Daily Lit Recognition for March 27^th, 2015

We are proud to feature today's Daily Literature Recognition!

You can show your support by ing this News Article.

Please comment and the features and congratulate the artists!

Poetry

_{Featured by: betwixtthepages}

Verso VIThe fallen fronds of palm
have a strange tendency to look
like dead animals
when you drive past them in the street.

Verso VI by QuiEstInLiteris

_{Human eyes are easily tricked into seeing things that are not there or as they never were; this short poem examines the phenomenon.}

_{Suggested by: fernknits}

_{Featured by: chromeantennae}

vigil.i’m a boy who kisses crosses, and the pages of the bible
whisper to me in my sleep, stories of labor and towers
built to be destroyed by an angry god up above; some
call them martyrs, and in the halfway place between
manhood and my psychiatrist’s mouth, i call them
people with nothing better to do—i find god in a box
of tissues on her table and eat the body of christ as
a lithim tablet (saltier than i remember) and pray
that the girl i first kissed found a man who loves her—
brothers and sisters, we are gathered here today to
worship at the white altar, but look at us: we’ll put
our umbrellas above a stranger’s head and risk catching
a cold, we’ll give a man a dollar and come home to a
painfully empty apartment—we’re all just suicidal
and convincing each other not to do it; when will we
look in the mirror, at our raccoon eyes, at our wildfire
hair, at our crooked teeth, and decide that, even if it’s
overcast, the day is bright

vigil. by ohellohara

_{Suggester says: I like this piece for a number of reasons. I think it's well-written overall; I like the little bit of enjambment, particularly in the first stanza, that they've put in; the three-line stanzas seem appropriate and make it easy to read; and, on a personal note, the poem makes me feel as though someone might understand what I'm going through at the moment, and also that there might be a chance that living another day could be worth it.}

Prose

_{Featured by doodlerTM}

The PromiseSophie Armistead sat in a cafe on the hill, trying to decide whether or not to leave her family. It wasn't that she didn't love them; the love she felt for them is what had kept her going for the last seventeen years. But it had become increasingly harder to bear in recent years. The only thing that kept her sane were these stolen hours atop the hill, where she could sit quietly and just think nothing. The truth was, she was tired of being bruised, bitten, and hit, always unexpectedly. She always forgave him, because she knew he didn't know better. But knowing and feeling didn't always agree.
She had known years ago it would be difficult, but she hadn't known just how challenging it would be to raise an autistic son. She knew something was different about Corey when he was an infant but she couldn't pinpoint what exactly. He had been slow to crawl, stand up on his own, and take his first steps. And it took a long time for him to get used to the feel of water. He was also a picky eater.

The Promise by kbuckm

_{A beautiful story about a mother's struggles raising a child with special needs.}

_{Featured by: SilverInkblot}

:thumb503627688:

november nights by SeamlessMaiden

_{An enjoyable scene between two nameless characters.}

Foreign Language

_{Featured by: Malintra-Shadowmoon}

Alter EgoDer Autor:
Bin auch Faust ich oft im Geiste,
Werd zu Mephisto doch fortan.
Ein Stück Alice, das ich mir leiste,
Schnell zu Ahab werden kann.
Ein Funken Carter, der in mir kreiste,
Wird unverhofft zu Kane sodann.
Und selbst wenn ich nur Samsa bin,
Verwandle ich mich zum Käfer hin.
Der Philosoph:
Ich blicke in des Abgrunds Tiefe.
Ach, wär ich in Arcadia,
Wo ich bei Ariadne schliefe,
Wo ich Satyrn und Nymphen sah.
Der Wein gar halkyonisch liefe,
Ein Traum, den Epikur gebar.
Doch führ ich Krieg gegen Moral,
Bin Antichrist, so hab ich keine Wahl.
Der Träumer:
Ich seh erneut, die finsteren Gestalten
Im All und auf des Meeres Grund,
Die blasphemisch bei uns walten,
Ihr Handeln prägt das Erdenrund.
Sie kommen bald, die großen Alten,
Die Welt, sie wird zum Höllenschlund.
So kann ich zitternd nur noch sagen:
I'ä, I'ä, Cthulhu fhtagn!
Der Käferkönig:
Drohend kommt der Stein ins Rollen,
Gleich einem Apfel, der

Alter Ego by AlmostWhitey

_{Traditional poetry piece about the changing self. You will meet the author, the philosopher, the dreamer, the bug king, the poet, the elven prince, the world wanderer, the wolf girl and the distant echo of the philosopher - all in one person. Very interesting concept in the style of the ancient poets.}

For more information, including how to suggest a Deviation

to be featured, please visit us at DailyLitRecognition.

Thanks so much for supporting the lit community and this project!

~ The DailyLitRecognition Team ~

_{Prepared by: doodlerTM}