps the same
swirling nightful of insects
a mechanical enmeshment
of barbs strumming harpstrings
in prayers that somehow
its echo chamber might rename us
might not know us, might not realize
there's nothing
holding the strings taut
but myth and magnetic repulsion
i have a recurring dream
that i awake alone
in the backseat of a car
barreling down the highway
and from what i dream-remember
i'd already been dri
How Our Pieces Fitthis imagined echo
might as well be real
in how it hollows human words
into the most forgettable
of goodbyes
our animal cell membranes
are conditioned
to envelop distractions;
to swallow as truth
even the slightest indicator
that we’re able to control anything
not as in any-and-all-things,
but, any one thing
the projections we become
forge sub-projections to pilot
and meter the conditions
of their sub-struggle
to the point of convincing them
they might survive
just like we assume
we’ll solidify,
before time wastes us entirely
and our capacity to love
sheds like a morning fog of dream
yet, sometimes hope
ma
Where Nothing Dares Settlewe assume the fish
that appears to advance
without moving
does so, effortlessly;
as if the sea itself
merely wills them forward
we long to swim like this
to hold our position
in the universe
while the earth
churns its oceans past,
as if its motion
were ours
and perhaps it might be
if we could only comprehend
how much lag
truly resides
in the linkage between
space and time,
then we'd know water
like it knows us
our ins and outs
and the low places
where nothing dares settle
for long
we'd know why sleep evades
when we're most spent,
as memories
older than our own
activate,
once we traverse
a certain set proximity
Look a Second Timethe last remaining nail
holding our hot-orange
saucer full of sun
above us
is about to let go
and, as the drywall cracks,
i’m back to boyhood
and my grandfather
sits across the breakfast table,
train noises trailing
from the corner of his mouth;
he looks past me
tracking something, left to right
in the window behind me
what?
oh, it's the little train, runs 'long the sill'
i turn around and i’ve missed it
and soon as i return to my plate
wait.. (a distant) woowoo fades right
missed again;
how i wish i still wanted
to turn around
and look a second time
that table’s now likely lonely
in landfill quiet,
the window sold
house
Addictionan ageless sentinel descends upon
our quiet cloud of dream
the darkly filtered bloodmoon's light
disguises its machine
its modulations pulse in frequencies
that nearly ring of home
through smudgepot skies of smoke and rot
they inch as worms through loam
for only signals barely capable
of reaching us, ever will
they rematerialize, once through the cloudwork
and drop down quieter still
they land on apex padding and
recollect, wolf-quiet and ready
in hunger springs bunched tense and yet
its drive's relaxed and steady
patient in the certainty of our past
our patterns lived as prey
in how we're baited by its ghost lines
luring minds and hearts
DD Features by BlackBowfin
indelible in the hippocampus is the laughterShe said, “the laugh – the uproarious laughter between the two—”
and all I hear is my heart beating a question,
‘Hey, can you guys pick me up?
I shouldn’t walk eight minutes in the dark.’
“And their having fun at my expense”
hasn’t happened to me yet
but as the sun sets my ears ring
‘Is it only a matter of time?’
“I was, you know, underneath one of them”
as I will be underneath bundled clothes
reciting old winter delusions come November,
because oversized coats could somehow save me:
sometimes the other party ‘forgets’ their moral coat
and doesn
In Mist, AttritionIn the corridor to waking
there is all of you before the culling, --
the continuation of dreams,
ghosts of ghost moments,
memories undesignated
sweeping the stair in reverberations of you;
the window is pregnant with
a swing set, or steps to
solitude in a path -- schematics,
the having to do away with one or the other
staved from the serrations
between you, and another, or another room --
or what lies at the bottom of bottomless mugs.
As you leave
home is a two-dimensional streak of paint
held by morning, weather worn --
built or unbuilt,
yours or not yours --
the green of a plant gnawing through.
The road to the roa
the leaves of my heart can fall away tooi.
my chest knocks
but no one answers;
on lonely nights i
write you into poems
and you,
foggy-eyed and
morningmad and silent,
look at me like something you could love
and walk away.
ii.
at dawn i’ll
hold my heart above the sink
like splitting pomegranate,
feel your weight inside my lungs
as a scream;
iii.
i tried to pull the dark from your eyes
and make a sky of it,
breathe you full of love-stars
before summer’s end
iv.
each crunching leaf sends me into shivers-
(such a relief for the heart
to hear something else breaking.)
So long, and thanks for all the fish, BlackBowfin! We're gonna miss you!