Daily Lit Deviations for May 17th, 2011
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Suggested by: alapip
Featured by: thetaoofchaos
thyroidal cartilagei held a bird between my hands,
swallow's throat twitching in laryngeal spasms.
when i whispered gently,
lips millimeters from its ear,
'you are mine; there is nothing you can do'
it struggled, beak clicking like talon-fingernails on porcelain
i didn't mean to let it free, i swear.
it beat me back with a single shining look;
beaded gaze bruising, breaking capillaries and
bringing blood to the surface.
i would have gotten a black eye if i wasn't careful.
careful, i mean. i was never careful.
with mirrored eyes i watched it fly,
wings beating in time to my heart.
my breath was a cloud of smoke,
droplets condensing in the air and
mingling with fog and foreign substances
and atmospheric debris from the
most recent vehicular excursions
it was a white day, with a white sky and
a lake of milk. i drank all of it,
particles of protein splashing onto my sunglasses.
and then i was alone:
no bird and no lake,
just an empty heart
and a stomach full of regrets and butterflies
"thyroidal-cartilage" by consolecadet
The poem offers up a mysterious muse,
an instinctive metaphor for trapping joy like a bird
in one's grasp, and what exactly it is we are left with
when our dreams hurry off from our reach.
Suggested by: LadyofGaerdon
Featured by: apple-dark
"Paper-Cuts" by RiseandBe
"Clever text alterations, whimsical subject matter
and clear imagery make for a brisk, picturesque read."
Even grammatical errors cannot take away from the
charm of this poem. It is pleasing to the eye, the
tongue, and the heart.
Featured by: thetaoofchaos
sapienceand this is the almost violent allure
of your future: a dismal trail
of ants by the pantry, a dead house,
a door that lets the wind in
and the reek of a red pig screaming
out by the barn. you tacet.
time is no bedthief; she is unmoved
by your pretty heels kicking
up the straw. and every hour turns
sour, every day brings more
slop and fear and every year hears
your blood become a chorus,
a sanguine susurrus saying no more:
no more pausing, no more
sweet nothings blown into nothing,
no empty shelves, no sow,
just the scream and reek of a train
to someplace better. a tune,
not a tacet. but not now. but soon.
"sapience" by zebrazebrazebra
Luxurious rhythm and hypnotic alliteration
are complimented, if not contrasted by disturbing
imagery in this extremely interesting prompt-inspired poem.
Featured by: SadisticIceCream
"Marry Me?" by punkislife81
punkislife81 presents a fast-paced portrait
ofa women who is reluctant to fall in love. The
author's prose is spurred on by its snappy dialogue,
making this a quick, enjoyable read.
Featured by: loqutor
The Neverending MonologuesThey bicker, shouting at impregnable walls.
"The Neverending Monologues" by uniquelyyours93
When communication really isn't.
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Prepared by: MyLastBlkRose