Daily Lit Recognition for April 21st, 2014
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Featured by: betwixtthepages
His lap was reserved for science...i still see his hands
coated in soil
coaxing seeds to life
bringing his creations to us
maybe that was his love
the calluses from wooden shovels
from making wooden fences
from the circle-purple grapes
the furry peaches
maybe he loved us
the same way the cat did
secretly perched atop my toddler bed
until dawn danced on my fluttering lids,
leaving before the morning sun
would make stark her black in the light
maybe he loved us
through the water and earth and wind
that fed his garden plants
maybe he loved us
with the force of sunlight
but we just never knew
His lap was reserved for science... by ArbiterGirl
Reminder for everyone: Tell the people you
love, that you care. They aren't mind-readers.
Featured by: AyeAye12
Blue Kentucky by sydnerella
A poem that captivates the homeliness
and essence of a homeland, with beautiful
imagery too; country poetry at its finest.
Featured by: SilverInkblot
NamesakeThey called him Striking Jonathan, which was funny, in retrospect, when they had to pull him away from a street-brawl, and tragic when they discovered that he learned to fight from his father; but at least they knew he was like them. When pressed for details from the younger kids - the ones that hadn't learned about 'couth' yet, or keeping their mouths shut - he'd just say:
"Childhood is nothing but a story to tell when you're older," which didn't disregard the fact that you are who you know; birds of a feather flock together - and they were all latchkey kids, left to their own neglect until their parents made an appearance and took over for them.
They figured, in the end, that that was why he left; took to standing on street corners instead of door-steps, until the day he got in a car and didn't return.
"D'you reckon he lost his virginity before or after he got in a car?" Beatnik - Beat Nick (their names were a part of their lives, and their lives a part of their name) - is the one to
Namesake by Psyghostis
A stark look into the people whose
names [are] a part of their lives, and
their lives a part of their name.
Suggested by: SCFrankles
Featured by: BlakeCurran
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
The Coffee God by anapests-and-ink
Suggester writes: This is a playful
and magical look at romance, courtship
rituals and the meaning of coffee. Prose
with a spoonful of poetry.
Suggested by: Finnyanne
Featured by: Malintra-Shadowmoon
Schattentaenzer Shadowdancers A Poem in German and English
Das Licht des Tages schwindet
Und die Welt liegt im Zwielicht
Ich öffne die Augen
Das ist der Augenblick in dem das Leben mich bindet
Das Zwielicht ist die Jagdzeit der Kreaturen
Die weder zu Licht noch zu Dunkelheit gehören
Wir sind die Wächter zwischen Licht und Dunkelheit
Halten die Wage zwischen Licht und Schatten
Greifen ein, wenn eine Seite überwiegt
Wir sind die Verlorenen die niemand beachtet
Die, die immer da sind, doch von niemandem wahrgenommen
Doch wer es will sieht und verschwommen
Wir sind wie die Schatten in denen wir wandeln
Immer da doch nie gesehen
Regeln alles ohne dass ihr es versteht
Wir schützen euch ohne das ihr es merkt
Tun im Verborgenen unser Werk
Leben und sterben ungesehen
The light of the day is fading
And the world lays in twilight
Schattentänzer by Finnyanne
This work is very thought-inducing,
reflecting the emotions of someone seeing
the world with other eyes. It is written out of a
gut feeling, energy that is flown from mind into pen.
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Prepared by: SilverInkblot