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About Literature / Hobbyist Member ElijahMale/Canada Groups :icongrammarnazicritiques: GrammarNaziCritiques
Truth can be harsher in a Crit
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Random Favourites

You all probably thought I forgot about you, and I guess I can't really blame you for that.  But here we go, because you guys are all my favourites.

I'll start with MatieuCanadaWilliams, a fantastic writer whose talent I'm honestly kind of jealous of.  He mixes effective and interesting imagery with emotional narratives that feel true-to-life (maybe not mine, since I'm not that interesting, but you know what I mean).  On top of that, he has some interesting music tastes, and showed me some cool music on my last journal, which'll be at the bottom of this journal.  Anyway, here are the five pieces he chose for me to feature:

loners set their own paceshe fell in love with you, horizon chaser boy
got his toes caught right on the ledges carved in,
tripped on the scars scoured across your all,
hit face-first into the falling ash rubbed into the skin
beneath your eyes so hard it'll never wash out of those
monochrome-overlain quick sand pits that gape
like beckoning cemetery plots.
you drowned him, nebula reaching bloke, runaway,
the undertow that swirled between the creases
bordering your frown on either side whirl pooling through
his irises, crept up through his veins and entered in
the same way you entered his life - with screeching
brakes and a tumbling
pulled him down into your depths, mysterious nomad,
sucked his fingers in to trace coarse sideburns and
the sharp angles of your visage and the prodding of
your ribs against the inner layers of your flesh tarp.
he fell quick and hard, same way he rolled up your hood,
falling star fellow,
and he outstretched his hands when you
wanted him to but never asked
because he trip
there's always been room in the passenger seatrum runner you, always scared
to stop moving for too long
in case the ground beneath you
you drank more scotch than you bought,
hands more sober than your head
steering around tight curves, too practiced
at this to total.
there was nothing you were more
overwhelmed by
than being underwhelmed,
and no matter how hard your brothers
held on after all these years,
they knew you'd leave
whether they let you
or not.
nicotine and booze and
the occasional stop for coffee
fueled your nature,
gasoline fueled your car -
you always were just as addictive
as you were
starving mutt.
romance was avoided and flings were
welcomed in their rarity,
but hardly any exchange for favours.
everyone else was too tied down
in the world,
but you knew you had to see every inch
just to feel like you belonged anywhere.
his heart beat to the rumble of the engine
no matter how quick you cut it,
and you knew,
cross country lover,
that he was just as flightful
as you.
small towns were always suffocating
burnt sienna never went so well with hansathe skies stretched past the horizon line
for his brother -
twins (practically),
and yet few saw violet hues and
a shade not quite the same sunglow,
but a mixed swatch between
maize -
according to wikipedia.
he yearned for the anythings that came with life
outside the invisible walls
of this little town,
a canary outside the coal mine
but still in the cage.
his singing voice never was
a proper tenor.
so adjusted to being transparent as wind but
just as likely to rustle leaves in passing
he could hardly believe you saw him -
even though he'd practically kneed your windshield out.
his glasses were unbent by your hands before he even realised
you'd taken them.

we've found refuge in each otherbitter
rolls off his tongue
in oozing argent,
gaseous tendrils creeping
between his teeth,
curling around his lip
with a fleeting brush
of it's own.
i never had a taste for cigarettes
until i tasted them
nestled in the hollow of his throat.
washes on his tongue,
liquid bistre and
left too long to his damp
kitchen to be so scalding
anymore, undiluted,
because he lacks the motivation
to pretty anything about himself
for anyone.
i used to drown in coffee shaded
café au lait
until i realised i didn't need
so much milk to curb the burn.
lingers around my tongue,
solid, invisible skylines of
words keelhauled over obsidian
vocal cords on their way up,
gravel far too gritty and broken
to keep from eroding from his throat
and building up in his lungs.
i'd always known i'd miss his voice
from the moment i'd heard him speak
until he laughed,
and i was doomed to miss that more.
he always was one to take advantage of fragilitywhite never did quite
suit you, did it?
and yet here we find
your garden choked
with more of it
than green
ironic, i find
that roses so rare
in these rain-loved parts
would choose your walls
to climb
i suppose,
the lilies were just as white
and you tore those down
far quicker
maybe, over vulnerability
thorns are what
i needed to shield
our bonds with
that way
you can never pull me from your stones
without embedding my mark
for good, this time

Next up is PaleAuthor, who is a prolific and talented, if a bit morbid, writer and the type of generous person who, when I asked for three deviations to feature, didn't think to give me any of her own and instead showed me her favourite works by other deviants.  Those'll be underneath her poems.  For now, though, I give you three poems of hers that she showed me once I let her know that she could give me her own stuff too:

Bird in the CageHello, hello
my little bird
How are you today?
I see
I see
Maybe tomorrow
is a better day
Hi, hi
you bird
in the dirty cage
I heard you crying
like a human child
I see...
It was just my
But today
the cage is open
Why aren’t you flying?
What are you so
scared of?
it was just
in my dreams
Oh, oh
my bird
I want to
hurt you
Please, please…
Fly away
The cage is dying,
the rust is growing
on you
In my dreams
I see that bird
crying like a child
in it’s rusty cage
It’s nothing more
but a decaying
of a small girl
I think I have seen
her somewhere
I can’t think well
“Good day”, the bird says
“Hi”, I say
“Is something wrong?”
Are you still there
my little bird?
I know
I’m awake
But I can still see
the bird
sitting in a corner
of my house
“I love you”, it says
I take the bird
take it outside
very far away
and hope it’ll learn
to fly alone
Field of Two Faced ImaginationI stood there where
the whales have wings
and the moon laughed gently
(Giant kids killing
each other
with sharpened forks)
There were so many stories
(so many characters to kill)
to be written
All I really cared about
was there
(like the love of the things I fear)
I felt like (my life is over)
going to swim (and drown)
in the lake of crystals
(with slimy edges which make me bleed)
So come with me
to my wonderful field of (ruined) dreams
help me! I don't want to die!
I promised you...
You won't find anything evil here...
(But I lied...)
A Human's HeartThe heart
it beats
in my chest
Sometimes in the throat
Stab it hard
with a sharp knife of mine
Need to kill it
Before it crawls out
from my mouth
Push, pull it
until it drops back down
falling towards
the stomach
The acid hurts
I can hear it
My heart, it melts
inside my sick stomach
Grows feet and hands
Just to survive for another day
It climbs back to my chest
Sleep my poor heart
Why are you hurting?
Nothing is happening
Stop going up and down
in my body
I need to relax
Stop the beating
with your tiny arms of a
I'd rather live without you

The pieces she originally suggested:

The AuthorWriters paint pictures that painters can't.Infinite Dreams by RHADS The Undying Question
Has life brought out the worst in me
messing with me psychologically
haunting me
tripping me up pathologically
Has sadness become ingrained in me
picking me apart internally
'till I'm a heap of lego bricks
dismantled just for kicks
depression throws a punch in the mix
and I'm left for rubble hard to fix
Why? Why?
The silence is deafening with no reply
I'm so confused
there's a battle tearing at my sanity
logically - I can't afford to lose
inside of me
clawing at the heart of me
assaulting me verbally
hanging on to me
like a leach - parasitically
Why? Why?
Is this happenin'
like a nightmare but it's reality that I'm in
Life is a struggle with which I'm wrestlin'
but why - is the question I'm still left askin'
Why - is the reason why I exist
Why - is the question on everyones lips
where there's one there's a list
the answers will find us
I don't know why - I just know this.

And finally, JakesException.  I could go on about this guy, but I'll just say that he's a very talented writer who's been one of my biggest poetic influences.  Besides that, he's been a great friend, who's stuck with me through thick and thin– even when I probably didn't deserve it.  But that's enough from me, so I'll let his poetry do the rest of the talking:

Seabed.spent a better part of
the eventide with my
head out the window
and our legs knotting
under those pillows a
couple of oceans over.
waves wrap upon the
cotton cover; collapse.
deep, waxing breathing
keeping me within your
abandoned grasp.
we met naked in the
lake; figures eclipsed
with liquid refraction.
the planet flashed into
action. in truth, i first
mistook you for some-
one birthed with flotsam
floods above the navel.
i prefer your pale flat-
chestedness instead,
if we’re being honest.
you cried regarding an
alarming past; i tried to
calm torrents, then led
you to the bedroom. we
swayed in unique ways:
displaced pain; collapsed,
a shipwreck, foaming. my
face in salted air. your
gasps / moans against the
duvet. from water, my
sublime siren. caught.
It Goes.a formal fortune
to tossed cigarette boxes
ash flick kisses
on my stuttering jumper
birdsong flutters from the rain
teens sharing similarities,
tobacco, misdemeanours and
subtleties beneath
why the buses stop so often
how light pollution is a blessing
and how God was
an outdated concept centuries
before we drowned the sea
don’t judge me, driver
deities make mistakes too
the smell excels
flickering my phone screen
between pocket and palm
spotted skin, but a charming
smile behind the hood
well a mask would never last
in England’s weather
now the wireless is down we
don’t spend time together
I’m being opened
bone by fractured thought
often, I wonder whose fault it
is the cliffs sing to me
the siren is long dead,
but rationality is keyless
grey curls twirl
below my fingers like thumb-
tacks in a crucifix cross
we’re pulling up again
though the song is lost
Assist.I died in your arms
last night.
Nobody intended to cry:
Their tears were testaments
already stained like skin-
graph slits on an imperial
axis. Lingering, leaving lines
on a mannequin’s mask.
Like a drama queen; a
supreme scene. I slipped in
with a straight-edge and
begged for your hands to
curve deeper; to search my
stomach for fresh water.
A life-ring: Parachute pulled
over the gullet and – fuck it.
You saw how I stumbled,
mumbled at the candle. Dealt
diamonds and forced your
tips around the handle.
Get a grip. I know you’ll never
forgive my disappearing act.
The sea shrivelled and I was
drowning in your spit. Salt
absorbed the bloodstains,
but the pain is endless.
You saw only a shadow carving
itself clean. That black gleam
shone so bright you swore –
even as the lungs lifted up,
floating from my ribcage –
that it was only starting to hoar.
Shining saviour, this was no dream:
I placed the dagger within your
palm, staggered over and charmed
you into the

As for the songs MatieuCanadaWilliams and PaleAuthor showed me, here you go, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I did.  The second video is fairly bloody, so if you don't like that kind of thing it might not be for you.

Also, it's worth mentioning another writer who's been getting a bit more active on dA again, love-the-name-lily.  She tagged me in an OC questionnaire journal, but I don't really write enough fiction these days to have one, so I figured I'd mention her here anyway so you all can check her and her poetry out.

This turned out to be a fairly long journal if you read the poems or listened to the songs, so thanks for sticking with me, and more importantly, reading all that great poetry!  I hope you're all doing fantastic, and keep up the awesome writing/art! 

And to make this more than just me talking at you, I've got a question for you all that might become relevant in the future:  What factors do you consider when deciding whether or not to join a lit contest?  Are there certain things that make you more or less likely to participate? 

Thanks again for reading!
  • Mood: dA Love
  • Listening to:

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Add a Comment:
DamaiMikaz 1 day ago  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks a lot for adding my work to your collection
HuntingForHappiness 1 day ago  Hobbyist Writer
My pleasure!  It was a really insightful guide.
WhitePlumFragrance 1 day ago  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for faving my haikus mate. :heart:
HuntingForHappiness 1 day ago  Hobbyist Writer
My pleasure!  They're really nice, and I loved reading the French versions too.
WhitePlumFragrance 1 day ago  Hobbyist Writer
That's really nice of you, thanks again. :heart:
Thank you for the favourite! much appreciated :)
HuntingForHappiness 1 day ago  Hobbyist Writer
My pleasure!  I love when you do the more asymmetrical stuff like that, not to mention how complex it is.
I tagged you, but feel free to ignore it love-the-name-lily.deviantart.… ^^
WorldWar-Tori 5 days ago   General Artist
:wave: Hello, I just wanted to stop by and welcome you to devLIT! Please take a minute to stop by and familiarize yourself with our About & FAQ. A few things we have going on right now are our current challenge themed 'great perhaps'. We also have the Critique Corner to help you get feedback on your writing as well as Community News for other lit. related happenings.
If you have any questions please do not hesitate to ask - you can note the group or myself :heart: We look forward to reading your writing!

-TORi [devLIT]
SolidMars Apr 10, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Wave by chil96

thank you kindly for the watch. i hope you enjoy my future work :tighthug:
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