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Daily Lit Deviations for May 15^th, 2012

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

Poetry

_{Suggested by alapip
Featured by: spoems}
gods and bacteriayour god left you six miles back
on new bern avenue by the old high school
where feathered fighter pilots sit decommissioned
on roadside crosses like origami
and I'm sorry you came back at all
with piñata car bombs and the souls of afghans
trailing your boots like packing peanuts
you tried to go down with the vessel
blood and muscle and skeleton satchel charges
spilling out of your fleshy palms
but they wrapped your spine in cellophane
after that last bullet tore through your rafters
and you hit the walls and windows like a wet dog on acid
and I dragged you from the gods and bacteria spilling
from your diaphragm
and I'm sorry you came back at all
gods and bacteria by poetic

<sub>Per the suggester: "unique yet accessible
description and imagery -with a message!"


Featured by: Nichrysalis</sub>
*Lawn Mower*Abandoned in garden shed
Winter months neglected
Stark moment, bleak
Dreaming perhaps of summer.
Dried grass clings to rusty blades
Remember sun-kissed weather
Months until conditions change
Cold wooden shed, shiver.
Memories linger, perfect day
Gardened and cut lawn
How to forget emerald smell?
Waiting winters end, mourn.
2012 Delice1941
Edited 31st July2014
Garden Shed! by D-A-Skelly

<sub>Superbly told with a subtle rhyme, Garden Shed!
tells of the changing of seasons in a nostalgic voice.


Featured by: spoems</sub>
Soul JuiceSqueeze out the last drops in glorious color
The rind is mashed, rotten, ruined
But the juice is beautiful
When I dream of myself, or others, we're
always in our prime
and beautiful.
Soul Juice by Bark

<sub>This poem plays like a righteous chord
in the middle of a perfect song.


Suggested by riparii
Featured by LiliWrites</sub>
The Midnight InheritanceAll I had was the waxing gibbous
admiring the tilt of my chin
as I played with one shower-fresh curl
still perfectly corkscrewed
and lightly perfumed.
What strange relief,
watching the advancing rain,
a walking wall of grey
that made the mountains tip their heads back,
to drink that midnight wine.
Before the storm could eat the moon
and whisper rumors to my windows closed,
I watched how Cassiopeia
alighted on my reflection.
Seven stars graced my brow like a garland.
I felt my heart swell like a myth,
my breathing hushed as I found myself anointed.
When the last bead of water
rolled down the small of my back,
the sky released her breath,
and washed away the promise of a crown.
The Midnight Inheritance by callerofcrows

Subtle imagery in each stanza links together to a wonderful 

closing image. Especially fantastic when read aloud.

Prose

_{Featured by doodlerTM}
:thumb296721476:
Heart of An Asian Ocean by AuburnOleander

<sub>A beautiful short piece of prose, both in
its' language and in the topic it explores.






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Prepared by: spoems</sub>