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Daily Lit Deviations for November 18th, 2012

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 LiliWrites.

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


Suggested by: intricately-ordinary
Featured by: SilverInkblot

SometimesDigital stars make neon scars in the night,
and we are imagining the feeling of sometimes being alive,
and sometimes being in love.
Magazine dreams rip at the seams in the light,
and we are imagining the feeling of sometimes being in love,
and sometimes being alive
Bright coloured cars start highway wars in plain sight,
and we are imagining the feeling of sometimes being alive,
and sometimes being in love.
Tasting the sounds as the ocean pounds against moonlight,
and we are imagining the feeling of sometimes being in love,
and sometimes being alive.

Sometimes by PrideofPanem

From the Suggester: "The indefinite nature
of the word "sometimes" is explored."

Suggested by: Solarune
Featured by: Carmalain7

Isaiah by flummo

Suggester: "I don't know if flummo
could write more eloquently than she does in Isaiah,
with its broad, sweeping images and delicate declarations."

Featured by: betwixtthepages
LossKneel. Lick the salt. Pray.
There is a hole here, I say,
pressing to my breastbone.
No doctor can diagnose it.
There is no test to check
how deep you've been ingrained
in my woodwork, pumping muscles
and spitting valves.
And no scalpel can erase this.
The emptiness of unfriendship.
Cold eyes glinting black
where once they glimmered.
This is a flimsy half-light
coming from my cigarette.
Nothing good will come for years.
Kneel. Lick the salt. Pray.
You're gone.

Loss by Taralitha

The loss of someone who was once near and
dear to us strikes hard, leaves a gaping wound,
and usually hurts more with more time that passes.  
Taralitha portrays this sense of desolation
in the lovely, harsh imagery of this piece.


Suggested by: lion-essrampant
Featured by: SilverInkblot

Hayling (Teaser)The clunker satellite was within his grasp. The gloves of Rise's space-suit rig sent signals to the neural relays attached to his head as he grazed the side of the satellite. The metal felt brittle, and he expected that from a two hundred year old satellite. What caught his interest, however, was the hollow feeling that resonated from his gloves to his head. Satellites were compact and filled with the electronics necessary to equip them with for their job. They were most definitely not hollow.
Rise acted quickly; his shuttle would be out of reach in a few minutes. Clambering around the outside and pawing at the peeling heat tiles-- heat tiles did not belong on a satellite-- he began looking for a handle or a latch of sorts. The metal had felt hollow, but not enough to warrant a sizeable space on the other side and if the satellite was similar to his shuttle that would indicate a panel. Curiosity had always been an undeniable trait of his, and he was determined to investigate further an

Hayling (Teaser) by Nichrysalis

Suggester: "When he says teaser, he means it.
As soon as you're finished reading, there is this
yearning to know more and more."

Featured by doodlerTM
The Stick PeopleIn a town called Rushing Water, there lived a woodcarver with no face.
When we were small, my brothers and I, Daddy would sometimes take us to visit her. We would sit there at her kitchen table, amazed, as this woman with no eyes and indeed no nose or mouth would pour out our tea without spilling a drop.
I was frightened of her because she looked so strange, so grotesque. All the other days of my life, I encountered people with faces square faces, oval faces, faces round and smiling like the moon with slanted eyes or big dark ones or little beady bird eyes. Snub noses, Romans or long, thin, birdlike ones like mine. Yet here was a woman with none of that or any of the faculties that come with those organs.
As a little girl, I dreaded our visits to the faceless woodcarver. But now that I've grown up I miss most all the memories of my childhood, even the somewhat unpleasant ones, so I sometimes let them wander through my mind even when they aren't invited. So I remember the woodcarv

The Stick People by Dead-Raccoons

An entertaining folktale that warns
against ignoring 'silly' superstitions.

For more information, including how to suggest a Deviation
to be featured, please visit us at DailyLitDeviations.

Thanks so much for supporting the lit community and this project!

~ The DailyLitDeviations Team ~

Prepared by: spoems
Daily Literature Deviations is a group that is dedicated to bringing literature to the forefront of the deviantART community. We attempt to accomplish this by daily featuring Literature artists from around the community that deserve the recognition, but are not getting it.

Each day we will feature 5 deviations from the Literature categories in a News Article. In order to support the artists that we feature, we ask that you :+fav: the news article as well as check out the individual pieces. We understand that each day you may not be able to check out each and every one of the pieces. We just ask that you make an attempt to help support the growing Literature community and these artists.
flummo Featured By Owner Nov 19, 2012  Student Writer
Thank you for the feature! :D
Sammur-amat Featured By Owner Nov 18, 2012   General Artist
Lovely as ever! :love:
xlntwtch Featured By Owner Nov 18, 2012   Writer
:reading: ... :heart:
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November 17, 2012
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