dALinkSystem is a group dedicated towards increasing artists exposure by helping others and themselves through a simple and effective "Linking" system: Link another artist's submission in your artist's comment box. It helps everyone's exposure and finds undiscovered art.
#dALinkSystem's Literature Folder
LavenderAn enchanting, living violet blossom
refreshes my scattered mind from my hardship
with its nostalgic, unforgettable fragrant.
The Bright Side of DyslexiaI was born with auditory dyslexia.
I once heard of someone who wrote, directed, and coastguard in their own movie.
I knew what the right word was, but it still got me thinking:
About the invigorating music of waves crashing against my vessel,
The challenge of serving to the best of my skills,
The pride of keeping the shores of my homeland safe.
That was how I found my career,
And it's been just as rewarding as I had hoped.
An episode of CSI mentioned literature marks on the vic's neck,
Which inspired a fulfilling side project of poetry.
In a later CSI, taunts were exchanged:
"I'm the king of the jingle here! You don't stand a chants!"
"That's what you think! This isn't my first radio!"
(It wasn't a very well-written episode.)
Anyway, with that I tried adding tunes to my rhymes.
The result was better than I expected;
A local morning show even played one of my works on the radio!
My girlfriend told me she needed a shoulder to crayon.
This inspired me to
I Am Not UglyWeek 1
"Why don't you like your body?" Kim asked. Noticing my eyes focused on her pen, she laid it and the yellow legal pad on the table between us. I didn't bother to look at the scribbles there. I knew what they would say.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Low self-esteem. Victim of sexual abuse. Negative self-image. Possibly related to attacker's verbal abuse.
"Because I'm ugly." My fingers found a strand of lanky blond hair and started to twist. Around and around, tighter and tighter. Eventually, strands were pulled from my scalp, but I didn't notice. Pain had stopped existing.
"Why do you think that?" Kim shifted in her chair, recrossing her legs and angling her head to get a better look at my down-turned face. I don't know what she thought she'd find there.
"Because it is true."
"Who told you that?
DrownedWaters deep and dark
My tender heart is broken
Death, take me away
FearLife is fear, and fear unfolds,
Comes storming in your way.
The Great Destroyer; holds you back,
Chuckles at your sorrow.
If you could only hold a while,
Hang on 'till tomorrow.
Tomorrow never comes, and Fear is fine.
It knows your ins and outs.
Knows you'll never hang your fears,
Knows you'll always have doubts.
Cold and strong; as steel and ice,
Cripples and devastates,
And is never very nice.
But cautionary and sane?
Enemy or friend?
Truth is never plain.
Protects you from yourself,
And all your natural folly.
Little PrinceWait for a time, exactly under the star. Then, if a little man appears who laughs, who has golden hair and who refuses to answer questions, you will know who he is. If this should happen, please comfort me. Send me word that he has come back.
I met a boy. He wanted a sheep.
He gave me the gift of laughing stars.
I promised him I will not weep:
that secret will stay forever ours...
I met a boy. He owned a rose.
She's on his planet - very far.
I watch it every night - he knows...
And so, if you by chance are close
to the place where his footprints are -
Wait for a time, exactly under the star.
Then, if a little man appears who laughs,
who has golden hair
and who refuses to answer questions,
you will know who he is.
Then he will teach you how to see -
with your heart and not with you eyes,
how moody some flowers can be,
and how you should establish ties.
So prepare to be a little tamed,
just like it happened once to me.
And if you cry - he can't be blamed:
that's what comes
To Us- Synesthesiai.
excites a burst
of color; an
tastes of mangoes;
caressing my senses.
your flavor is
all become a
"T" is crabby
and "I" worries.
"J" is strong
each number becomes
its own plane
all the numbers
becoming an army
of curvy rows,
a perfect pattern.
each and every one
a different hue,
a different shade,
MoyanSoftness, hidden behind tiger and sword.
Trippin'"If only there's a pill for heartaches."
"Oh, but there is. It's called acid, sweetheart."
Acid. It warms my tongue and incinerates all rational thought. I find myself gazing at the ceiling, transfixed by the colors dancing across my eyes. Plumes of purple smoke swirl and mix with streams of green and yellow. Time ceases to exist; one moment blends into the other in an incoherent mess. And then I'm melting - I can see my own veins seep through my skin and I feel myself sinking. Panic and fear begins to take control, but then I realize something. Isn't this what I wanted all along? To disappear and cease to exist? Of course, the feeling of dissipating is an illusion, but an illusion is good enough for me. After all, that's what I've been faced with all my life. Illusions. Smoke and mirrors.
So I immerse myself in this feeling and watch in awe as my flesh twists and bends and finally evaporate into bright pink smoke. There is no pain, just a strange giddiness that makes me laugh. I s
The final trip...I lay there, just lying there on the floor shaking. How many had I taken? Seven, eight, ten of those pills? I mightve even have taken the rest of the bottle. I opened my eyes enough to peer out. Whatever I looked I saw six of as it spun. I rolled onto my back not so gracefully.
As I stared at the ceiling, the fan spinning in circles, seem to hypnotize me. The room began to spin as if it were in a blender. Windows, walls, and the floor melded together. The dull colors of my studio apartment suddenly burst with color. Pinks and oranges sizzled while blues and teals crashed like waves. It seemed like I was seeing nothing but a giant lollipop that toddlers drool over in the candy shops.
A smile spread across my face as my crazy ride continued. A purple melody morphed into a dragon and began to soar across the scene. It danced in and out of the columns of color. It screeched but instead of fire over taking him it was a wave. It shimmered with yellows and gold with little flecks of sca
I will be accepting suggestions for pieces to feature, but they must link to someone else's work as per dALinkSystem's submission guidelines. It does not have to link to another literature deviation, they do not have to be a member of the group, nor does the piece have to be submitted to the group. ♥
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