i believe in sherlock holmesHe wasn't a man of strong faith, solid faith, nor any faith for that matter. He didn't believe in a god or multiple deities or pray to the heavens for rain, no. The world was vast and vacant, abandoned by whatever had brought about existence. What other explanation was there for the hopelessness that plagued him day and night, that infested his thoughts and made him cringe?When he was a soldier on the Afghani battlefield, valiantly defending his Queen and country, any small remnant of faith that he might have cradled was shot along with his friends, his fellow comrades at arms. Seeing that much suffering, death, and despair damaged a person beyond words. He returned to the bleak streets of London a broken man, or at least he thought so. Something deep inside of him told him otherwise when he met Sherlock Holmes. (When you walk with Sherlock Holmes, you see the battlefield.)Sure, the bloke was incessant. He was always saying the wrong things, constantly picking out flaws and consisten
Love dA Lit: Issue 63Welcome to the sixty-third issue of my weekly news article, Love dA Lit! Every Sunday this article will aim to promote volunteer opportunities, various resources, prompts, challenges, and workshops, as well as highlighting various contests, interviewing various members of the literature community and spotlighting a specific group every week. This is by no means a complete list of all the literature going-ons, merely a tool to help you get involved and stay informed.This weeks group spotlight is Expose-Lit!LITplease's Community PortalLiterature Links Expose-it, now officially launched, puts up some more guides: Critique, Write Better, and Competitions.
Where?Where is my poeticness gone? I felt its silky gloves slipping from my fingers together with you and my bare, withered skin is torn and whipped by a freezing wind called absence.Where is my will gone? I felt its support fade from under my eyelids together with you and my weak, dry eyes are struggling -but losing- against this overwhelming strength called exhaustion.Where are my songs gone? I felt their As and Bs fall to a clef together with you and my old, ugly voice is strangled and suffocated by this powerful symphony called loneliness.Where is it, my love, where is my happiness? You felt my heart beat beat beat to a bird's rhythm before dying out but your unspoken, painful secrecy just raised its walls more.And where did you take me, my love, where did you take me?I feel shaken and lost, and these lands just echo of an era called you.
That Old LetterThe marching was steady and constant, boots thudding heavily against the hard packed ground. It begged for rain as it cracked under the soldier's feet, splitting in a million pieces like a giant puzzle made of the surface of the Earth. The weather beaten uniforms that stuck out from their ramrod straight bodies were covered in dust, sandy camouflage for the dry conditions. Bullet proof vests and heavy helmets protected them, guns as black as the death they brought held by shaking hands; some eyes were battle hardened and others wide with fear. In their ranks stood a boy just shy of twenty, his own eyes cold and expressionless. He appeared to be a natural born killer.Dear Daniel,It wasn't long ago that he was sitting on his front porch with his best friend, griping that high school should be over by now. With foolhardy grins and wandering minds, the boys were often the center of chaos. But they were "good boys", according to their parents, at least. They had lived three houses
Stargirl I whirl madly with the stars, sing with the planets, frolick with the sun, and chase the moon; a girl of the cosmos. I leap from galaxy to galaxy. I grab hold of a shooting star and ride it to wherever it wants to take me. The Milky Way embraces me, that mind-boggling abyss of light. Out in this darkness there's so much space, so many undiscovered mysteries. I remember one of my favorite books. It said "Star people do not shed tears, but light." Who am I crying for? Is it for me? For you? For the people who are hurting, dying? For the planet that continues its ancient dance around the mighty sun? I cry, creating more falling stars. Where will they land? I think we choose how bright we want that light inside of us to be. I will live in that light. Light to lead the lost through the darkness. Light for those who have given up. Every day, every month, every year is new, unique. Each moment is infinitely precious. Don'