No-Talent-Hack

Zac

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Clockwork by No-Talent-Hack, literature

Literature

Clockwork

Slate grey skies, neither dawn nor dusk sunrise, sunset day or night. the border between days is bland. the same color as the borders between states and nations. These skies belong to us. the way we live is not for the sun's brightness or the moon's cool embrace -- But for ourselves, at our leisure, in our custom. Not a biological clock broken, forgotten. Time now kept by the heartbeat of the universe and the clockwork celstial. tick.... tock.... tic... to.. ti.

don't stop... by No-Talent-Hack, literature

Literature

don't stop...

Anticipation... ...make me want more... ...take me to the edge... push my limits. push my buttons. dial long distance on a fiber optic line. hardwired into wetware. Desire... ...makes me burn... ....engulfed in digital flame... caught up in her spell... that binary black magick voodoo that she does so well.... Exhaustion - ignored Pain - only spurs me on it's all bout that touch reaching through the ether and grabbing me by the collar. Grab me where I live. Tied down, just like that, despite freedom to move, I can't twitch a thread. I'm jacked up, jacked in, couldn't stop it didn't

Post Modern Sleaze by No-Talent-Hack, literature

Double Shot, part 2 by No-Talent-Hack, literature

Literature

Double Shot, part 2

What you find morally outrageous I consider foreplay I play with the sins And tonight I’m firing on all seven cylinders Lust – luxuria Gluttony – gula Greed – avaritia Sloth – acedia Wrath – ira Envy – invidia Pride - superbia A machine of the dead Powered by the damned The smell of you on my fingers Is the exhaust I say I fuck high school girls And you call me a defiler But what you won’t admit Is that I was the guy you were fucking When you were their age

Irony. by No-Talent-Hack, literature

Literature

Irony.

The sound of pen scratching on paper Whispers of ink feeling up pulp Gotta love that tangible, physical sensation. Words suspended in liquid crystal ether just don’t cut it When you can spill ink onto the page The jagged edges of shaky letters Written by shaky hands rife with emotion The sensuality of organically grown thoughts Harvested as they happen Versus cold, clinically transposed verse. Gotta have that warmth Gotta have that feel.

Big Boy Babylon by No-Talent-Hack, literature

Literature

Big Boy Babylon

Bleach is mopped into the floor Erasing the tracks of the Drunken pilgrims on their exodus To the smoking section. Alterna-teens of both denominations: College AND High School Dance to their ringtones like idolators Silver Samsung Calves With unlimited nights and weekends. On the other side of the glass, Moses sits gazing into a 15 inch LCD burning bush Keyboard strokes like classically trained piano player Banging away their commandments

Alex by No-Talent-Hack, literature

Literature

Alex

I broke Ohm’s law again today I went to find culture today I found Alex instead. With his squinty eyes, And his snarling, jagged teeth. Accusing me. Challenging me. What right do YOU have to be here? And I run Gallery to gallery Culture to culture Matisse offered no sanctuary Degas made mockery of me I found myself taking refuge in the cloisters Smelling of religion and dust Allegory rung like steeple bells within my head And every time – it came back to Alex Hanging out in Gallery One Pissed at me for defiling his temple Pissed at the world for his immortality

Unknown New York by No-Talent-Hack, literature

Thinkin' Problem by No-Talent-Hack, literature

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Just Let Me Introduce Myself by No-Talent-Hack, literature

Sit on my Interface by No-Talent-Hack, literature

Actor by No-Talent-Hack, literature

Walkin' by No-Talent-Hack, literature

Literature

Walkin'

Walkin’ out of class And step outside into a day That’s too warm, too bright to be Feburary Today, it’s spring – only if it’s just til tomorrow I start walkin’ to the back forty where my chariot awaits Wondering if Moses was just a college guy on his way To his car when he picked up a few stragglers. As I shuffle, I look down in the mud and half in and half out is a tampon, sticking out of its wrapper, half in and half out And I just gotta ask myself – “Is it used?” They say that winter’s almost over, because a groundhog could see it’s shadow. I personally don’t agree, be

Reflections... by No-Talent-Hack, literature

Literature

Reflections...

I can’t draw But I still have a sketchbook and pencils. Because the desire’s there, if not the talent. I can’t write, but I still have a journal, a pen, and some words. Because the desire’s there, if not the talent. These things preserve my humanity Reminds me why I work Go to school Why I endure the shit I endure To get those small increments of bliss Without these things – Why? Why Continue? If it’s not for these things I cannot love But I still have Heart, soul, and touch anyway. Because the desire is there, If not the talent.

Truth in Advertising by No-Talent-Hack, literature

Leaves Of Youth by No-Talent-Hack, literature

Literature

Leaves Of Youth

It’s been a long time Since I had the chance To breathe fresh air again Without the acrid stench of industry Refinery, and progress Instead of the smell of Breathing plants, living animals And humidity filling my nose, Taking me back to the days I could walk through fields Stick-sword in hand Slaying countless acres Of evil tall grass Youth’s knight errant on Another fool’s quest Saving a princess or two Looking back along the way I wish I would’ve saved myself instead.

Anonymous Girl by No-Talent-Hack, literature

Literature

Anonymous Girl

Anonymous Girl Doesn’t want to be known Cares not to be found Just wishes you’d leave her alone Without a single glance Or a care For what she says Or thinks Or feels Because it’s more for herself, really Than for you to know What goes on inside her head Or her heart She’s worth more Than she thinks she is And if she could see what I do In every smile and every word she would share herself with the world

Untitled by No-Talent-Hack, literature

See Artist's Comment by No-Talent-Hack, literature

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The Vanishing Exhibitionist by Gretta-Van, literature

Cyber Love by RaRa-AvIs314, literature

It's pure ecstasy, Baby by Gretta-Van, literature

About No-Talent-Hack

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United States
Deviant for 16 years
He / Him

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My Bio

Current Residence: The Freehold, Glass City
Favourite genre of music: Any
Favourite photographer: Andi Young (www.shesawred.com/)
Favourite style of art: Style without Substance
Operating System: Xp, Vista
MP3 player of choice: Winamp
Shell of choice: Impenetrable Cybertronian Armor
Wallpaper of choice: The Geeky Kind
Skin of choice: The fleshy kind.
Favourite cartoon character: Optimus Prime
Personal Quote: "When this thing hits 88 miles per hour, you're gonna see some serious shit."

Favourite Visual Artist

Alex Ross

Favourite Movies

Transformers: The Movie (1986)

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

None

Favourite Writers

T.S. "Butch" Eliot, Robert "Sundance" Browning

Favourite Games

Games without Frontiers

Favourite Gaming Platform

(se)X-Box

Tools of the Trade

Mind and hands, heart and spirit.

Other Interests

Varied

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No-Talent-Hack

Dec 25, 2011

The rumors of my demise are somewhat exaggerated.

0 min read

I'm still here. I'm still writing. Watch this space for more developments.

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No-Talent-Hack

Oct 30, 2007

And on the flipside of that...

0 min read

It's only today come crashing down that the best I can do is dogpaddle in mediocrity. I'm a decent writer, not great, not wonderful. Good. Okay at my pinnacle. Maybe enough room for a Not bad in there, but that's about it. Haven't managed to do anything with myself educationwise. I'm gonna be fucking 40 years old flipping pancakes somewhere because I haven't been able to finish school or even look all that decent while I'm attending classes. Jaysis how I fucking suck. That's all. Just felt like doing some wallowing for a minute. I'll be okay in a few days, I'm sure. If I'm lucky. But right now, I got nothin' but a mouthful of hate for myse

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No-Talent-Hack

Oct 17, 2007

Dear Rolling Stone Hot Class of 2007...

0 min read

I...am hotter than all of you. I am smarter, more photogenic (thanks to Andi), and contain more talent in my twice reconstructed knee than you, as a collective whole, will ever have. Ever. I can write better than all of you - you might be getting published, yes, but that's because you happened to toss the right lap dance at the right guy at the right time. Your words will be forgotten long before you are banished to used bookstores and bargain bins world wide. Fewer will read what I have to say, but they will fall with the strength of an angry god. They will destroy thought processes of the people who read them. They will infiltrate brains