Daily Literature Deviations for September 2, 2009

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Daily Lit Deviations for September 2nd, 2009</u>



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Poetry




Featured by ColonelFitz
untitled 5sometimes i just want to shake you.
to shakeshakeshake you like the sky shakes out rain.
mostly because you forget -
you forget how the trees whisper at midnight,
and how to paint with the smell of blackberries,
and how red playground paint looks silver in darkness and moonlight,
silver like your eyes, like wet quarters.
you forget the beating of my (your) heart
and the smell of rain and cocaine.
i ask you, don’t you remember? don’t you?
your mouth just twists into your soft, round smile and breathes out no’s,
negatives, and paradoxes.
so i scratch notes into your tree, your trashcan, your stairs,
and the bottom of your pool.
i left a piece of glass in your spaceship and
i tie curtains all over the windows of your sunroom
asking, don’t you remember? and telling you, i remember.
i remember laughing and hunting through brambles
to find the right paint to throw at you
and running through parking garages to hide from the wires in your speakers
and sneaking throug

"untitled 5" by KestrelAspen

The imagery in this poem is ephemeral to the
point of surrealism, its very evanescence helping
to convey the transient nature of the feelings and
thoughts and memories conveyed in the piece.
This piece flows smoothly and quickly, its subtext
strong and unstoppable, a beautiful work.



Featured by KneelingGlory

"A Rib of Adam" by caitidyd

I first read this poem about a month ago
and offered critique, which the author used
perfectly to rewrite and improve this poem
(which was already great to begin with). The
imagery, flow, and word choice are all spot
on to fit the romantic mood.




Foreign Language




Featured by: Magic-fan
Onvergoten tranen.Onvergoten tranen.
In stilte rouw ik om mijn kindheid.
Waar is de tijd gebleven?
Waarom groeien mensen op, als de volwassenheid alleen maar zorgen en lasten meebrengt?
Ik verberg mijzelf en houd me vast.
Maar veel mag het niet baten, ooit komt de dag, o wee, dat ik ik mijzelf volwassen noemen mag.
Zal ik ook zo arrogant en zelfingenomen worden?
Zal ook ik niet luisteren naar het betoog van een kind?
Zal ik haar toekomst wegsmijten en door het slijk halen?
Of kan ik een verschil maken?
Misschien ten ondergaan in mijn poging?
Creativiteit wordt gevreesd en vernederd.
Kunst wordt regels opgelegd en opmerkelijke meningen gedoogd.
Wanneer kunnen we eindelijk onszelf zijn, in het grote theater?
Liever zit ik tussen mijn penselen en potloden dan tussen MacBeth en Romeo.
Ik heb niet gevraagd om deze poppenkast, en ik wil er niet aan mee doen.
Laat mij mezelf zijn.
Dat wat de meeste mensen al verleerd blijken te zijn.
Ik wil, als ik morgen zou sterven, kunnen zeggen dat ik écht gele

"Onvergoten tranen." by Mirte-Anna

This poem shows the world the way it is. Where
creativity is not allowed to be what it should be.
Mirte-Anna does well in showing the emotion in
this realistic Dutch poem.




Prose




Featured by: Kitri-du-Lac
:thumb125712581:
"The Charlotte Night" by ThornyEnglishRose

An interesting piece of horror that maintains
a sense of realism in its portrayal of the main
character. The writer uses first person to cleverly
reveal the plot and set up the main character.



Featured by i-W-i-s-h
:thumb135522068:
"Lost Causes..." by velocity07

Love has different meanings, and with a play of words,
velocity07 describes what she/he thinks it means.



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