Since I did not get any feedback (who am I kidding - they had only a few hours to do so) I will continue the features.
First of all, if you are looking for critiques or feedback on literature - you can find so in my group
TheCritiquables and
's group
LitCritiques Both are excellent groups and while we are slightly short on critics, we do ensure that works get feedback!
My plans are to make my group a supergroup and so any points donated for that purpose will be very appreciated! You can send points to me or
who is also handling the group with me. Tell him the donation is for the group otherwise it will be lost in oblivion.
One question about the features - should I include the deviants name or should I let it be? Do answer this
From Impressive Literature
There is much about this work that is beautiful. A simple yet different execution for people who read works with attention. Concise and well executed.
WaitingThere he sits again, right at the door,
So he won't miss her when she comes.
Watching with those hopeful eyes,
Unmoving, undistracted. Waiting.
A crash disturbed the silence,
The noise echoing through dark streets,
And blood painting the concrete roads,
As the fragile body hit the ground.
His little paws, they stand unmoving,
His lively body sitting still,
Only his nose twitching, once in a while,
Hoping to catch the familiar scent.
The piercing wail of sirens followed,
Announcing the disaster
To the crowd that gathered at the scene,
As helpers lift her in the car.
For weeks he's been coming,
Every afternoon he sits to wait,
Hoping for her to return,
Only to be disappointed.
"Will she make it, doctor? Will she survive?"
He shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders.
"Her wounds are deep, her chances low,
But we will do our best to save her."
And though, for all that time, she hasn't come,
He doesn't seem to mind,
Returning yet another day,
Watching, listening. Waitin
A rather alluring work that seems to have a foreboding tone in the start but works its way to leave the reader satisfied. The title is simple yet allows a lot for the imagination!
Please, I'm SorryI pulled away,
I pushed today,
Please understand,
This was not planned,
Look into my eyes,
Please realize,
The pain's too much to bear,
If you choose not to care,
I did not mean to,
Make you go through,
All of this,
Just for us to split,
Can't you see?
Just listen to me,
Or we will never have,
what was meant to really last.
This author made a debut in the previous journal as well. It is not a technically amazing work. This is basically being honest in a concise manner. Not prose, but not such winded poetry that it makes made up.
A Not So Funeral DirgeDrops of diamonds flow,
falling from faces full of
dips and curves—crags of
dark skin.
The song dripped from faltering lips—
her voice failing, sobs
wracking her frame.
A man's voice filled her space,
deep, rumbling alto carrying
the rhythm; another voice
joins the tune—
resonating, tinged with power
and grief unmatched.
As one…
the entire church joins,
gliding over the surface of a cream
coffin—accentuated with golden brush.
"His e-y-e is on the spa-rr-ow."
This work by my very dear friend is a fine expression regarding their attendance at a funeral. Very well written in my view.
Distant loveMistakes that led me here
Decisions that took me away
Promises that never been kept
Devotions that never been said
It got me suppressed
I should've guessed
I never suggest
But nevertheless
I continue this quest
I keep searching for you
My only one truth
In the rays of the sun
In the shadows of the night
You ignite the light
Light that leads me back to you
Light that's breaking through
In time following the sign
Somehow I manage to arrive
I come undone
To the rising sun
To you my love
I brought my soul
I kiss your tears
I take your fears
I get through years
Just to let you see
How distance affected me
It changed me in so many ways
I'm no longer that one
The one you loved
The old me is gone
Nothing lasts too long
But love… still here
Do you hear? Can you hear me?
Love saved me
Through the distance cause I believed
Another Deviant featured before as well. I don't mind featuring again though - just featuring two works of the same deviant seems to be inappropriate. This is a work with a unique rhyming scheme. Enjoy!
From Exceptional Literature
Dead Bodies Don't Cryi.
You are born with twisted feet
and a pockmark on your chest.
Your poor mother is drenched in sweat,
straining to breathe,
thanking God that it's over.
She cradles you in her arms
and kisses your forehead with curved lips.
Your father reaches out to hold you
but has to pause because
your mother will not release you yet.
The family pays a visit,
hovering in awe, praising, laughing.
You look around for someone to blame.
ii.
When you learn to write
you use all the wrong letters
because you feel sorry for the ones
that get left out, like X and Z.
And you wear mismatched clothes
because you don't like the idea that
only certain colors "go together."
The first time you are punched
in the face it is by a girl with pigtails and braces.
You're sitting on a swing,
digging your toes into the dirt,
when she approaches
and says she thinks you're weird.
You tell her she's even weirder, and her fist
goes sailing into your jaw.
You're red and sore for two days.
You meet your first crush
on bleachers
When I say exceptional work - I mean exceptional work. This is a work that got a DLD, DD and still I will feature it (up to you if you want to read or not) because I love it. It is long, YES. It is not short. But with this deviant's capabilities, it is a sensational read. I mean look at the title 
Reality cannot be her homeWhat was known was that she had no child
No, not her own…any longer…
No home, no husband…
No baby…in her arms
Callous waves threw chills as careless spray
Caressing her with sorrow
And the rocks, the sand, the unfeeling
Beneath a dreary, darkening sky
Did not care, caught up in their own misery
Misery...a feeling that engulfed all, a drowning wave
Heaven and Earth and Hell beneath 10,000 leagues of water
The woman with empty arms - chilled arms, wet feet
Shivering and alone and wandering
No aid was coming
No warm hands would give her back her child
Her body fell where it willed when she was tired
And it curled there, in the sand between salted stones
A body willing to sleep to escape her nightmares...
Oh- those which were being realized!
"Someone took my baby," the shudder of a heaving sob
It took pity from the other homeless who found her, cold in the night
They took her with them, threatened to kill the thief
But no, no that would not do, it could not be done
The
Reality cannot be her home
again, the title grabbed me - not my fault. This is another amazing work, beautifully crafted and unknown to most audience. I am trying not to give spoilers but this is free verse and not so long for people who prefer short works.
A Melting Rose on Solid IceWhy do the roses
Melt against my skin?
But the ice in my eyes
Remains frozen in place
Despite the heat
Despite fire
The ice holds strong
Like a brick wall
I wish I could let go
Set the flood waters free
Drown myself in them
Let their cold consume me
Roses bloom on my arm
Killing butterflies
They melt so easily
Into place
But the ice is unmoving
It holds still in my eyes
Refusing to show the color
Behind it
No more roses bloom
But they still grew easier
Than melting the ice
That survives still
In my eyes
Another amazing title and another amazing poem by a person I really like. She is compassionate and her poems (those I have read) are honest and heartfelt.
Cleansing The Soul - CollabThe sky is clear,
The moon shining down...
It's a beautiful night here.
It'd be better if I had someone to share it with, though...
It was raining here...
Through every life,
A little rain must fall.
And dampen the earth we walk on,
The thing we stand on that helps us stand tall.
Until that walking flame comes to light our way and dry the ground...
And help us on our way
Making sure we stand tall and warm
Through this hellish path we walk.
Keeping us safe from the evils that be,
And the shadows that lurk in the darkness,
But our torch,
Burning bright,
Will illuminate the darkness
Pierce it like a knife,
And show us the evils and our enemies.
So we may learn there ways,
And be ready for battle.
Arm ourselves,
And hold our stance,
Against those that wish to destroy us.
And employ our tactics,
So that we may one day carve the path to redemption...
And rid our souls of darkness,
Clea
A poem written by mistake. Where have I heard it before
a collaboration and a great one at that.
ObsessionIt takes 14 minutes and twelve seconds to walk to your home from mine every day. Your mother never fails to smile at me when she opens the door. I never fail to notice that it doesn't reach her eyes anymore.
You leave your door open an exact two point three centimeters. I don't think you do it on purpose. There is something wrong with the wood that has left it that way. I pause one foot outside the door and listen to you cough, trying to determine how sick you feel today. I hate that every time I think you are particularly ill, I am always right.
Six months, seventeen days and fourteen hours. That is how long its been since the doctors told us you had an illness. I sat there with your parents, listening to a man who said words like 'terminal' and 'leukemia', and counted the number of times he said 'patient' as if it were your name (Seventeen).
The blood bank says one unit is four hundred and fifty milliliters and I watch as they put the needle into my ar
Eh... this has a DD and is probably one of the most well known literary pieces on DeviantART...
but then again. For those who haven't had the pleasure of reading this... Here you have Obsession by untamedunwanted.
Photography
Well this is more like a magical shot and honestly there is little else that I can say about this!
A rather simple shot but I personally like it a lot. Black and white and glitter!
Visual Art
Here is a Deviant I would feature every time I could (other than the fact she might not really like me doing so) because I just love her art. Enough said
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A very vivid display of colors. Beautiful in its execution and can invoke various emotions within.
Well here my feature ends. Any advice is always welcome! If you feel a work worth featuring (other than literature since I go through a lot myself) you can tell me!
I put a lot of effort into my features - not just posting deviations - I select them and post them so it would mean a lot to me if you give these authors some proper attention.
Note: I am starting photography and visual art features as well although the pieces will be less of course. Since I just started them, I might not be able to follow a timeline of sorts. Finally - if you think that the feature should remain just literature, then tell me. After all I am mainly a literature Deviant.
Link to last feature:
Feature #11
