|DDs that I have had the pleasure of featuring as a Community Volunteer.|
Twenty Ten FourWe never notice.Twenty Ten Four by Beccalicious
Our alarm doesn't ring, it sings
Pharell beating our mornings
'til we remove from our snooze. We
forgot the tink-tinker or
and emerge the same.
The same commute to work:
Heads sunk, tired eyes drunk by
thumb movements. Our ears dumb
locked into a Will-I-Am trance. Not
a glance of the changing scenes;
the only birds we see are angry.
The same office echoes with
of emails blaming others and smack-talking.
instead of actual talking. We fall for
the hype of Skype and only Siri’s
voice drones narrow answers
we accept as truth.
The same playground, huddled corners;
Children pick a blackberry instead of
picking blackberries, for their late-night
Facebook fights. Words will always hurt see:
no kids to hit with sticks and stones. Unless
there’s an app for it.
What do we do when stop?
Orwell you're too late
took thirty years to demonstrate your
doublethink and we all cling to
The Beard of intrigueHis beard was fascinating.The Beard of intrigue by Beccalicious
It was a loom, woven with intricate detail and so long it would put any wizard to shame. Each pattern in the coarse mound of hair seemed to share a secret. Perhaps they were memories- I’d heard others collect memories in such ways- etchings on their bodies, collecting objects and even journal writing. Maybe this man was his own journal.
The rest of him seemed positively ordinary. He rested in his chair in a blue business suit- albeit a little outdated for fashion, but suited the character I had begun to form in my head for him. His sorrowful eyes narrowed on a frustrated brow of greying features, illuminating a sense of tiredness. Perhaps the beard in all its might was weighting down. His skin was as rough as sandpaper, blotches and scars etching his hands and face with no revelation to the puzzle of his beard.
I wanted to move closer, debating whether it was rude to ask. The very notion excited me as I built up theories as to why his beard had the
Shopping and Wizards.A thousand bagsShopping and Wizards. by Beccalicious
shuffle down the high street between
clasped hands, scrunched with new purchase.
They’re buggy-dodging the determined mothers,
the rushed businessmen-- a pinball
machine shopping centre.
A green-robed man, tall with wand and hood
must be a wizard. He’s happily
procuring sushi and sparkling water
whilst his companion;
short with her piercings and jeans treats him
as if he wore the same.
Down the high street,
two track-suited parents
zoom past on their children’s scooters—
half-smoked fags between fingers yell
how fucking amazing this is.
spotted teen raps
his love for Jesus on a muffled
He raps for the Father,
He raps for the Son
and Holy Spirit.
He raps for peace, for hope, for you.
In a corner,
Brown eyes, hefty tears,
a snot-ridden face--
four years old.
A train runs through the mall toot-tooting
as grumpy shoppers move out of the way.
Napo 8- SusanWhy did you lock her out of heavenNapo 8- Susan by Beccalicious
and throw the key
into the lions land?
A beautiful girl enjoying
a new fantasy to live.
She'd stopped believing, but
faith stays in a heart longer
than a head.
"She wasted all her school time wanting to be the age she is now,
and she'll waste all the rest of her life trying to stay that age"
A Wish for a Loved OneBy Celtic, Crystal, Cross and HeartA Wish for a Loved One by LorrieWhittington
Tis many pieces that make a part
A rich and wondrous tale to tell
So dropped a penny in the well
Still looking for a spinning web
I'll leap for freedom from the edge
To Tethys sea I'll take my own
My faith, my sword and sacred stone
And which when lifted will shake the ire
Of all who share the unholy fire
To reason thus I'll stake my life
And tis for you I'll pay the price...
in praise of scavengersOh, those crows,in praise of scavengers by LancelotPrice
perceptive and wise and with a sense of time and season.
They know how emotional humans get
when Christmas comes.
What suckers they are for feeding the birds,
an act of love when they can give no love to others
The crows settle in apartment block parking lots
the way seagulls gather in shopping strips
next to fast food joints
or hover and flap in masses
on the scrapheaps of garbage scows
sent from the city
with the dregs of living
A Christmas SurpriseA Christmas SurpriseA Christmas Surprise by nngross
A single snowflake fell lazily and lit on my nose; settled in the crook between the tip and the trophy bump I have from when I broke my nose as a child. I crinkled my nose and shook, but stopped as I remembered. Sara says I look like a cute little bunny when I do that, and I turn a severe shade of red every time, so I try to catch myself when I can, keep my cheeks from the rosy blush she loves to laugh about. I shook one more time, sniffed a little, and smiled to myself. I slammed the car door shut and looked down the quaint, snow-covered cul-de-sac. I chuckled and kept smiling; this was the perfect Christmas. I had been abroad all first semester and Sara hadn't expected me back until after New Years, but I decided to surprise her for Christmas and caught an earlier flight. I felt inside the right pocket of my wool coat, comforting myself that it was still there. It had been two years, four months, and eight days since we started dating. Over two years, and we had
She's half a step from me1994-iShe's half a step from me by ReinventReinvigorate
"Call me Harry," she said. "Boys can get away with anything."
I was playing with matches. Letting the flame lick and dance and gutter in the wind. Letting it almost touch the paint on my front door. Daring it to peel away.
The heat from the tiny flame was scratching at the tip of my thumb and I wondered, could I absorb it? If I let it burn a little further down the match, will the fire rush in and fill the dark and cold space that is me?
Love-making over, she rested her head on my shoulder and whispered into my neck. As I was falling asleep she breathed "I will always come back to you."
That was the year the bright blue paint on my front door started to fade. I told Harriett that if my father was still around, he would repaint it. She said that if my mother was still around, she'd tell me to get off my lazy ass and do it myself.
I laughed at that; Ha
As yet, untitledI swept out the corners of my mind todayAs yet, untitled by tinasam
In short shallow strokes
Not knowing if the dust disturbed my life
Or if my life disturbed the dust.
RegularsJon and Carol came in as they doRegulars by crimson-regret
she clutching a bit of cloth to
her face and being unable
to give me an honest look and
Jon being overly enthusiastic about
his coming meal
(I am a goddess because I
bring them food.)
They met each
other outside the bathroom,
gazed across the table with a fifty
year old expression
and the only emotion I have
ever heard in Carol's
ancient, cracking voice
is when she calls him baby
Repeatedly I wonder, if or when
I give up my mind
to age and black eyes,
will we do this? Drink tea
with too much sugar
and have a waitress that will
be overly concerned if we
don't show our wrinkled mugs?
I prepared bags of fruit for
smoothies and watched her
spill beans and rice all
over the checkered floor-
he told her to tell us
about the mess that was made
in a vaguely apologetic
tone. She instead
asked for more vegetables
and said the
fucked it all up.
Jon told me
I'm his favorite because
I smile like a porn star or
born star- his uncertainty
The HeistShelley lined up the shot. She regulated her breathing and made sure her footing was solid. She ignored the sounds and other distractions around her. It was just her and her lucky 5-iron.The Heist by Faraleigh
She pictured the shot and took it. The ankle-biter was torn free of Hugo's pant leg and flew squealing in fury through the air. Even though it was dark, Shelley shaded her eyes and squinted, watching until the little beast was gone.
"Jesus Christ, Shelley!" Hugo screamed. "Did you have to take that long?" He was already crouched down and inspecting his leg for damage.
"Yes," Shelley said simply. She twirled her 5-iron and propped it casually on her shoulder. "You just can't take a shot that isn't right."
Hugo tried tucking his pants into his boots for the umpteenth time but they were too shredded to stay. "I fucking hate those things," he muttered.
"It's a good thing you got me and Daisy, then." Shelley grinned.
Hugo glowered at her and stood back up. They'd argued more than once over why they were to
|DDs that I have had the pleasure of featuring as a Community Volunteer.|
eclipse.my eyes well-up constellations for you,
they shine bright. though my tears aren't precious anymore,
far too common for the tormenting night.
whoever told you about those squinting stars?
they strain to see those in this world;
gifted yet challenged by the sun and the moon.
and if all of earth's paradoxes were to stand up like soldiers,
we would be out of place.
try not to cry about such trivial matters
and live life as if we will not die.
and if such aspects are set in stone,
why does our molten flow so smoothly as
we seep out venus' volcano of infidelity and trust?
and they tell us that lust leads to consequences.
our brightness attracts those moths who perish in our heat.
we give a warm welcome to everything that we
untitledThat guy thinks he's heartless;
I watch him as he buys coffee
and gives it to everybody he passes
on the street who looks sad, and
his lips curl into a smile because
he made a joke that gave someone a laugh.
He holds his mother's hand on top
of hospital sheets, pressing the button
to pump morphine into her system
before he signals a nurse. Tears cascade
down his face when he watches
his mother take her last breath.
And his lips curl into a sneer as he walks
past a cloud of lung choking smoke,
thinking of the fume filled air
his mother suffocated herself in.
He thinks he's heartless, but
his heart is bigger than anyone's.
| Or just confused?|
If you are new to the Literature community or don't know where to start to get involved, then adding CRLiterature to your watch is a good start! The group is the central cub for the literature community relations team, and we encourage community interaction!
CRLiterature chat room
Lit Community Volunteers
These sexy people are so full of awesome you won't know where to go first!
The Idiot of the Golden Mountain“So let me get this straight; after leaving you with your parents, you made your way back to the Golden Mountain to reclaim our kingdom. But first you got a sword that would cut off everyone’s head but yours; a cloak that made you invisible; and a pair of boots that would transport you anywhere. Is this correct so far?” The judge looked down at the man before him. He was chained to the floor beneath his chair. Next to him was his “wife”, Queen Lieselotte, crying her eyes out over the corpse of their headless child.RevRun14
“That is correct.” More tears from the Queen as the man remained as stone cold as possible. The judge had the right mind to hang him right there, but he had to make sure. He motioned the grand cleric to bring forth the three items to the man.
“Are these three items the ones that match with the statement that I have made?” The man didn’t even look at them.
“That is them.”
“And it is with these three
Old Mother RinkrankThere once was a Queen in our landprettyflour
whose Prince’s love was in high demand.
Her Majesty built a grand mountain of glass
that suitors had to climb and not fall on their ass.
The Prince had a crush who was up to the challenge.
He held onto her hand and hoped for safe passage.
The mountain opened up, darkening the mood.
Swallowing the Prince, who knew that he was screwed.
He fell into a cave, deep and dark below the earth
and cried for his lost love, voice absent of mirth.
The Queen was aghast, the girl was in tears,
the other suitors drowned their sorrows in tankards full of beer.
The Prince was not alone, there was a woman living down below.
She was older than his mother and didn’t care for his cries of woe.
Her name was Mother Rinkrank and she offered him a deal.
He would be her slave or face the Catherine wheel.
So the Prince was held captive, cooking meals and doing chores
finding Old Mother Rinkrank was truly quite a bore.
For years the boy ser
16.A wealthy woman, barren and desperate for a child, offered a poor widow a hefty sum for her newborn son. The widow refused. Angry, the wealthy woman assaulted the widow, killing her accidentally. She took the infant and raised him as her own. Years later, the child contracted a severe disease, difficult to cure, although stem cells of a family member greatly increased the chance of survival. Asked to donate, the woman confessed her crime. Six months later, the boy was dead, and the woman lived out her life in prison, mourning his death and lamenting what she had done.somethingzenzen
The White Snake (One Good Deed)To her people, the queen was a prophet. To her enemies, she was a witch. She smiled across the table at the visiting dignitaries, all of whom shifted in their seats, unwilling to meet her gaze.C-A-Harland
“As I was saying,” one of the lords addressed his dinner plate. “Our carriages were molested during our journey, and our valuables taken. If her majesty could offer a donation, it would be immensely appreciated.”
The queen smiled, popping a glazed cherry into her mouth. “The only molesting of your carriages is that they must carry a liar. You lost your riches in the gambling houses long before coming here.”
The man blushed, sinking down in his chair. His wife turned to him with a stony expression. The queen tittered and turned her attention to the next visitor, who quailed under her gaze.
A young servant girl, whose name was Blanche, observed all this from the corner of the room, as she did every night. Once the queen and her guests were finished with their me
The Vixen And Her CousinOnce upon a time not too long ago, a baby girl was born. She was the daughter of a criminal and greedy man, but he loved his child like any good man would. To celebrate the birth of his daughter, he invited his whole family and all living relatives he knew. Among the guest was also a well-known vixen. His wife was worried about inviting her, but the man brushed it off.Diluculi
"Don't worry, my dear", so he spoke. "She is part of the family and despite her reputation, she is smart and has a great way of dealing with people. I am sure she could be a good teacher for our girl later on."
Speaking such and similar words, he dispelled his wife's doubts and the invitations were sent out. During the celebration, the vixen approached the proud parents and said:
"I humbly thank you for the invite, dear cousin. I wish your daughter to grow up in happiness and will everything I can to ensure she will have a good live."
Upon hearing these kind words, the man turned to his wife and smiled.
"Do you hear this
Love dA Lit: Issue 191Welcome to the one-hundred ninety-first issue of Love dA Lit! Every Sunday this article will aim to promote volunteer opportunities, various resources, prompts, challenges, and workshops, as well as highlighting various contests. This is by no means a complete list of all the literature going-ons, merely a tool to help you get involved and stay informed.IrrevocableFate
LITplease's Community Portal
A Smattering of Lit News
LIT me explain u a thing Jan - June 2014
Literature Links | Workshops, Prompts and Challenges
PinkyMcCoversong - Seniors Takeover - Day 1THE WHAT:fourteenthstar
Every month, the team at CRLiterature hosts a book club! We began in June with THE HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY by Douglas Adams and are wrapping up the year with THE WILD IRIS, a poetry collection by Louise Glück. (And, yes, you totally have time to catch up this month -- this book is short!) Each month you'll have a new book and a new host from CRLiterature. As you can see from the above selections, we do our very best to read widely. We've read Stephen King, Cornelia Funke, H.P. Lovecraft and Helen Fielding this year! We're excited for reading MORE books with even MORE of you in 2015!
What we're reading right now with host HtBlack!
CRLiterature is the hub for all things lit community on dA. And we love helping the community with their writing, at all stages. But the number one thing th
CRLiterature BOOK CLUB SchedulePlanning ahead when it comes to getting your read on? So are we! Here's the official schedule for the CRLiterature Book Club.DrippingWords
Not sure what to expect from Book Club? Check out our Book Club Facts.
The Wild Iris by Louise Glück
Host: HtBlackMid Month Discussion: December 16th
End of Month Journal: December 31st
Dawn by Octavia E. Butle
Literature News Stay up-to-date on the literature community.IrrevocableFate
[Last updated: December 14th]
This is theWrittenRevolution's blog for literature community news promotion. I'll post highlights from my 'Love dA Lit' news series, the DDs for that week, as well as listing some updates from our affiliates! This journal will be updated once a week, on Sunday, along with my news article. Please feel free to comment or send me (IrrevocableFate) a note with any comments, questions, or suggestions! I am always happy to include literature relevant things[or things from our affiliates I might have missed]!
Love dA Lit: Issue 191
Literature Community Relations
:iconGrimFace242: GrimFace242 - GrimFace242's DD Suggestion Guidelines
:iconShadowedAcolyte: ShadowedAcolyte - Sh
Love dA Lit: Issue 190Welcome to the one-hundred ninetieth issue of Love dA Lit! Every Sunday this article will aim to promote volunteer opportunities, various resources, prompts, challenges, and workshops, as well as highlighting various contests. This is by no means a complete list of all the literature going-ons, merely a tool to help you get involved and stay informed.IrrevocableFate
Note: Oops, I know today is Monday, but I was so tired last night that I didn't get to finish post the article and since it's the 190th issue I was like "MUST POST".
LITplease's Community Portal
A Smattering of Lit News
LIT me explain u a thing Jan - June 2014
The Mentorship Project Is Back!And let me tell you, it's never been this awesome!HtBlack
Please spread the word about this project by faving and sharing this blog.
Our Anniversary Gift, To You
Today marks theWrittenRevolution's fifth anniversary, and we can finally re-start a project we were very fond of: and in the best tWR fashion, we bring it back to you packed with innovation!
What is the Mentorship Project?
It's a learning system for our members, that works through a series of mentees (aka the deviants who want to learn, or rather, "be taught" new things) and mentors (the more experienced deviants who feel confident enough to teach - and maybe learn something new also ), that we help form pairs to follow the Project.
What does the project consist of?
Our admin group has been raiding deviantArt! With more than a hundred articles from the most devious minds of the Lit community, we will sup
I am a 29 year-old mother of one who has been writing since around 9 years old. I have a keen interest in scriptwriting, and write plays for commission for local schools and theatre groups. I have a BA in creative writing and theatre studies and currently studying for a Postgraduate certificate in Business Management. (day job!)|
I love dA because you can see what others on here have to offer. I appreciate any artwork simply because I could never do half of the amazing work I find on here.
As a writer, my main focus is on Scriptwriting and Writing for Performance, most of what I produce doesn’t appear on dA as it is used professionally. I also enjoy writing prose, and poetry and have participated in several “wrimo”s over the past few years.
If you ever want to chat, come find me in #CRLiterature, or any of the chats on the dAmn network. I am also active in the literature forum and don't be afraid send me a note! I am always willing to help answer any questions you may have or say hello.