Daily Lit Recognition for November 6th, 2014
We are proud to feature today's Daily Literature Recognition!
You can show your support by ing this News Article.
Please comment and : fav: the features and congratulate the artists!
Featured by: chromeantennae
170cm, 53kgI look past the mirror
whenever I can, but today
I can't look away
from the person reflected
in the slightly fogged glass
that doesn't always show
the image clearly,
but it's clear enough.
Hair that can't settle
for one colour or another,
shades of blonde
overlapping and blending
like streams of thought that
to each other by thin strings.
Fringe brushed to one side,
a curl in it from where
I always tuck it behind my ear.
Just a little thing,
and I don't know if anyone else
ever notices it.
(clever girl, big brain,
large skull, perhaps?
It's an explanation,
even if it's nonsense),
high cheekbones that line
gaunt cheeks quick to flush –
I'm easily embarrassed
by my own haplessness,
because I know
I'm more capable than that.
But it doesn't bother anyone but me.
but there's a ring of green,
and that's one of the few traits
I get from my mother.
I'm like Harry Potter that way –
I look like my father,
but I've got my mothe
This poem is wonderfully honest. There's something so gorgeous about being completely and imperfectly human.
Suggested by: LiliWrites
Featured by lion-essrampant
Tits for a Jog by Braxton-T-Rutledge
Suggester says: "Just read it. You'll love it."
Suggested by: MagicalJoey
Featured by: betwixtthepages
AnhedoniaThe four hundred glass bowls designed to function primarily as salad bowls; to be taken out once a year at a dinner with your boss, shudder in back. Another five hundred ornamental wine glasses all stacked neatly on top of each other between the soft downy padding of plastic peanuts and bubble wrap tinkle as their “hand crafted” rims rub against each other.
In tune to the massive orgy of reverberating IKEA designs Seth steers the truck around potholes in the highway. His headlights cast a pale glow on a few feet of the road in front of him, and the silver dollar flakes falling fast from the sky.
“Shit,” he says, more to himself than to her- the woman in his front seat.
There being no need to further address the situation, she simply crosses her stockings and taps her feet against the candy bar wrappers adorning the floor. Her mouth pouts in the direction of his wind-shield. He knows her question before she begins to say it. “How far is it from Regina
The memories that crop up during stressful times can tell you a lot about yourself, if you care to listen.
Featured by doodlerTM
Mercury TwilightThe table’s chrome reflected the man’s somber expression. He sighed at the plate and the paltry steak cast next to a pitiful mound of mashed potatoes. He could feel the thin frame of the metal chair pushing into his robust figure. His large hands sat motionless on either side of the plate.
Across the table sits a wiry man who's face seems stretched with a mop of stringy black hair hanging down to his thin eyebrows. The wiry man’s eyes darted around the room, from his equally small portion of food, to the plane of glass along the opposite wall revealing a purple sky stretching far into horizon.
“Ted, you think they’ll find us?” The robust man looked up from his plate.
“Cal, we just need to wait.”
“Easy for you to say big boy, you’ve got muscle to burn. I’m practically wasting away here.” Ted slid his plate across the table.
“Take it then.”
“Don’t you see what I’m getting at?
An on-point prose piece about friendship and giving up.
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: chromeantennae
Skin by SimplySilent