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About Deviant Artist Brian OttMale/Unknown Recent Activity
Deviant for 14 Years
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Literature
Love or Just is
O locust spring, heavenly spring
In magic just is magic lust.
Expensing plots, dispensing wroughts
The trees that words are poured.
O burlesque house, rejoice from mouth
To morring love or mooring Dove.
Displacing homes, erasing loans
The skies that once have soared.
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Literature
The Wilderness
"For fuck's sake Caroline, you know I didn't sleep with him," I tried to explain as I had been doing so since I woke up yesterday morning.
"Don't give me that, Charles.  You know just as well as I do that it was all over your face, black and white."
The thought hadn't occurred to me yet, but maybe she was right.  I guess it didn't matter anymore.  No matter what I said or tried to do, she was leaving and she was leaving tomorrow.  
Her life was packed…along with half of mine: the brown boxes, the dresses, the make-up, the shoes, the pictures, the everything; and not that the dresses were mine, it's just that it was our life.
I didn't know if I felt anymore.  I didn't even know if I could.  But that was how things went, and this is how things were.  My Caroline was leaving.  My Caroline was already gone.
I guess it all started in fourth grade.  Well, that is my earliest childhood memory. 
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Literature
A slash CF
Subject: A/CF
sunrise and a turntable
a glass of milk and broken fish - porcelain
pass out on the stairs
it was as well be this way
pass out anywhere
it might as well be anyway
Setting: M/AN
he was a cardboard box last week
eaten by the coffee he once was - ceramic
(insert) RISING ACTION
make way on the train
it might as well be headin' this way
make way anywhere
it might as well be headin' anyway
(insert) CLIMAX
Plot: I/N
breath in helium - lighter than a cigarette
toss/turn - another drunk counts as lost
(insert) FALLING ACTION
here's the pacific ocean
and i'm heading west
(talk) RESOLUTION
ocean = o'clean
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Literature
FUCK DEVIANT ART
there was the poem
about a girl
AND SHE HATED YOU.
her name was misleading.
AND she left.
she went to the store.
to find everything she loved.
her heart, her mind,
her lost boyfriend
ALL in a bottle of YOU.
every cliche, every mistake
was profoud enough to say
I FUCKED UP AGAIN.
so she drank her life
down to her soul
and found out she
NEVER NEEDED YOU.
fuck off.
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:iconlosttoperfection:losttoperfection 1 7
Literature
quiet is the night sung
he began to speak in music
and paint away his thoughts.
brushes on his canvas
drinks into his mind.
rain unto the sun
like freshly fallen snow.
he trades his recipes
for dreams.
he fades his colored eyes
to see all shades of gray.
like a ribbon on his
broken finger.
trees fall to the ground
and walls will be torn down.
he runs away
to sleep.
love, love, love.
faith into the sky.
haste and distance
quiet is the night sung.
he practiced in the sky
smoke rising from his tires.
she said, "you are not
all that alone."
red lights falling
and the mountains iced
he said, "i am going
to die tonight."
he waited til the morning
cut his heart in two
the blood was night
and his life water.
he drowned and she cried
but she said, "you
will dream. you will
dream anew."
love, love, love
faith into the sky
haste and distance
quiet is the night sung.
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Literature
Falling Water
There he stood, six feet tall, watching the water flow off his head and onto his hand.  The water bounced and jumped and fell to the floor, but his eyes stayed on his hand.  His hand intrigued him and he wanted to know more about it.  He questioned himself as to why his hand did the things it did.
Suddenly snapping back to reality, he quickly turned off the water, grabbed for his towel, and began drying himself off in one habitual motion.  He ran out of the bathroom and into his small room; consisting of nothing more than a bed, and an old trunk used as what would be a coffee table, if he hadn't put it deep in the corner of the shadowy room.  
He grabbed his best pair of pants, gray in color, and one of his many white shirts.  He dragged a brush through his hair and put on his deodorant.  He put on his new pair of socks.  They were charcoal black and he bought them at the mall this past weekend.  
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:iconlosttoperfection:losttoperfection 1 3
Literature
february twenty-third
like a fish
on a stringer
or a hangman's noose
i flip, i flop
and slowly die.
a lone tombstone
in a sea
or a garden salad
i toss, i turn
and slowly fall.
like a cloud
in the sky
or a dead end street
i rise, i fall
and slowly end.
a piece of pie
in the trash
or a purfumed neck
i smell, i hide
and slowly rot.
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:iconlosttoperfection:losttoperfection 1 2
Literature
greeting people during parade
as the faces begin to change to shapeless blurs.
as their bodies become lost in a sea of design.
written and loved, practiced not preached.
her ideal husband became her lust.
her face become faint and tears became salt.
she gave up her life, for this room.
she gave up weather, she gave up the skies.
written and loved, fallen and forgotten.
green tea mixed with red, her blood.
as she lays in her chair at the lonely coffe shop.
her wrists bandaged, her face stale.
her eyes cut out, and placed in her hand.
for the day when she feels him, sees him.
she will give him her hand, and give him her faith.
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Literature
Weather or Not
forgive me
hold my penny
up for all to see
like a falling star
raining money in mexico
thinner than paper
your cuts on my skin
have began to bleed
the thread and a needle
is all you need
to sow my dreams
stitches like rainclouds
cover my wounded face
lye in my throat
and a penny
in my eye
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:iconlosttoperfection:losttoperfection 0 2
Literature
The Barcode of Heaven
I had a dream
And tattooed on my arm
Was every love and conformation
In which I existed.
On my forehead was a crucifix
With a barcode on my neck
But in the mirror
The room was empty.
I had a dream
And placed in every room
Was a picture of love
And what love is.
The frame was broken
And the glass but shattered
Yet the still-frame showed
The room is not empty.
I had a dream
And the inside of my heart
Was filled with scars and blood
Mended and dried.
My soul was painted white
And the barcode removed
For in Heaven
The room is full.
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:iconlosttoperfection:losttoperfection 2 3
Literature
Ride
Let's go for a ride
To the midnight moon
Set our sails and fly
There is no home
For the loneliest heart
In this autumn's peace
Rest, and find purity
The day is short my friend
The night will deceive
And befriend your hand
Take a trip to the coast
Breathe the air and sigh
Slip down, into the sand
And get… high
I wish the night were longer
And the day as well
I miss your beauty
Your nine o'clock smile
Dresses and simplicities
The act of turning
A dream into faith
Relieve myself from reality
The train of thought
As i depart from you
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Literature
A matter Of opinion
tears Are forming
an open beach (minus The waves)
soon, the ripples... will be BIG enough
to crush your spirit.
A casket remains
a centerpiece for all to see.
believe in your religion.
(but)........................
when you die, you are dead.
to this world, YOU are dead.
if the only thing holding you
(alive) is this world,
dont pretend to live again.
pray to God, Allah, Buddha, or Satan
that you will cease to exist.
Pray, hope, endeavor that
(life) is all that exists.
Tears are forming
a desert of sand
being consumed
by the crashing of waves.
WATCH OUT!
or you will be swept into
the crushing sea.
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:iconlosttoperfection:losttoperfection 0 3
Literature
rolling, rolling away
he's sitting on the porch
with a light in his hand
and the night on his back
he's rocking in the quiet
but will he ever learn
that she's not coming back
rolling, like a moon in the sky
he's here, and she's here
but he just don't know
he's walking down the tracks
of a one-way train
and the wind will soon be calling his name
he's tied himself
to the bridge of no return
and soon she will see his tears
rolling, a tear in the sky
he's here, and she's here
but he just don't know.. why
rolling, a design in the sky
he's here, and she's here
but he just don't know... why... why
he's crying his eyes
but the tears don't fall
they burn before the ground
he's drying his hands
near the furnace's coals
his words spoken without sound
rolling, a fire in the sky
he's here, and she's here
and he just don't know
rolling, or rolling away
he's here, and she's here
and he knows, he knows just why
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:iconlosttoperfection:losttoperfection 1 3
Literature
Time a Stitch of Sound to Sing
what has time become
a simple life
a dying wish
(a record and a needle)
a broken record
a shattered needle with no eye
(no room for thread-no place to sow)
as if the thread
once somehow stitched this sound
and made it sing
a broken record-what has time become
a lack of melody
no record player to allocate 24 minutes
HALT
and time begins again
24 minutes of pure bliss
what has time become
a music to life
a falling star (in the night)
stars will die
and music will soon stop
(time is distant-bigger than life)
a broken record
a sowing needle
a fallen star
all pose infinities
(but not without time)
essential to dreams-fulfilling to sight
time: what has it become
time: an answer to life
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Literature
Electric
no remote control
to change the shit
on the television
get up
begin the day
and run from this
fantasy
girls getting raped
in the allyway
hold back tears
knives litter the air
watch out
and down goes mrs. johnson
cars and water
two coincidences
that evolved from you
get up
begin the day
pretend this fantasy
is a star in the night
a needle to sow
a pair of eyes
and thread
to lace lips
begin the end
of the day
and walk between
the cracks
in the street
free this fantasy
state the gray
and walk away
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:iconlosttoperfection:losttoperfection 2 2
Literature
Peace Through Arms
Be a pillar
And stand beside me
Like war
And the nation's love.
Wade the waters
Until the morning comes
Give peace
Justifying death
Conceal a thought
Of persecution
And bleed it out
Through arms
Drink this justice
Learn of all its hatred
For it will help you
Become your enemy
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losttoperfection
Brian Ott
Artist
Current Residence: California
Favourite photographer: my sister
Personal Quote: hi
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:iconlisolettegilcrest:
lisolettegilcrest Featured By Owner Mar 23, 2006
Thank you very much for visiting my art gallery!

Stay tuned for several more projects to be posted soon!
Reply
:iconcalivinguy:
calivinguy Featured By Owner Dec 25, 2004
And now Brian, my boy, my dear boy, Giving you some love this Christmas season.

Oh and...

Merry FREAKIN' Christmas! :santa:
Reply
:iconmichelleisok:
michelleisok Featured By Owner Jul 13, 2004
i miss you.
Reply
:iconcalivinguy:
calivinguy Featured By Owner Dec 25, 2004
Then you shouldn't have shot him dead ;P
Reply
:iconmichelleisok:
michelleisok Featured By Owner Dec 29, 2004
amusing, very.
Reply
:iconcalivinguy:
calivinguy Featured By Owner Jan 1, 2005
Knew you would, enjoy it.
Reply
:iconmichelleisok:
michelleisok Featured By Owner Jun 5, 2004
bang bang your dead.
Reply
:icondj-neon-90:
DJ-Neon-90 Featured By Owner Jan 10, 2004
:wtf:??? Sorry about that... ^^;
Reply
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