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Daily Lit Deviations for February 11th, 2012
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 LiliWrites.
We will include you and your piece in a special recognition news article.
Poetry
Suggested by xlntwtch
Featured by betwixtthepages
white noiseThe only thing that seems to keep the world out of my head these days
is white noise
it's a rush of excitedly flapping wings
it's nothing you could grasp but a sound and a colour that is none
I try to keep the world out
(she is playing her music too loud too much these days)
and I think of you, ears buzzing with white noises until they ache.
And I catch myself thinking
I wish you were my white noise -
the sound in between my heartbeats,
the same words whispered so close to my ear they sound like beautiful little secrets,
the rock I cling to when the waves crash violently all around me to keep from drowning, I wish you were
my home, my favourite pair of arms, my heart, my safe place, the one to soothe my mind.
I wish you were so many more things
than just far away and as impossible to touch
as white noise.
white noise by miserabel
The way this writer uses a "non-colour" to describe
feelings and life dreams is a fantastic example of how a
good writer can find something to explore. The idea of
distance being compared to white noise is gorgeous,
and will make readers ponder long after finishing this piece.
Featured by: betwixtthepages
note to self [narcissist].please dear
don't find yourself so fascinating
you're tripping up on your own inadequacies
as if the world's
never seen them before
please dear
you've really got to stop
this dog-and-pony show
this "welcome-to-my-personal-tragedy"
exhibition
really dear
you've done nothing but make
a damned fool
of yourself.
note to self [narcissist]. by edge-of-psychosis
We all do it: put our tragedies, our sorrows,
on display for all the world to see. We all do it, and
we all find comfort in being comforted for it. This
lovely poem, by edge-of-psychosis, is a plea
for the self to change.
Prose
Featured by doodlerTM
Kindred SpiritsThe sky was framed by a rim of delicate ice from shattered snow crystals. Claire would've called it hoar-frost except she didn't think that's what it was. Interesting word though, she rolled it around in her mouth as she stared unblinkingly up at the blue, blue sky. It got darker in the middle like glaze pooling at the bottom of a ceramic bowl. The cold seeped through her thin jacket and her hands were clenched tight into fists shoved deep in her pockets in an attempt to keep feeling in the tips of her fingers.
Despite the cold she was calm, comfortable even, and there was something about the blue of the sky that made her feel like if she kept staring long enough she could unravel all the secrets of the universe. Every answer to every question was somewhere in that blue.
"Are you lost?" asked a voice, a red nosed girl stood over her, face intruding into Claire's snow framed picture of the sky.
Claire took a deep breath, feeling ice cold air cut the back of her throat.
"No," she said.
"
Kindred Spirits by Mertus
A tale of a friendship that is
as quickly forgotten as it is formed.
Featured by: SilverInkblot
3.14The boy sat on the edge of the wooden pier shivering as the ocean that once hugged him tightly dripped off his body in disgust, leaving only a thin layer of green sludge between his skin and the crisp air around him. The smell of dead fish rose out of the ocean grave and wrapped around him until his nose could no longer smell it at all. As the sun left the hazy blue sky, he watched the boisterous boats tread further into the ocean until they were eaten whole by the horizon. His stomach bubbled, gurgling as if to imitate a toddler drowning.
“You. Your shift’s been outta here for an hour,” a man, dressed in rubber rain clothes and black boots said. “We don’t pay ya to loiter after your deed is done.”
“You don’t pay me at all,” Pi mumbled, directing his eyes away from the murky green water and towards the man’s agitated eyes. “What? You don’t.”
“I pay ya plenty,” the man sneered, “for a rat-bo
3.14 by saevuswinds
With great imagery and interesting characters,
"3.14" offers a brief but well-written story about a boy
and how he deals with problems and change. The ending
gives a great sense of irony and wordplay.
Foreign Language
Featured by Exnihilo-nihil
AquarelleSur l'infini blanc
La touche céruléenne
Une étoile d'eau
(c)2013 Didizuka-don't use it without permission
Aquarelle by didizuka
A simple and beautiful haiku, with a good
use of sonority (the liquid "L" well placed.)
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Prepared by: SilverInkblot
Okay, here goes...
Many comments have been made, many people have hauled off and jumped and are now wondering what is really going on, many tears have been cried (at least by me cuz y'all--y'all are mean. Enough said about that, it doesn't matter. I wish everyone all of the best and more.
I would like to take a few minutes to say two things:
1) Many have come through DLD and been better in this literature community for it. Dedication and hard work helped forward their already progressing talent. Not me, not Will, not Lili or any other running administrator--just dedication and hard work. We have present and former hats, badges and most of all the owners of co
Will's Final Words
Final Words
It is with a hesitant mind and a bloated heart that I write this. DailyLitDeviations (https://www.deviantart.com/dailylitdeviations) was something that was formed out of frustration and anger. I suppose I am not surprised to see it go out that way. A young man named Brandon and I were complaining in a private chat room about how little literature was featured on dA and that we were tired of it. We both wrote several emails to the staff only to be ignored like so many quality artists out there. Eventually we knew that we had to do something or explode from frustration. And so DLD was born. I stayed up for 5 or 7 days straight. My wife hated me and my phone bill went throug
New Information...
It seems that all of you in need of seeing this tradition go on can be satisfied. I would direct you to the account of TheseKrimzonFlames (https://www.deviantart.com/thesekrimzonflames) where you will find links to a new account where his version of DLD will go on in a new and different form.
I am awaiting a journal entry from VertigoArt (https://www.deviantart.com/vertigoart) to post here with his thoughts on our closing of this particular project. It will be posted soonest.
Few know of my own love and time put into this project because few worked night and day alongside me to take care of everything possible from general administration duties to contests, to answering 100s of messages a day and soliciting everywhere p
Everyone, please hold on...
Please be advised that we are in the process of deciding what and how to do with this account by way of moving on--by "we" I mean myself, VertigoArt (https://www.deviantart.com/vertigoart), and various seniors/members that are interested in sticking with something DLD or DLD-like. Everyone's responses are being taken into consideration--even the personal attacks made on me are valued opinions. This account owns a number of points and I am considering doling them out to a group of people who would like to start-up a new group in the same vein. A group of people who are concerned with the work of the literature community and not the kudos that go with serving the community. I ha
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oh my, that feature is so very lovely, thank you very much! I'm honored and overjoyed!