November 20th, 2014
though there are a million ways to dielover,
though there are a million ways to die by somewhither
Today's Pick of the Day!
Be sure to check out the other featured pieces:
Daily Lit. Recognition for November 20th, 2014
What to Do
To submit a piece for consideration, please choose an Admin from the appropriate category--Poetry, Prose, or Foreign Language--and note them with your suggestion. Easy as that!
Please submit your suggestion to only one category admin at a time to help us avoid confusion.
A deviant may only be featured once every 30 days. A deviation may only be featured once, ever. Do not suggest pieces that are already recipients of a DLR, DD, or DLD please.
The current submission format guidelines are:
"title" by AccountName
And an optional, brief description of why the piece should be featured could be included here.
We would appreciate it very much if this format was followed, especially the descriptor – if you can convince us of the piece in a few, short lines, we’re much more likely to give it the consideration it deserves! To see if a deviant has been featured recently, check the two monthly pages linked:
If you would like to suggest a piece to be featured, please send it to one of the lovely deviants listed here:
UnspecifiedUnknown Guidelines can be found on profile.
OfOneSoul Guidelines can be found on profile.
SpriteBlayde Guidelines can be found on profile.
WorldWar-Tori Guidelines. Can also be found on profile.
Foreign Language Admins
Malintra-Shadowmoon (German and French) Guidelines can be found on profile page.
ArtCrusade (German) Guidelines
OoJitkaoO (German) Guidelines
Special Swing admins
SilverInkblot Guidelines can be found on profile page.
Daily Literature Recognition is here to recognize the literary community here on deviantART. We yearn for good literature and we thrive on your words.
By showcasing one featured Daily Deviation per day the Literature Community Volunteers provide the community with a showcase of excellence in Literature. In contrast, we will be showcasing excellence with a series of literature pieces each day here to serve the community. We are a diverse group featuring several pieces of quality literature every day.
In such a large community many artists feel that their work goes unnoticed. We are here to help change that!
though there are a million ways to dielover,
remember when the ocean ate you
and didn't bother to pick its teeth
afterwards. it did not recall
because it never knew it. remember,
not only did you die alone,
you died anonymous.
and lover remember the time
you died of cancer
which is always hungry. it spit you out knobbed
and shaved and rubbed
like a stone from the riverbed. spit
you out skinny because it does not like
its own aftertaste. you died a shrill
stem of yourself because death
like to play with its food first. my lover,
lover, do you remember
when the train came to meet you
and its arms were open? how brainlessly
it broke you, and you shattered
like a vase falling from the window sill.
it was not whistling, but howling your name
in an octave only grief can touch.
beloved lover, i love you
and when you leapt from that high
place remember that you were a bird
for one sheer
second. lover lover i love
you and it is a cruel thing to do to me:
it is t
And Everything Was BlueAnd everything was blue
but nothing was sad
How was I supposed to know
it would (almost) be you?
It was just my mind
I just liked your jeans
and your eyes
And then you walked
through the doors
taller than before
It was just my heart
And I just liked your eyes
and your smile
Then I learned your ways:
one hand on your hip, one knee bent
the face of a tired man
and the veins of a kid
There's a roar behind
your tightrope lips
That can disarm, strengthen
a silence, a shyness
a jazz 'n' blues aorta
the definites before
"...kinda", "...maybe", "...sorta"
It was just my head and heart
not knowing what to do
I just loved
being near you
It started with a flash
of teeth to
a tease, a salute,
then everything was blue
Today we buried my uncle.Today was the funeral for my Uncle Paul. He is the fourth sibling Papa has had to say goodbye to, along with both his parents when he was only eight. Papa has seemed so at peace as Uncle Paul struggled with cancer. They visited all the time this last year, especially after the terminal diagnosis was given in February. I watched Papa at the reception this afternoon; he talked with his siblings, cousins, and nephews and nieces, and held his grandson. He smiled a lot, laughed, and joshed around with family and friends.
He seems at peace.
Then I thought about what he might be like alone. If he weeps or has wept in private over the year as the radiation treatments failed to have an effect, as Paul’s health deteriorated, when his brother was confined to a hospice bed because he could no longer move.
I pictured Papa singing to the goats during the morning milking with tears on his cheeks, his voice choking up until he eventually leans his head against the warm, hairy side of the doe, wa
I Speak to Everyone.As dusk fell, there was a knock at the door. Clara opened it with a mixture of fear and hope.
Superimposed upon an icy backdrop, with pink-tinged sky and trees groaning under the weight of ever increasing snowfall, stood a small lad, still clinging to the knocker as if his hand was frozen to it. He looked surreal, pale and fragile, also somewhat poorly clad for the weather conditions. And yet he had a vibrancy and urgency about him.
He released his hand from the knocker and tugged Clara’s arm.
“Please come with me,” he urged. “The man is calling for you and he cannot move.”
Man? Frank? Her husband had been missing for six days. Her hopes raised! Quickly, without speaking further, she grabbed her coat and followed the boy as he led her to the edge of the woods and onto a small path she had never noticed before. It was untrodden and the virgin snow upon it, yielded helplessly to their footfall.
Questions surged in her mind but they remained unspoken; the urg