Daily Lit Deviations for June 28^th, 2010

We are proud to feature today's Daily Literature Deviations!

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Don't hesitate to comment or the artists for their hard work!


For all of the featured artists: If you receive a DD for one of your pieces featured by DLD please note us. We will include you and your piece in a special recognition news article.

Poetry

_{Featured: by 1Walkingblind}
On the Day BeforeLast night
   we paused our
  Bickerings
        Long enough to agree
    We'd never make it
                          here.
But look.
      Look!
    You're amazing
       and I know this.
  Know it like I know
      Water tastes like nothing
                            and
      Whiskey tastes like sin.
              Like I know
     You were meant for
      
elzorrito.deviantart.com/art/O… ("On the Day Before") by elzorrito

<sub>The desperation that emanates from this poem
is heart wrenching. The author through well versed
lines  and laser point analogies shares feelings
of yearning in this piece, a must read.


Suggested by Aquitius
Featured by Iluvocnj2006</sub>
:thumb168629973:
"Shoot the Moon" by BaronAutumn

<sub>Beautiful imagery combined with a wonderful
rhyming scheme makes this poem absolutely superb!


Featured by KneelingGlory</sub>

shootingstar2428.deviantart.co… ("Flying on the Wings of Hope") by shootingstar2428

_{This is a wonderful example of how words
and color and shape can be mixed to bring out
a wholistic representation of a concept.}

Prose

_{Featured by: Kaz-D}

fav.me/d2qnjmg ("The First Syllable") by tuesday-night

<sub>Literally, tuesday-night had me at the first
syllable and I couldn't stop reading from that point.
Wonderful story of a not-so-youth.


Feature by TheTerrorOfTheDeep</sub>
Sparrow's PoemShe crouches on the sidewalk, blinks saltwater from her eyes.  A cold sun shines on her back, catching the silver at her neck and turning it into a collar of light.  She looks peaceful, sad, with slumped shoulders and a tilted head.  Passers-by, though there are few this time of day, give her a wide berth.  Something sacred hangs in the air, and not even the businessman, late to work and with coffee down his front, wants to disturb it.
She pauses, leans back, smiles.  Wipes purple dust from her hands and onto her jeans.  No one has noticed it yet, but they will.  She touches her fingertips to her lips, then the pavement.
A tentative hope rises in her chest.  She stands, looks down at her work once more, and walks away.  Sparrow leaves behind a poem, one of many.  
Soon, a young woman catches sight of a purple smudge on the ground.  She stops, looks down, and reads.
I hear yo
"Sparrow's Poem" by ravenofroses

_{Anywhere, anyhow, sometimes you need to
leave your mark, so someone else can find it.}




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_{Prepared by: KneelingGlory}