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Daily Lit Deviations for December 15^th, 2011

We are proud to feature today's Daily Literature Deviations!
You can show your support by ing this News Article.
Please comment and the features and congratulate the artists!


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

Poetry

_{Featured by spoems}
The Taste of YoungSucculents are a freak of nature.
Come here, boy. Let me tell you
about real plants, waving, twining,
root deep, reach-for-the-stars frond tips.
They'll change your skinny life.
Come, boy, down to the hardwoods
wearing their summer green.
Slip yourself through the tangle of underbrush,
damp leaves clotting at your feet,
the mulch of death sucking you into its soothing bed.
Follow the stream to the west end,
where the poplars thin
and the sun begins to spread its skirt
over the fattened ground. Never mind
the thorns; the vines are not confused.
They know exactly how to please you
with their blackish seeds.
Purple your mouth here, boy.
Stain your white hands.
Color your whiskerless chin dark and dark
until you understand the taste of young.
You'll find no fat-leaved, hunched-to-the-ground
thirsters here. It's all in the rain, boy.
All in the cold, driving rain.
The Taste of Young by Blzzard

<sub>The metaphors in this verse seem
 subversive and mesmerizing like the blind
 and relentless nature of thirsty midday
vegetation.


Suggested by: bottle-in-the-sea
Featured by: LadyofGaerdon</sub>
The SculptorBefore he would have harvested a tree,
hacked off its limbs,
skinned it,
torn it from the earth,
shaved one by one its cells - its outer core,
until it was what he believed it was,
no more a tree.
Wiser, he walks deep in to the wood,
underneath a forest giant he stops,
looks up in to the leafy branches, sighs,
climbs and sheds his tears upon its boughs.
"The Sculptor" by somnomollior

_{From the suggester: "Unique, as much
 as humans can be, if only they would take
a moment and see". Quite right; sometimes,
 less can be more, as is the case with this
 piece.}

Prose

_{Featured by shebledgreenink}
Willow     It's freezing, sub-zero out here. I make my way through the park to the lake, where the trees open out and you can see the sky once more. It's beautiful, on a day like today. Not a cloud in the sky - just a pale whiteness, a hole in the fabric of the heavens. I take the mud track through the undergrowth and find a place where no one will see.
      I grew up here, in this town, by this park. We used to come here all the time, to ride our bikes, feed the ducks in summer, and in winter, we'd take our skates and head for the lake, where we'd carve patterns into the ice. There's a photograph of me I remember, one of those old Polaroids that's been exposed to the light a little too often so the colour's all washed out. In it I'm crouched beneath the branches of an old willow tree, parting the leaves like curtains to frame my face. I'm grinning at the person behind the camera, my eyes not quite focused on the future. I don't remembe
Willow by angel-in-pieces

<sub>The loss and despair in this piece
is far too subtle to become tiring, and it's
 interspersed with enough perspective and
hindsight to make it relatable. An excellent
portrayal of strong emotion through a vivid
 scene and an insightful character.


Suggested by monstroooo
Featured by shebledgreenink</sub>
She StaysI walk along the pier, your hand in mine, the sun setting beautifully into the grey sea. The mist gently drifts over the water, betraying the cold of winter. I don't mind, though. I only have to look at you, and I feel warm.
It's tough not to sound soppy.
Honestly, I'm not used to having this. I'll never really be used to it. I'd been lonely for a long time before I met you. I didn't think I'd have the kind of relationship that you watch on the cinema screens or read about in novels. I genuinely thought I'd be alone forever.
How wrong I was.
-
You smiled at me as I walked into Falmer bar and we made eye contact. I returned the gesture nonchalantly. It had been a hard day so far – four hours of academic obligations back to back. Getting up for 10am was still a struggle, even in my third year.
Your smile stuck in my head as I faced away from you, leaning against the bar counter. I ordered a portion of cheesy chips and walked through to the sofas in the back bar, grateful for an oppo
She Stays by Ja-mes

_{From the suggester: This love
story is brought to life by a structure
 which splices small scenes from the past
with small scenes from the present. It
tells both a history and a moment at the same
time, lending authenticity and meaning to both.}

Foreign Language

_{Featured by kamy-ska}
:thumb268457020:
Palabras e imágenes by Blackangel031190

_{Because, it is not always a
picture is worth a thousand words.}



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~ The DailyLitDeviations Team ~


_{Prepared by: Ebahr}