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Daily Lit Deviations for June 16^th, 2013

We are proud to feature today's Daily Literature Deviations!
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Please comment and the features and congratulate the artists!


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of your pieces featured by DLD please note LiliWrites.
We will include you and your piece in a special recognition news article.

Poetry

_{Featured by LadyofGaerdon}
:thumb373238029:
Empty by SovereignSin

<sub>The gift - or perhaps curse -
of the artist: to eternally spill
forth our mind and our hearts,
yet to never, ever be Empty.


Suggested by: doughboycafe
Featured by: spoems</sub>
BullyHear me perform it on youtube.
We are not more
than each other but
I bul-lieve
virginity is a childhood disease;
I know
because my friend tells me
I won't find a way to keep it.
So I do keep it.
You are not more
than me, yet
I bully you:
'sex is an adolescent dream.'
You know
because your friends tell you
that you will hold someone
close enough to have it.
So you hold someone closer.
And it doesn't bother me
that I twitch from the grief,
wince from my gut and ground
my teeth for the truth;
I do those things because
this thought makes sense to me:
I think I'm more
than you.
Bully by Nichrysalis

<sub>Fearless and genuine.


Suggested by: doughboycafe
Featured by: spoems</sub>
Why I Laughed at His FuneralWas dull, as funerals
go.
It was nothing I could help, the sound of it
left me. And in the moving crowd of black
around collars and scarves and
the formless grays of our town
, bowel movement of black,
broken by a laugh, then two, then
a whole cascade. Who is to say
I wasn’t mad from knowing the truth
or wanting to, not knowing enough?
Bobby Sweethouse died
throwing himself off the school roof.
His mother was the first to collect his remains,
ashamed almost to see
all the mess her boy had made.
Many of my friends had said,
he deserved this for being a queer,
or something along those lines, I’m sure
they could pull whatever they wanted
from a long checklist of things to say,
or spit, or hurl. Words, after all, like these
are pre-prepared, ahead of time.
It wasn’t his fault for being outted.
Or born here, where the cruel earth fought
to make flowers shoot from the ground
only to be crushed by the lightning of words,
sneers, and stares.
I’d like to think he wasn
Why I Laughed at His Funeral by TheGlassIris

_{Rich with colloquial sentiment that
reaches outward and into the generalities
of humanity with some satisfying precision.}

Prose

_{Featured by LadyofGaerdon}
Never mindI guess it’s kind of funny, if you think about it. You always see in the movies – in the TV shows – people running and screaming and praying and stuff. That’s what Hollywood always thought it would be like. Some sort of ‘death cloud’ or something – or like an asteroid or something like that – that just happened: that just totally hit everybody by surprise.
People have known about it for months. It’s not like in the movies. The word ‘inevitability’ comes to mind: and hey, guess what? Nobody cares to run from the inevitable. It’s pretty stupid – isn’t it, if you think about it – how people, in the movies, try to run from inevitable death. Everybody has decided what they were gonna do today weeks ago, maybe even months ago. Say goodbye to family, spend time with girlfriend, et cetera et cetera. As with the Kubler-Ross effect – or whatever it's called – p
never mind by andrewpom

<sub>The last day of the world,
conveyed subtly through
the eyes of an average guy,
hoping for one last connection.


Featured by LadyofGaerdon</sub>

Fourteen by DailyBreadCafe

_{A chilling story, relating a seemingly
ordinary outing, with a sinister
undercurrent, and a protagonist
conflicted by love and fear.}





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_{Prepared by: spoems}