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Daily Lit Deviations for June 19^th, 2012

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of your pieces featured by DLD please note LiliWrites.
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Poetry

_{Suggested by: Concora
Featured by LadyofGaerdon}
combatantI.
it strikes me
that this woman
could be a palace.
I marvel at
the opulent dome of
her brow, her arch
expression—
skin like a courtyard of
ivory tiles,
a thousand intersecting
golden lines about her
head and neck.
she beams from atop her
sunlit tower,
beatific and beautiful,
spreads her arms like
open doors,
invites you to be one of
the many
who have wandered her
lavish halls.
II.
I’ve often thought
of myself
as a castle:
all rough-hewn stone
and turrets,
a temper like molten
tar.
my head is crowned
with
embattled parapets,
weapons readied
at the crenels.
I look out from my
guerites, my brattices,
eyes like arrow-slits
and a murder-hole
for a mouth.
III.
I wouldn’t blame you
for choosing her
over me—
for regarding my fortress
as too daunting,
for deciding easy acceptance
better befit you
than proving your worth—
I could forgive you
for being a coward.
but you swam the moat,
killed the guards,
scaled the battlements,
demolished my fortifications—
and
combatant by toxic-nebulae

<sub>Suggester: The vivid imagery
of this piece truly does tell a
story as it flawlessly transitions
from succulent to brutal;
though nevertheless lyrical.


Suggested by: hypermagical
Featured by: betwixtthepages</sub>
brokeni used to dream of broken butterfly wings and
slivered spider silk
now i dream of the damned's tears
and deaths and lullabies
different things
and i think
my dreams of olden days
are beautiful in all their brokenness
compared to what
reality
is
broken by CrepuscularPetrichor

<sub>From the suggester: I honestly
was just blown away by this poem.


Suggested by: Concora
Featured by: betwixtthepages</sub>
The Happened To6.2.13
I.
I was happened to
like a forest fire or a stray cat
caught in a 4 am thunderstorm.
I never saw it coming
and I didn't stand a chance.
II.
I was happened to
when depression pulled out
my title and signed itself over
as the owner of this vessel.
I was happened to as my bones
creaked like shipwrecks and
the cage around my chest
grew tighter, caving in.
III.
I was happened to
each time someone danced into
my life and convinced me I wanted
them, and I was happened to
every time they walked out
and scorned the heart I
held out to them in these hands.
IV.
I was happened to
when I fell in love, I didn't
welcome it, there were no open arms
or joyous shouts, just a quake that
entered my heart every night
and I cursed it, but I loved you.
The Happened To by tiajones

_{From the suggester:  A
beautiful collection of truths.}

Prose

_{Featured by LadyofGaerdon}
White Winter SpiritsWe had forgotten long ago. All of our precious memories had been wrapped meticulously inside our red scarves and animal skin coats, free from the mind but kept close to skin for safekeeping. Like loved children bundled in winter fabric, we are fragile inside our layered past; like lost children forgotten by all we know, we wander aimlessly. Our minds are tainted with the constant ache of homesickness- the stars blazing overhead through the flurry of snow never stops urging us onwards, to seek the stars we remember from home.
In silence, our pack travels. The snow, our shroud, makes no noise as we step upon its banks; the forest, dead from the sting of winter, voices no protests as we wander in its depths; the pack, its individual persons scattered, fights the relentless wind to reach our unattainable goal.
Our ethereal bodies are unable to be touched by the world in which we once lived. Our boots leave no tracks in the snow, nor does our heaving breath leave fog in the air. The memorie
White Winter Spirits by EvelynTaliette

<sub>Highly atmospheric and rich
in description, the author
transports the reader to
the snow-swept otherworld
of lost, wandering spirits.


Featured by doodlerTM</sub>
Broke(n)Sheriff Jacob Huston ran a hand through his hair and gulped down his second cup of black coffee that hour. It was days like this that made him believe that criminals actually conspired with each other to overload the police department. In twenty-four hours, there had been no fewer than four confirmed homicides, eight assaults, two controlled substance possessions, and one attempted robbery.
It was that last item that was threatening to tip Huston over the edge. Apparently, some cowboy-wannabe had walked into the Wells Fargo over on 122nd, pointed a revolver at one of them tellers, and demanded the money in the register. By the time the cops had tracked him down, the money had disappeared. Now he was sitting in a cell, stoutly refusing to speak to anyone other than the sheriff himself.
Huston downed the rest of his coffee and grabbed one of the officers that was walking by. “Douglass, get our John Wayne in the interview room for me. I’ll be there in two.”
Douglass nodd
Broke(n) by Ambiguous-Catharsis

_{A clever and gripping sci-fi story,
complete with twist ending.}



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_{Prepared by: LadyofGaerdon}