Daily Lit Recognition for November 24th, 2014
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Poetry
Suggested by: NemoX7
Featured by: betwixtthepages
Dumb by SheDares
From the suggester: An inventive poem,
which reflects the difficulties of verbal communication.
Featured by: AyeAye12
Homewe craved for solitude in silence
the scent of September moss
sand falling between the fingers
~
what we found was
post-war wooden house geometry
secrets between floorboards
typography decades out of date
texture only found in old books
the touch on the softest of skin
falling into the night while watching the snow
~
the labyrinth of steel and stone
where words did not come easy
is now abandoned
Home by talvipaivanseisaus
Using concepts as descriptions for memory,
Talvi shows his brilliance in not only Six Word
Stories, but also longer-form poetry.
Prose
Featured by doodlerTM
The Old Man and the StenchThis summer an acquaintance told me that an old man was looking for someone to help him write a book.
"He's an old university professor, and a bit quirky," he told me. "He'll only be around for a few months, because he needs to return to the university and he'll sell his apartment here, but until then he wants to get the book done."
So I decided to check out the job offer.
I met the old man at a bar. He wore a cowboy hat and a suit which made him look like someone who'd stumbled into town straight from the set of the Dallas series. I sat down with him and we started talking. Now, as I was speaking, my eyes wandered to his suit, where I happened to notice a green stain which seemed to be a grass stain. I averted my eyes to pretend it wasn't there, because who knew how the old man had gotten it - maybe he'd stumbled and fallen into the grass and now he was embarrassed about it.
Now, while averting my eyes, I saw other parts of his suit. A red stain, a yellow stain... Different colors, di
The Old Man and the Stench by TheOtherSarshi
Sometimes the most interesting stories
are the true ones; so is the case with "The Old Man and the Stench."
Suggested by: C-A-Harland
Featured by: SilverInkblot
Stairs and SeashellsI woke up in my bed as usual. Like every morning, my eyes fluttered open and I was looking up at the same ceiling I had always looked up at. The ragged glow-in-the-dark stars that my brother Paul had stuck on the roof when we were children blinked comfortingly as I rose from my bed, swinging my legs over the side.
Unlike every other morning, I realized I was already fully dressed. My favourite pink trainers were laced evenly on each foot and my black jeans were snug around my legs.
It was mid-evening, I realized with a start, as an orange glow caught my eye where the curtains had been left slightly open. I must have taken a nap?
My door was open, so I slipped down the hallway and seated myself behind the counter. My mother was in the kitchen, humming as she crushed garlic under a fine knife for the bread that was still a heap of dough on the counter next to her. Behind me I heard the low plonk as Maria sat down in front of her piano in the corner of the room. I smiled as her fingers st
Stairs and Seashells by G-R-Visini
Suggester: "Captivating right from the beginning,
and heart wrenching until the end."
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~ The DailyLitRecognition Team ~
Prepared by: SilverInkblot
Skin by SimplySilent