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Submitted on
February 1, 2011


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Daily Lit Deviations for February 2nd, 2011

We are proud to feature today's Daily Literature Deviations!
You can show your support by :+favlove:ing this News Article.

Please comment and :+fav: the features and congratulate the artists!

:pointr: For all of the featured artists: If you receive a DD for one
of your pieces featured by DLD please note KneelingGlory.

We will include you and your piece in a special recognition news article. :pointl:


Featured byEmmaSloane
Seagull, a sigh lentto wind
the weight of thoughts
In salt,
and day-
shade wings
Were dreams (now,
black nets) floating ) ) )
out there, through tidings
of a movement at sea, to-
the land breathing
in its eater, first voice of day'd speak

"Seagull, a sigh lent" by myloveliestsequence

An economy of words is counterpoint to the rich,
yet understated imagery in this piece, waves evoked
by judicious placement of parentheses.

Suggested by londonrey
Featured by the-photographicpoet

EchoesHere is what I have learnt:
pressed against the cavern of the right ventricle
and scrawled beneath the pulmonary artery
impressed upon the atria, and
entwined between the chordae tendineae
are imprints of you.
Here is what I have learnt:
buried like treasures, amongst myelinated neurones
flowing like ribbons of sound and colour from the hippocampus
peering just beneath the surface of consciousness, and
into the vast prism of my dreams
are ghosts of you.
Here is what I have learnt:
carved into every muscle and engraved into
every bone, etched below the dermis
into an empty, fingerless hand and
forever to the inside of my eyes
are shades of you.
Here is what I have learnt:
I can trace bones in an anatomy book
and scrutinize every cell of every tissue of every organ
and though in every breath, and every heartbeat, and every moment
you are there
you are gone.

Echoes by iridiana

This is a beautiful emotionally-distant description of loss.
The semantics of the lexis as well as the broken structure all
combine to create a powerful and emotive read.

Suggested by ilyilaice
Featured by Maudlin-Mandolin

In the company of light...In the company of light and sound  
I imagine: There is no one
sitting behind the tinted glass,
no human form whose hands
turn the wheel.
There are only headlights
and rear-view mirrors,
and doors that do not open
for strangers
I am the single
rolled-down window, daring
the highway
the single flesh among machines
I imagine: There are no more voices
shouting curses
to the stoplight,
only pre-recorded horns
and the soft grumbling of the engines—
engines that are masters
of themselves
I am the single
tuneless voice, breaking
into song
the single cluttering engine
shutting down in the middle
of the road
I picture this matchbox of a van
(no aircon, no stereo, no special
buttons for effects)
swerving lanes, among Volvos and Fords
And for once,
I feel
     I am
better than them

"In the company of light" by unaxeptable

This poem offers a wonderful view of solitude, or atleast,
time alone while the rest of the world is absent. It's reflection
at its finest. A very relatable read.


Featured by: Kaz-D
Questions of Egypt        "Are you scared?" Anderson Cooper asks an Egyptian.
The man, casts his eyes over the mobs of others around him, responds:
        "But there's no police here, why should I be scared?"
- Feb 1st, 2011.
     Sometimes people ask questions that explain things without answers.
  It's those moments, no, it's those nows that dissolve the fear of love.
Occasionally people ask questions that explain things without answers.
     Occasionally people ask questions that cut a new garment.
  I'm dancing to the song of this Sun.

"Questions Of Egypt" by Azrael-Adonis

In a time of unrest and anger for many Egyptian people,
this piece of philosphical musing really stood out to me when I happened
across it today. A simple quote, and a simple thought attached - but it
offers the reality that these are people, they have lives and they have futures.

Suggested by: archelyxs
Featured by: Kitri-du-Lac

tightsJan 1, 2011
When there is no company, I define myself with tights. I wrap my bruises and prickles in triangles and silky stripes, making something sensuous; I pull soft cotton between my thighs and slowly swipe out wrinkles. I sway in front of mirrors, with saxophones serenading me from the machine on my mattress; I smile at my legs. They arc and stretch; they lift me upwards over nonexistent parading heads, and they hunt attention; they do not make a sound.
Without you, I sing to my dog and my nails and my feet. I make Frank Sinatra siphon my world from my eyes; he sings to me strongly and spins me with one light hand. He looks at my legs. My thighs freely flaunt themselves to wine red curtains and plushies from the past. There are no delicate dancers' legs to giggle behind the backs of mine. There are no men to ignore them; there are no men to push them aside and free them of their purple or pink or red or green veils in order to reach the more interesting parts. There is a clean and

"tights" by SweetBlackRose13

Repeating motifs of old-world glamour run through this piece,
lending it a sense of classic romance. This combines with newer concepts
creates an extremely sensual piece, with an underlying emotional hint
that avoids any melodrama or extreme sweetness.
A very elegant piece of flash fiction.

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Prepared by: KneelingGlory
Chirp, it's been twittered. [link] :)
jonathoncomfortreed Feb 2, 2011  Student Photographer
:clap: Love 'em.
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