Daily Lit Deviations for April^14th, 2011

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Poetry

_{Suggested by: damina}

"Stumbling" by: v0nnie

<sub>For a first stab at this poetic form,
v0nnie hits her mark well. The poem
is short, but filled with solid imagery that rings
with honesty.

Suggested by Carmalain7
Featured by spoems</sub>
ReificationsI.
Ice statue
Moves the dance eternal,
(Un)real and
Frozen in slowest still (e)motions
Grieves the dance eternal
___(Un)sounds
She - tragedian,
Poetess of murmure eternal and infinite hisses
Myope in shade
She - actress of sorrow,
Display of her weeping (he)art
Theanthropic tragedienne
Tither of those silhouettes carved
In glass___
               ice___
                        rime___
And I am tithable of rime:
My only refresh
It covers my whole
___Weltschmerz
II.
I am the Void(er)
I am a decayable fragment
Of this whole - nevermore
This stream will flow - nevermore
The flux will (g)row
___On me
      Mea pectora requiescat
               Ego ipse
    
Reifications a.k.a (Un)sounds by MyImmortalLove4u

<sub>As the suggester commented, works like this,
that require a deeper train of thinking, are always
a blessing to come upon. Even as it appears heavily
influenced by the poetry of T.S. Eliot, this richly
textured poem has been crafted by one with their own
unique voice. It should not be read only once, lest
you miss out on its many subtleties, like shards of
light hidden in crystal facets.


Featured by apple-dark</sub>
I Do My Part for DeforestationMe writing poetry is bad for the environment.
The trees I take with me with each failed draft,
The oxygen that doesn't get made,
The little bit harder it makes each breath,
The added weight of greenhouse gases,
The extra inch in the hole in the o-zone layer,
Somebody's sunburn because of it,
Maybe melanoma.
These things make me feel like I've made a difference,
Like I've changed the world in some way.
I Do My Part for Deforestation by ThermadorianGrey

_{This piece resonates with humor both light and
dark, and the poet who reads it cannot help but chuckle.  
Here you are provided with a whole new way to think about
making a difference when you are worried that you may not
ever do so.}

Prose

_{Suggested by: damina
Featured by: Kitri-du-Lac}
Street Corner DrowningI drowned her in her own regrets and moved her off my street corner. She didn't belong there, like that little turquoise car Matty once bought used.  Yeah, it ran great and had power windows.  But, it didn't fit. It was an eyesore on the curbed canvas of our street's patina.
That's what she was: an eyesore.  She never wore her feelings on her sleeve because they restricted her range of motion, she said.  And I wondered what she thought she wouldn't need stiff elbows for on this block.
When the dawn would break in such a fashion that light actually streamed, she should have glittered with the fine sheen of mistakes she'd made. But she was muted by the powders and makeup she used to deny herself that very sparkle.  She saw perfection in that facade, but on our street it was considered sin to never let the neighbors see your underwear on the washline or the late rent notice on your door.
She'd been around too long already for the liking of
"Street Corner Drowning" by TGfascinated

<sub>The suggester describes this piece as having lovely
visuals and meandering thoughts that coalesce into an
ending. The atmosphere is powerful, making for a compelling
and intriguing read.

Suggested by: lonealphawolf
Featured by: SadisticIceCream</sub>
nine reasons why you shouldnine reasons why you should never love a poet:
one.
we like to hear things like 'you're beautiful' and
'i'd die without you' but deep inside we always know
you don't mean it.
and it just tears us apart slowly, no matter how much
we love those poisonous lies.
two.
and when you ask 'are you okay?', we're going to
answer with 'i'm fine'. and you'll hear that
even if our bones are shattering inside of us and
our hands are trembling from all the hurt that we go through.
three.
because we play our music too-loud-to-bear so that,
when we're all alone,
it chases away the thoughts that come with the silence:
things that haunt our nightmares and reasons why
we don't like to be alive.
four.  
we leave too many s p a c e s between our letters because
that's how we feel. all a.l.o.n.e.
and maybe you'll change that for a little while, but
in the end, it's all the same.
five.
and we can connect with books and movies and music be
"nine reasons why you should {never} love a poet." by 369dreamergirl

_{Whether you agree with them or not, 369dreamergirl
presents a compelling list that combines poetic device with
true emotion, creating a piece that is not quite poem and
not quite prose, but is beautiful nonetheless.}

---

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_{Prepared by: pullingcandy}