Sigma-Echo-Seven

Into the Fire.

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Excision by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Literature

Excision

Excision This is the only way to cure it. Would you trust someone who’s never been? Now listen: you need to get yourself a rope. Coarse preferably. Tie it as close as you can to the wound. Make it tight enough to starve it of its origin. Isolate the damage. Let the abrasion as you move distract its cause for you. Let it twist and spark and scrape away the rust into a clean flame. Take the flame and douse your fingertips as deep as you can, then deeper every time. Work your way up to the knuckle. If it scalds, good. Let it erase the infected nest from the forefront of your mind. The problem is self-constructed; unnatural, not organic on

Tribute by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Literature

Tribute

Tribute He corners us before we have a chance to run. Bring it up. Disrupt the surface. Come on, we’re all friends here. Stagger to your feet. Face me. Draw a line in the sand if you must. You know I’ll wait. How many rounds will it be this time? Three? Six? Nine? How long will you last? How long will you keep trying? For 20 liquid minutes I was solid, I was game, reacting, flowing. Then that sudden recoil, that jarring rip-cord reflex as the engine turns over and barrels off the cliff. Fire’s only got one meaning: it’s an answer.

Velocitas eradico by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Literature

Velocitas eradico

“Velocitas eradico.” Breakneck – the traceur hurtling – cut from the stream, broke from the rank – blending all the shrapnel primed – reactive answers giving traction – throwing him from any height – incendiary force – shoving him against the wall – defiant, but he needs it like a trigger – one after next it chambers and pulls – when it fires he goes crashing through the soundproof wave – like acid-rain on asphalt – it thrums and jumps and talks like one – but there’s no time – it’s behind him now: circling, serrating – caught up

Anti-flash White by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Literature

Anti-flash White

Anti-flash White Built to detonate. Anticipated, given every courtesy and then dropped from 600 meters. Prophesized, too: and He said “Next time it won’t be a flood.” --- Off in the distance they watched it bloom: the pillar of smoke the sidewalk priests promised would guide their 40-year march. It branched up through the sky like a great ash tree, the tendrils at its base constricting around the city’s heart. Whether lions or sheep, it did not matter. All were immolated. For a few thundering seconds the omnipresent roar came crashing from the superstructure’s throat, then slowly faded to the noise of a single

Sculptor by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Snowblind by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Literature

Snowblind

Snowblind Here, I’ll describe it for you: It’s deep winter and you’re lost. The sky is ruptured overhead. The myth of progress stains you. The muted road is all that’s left (you’ve no choice but to take it). Almost solemn, but not enough to make you turn back; it’s at once an anomaly and a godsend. The indents in this bleach-white wasteland propel you further, deeper towards that howling rift. You cannot see (it doesn’t matter); the whole of it is frozen and that should be enough. But it’s not enough, is it? You still hold that question (that unanswered) inside you, close to the skin, in the v

Tranquil by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Literature

Tranquil

Tranquil Examine for a minute: in this one instance, there is quiet. There is solidity. There is a certain trace of certainty; discolored in suspending flux. I find its formless nature calming, but you may think it less so. I can see how one would grow anxious at the milliseconds pooling at the bottom of the vial. Almost like they’re waiting for something to come—to arrive and disrupt and realign what may have been true all along. Does that change you? Does it alter what you felt or what you thought just moments prior? Does it render you dispersed among the static pinpricks or does it feed you a negative charge? It’s alrigh

Surrealia by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Literature

Surrealia

Surrealia Thick ash fills the dreaming jungle. The scalding rivers rise up to greet your neck with their steam. You are capable of standing silent, of the long slow inhale; anything to take the taste from off your tongue into the air. The room is clouded, sun filtered in the dim smoke of this early day. Your head rolls back with the heavy wave, the subtle push and flow. You are here but you are gone, just as well, you might be floating further out over submerged walls and sunken cities without name. The next hit is stronger, slower; the depth changes as you drift. Deny it, but you are as malleable as the summer months to dawn. And should y

Atavistic by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Literature

Atavistic

Atavistic Step into the world of the civilized wretch. Its hair is bleached and thinning, its eyes are wide and rounded, its back crooks and it knows no threat; only dull inklings of what might come next or when the food will dry up or its mate will leave. Crippling adaptation hobbles its function outside the Confine, but within it struggles well enough. The conditions are skewed and splayed open thus. Mediocre, but adequate. Minimal, but sufficient. Alive, but not living. Pity has never known a greater feast, the parasite leeching at its wheezing veins. The beast is too tired to swat it away, so it gets sucked dry. The only light comes at

Lo-fi by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Literature

Lo-fi

Lo-fi An honest confrontation the other day—one without conclusion. She asked me what was off, how to fix it, why I didn’t answer. I couldn’t find the words just then, but here they are for you: I want to have an effect. To be counted off in metrics. Corporeal: tangible shine or tangible rust. I want to write the stone and watch the ripple. I want others to measure it, engage it, feel it, taste it, scrap it, forget it, uncover it. I want to be inhaled in warm, smoky basements and exhaled in brisk winter night. I want to be the final thing they muse about before sleep drags them off. The thing is that I know it’s all

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Excision by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Literature

Excision

Velocitas eradico by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Literature

Velocitas eradico

Diagnosis by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Literature

Diagnosis

Diagnosis I was asked to write this down, in case someone needs to know how it felt. “Evidence,” I think she called it; tangible proof that I’m sick. Like a doctor’s note as a prose poem I guess. I doubted it would prove anything, but she insisted. Let me begin. I told the doctor I hadn't gotten any sleep. We were standing outside her classroom and she looked me straight in the eye and asked, "Has anybody?" and for a split second I felt smaller than I am. The doctor once told me a theory exists that questions whether our souls could survive in a vacuum. She said that all we truly have is a single charcoal portrait,

Sculptor by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Snowblind by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Literature

Snowblind

Ghost Stories by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Literature

Ghost Stories

Ghost Stories My earliest memory is of Mom crying over me, and of you lurking above her. It's an extrasensory kind of fear: both profane and sublime. You can't exactly see it, and you can't pin it down; that’s how it surrounds and suffocates you. Man versus nature, man versus fate, man versus sire; call it what you will. Patient and bitter, you're a spider waiting in a blackened forest. You stalk behind our dreams with anxious hooks; always watching, baiting us, hating us, dragging us apart slowly and cautiously, bisecting us with your subtle scalpel-smiles. One-by-one you turn us away, forcing us to face you and the grotesque truth of

Surrealia by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Literature

Surrealia

Lo-fi by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Literature

Lo-fi

Twenty-One Rounds by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Machine-Part Sincerity by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

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S.A.D. by toxic-nebulae, literature

Daily Literature Deviations Color Contest Results by DailyLitDeviations, journal

Daily Literature Deviations Color Contest Results

Nov 3, 2013

COLORS CONTEST RESULTS Update: The Colors Contest Results are Finally In!!! OK, yes, it has been quite awhile since this contest ended. There have complications outside the current DLD administration's control which lead to some of the delay - the rest of the time: procrastination. :blush: In any case, better late than never, right? Anyway, here are the winners: 1st Place:The color of betrayal by TheBrassGlass (https://www.deviantart.com/thebrassglass) 2nd Place: Barracuda by Sigma-Echo-Seven (https://www.deviantart.com/sigma-echo-seven) 3rd Place: S.A.D. by toxic-nebulae (https://www.deviantart.com/toxic-nebulae) Congratulations to all the winners, and thank you to all the contestants. Again, on behalf of DailyLitDeviations (https://www.deviantart.com/dailylitdeviations), we apologize for the delay, a

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Barracuda by Sigma-Echo-Seven, literature

Literature

Barracuda

I have heard mistaken minds say if you offer her your hand, Blue in kind will bring no harm. I have come to tell you this is false. Listen closely now, my friend: Blue is sharper, longer, leaner, than Red on Red’s best day. She will take your albatross and slit it open in the night. Blue is dressed to a fine point: silk sleeves and noble crest, predator-sleek with azure-spine. She dares and she is tempting, I admit, but you have not known Blue as I. You see, Blue can cut. She can sting. She can weave and dance and cut again, and when she has finished she is deathly still. Blue feels no remorse; she won’t reflect as you or I. Sh

Barracuda

Sigma-Echo-Seven

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About Sigma-Echo-Seven

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Artist // Student // Literature

Aug 5
United States
Deviant for 15 years
He / Him

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My Bio

What I listen to: goa trance, progressive, industrial, folk metal, indie, trip-hop, space rock

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Gorillaz, Beck, Broken Bells, NIN, The Sword, Peter Fox, Pink Floyd, Ensiferum, many others

Other Interests

sublimity - kinesthesia - ecology - mythopoeia - literature (clearly) - physicality

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Sigma-Echo-Seven

May 17, 2013

Haven't killed me yet

0 min read

So this is my version of the "Hey everyone! I haven't fallen off the face of the Earth just yet" post. School's out. Graduating on Saturday with a BA in English. Four long years, so many fucking papers, such great professors, such great fucking writers I got to work with, and I'm done. So, you know, DERP: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CK6ksA0QyE4 Sorry I haven't been on here a whole lot. At this moment there are 10,049 deviations in my watch box. (New high score? Probably not.) But I've been busy writing. Completed my senior thesis project this semester; it's kind of like a capstone type thing. I wrote a collection of 14 prose poems plus

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Sigma-Echo-Seven

Dec 24, 2012

I've been tagged...

0 min read

by the lovely ~Hfeather53 (https://www.deviantart.com/hfeather53). So, as a man of honor, I must respond: Here are the rules: 1. You must post the rules. 2. Each person must post 5 things about themselves in their journal 3. Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post, and create five new questions for the people you tag to answer. 4. You have to choose 11 (or less, if you want) people to tag and post their icons on your journal. 5. Go to their page and tell them you have tagged them. 6. No tag backs. 7. No stuff in the tagging section about "you're tagged if you're reading this". You must legitimately tag people. So, five things you may not know about

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Profile Comments 511

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come back!

Happy Birthday!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

dragon-fly-to-me

Jul 25, 2013

Hello

I just wanted to stop in and say thanks a lot for collecting "First Time" the other day. I appreciate that very much and hope you have a wonderful rest of your week.

Thank you!

Welcome.

i wish i'd thought of your username
we're going to be good friends you and i