Gonna Soarcaught me a birdie&brokeGonna Soar by londonrey
her birdie neck, hollow-boned,
sounded more like a crinkle than a snap
really you'd hardly be sure it were
until you've got its
in your unregretful hand
gonna braid her wings into my hair,
gonna raise her birdie babies as my own,
gonna jump off this cliff with them in arms,
Daily Literature Deviations - June 24th, 2011Daily Lit Deviations for June 24th, 2011Daily Literature Deviations - June 24th, 2011 by DailyLitDeviations
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.
Featured by bowie-loon123
Paint a Picture by BeyondJen
A fine work that comes as a
breath of fresh air. Sensuous but
gentle, it explores love and tenderness
with patience and tentativeness, indeed
painting a lovely picture.
Suggested by Vigilo
Featured by apple-dark
buffalo bill's Sutra by :devanapests-and-
Two SoulsChirping of crickets mixed in with moonlight,Two Souls by BeyondJen
notions of idle hands set free on skin soft as twilight.
Doodles under fingertips with a mind of their own,
wanderin' mind follows like the wind traveling home.
A breath, so quick,
delicate and light;
A quiver, so brief,
like the unsteady pace of crickets tonight.
Silence falls between heartbeats set aflame,
after whispers of love speaking my name.
Blanket of two souls mixed in with moonlight,
notions of dreams for these two lovers tonight.
TaglessDon't wash me, I'm clean;Tagless by BeyondJen
I'm a human being it seems.
I can kiss
the way others behold
their view of us.
Don't bleach me, I'm pure;
I'm a decent being I assure.
motionI love you like amotion by toxic-nebulae
a half-pause in a torrent of
during which life
stutters into being.
I want to take you
in the breathless spaces between
where passion builds and shudders
into a trailing afterthought
cinnamoni.cinnamon by pullingcandy
you've removed your hands
to make room for the darkness
the empty space between
your torso and floor seems
in a hospital room half a mile
from your house somebody who
you inherited your smile from
sleeps hooked to wires and beeps
consistently into twilight
like a torn valentine you post
yourself in the mail with an open mind
and hope you do not get returned to sender
the last thing you need right now
is a broken heart
if you tick the days off on your left hand
it doesn't seem so many have passed and
you can focus on the present instead of the past
and when you make her recipe for apple pie
it won't taste like a memory
|'Cause I dig... <3|
|A hero, if ever I had one.|
MovementThere’s enough anger in the airMovement by FuzzyHoser
to strangle anyone. Anyone can
say they’d do this or that. That
isn’t the point here. Here and now
makes our tomorrow. Tomorrow
is the focus. Focus on that – that
we need tomorrow. Tomorrow
will be our truth. Truth is noted
after the fact. Fact isn’t respected
in the now. Now is when we react
to what happened then. Then was
the foundation of it all. All must
recognize what is needed. Needed
now is ground to stand on. On this,
plant yourself – yourself, and not
someone else’s voice. Voice instead
your hope, your rage. Rage against
the wrongs, with your rights. Rights
ought to be as free as breath. Breath
should never be taken by hatred.
Dear Parents:Strike the soft skin of your children; leave marks.Dear Parents: by FuzzyHoser
Go on: show them how hard they must become
to be like you.
Mold them to be mindless: coach them to react
with fists; make them believe that words have
Shape them into an almighty monster: modern man.
Destroy their purity and imagination by damning them
with absurd words of a god who previous men
Teach children to follow a leader, and to not ever
break the circle they belong to, so society never
Above all: train them to question love, even your own.
WindowsHere am I, repeated,
and beyond waits everything
but everything is more
than I can bear.
I am not built for altitude
nor looking far afield;
groves and granite-sided mountains
stop my gaze
like rest for every tired wing;
a cover in the coldest time
snugged up beneath my chin.
Windows nothing more,
but safe lies there behind them
as the chambered hours pass;
safe sleeps there behind them
on the soft side of the glass.
The Town WitchEvery town has its witch. At least I think they do. I know ours does. She isn't scary like stories say she should be. She has a face like my older sister's, the one who isn't married yet, with an eager smile and bright eyes. Her hands though are like my Momma's, calloused and stretched with small roots under the skin.
Her cottage is just outside of town with a small path that runs down to the sea. Her garden is full of overgrown plants that Momma would always "tut" at when we walked by, but it's full of herbs and flowers that she tends with care. She always smells like the honeysuckle that grows around her door and like baking. She bakes often, with her windows thrown open, her singing drifting through her garden all way to the road, the thick sills stacked with rows of cooling pastries. She always leaves batches of small, sweet buns on the outer edge where us children could easily reach. Not that she ever let on that she knew we were taking them. It was the great game amongst us, pret
|I'm around if anyone needs to talk about anything. I miss being active with you guys and a part of your lives, so any time anyone needs an ear - I'm around. And if I don't know you, you're still welcome to give me a shout. Everyone needs someone to talk to sometimes, and I never mind listening (or reading) anything.|
I can't always keep up with proper thanks, but know that I do thank anyone who reads anything of mine.
Also, you're already welcome. So no need to thank me for a thing. (: