Daily Lit Deviations for March 9^th, 2010

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Poetry

_{Featured by: hell-on-a-stick}
:thumb156564680:
"Memories from baptism" by stupidvagina

<sub>The poems and the artwork, likewise, the name
pull no punches.  Not for the faint, she tells things like
they are and drills the ink onto the page.  It's hard to
look away, but then again, why should you?  
What she's showing us needs to be seen.


Featured by teenyxtinyxtina</sub>
:thumb150073234:
"36. Precious Treasure" by irpinkrobotx3

<sub>The metaphors in this poem are delicate
and beautiful in that wistful way, and it can have
so many different interpretations to it. irpinkrobotx3
shows us that despite contrasting personalities, there
is always an in-between blend that's just right.


Featured by KneelingGlory</sub>

Those Who Sit by otherwise-duck

_{A wonderful poem complimented
by a beautiful illustration that
emphasizes the form and flow of
the words. Well worth a look!}

Prose

_{featured by: Kitri-du-Lac}
Comfort With Vodka And Pills 1    I quickly vomited the mixture of vodka and pills I had taken ten minutes before onto the filth-ridden pavement. From behind, the flat sounds of bass and trance thundered out from the brick walls, as flashes of red, green and blue burst through the gaps of reinforced door. I leant, unsure of myself, on the cold railing with my head hung down with heaviness. Fumbling for the bottle of water in the back pocket of my WKD stained jeans, I wretched once more over the railing, but only adding a little spit to the foul discharge on the pavement. To my dismay I found the bottle empty and I cast it away before slouching over the handrail.
    Behind me I heard the heavy exit door open, dismissing it as just another exhausted dancer and resting my head onto my arms, willing the headache away; I was thoroughly surprised when a friendly hand took hold of my shoulder saying my name. I shifted my head over to look at him, his soft eyes piercing my own.
"Oh,
"Comfort With Vodka And Pills" by Aquitius

<sub>Aquitius carefully constructs this piece
to read both as a romance and as a transgressive piece.
Mixing the cliches of both genres, the piece takes on
an original tone and uses understatement throughout,
allowing the reader to interpret a personal reading
of the piece. A well thought out and constructed piece.


Featured by itsaki</sub>
A Fragile Door Between Us
I can hear my man breathe in the next room. He is digesting his daily dose of Jack, and I've taken the opportunity to lock myself into the bedroom. The door won't hold if he sets his mind to opening it, but it still gives me some sense of security. Why, I can't say. I lean myself to it and press my ear against it. I can hear him muttering under his breath, occasionally raising his voice in curses. Then there is a shattering sound, as if something has been thrown across the room. Glass.
   It is my job to clean up after him. It has been for nearly three years now. I always try to make myself invisible while I pick up the broken dishes from the floor or wash the liquor from the carpet. If I don't make any sound, it decreases the risk of him hurting me. Somewhat.
   Look at what he is doing to you! My friend's words echo in my ear. I don't know why I don't ever listen. I should. I really should.
   I sit down on the bed and flinch from t
"A Fragile Door Between Us" by celestial-elevator

_{A horrifying piece that captures readers into shock.
It's the story of a girl and a drunken man, and how
she must live through the pain he forces upon her.}



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_{Prepared by: KneelingGlory}