Ignoring the StarsThe stars above do not know love; from hearts their bodies are parted.Ignoring the Stars by `TwilightPoetess
Frozen, they stay far from the day; dark skies the waters they've charted.
You must forget their loneliness; don't let your wishes get started!
They'll wipe your tears, chase down your fears...and then leave you broken hearted.
Please send me poetry suggestions via note to be considered for feature in the Daily Lit Deviations newsletters!
About Daily Lit Deviations:
Daily Literature Deviations is a group dedicated to promoting the work of Literature artists on DeviantArt.
By showcasing one featured Daily Deviation per day the Literature Gallery Moderators 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 in a News Article to serve the community. We are a diverse group featuring 5 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!
Please show your support by reading and ing the pieces featured in our daily News Article.
Only one suggestion per note please. If you'd like, send me a short (3-4 sentences) description on why you feel the piece deserves to be featured.
Please write "DLD Suggestion" in the subject line of your note.
Please do NOT suggest the same piece to multiple DLD admins.
DLD does not accept fan fiction; don't send me suggestions of fan fiction.
Please remember that DLD aims to feature quality. Therefore, writing that contains massive grammar or spelling errors will not be considered. (An intentional lack of capitals is not considered a grammar issue.)
You can suggest your own work!
I am a Poetry Admin. Please only send me poetry suggestions!
Make A Suggestion:
If you'd like to suggest poetry for consideration, please send your suggestions to me or:
If you'd like to suggest prose for consideration, please send your suggestions to:
You can suggest works in foreign languages to:
Wonderland--C.whiskers a-quiver,Wonderland--C. by `TwilightPoetess
a waistcoat and pocket watch;
my, how time flies...
A weeping willow
stretches in the breeze; rabbit
screams break the silence.
the tardy's swan song,
unintended siren's song;
hark! the rabbit hole!
Cheshire cat preens,
whiskers bloody; on a lake,
swans snuggle sunset.
knaves in a panic,
shuffling in the garden;
A soft lullaby
through thick smoke; caterpillar
on a tall toadstool.
waking up at tea time,
feeling out of sorts.
SundreamsSundreams kiss dry skin,Sundreams by `TwilightPoetess
waves crashing--thunder--on the
shore. Gulls' broken
cries, crisp across the wind,
I know the
mortal world can't keep.
Animal Ridges1. Nervous MomentsAnimal Ridges by `TwilightPoetess
2. Dusk Settling
3. Meandering Landscapes
4. Lover's Alibi
5. Polka Dots
6. Starlight Echoing
7. Hopeless Dreaming
8. Summer Warnings
9. Summer Waters
10. Breaking the Veil
11. Slipping Sunbeams
12. Painting Moonlight
13. Lurking Lioness
14. Pirouetting Shadows
15. Wild-Cat Eyes
16. Plucked Birds
17. Cotton Skies
18. Waking the World
Crescendo BreathsPhantom phoenix, your lullaby--Crescendo Breaths by `TwilightPoetess
broken like the wind over sandy shores--
promises my heart will halt
when you sneak, shy, into my veins, but...
Crescendo--my pulse cries
as your tail feathers tangle with
my fist, clenched clam-tight to your name.
Sloped CeilingsA black galaxySloped Ceilings by `TwilightPoetess
billows around moon-rock knees;
bird-shaped and lonely,
the constellations twinkle--
stickers on a dark ceiling.
Atrocity.I know your name;Atrocity. by ~Eleh
It is wet wind through thick
leaves on warm nights.
Our pensive heart, drawn on the worn
thin velvet pages of my favorite books.
I wear your soul like a cloak
against what-ifs and listen wholly
to the crickets I
robbed you of.
Daily Literature Deviations for April 7th, 2012Daily Literature Deviations for April 7th, 2012 by =DailyLitDeviations
Guidelines | How to Suggest a DLD | Grou
Black Market TechnologyPortable lives withBlack Market Technology by ~ninjababy
no strings attached
played to the tune
of Angry Birds
and penned by Swype
in the light
of a thousand pixels,
and it's all fun
and games until
someone loses a kidney.
CleansingWatching with indifference:Cleansing by ~ARIrish
a wretched fly, wings waterlogged,
clawing across the plain of my stomach.
Not caring if it lives or dies;
if the vomit crusted to my lips is
apathy, or something worse.
Tracing seashells on the enamel
with the grime of my soles, I watch
as it begins to dig open a small, round hole,
scarlet against the white of the skin;
it crawls inside to shelter
from the crashing waves.
frostbite may be required -accompanied by crackling sparks,frostbite may be required - by =HillsOfMyst
a golden-orange fire dances merrily
as i scribble prose on restorant napkins;
i shred them to pieces and they litter the tartan rug
like piles of patterned paper stars
and i, clad in woolen stockings,
a mug of chai tea
and a feline companion curled at my feet,
ponder as to the nature of writing
endless poetry on wintry evenings
The Reflection"When the gods return from the ends of the fasting sky, they'll stand in the rain and knock and knock." The line falls from Phora Bidden's lips with the heft of a habit. A mantra from his childhood, the words had acted as a lullaby, warding off the nightmares and dream demons. Chuckling at the memories, he hops from the truck with a box of bedding in his arms. Tossing it to the ground, Phora licks his lips. His forked tongue slips across the skin like a whisper. As soon as the packing's done, he intends to find a lake to slip into. It's hot; the air is drying him to a crisp. He needs the slide of water across his scales. Phora shakes his head, grabs another box from the truck, and gazes down the street. Drooping potted plants wave from his neighbors' porches, their leaves a sick, spotted gray. The pamphlet his last therapist gave him hadn't been kidding; he's been here one day,
The Secrets of Pink Phones--FFM 4Three and a half blocks away, a car alarm blares, the subtle undertones of Sim's next big hit pounding mails into his skull. Sim hates epiphanies, the ideas jumbled and melting like ice cream in the hit across his tired brain. When he made the wish to be a famous rapper six years ago, he hadn't expected everything to change. A small-town country boy, Sim never expected to make it here. New York honks, hoots, and screams around him, and all Sim wants to do is close his ears and get away. The midday sun, wrapped with city smog and the aftermath of last night's riots, is a broiled red. It reminds Sim a bit of his own heart, aching and torn from all the mistakes of his past. The wish, he realizes now, was one of them. So was marrying her and then locking her up for so long.
"Looks like tha moon, don' it?" The husky voice, wilting in the heat, leaps at Sim from an empty alley. Sim t
Watching Butterflies--FFM 17Sometimes, he wishes he had someone to talk to. Ray sits on a bench, his rusting, creaky elbows perched on his rusting, creaky knees, and watches the butterflies. Cumulonimbus clouds stretch across the sky above his head, the kinks in his metal spine curved against the wood and groaning with the breeze.
"Let's put him here," they'd said, a gleam in their eyes. "He'll make a great tourist attraction!"
They'd glued him to the bench, molding his rusting, creaky feet to a slab of heavy concrete. "Feed the birds with Ray," they'd yelled. "He's a great listener!"
And for twenty years, he was. He'd heard war stories and sex scandals and all the secrets a child could keep bottled up in their chests. He'd heard sob stories and comedic reenactments and over thirty-two million declarations of love. He'd kept count. Sometimes, people came back more than once. Often, Ray had been ignored.
Phoenix SongsBreath like smoke on cold mornings,
we'd watch the sun peak over the mountains
and you'd whisper,
"Phoenix rises in the east,
beak filled with song and feathers burning,
the hope of adventure at the start of a new day."
Phoenix was a mystery
to a twelve year old boy with big dreams;
in the hours that passed
from one dawn to the next,
I'd imagine a plume of red-orange-yellow-gold
and search the horizon
as if Phoenix would choose to enlighten me
on the ways of waking the world.
Twenty years, turtle slow,
and the only thing that changed was our routine;
we watched the day start
from opposite sides of the sea
but I always whispered your words
in the bustle of city mornings.
When the time came for your life to start again,
you whispered of Phoenix once more.
"Phoenix sets in the west,
embers fading to dust and song stuttering,
for a moment,
into a silence even man cannot break,
a last breath of peace before rebirth."
And Phoenix remains a mystery,
but I watched the horizon line this
Beneath a Crescent MoonBeneath a crescent moon, we lie,
our fingers linked and holding strong,
and watch the clouds move through the sky.
I hope this is where we belong.
Our fingers linked and holding strong,
a shadow falls on our embrace.
I hope this is where we belong,
two lost souls in the same dark place.
A shadow falls on our embrace;
fearing the dark, I start to sigh.
Two lost souls in the same dark place
beneath a crescent moon, we lie.
Fearing the dark, I start to sigh,
grasping your hand between my own.
Beneath a crescent moon, we lie,
so why do I feel so alone?
Grasping your hand between my own,
your heart is strong within your chest.
So why do I feel so alone?
I wonder: is this for the best?
Your heart is strong within your chest
somewhere beneath this cloudless sky.
I wonder: is this for the best?
Beneath a crescent moon, I cry.