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February 15, 2013
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Year II - Issue XXXIV
Volume LXXXVI
Friday Night Features is a weekly feature designed to showcase
a cross section of the most striking, entertaining and powerful
literature, photography and artwork on deviantART.
Show your support by faving this article and checking out
these amazing pieces. You're bound to find something
that speaks to you, sticks with you and pulls you in.



CelestesYour breath sweeps light into dark corners
an ocean moving beneath your lips
in soft waves.
Light refracts into hollow depths
a lullaby speaking grief into deep blues
and long boats whispers sighs of love
against the hull of you
the streets step lies over our tongues
repeating as each sole meets asphalt
and treads shadow into black
each word falls over the page
like teeth
or the gentled sounds of love
echoing in a silent grenade
the soft soliloquy of us
shapes under a new world
it murmurs into space
and speaks satellites
into black holes
putrefactionI am living for
the second time,
and it is harder than
the first.
I feel spoilt
as an apple
dappled with bruises
and rot;
sodden with small
stains
and discarded skin.
there,
the wine-coloured oval
that your thumb fits into
just exactly—
the rest of your fingers
left their blunders
on the other side.
it is nothing compared to
what I have done to myself.

The Plea of EveLet me lay beside you, my love,
Become bone of your bone,
And flesh of your flesh.
Let me rest by your side
Inbetween your ribs,
Where I guard each breath,
And sync them with my own.
Let me merge into you,
And we shall be one flesh,
As before one formed two,
Then together fade to dust.
:thumb354185846: Young LoversYoung lovers brush lips
and speak no words of love
tongues wet with hunger
taste of candied cigarettes
lukewarm beer
their names were whispered, husky
why, she thought, we will forget
he kissed her neck
drunk lips fumbling on the skin
lost in a wanting haze
their hands find rest on hips
and wake the longing need
their arms entwined, braided legs
fingers caught in tangled hair
desperate, gasping, please
young lovers brush bodies
and speak in stilted breath

AceThe reason I like to disappoint you is
this thing I feel in here (here, you can feel it on my neck)
that is way beyond need or thirst
love or admiration
You probably have no idea I'm bluffing when I pretend
You're just another day gone by
The reason I like to disappoint you
is that today I bet some parts of my skin
on your persona (you 've become more of an idea
than a person in my mind)
The reason I like to disappoint you
is that I'm so much in love with you
I didn't tell you (when you said I'd love Sarah Kane)
that the only way I could love her poetry
would be if you failed me.
frankensonnetwe do not live in a world where
lips are as soft as rose petals
and the ice in the freezer is frozen solid
we do not live in a world where
people are calm and fender benders are okay because
shit happens
we do not live in a place where
cars stop for stop signs and red lights and pedestrians
or where people smile and wave at total strangers
we do not live in a world where
i can call you and tell you i love you just because i do
and it won’t be strange
we most certainly do not live in a world where
i can hold your soft fingers, or caress your skin with my fingertips
where i can run my hands through the knots in your hair
or the knots in your skin,
                         your fiber,
                                    your soul.
we live in a world where
lips are as soft as the cracks in the sidewalk or the meth scars on your for
if you burn mesee, some people
on the inside, are lined
with shelves packed with little glass jars.
people
are pockets of stars.
Supernova Stars in the heartwood box
splinter fragile edges like the chipped rim of a plastic cup; but no heart-space can up
explode
into a vacuum, space-vacuum
quiet
   -less place.
Who knows what specimens
of "that-one-time-we-couldn't-reach-the-next-branch
so we jumped"
"that-one-time-you-finished-your-book-on-the-subway
and looked punched"
(but it's okay because
no-one looked anyway)
"that-rust-under-fingernails-smell"
"that kiss" packed into perfect formaldehyde;
Who knows when they sing:
when their resonance
cracks vials, where will they go?
see, some people
need a place to breakdown,
so I'll be carving out corners
'till things get round
like the arc of the bells in the clocktowers--
I'll carve out space in sound.

I am small in your hands. If I am small in your hands.
If I could be anything, I know that I would be a bird. I know that I would want to be small and free, and that I would want to feel the wind between my feathers scooping up underneath my breast bone. I know I’d want to fly.
I am small in my words.
I can never find the right words these days. Letters and syllables come tumbling out of my mouth and I reach to grasp them and put them back. I would expand my chest and absorb the words if I only could. If I were more confident I wouldn’t need a safety net outside of my lips or to be able to open up my chest but I do. I falter between rib bones and fingertips as the words slip through my touch into the open air.
I am small in my faith.
I can’t imagine the world under a master plan. Everyday children are pushed and shoved and touched in inappropriate ways. I can no longer find the strength to justify a God worthy of undying affections who sends some of us to unbearably suffer. I can no longer find p
EndarkeningThere’s a door in my head.
It’s wooden; a wooden door. I think it used to be painted, but the paint’s come away so that all that’s left are scraps. The paint was… green. Old green, like centuries seen through dying leaves. There’s a round, brass handle on the right hand side, tarnished with age, and an old fashioned lock beneath it. The door is… in a corridor. A white, plaster corridor. Its old- chunks of plaster have fallen away. But there’s no cobwebs. The floor is wooden, too, long wooden floorboards that stretch forwards and backwards. There are shadows, but the shadows are wrong. There are shadows where there shouldn’t be, and no shadows where there should.
I’m approaching the door, as though from several hundred metres away, but I can see every detail- the grain of the wood, the spots of paint, the misty discolouration on the handle. The way I get closer is strange, as though every time I blink I am four metres

WithoutI don't like a person
Without scars
I feel like they're empty,
Missing something
I feel like a person
Without scars
Has nothing memorable
To share,
To tell
I feel like a person
Without scars
Hasn't yet learned how
To smile,
Breathe,
Live
I feel like a person
Without scars
Doesn't know how to handle life
Because
Life hasn't handled them.
Memoir II1.
Sinking sun
setting my bedroom alight:
summer sky-fire.
2.
Spiders hang prone;
abandoned marionettes,
many legs askew.
3.
Daylilies slumber
as darkness bades the
garden to sleep.
:thumb353330181:
Airborne over GermanyPaper thin lies are falling from the sky
onto ash grey ground and
fallen trees with branches
of flesh, blood and bone.
They flutter,
weightless above the carcass of the earth.
Spinning slowly,
small shadows,
falling onto scars and battle fields.
Blacked faces with white slash teeth,
awed skulls,
raise their eyes up to the curve of blue skin
in something akin to wonder.
The drone of metal birds seems far away.
In the silence of bombshells and bullets,
the sound of falling fills the air,
of other government’s propaganda.
v.in the dew-dark moon-glow
of the star-stained night
i will sit up
wide-eyed, indian-legged,
fearing, loving,
missing you.
:thumb353649749:


Steam Girl by MarcoRibbe-deFreedom Tower (in progress...) by lilcutestarzan ordinary day by zenibyfajnie
Porto sentido II by BrunoIsidropastel dreams by KellyEdenRoad to Thicket Portage! by JosephTimbury
The Bellydancer by TzRThe Lightshow by StefanHefeleBlack Widows2 by Elisanth
Lago d'Antorno by TobiasRichterIn the woods by pixielovesyouThat Same Other World by LarsVanDeGoor
Kirihime - Hanafuda by arielshinigamiMelbourne Central by DarthIndyBallerina by IoannatheVixen
Disagreement II by darkcalypso:thumb339988831:Cut Off by IvanAndreevich


Geisha by IsabelaRazoSole Sailing by TheWitheredRoseThe Eikon by Benjamin-the-Fox
Snowy sunshine by BisantiPetrichoria. by akrathanBlack-winged angel - regular by RozennIlliano
Luka - Art Nouveau by Allunia-dreamConnected by JakobHanssonValley of Seven hundred Waterfalls by TaiGyoza
Distraction by AnnMarieBoneYour Sunshine by Amro0The Thing in Deadspace 3 by ron-guyatt
landscape in rare colours (part1) by SilmarilianPioneers by hitforsaSomeone's Private Scenery by rieke-b
Aqua Flame by KeraDavis98Penelope Pitstop by FabvalleMarket Place by DigitalCutti


FNF Stamp by dreamsinstatic

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Weekly feature of literature, photography and artwork.
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:iconcristinewakesuphappy:
:+fav: memoir ii
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:iconarielshinigami:
arielshinigami Feb 16, 2013  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for the feature :D
Reply
:icondreamsinstatic:
dreamsinstatic Feb 28, 2013  Professional Writer
You're welcome :D
Reply
:iconelisanth:
Thanks for the feature! :)
Reply
:icondreamsinstatic:
dreamsinstatic Feb 28, 2013  Professional Writer
You're welcome!
Reply
:iconjosephtimbury:
JosephTimbury Feb 16, 2013  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for the feature :)
Reply
:icondreamsinstatic:
dreamsinstatic Feb 28, 2013  Professional Writer
You're welcome :)
Reply
:iconpixielovesyou:
Thank you so much for featuring my work :D
Reply
:icondreamsinstatic:
dreamsinstatic Feb 28, 2013  Professional Writer
You're welcome :D
Reply
:iconsilmarilian:
Silmarilian Feb 16, 2013  Student Traditional Artist
thanks for the feature! :)
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