October 2021 Literature DD Round Up by Malintra-Shadowmoon, journal
October 2021 Literature DD Round Up
If you should have missed any literature DDs in the month of October, here is the complete list for the whole month. Enjoy the beautiful writings and maybe you discover some new writers on DA. To suggest a literature DD, you can address to our CVs. You will find their guidelines below: Barosus' DD Suggestion Guidelines Malintra-Shadowmoon's DD Suggestion Guidelines Barosus 's Features: Quotes: 3/10 (Seams Of The Depths by @KalineReine): "A darkly captivating and bejeweled dreamscape" - @Barosus 4/10 (Insignificant Other by @bookcrusher): "This story feels so poignant and relatable. If you have known someone for a long time without really being close, the shared experiences accumulate in a meaningful way." - @DC-26 5/10 (Seasons of the Heart by @KimberlyJolanda): "An exhileratingly romantic moment captured perfectly" - @Barosus 7/10 (Black Dreams (Mares of Night) by @NihilisticDespair): "This speaks of a terrifying force. But through effort, it can be mastered. For it may be
Depending on where you are in the world, it is officially April 1st! Which means...we are officially in NaPoWriMo 2020! Welcome to both newcomers and veterans alike. We are so excited to have everyone here with us this year. Below you will find the prompts for Week 1, as well as other helpful information. So, please ensure to read through everything! Before we get to the prompts, I just wanted to briefly mention a few things! :bulletred: Please familiarize yourself with the group rules that can be found on the group front page! This will prevent any delays in your submissions being accepted. :bulletred: The folder for Week 1 (and week 1 ONLY) is now open. If you have any issues with submitting, please let us know. :bulletred: The content for the first contest for the month will be revealed this week, pending general submission numbers and participation :) Prizes: We're still looking for prize donations for the winner's pool! Anything from points, comments, llamas
Hello, everyone. It's been quite some time since we've spoken. Nearly a whole year, at this point. Obviously, alot has changed since then. I don't think I need to speak on all the chaos that has plagued the world since early 2020, and we are still dealing with it. That, along with the change to Eclipse, has kept me off of dA up until recently. But even with all of that, I've missed the Lit community. By the time I resurfaced from a long hiatus to try to cope with a new world, it was already March lol I then realized National Poetry Writing Month is QUICKLY approaching. At first I wasn't sure if I would revive the group for it's yearly commitment to marathon writing, but then I realized how much I need some normalcy in what are very strange times. I don't know how many people will be interested in joining this year, and I suspect the numbers won't be the same as we are used to. However, I want to continue the tradition of NaPoWriMo being a consistent part of the year (even if it's only
sunlight faded
in an afternoon
we reach with
tender hands
life is wanted
soft-skinned
folded dark in shadowed leaves
another moment
another
taste with our fingers stained
full
summer’s promise
we sneak a few
unmissed berries
you’ve been waiting for me, like a ghost dressed in silver bells and ragged clothes; for everything i remember i have dug a hole. there’s miles left, four rest stops until i’m home, a kettle on and waffle fries at 2am, unconditional with no questions asked. i fall into the warmth of being known, seen and loved, feeling like a child again in the best way i could. every second is a gift i have wrenched from God, and i will not give them back. i am grateful for the face that greets me at the door. i keep my pain in shoeboxes, labelled and alphabetized, but you are safe. we open the boxes, pandora laughing as we do. all my petty hurts seem so small in the daylight; my specially selected soldiers: mother, father, friends, a ghost named hope all help me hold the line at dysphoria’s door, chanting: one more day. just one more.
I've already been to Mars its blue sunrise a fixture in the mind now -- another desert cold, dropped across the feed among nature pics a panoramic, places we might go someday. It's easy to forget where you haven't been when it all rests in a pile, when you've already imagined lightyears between places while losing your gaze to something like the Milky Way, or another galaxy bright as a necklace you once loved but is still yours; when sentiments merge like grains of sand, particle to particle.
Hope's bleary-eyed, bags beneath his eyes like blink-to-burst reservoirs sunset lapse and in the dark we sightlessly converge I forgot I do not own you hallucinations, blown sugar from the nest of my palm, closet skeletons of rattling mandibles, silhouettes of teeth knocking together like hypothermic conversation, secrets do not sound like windchimes secrets do not sound like windchimes
cut your arm like the velveteen slacks you make out of scratch. with a name dropping - heart stopping - rat-a-tat-tat on the window that fogged from the snow + left to his own devices - he never knows where to go but he wants to make love in the hubbub of burning his thumb on the family stove. close the window you scoundrel its getting cold boys like boys who pierce their lips + vape inside a park - shut your mouth its getting dark. + twist his arm like the wishy washy wishbone straight from the bird with a pitter-pat-pat from the feet of the dog on the floor where the storm can be heard but - the boy likes the boy like the dog likes the ball + he'd rather hold hands than do nothing at all but - he wants to makeout +
we named you Soren and let your golden curls grow long let you toddle in the orchard gumming fruit child i wish i knew your favorite color or where your plum tree would have grown wish i could have drunk the honeyed weeks you would have bought us from the grim grief i see that cheshire grin worn soft on a new face hear little feet that would have run into the curtains if i’d let them kick around inside my ribs if i hadn’t swallowed hope of better days of change if hadn’t choked down bitter truths and bled