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Submitted on
December 15, 2012
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** This competition has now CLOSED.


Lit Competition #14 - "The Magic of Memories"
I just read through my past journals and it seems this is my 14th lit competition here on DA, and my 17th competition overall, which is jolly! I have obviously been gone a long time so I wanted to meet people from the lit community and get involved again so this seemed like a good idea, plus obviously its almost Christmas so why the hell not!

The Theme
This year I asked my 7 closest friends to write their favourite memory from 2012 on a piece of paper about each of the other 7 (including me). They will all go into envelopes and on New Years Eve each person will get an envelope with these letters from the other 7 people about them. This is a great way to remind you of how far you have come in the past year, remember the best days and nights of that year, to feel loved, and it provides a permanent reminder that you can go back to in twenty years and remember this year. I'm hoping that it'll go well and become a new tradition within my friendship group.

SO, your challenge is to think of someone you love, and a memory you have had with them this year, and use that memory or emotion as the inspiration for a piece of literature. You can go off on a tangent, or stick with a retelling of the story, its up to you. You might wanna consider giving this to that person on New Years Eve, so try to think how you can make it appropriate for them as well as for a wide audience.

The deadline
JANUARY 12th at MIDNIGHT GMT. (the end of that day)

Prizes
Wanna donate to the prize list? Just comment or send me a note. You can do this anonymously if you wish, or if you wish to donate points there is a widget on my profile page BloodshotInk

FIRST PLACE
(+) 1000 points from BloodshotInk
(+) 150 points from LadyLincoln (via donation pool)
(+) A journal feature from TwiggyTeeluck
(+) 5 critiques from NotenSMSK
(+) 5 faves from NotenSMSK
(+) 15 points from NotenSMSK
(+) 75 points from wyldhoney (via donation pool)
(+) 30 points from SofiaHiggins (via donation pool)
(+) 100 points from Amanda-Graham (via donation pool)
(+) 100 points from trueshinken (via donation pool)
(+) 3 constructive comments/critiques from WorldWar-Tori
(+) A feature from WorldWar-Tori
(+) 50 points from WorldWar-Tori

SECOND PLACE
(+) 500 points from BloodshotInk
(+) 100 points from LadyLincoln (via donation pool)
(+) A journal feature from TwiggyTeeluck
(+) 3 critiques from NotenSMSK
(+) 3 faves from NotenSMSK
(+) 10 points from NotenSMSK
(+) 25 points from wyldhoney (via donation pool)
(+) 15 points from SofiaHiggins (via donation pool)
(+) 50 points from Amanda-Graham (via donation pool)
(+) 50 points from trueshinken (via donation pool)
(+) 3 constructive comments/critiques from WorldWar-Tori
(+) A feature from WorldWar-Tori
(+) 50 points from WorldWar-Tori

THIRD PLACE
(+) 250 points from BloodshotInk
(+) 50 points from LadyLincoln (via donation pool)
(+) A journal feature from TwiggyTeeluck
(+) 2 critiques from NotenSMSK
(+) 2 faves from NotenSMSK
(+) 5 points from NotenSMSK
(+) 15 points from SofiaHiggins (via donation pool)
(+) 25 points from Amanda-Graham (via donation pool)
(+) 50 points from trueshinken (via donation pool)
(+) 3 constructive comments/critiques from WorldWar-Tori
(+) A feature from WorldWar-Tori
(+) 50 points from WorldWar-Tori

HONOURABLE MENTIONS
For exceptional literature that does not rank in the top three we may award 50 point awards (from BloodshotInk) up to 5 seperate awards can be given. NotenSMSK will also give a critique and a fave to honourable mentions and Amanda-Graham will give 5 points to each honourable mention.

Rules
(+) Your entry must be sent in a note to me (BloodshotInk)
(+) Entries will not be accepted before 1pm GMT on the 15th of December or after midnight on January 12th (the start of that day)
(+) Due to the nature of this competition it must contain 'original characters'. No fan fiction please.
(+) Visual poetry will be accepted but must feature the text predominantly and the visual aspects will not affect the judge's decision
(+) Judges and those who donate to the competition will be eligible to win again, but, in the case of the judges, will not allowed to cast any vote on their own piece. BloodshotInk will not be allowed to win.
(+) All languages welcome but you must provide an english translation so we can study the meaning behind the words as well as the composition and words.
(+) You must link to this page in the artists comments!
(+) There is no age restriction on this competition
(+) Prose and poetry (and any hybrid) will be accepted, however there is a word limit of 1500 words maximum.
(+) You may enter multiple times but you will only be able to win once, for example if you get 2nd place you will not be allowed to also get 3rd no matter how good your pieces are.
(+) The entry must be new. Therefore posted after 14th of December
(+) Important the deadline is in GMT!
(+) The judges will not comment on your work until the competition closes (for fairness sake).
(+) We reserve the right to edit this information, including the rules, up to the date of 7th of January

How To Enter
(+) Write a new piece of literature
(+) Submit it to DeviantART (in the right category please!!)
(+) Link to the competition in the Artists Comments
(+) Copy the address URL
(+) Send a note to BloodshotInk with the link URL in it.
(+) Tell your friends!

Current Entries
This Strange World That No Longer Contains YouThey say I'm like you. I hope they're right. They've been saying it for a long time.
My parents always wonder how they ended up with such a polite, demure, sweet, pure little thing. Though of course you and everyone else know what a hellion I can be. But I certainly didn't get any of those aforementioned positive qualities from them. I have you to thank for those.
You raised the entire family and handfuls of our friends. You are Grama to the entire town. But you're my Grama, (even if you're really my great-grandmother), and I was the lucky one out of all of us who seems to have taken after you.
They tell me I'm positive. I'm strong. I'm resilient. I'm not sure I see it. But they say the same about you, and I certainly saw that. They say I'm taking news of your death positively, because I'm glad that even though I was not present, my friends were, your other grandchildren, yours because they were mine. Or perhaps the other way around. I'm sure your cooking earned me more than my
Intergenerationali.
I scribbled unicorns for my mother
and colored in mandala patterns
for my father,
but rarely got an extra glance
for my artistic endeavors.
I put them on my bedroom walls
instead of our blank white refrigerator,
where I could be proud of myself
(since no one would be so for me).
ii.
He’s late on the first day
of class, and I’m not sure
what I’m getting into. It’s the only class
that takes the full hour and a half
and doesn’t even touch the syllabus.
The room is too large for us;
he swings an arm and invites us all closer
before diving right into the first book
of the semester.
I still don’t know what I’m getting into,
but I know I’m going to have fun.
iii.
Invisible
is my middle name.
But he always says hello
when I’m in the department,
and I wonder when I started
becoming so noticeable.
iv.
Sometimes he calls me “kiddo,”
and I’m always startled.
I’m not used to being nicknamed
though I suppose I am a kid
Flutterings' Literature Competition #14 -Entry-Your roses were beautiful that day. But you and I knew roses were only roses, like any other rose. You painted the door to your room red because of me. Because I love red roses. Because I love red in general and out of all the doors which are white, gray, made of wood or metal, you never forget a red door. What's behind it. Covering my eyes with both your hands and walking me there just to reveal the beautiful cherry red door, was the best gift you could've given me.
It's funny. Most of the red doors I see now, belong to exits. Sometimes I imagine myself walking through them and straight back into your arms. An exit out of this dream they call real life and back to that moment when we were so close that everything else seemed like a dream.
I painted my door red after a while. I couldn't help but wonder what would happen if I did. Would it take me to where you were? Some think it's silly. Others have found it to be extremely pityful but they dare not to say it. "Smile and nod."
I try no
Recipe for Two People in LoveIngredients:
1 overly attached friend
1 teaspoon of trust issues
A handful of exes
2 cups full of tears
2 cups of disappointment
Rage and sorrow to taste
1 jar of true love
Directions:
Start with the exes. Add them one at a time to the pan. Slowly poor in the cups of disappointment. Sift it all together. When it looks incredibly painful and about to fall apart, add the tears and vigorously combine it all together. Check for taste; it should be incredibly sour. Add an overly attached friend and a teaspoon of trust issues. Bring it to a boil. When it's about to explode, add the jar full of true love.
Let it rest.
Serve with a side dish of respect and friendship.
Non-Judgemental and Non-PrejudicedNon-Judgemental and Non-Prejudiced
5-1-13
You’re an angel with broken wings,
Yet you still try to help me fly
And shelter me when storms flash
And flood.
You’re an angel with problems of your own,
Yet you still try to sort out mine
Filing them properly and giving suggestions of hope
In a hopeless place.
You’re an angel who’s dying to die,
Yet you sat over Christmas
Telling me to consider family and friends
Who would miss me;
Non-judgemental and non-prejudiced.
Listening to my tirade of woes,
You put aside your own
To lend a listening ear
And a hug.
And I know that in the future,
Should I ever need those wings for shelter,
Should I ever need my mind re-filed,
Should I ever need a listening ear,
You will be there;
Non-judgemental and non-prejudiced.
resplendentyou sit beside me, it is morning; we are
dream-sunk and tangled in your sheets
honey warm, and slow-breathing, lips purple
in the bluish glow of dawn, barely cracked:
you sit beside me; it is morning
and the bluebells wake in fields we can’t see
from your backyard,
and the dawn lends its relucent glow to my skin--
and soon we are both scantily dressed in a coat of sun.
we croon in discussion about
your parents, about bad teenage poetry,
about the earth that bloomed
while we were not paying attention.
it is morning,
and you are limpid before my eyes.
you sit beside me; and there is
a comfortable silence ringing
in our ears, entertained simply
by each others' presence
and the spring grass splayed out beneath us
like a canvas waiting to be filled with watercolors
of our bodies- roiling the earth, and pale yellow
and crimson, and mauve hang on your lips
after you have spoken such jovial divinities
that a color can be placed to each syllable.
and i tell you, your words last long after
hermanitayou said mami named you out of the grabbag,
one painted green-white-red and blaring brass:
pick three, we need two for the middle,
mexican female protagonist with hope
and beauty
and something easy at the front,
something gringos can say.

ruffled hair, dyed black by my hands,
you twisted and spat,
sometimes i wanna go by esperanza;
screw sandra cisneros,
the tin way others say it,
it's a beautiful name but you'd still call me maria,
everyone would.

so i told you, maybe,
maybe everyone would but it's okay to be maria—
as long as you don't pick bella
i'll still say i'm your brother.
you laughed like crackling static,
raw throat and all bones: hug me and we clatter,
laughing harder, all bones.
whatever, jorge,
at least they loved me—ambrose?
saint or no,
no wonder you're a maricón.

and we laughed like crackling static,
clattering bones.
How can you love my panda hands?You find the wizards hiding in curtains
where I see nothing. You peer with clear eyes
and spy damsels in combat with dragons.
I talk of numbers and quotas and keys
you are selfless and selfish and loving
jumbled together 'til you're all I can see.
You took my world of hard angles and lines
And you showed me the beauty in blank space.
The most important questionOh love,
You are a summer's breeze
(playful, soothing)
smoothing the lines from my time-worn face.
You are the sheltering shade
(peaceful, calming)
stilling the roiling eddies of this broiling life.
Each night,
laconic, draconic,
I curl up around you (my love, my priceless treasure),
but I'm all smoke, no flame.
The heavy silence is banished by your steady breath,
and the shadows are no match for the light behind your eyes.
Even my thoughts still,
unable to flutter,
caught in the amber of your assurance,
of such rightness as to take my breath away.
That I could let our silence be my symphony -  
That I could wear these nights like a ward -
oh love, please forgive your poor greedy fool.
A question stalks my consciousness.
(incessant, insistent)
Growling, growing when you aren't there.
Circling, demanding to be heard,
it pushes at my lips like a burst dam,
promising an exquisite release.
Oh love.
DreamersShe reminds me that she's a dreamer
Her right hand delicately grips a pencil
as she's working equations on a TI-89 with her left
She looks up at me and smiles,
and there are stars, meteors,
spanning across the cosmos of her expression
her countenance reminds me to look up at the chalkboard
that's attempting to teach me how
to make verses sing from pages in a plain 8 by 11 notebook
and I am only armed with
a .7 pencil and a purple pen,
stolen from my older sister's pencil pouch
My hands are inches away from hers
from the desks side by side
like cars parallel parked on a side road
her equations confuse me
until she flips the page
and shows me stories
filled with metaphors of the sky
reminding me that we are both here for the same thing:
Writing.
I needed a reason to smile
She wanted a lesson in writing
She reminds me that I'm a dreamer
We exchange stories and poems like cigarettes
except the only price we pay is a small portion of our ego
when there are mistakes and flaws,
and we are gra
The Man that StayedYou are to me the man that stayed. The one that still lives in my heart.
Not like that drafty man of my past I admired so wildly. He was gone before weeks end. Because I called and told him I had the feeling something was not all right about our relationship. He just decided that maybe the whole relationship was not all right then. Or maybe that something about me was not all right, as I got difficult.
No, you stayed through my complaints, my insecurities about my feelings. Through my ranting about most likely just anything. My me being difficult. You stayed and listened to my complaints and my broken-hearted feelings, though you didn't understand them - and I did neither.
You stayed despite me being lazy, just like a sloth. Not really the perfect housewife that could cook like your grandma. Not that funny party fellow that likes to go out every other night. No, I prefer to sit at home and brood hours about things you do not understand becau
Remember NovemberYour name is scrawled on this headstone
Somewhere underneath rest your bones
But for all I know
You’re off dancing somewhere in Italy
Tossing fistfuls of petunias in the air
Spreading dandelion seeds in the wind
For all I know
You’re dangling your legs from a swing
Mouth open in silent mirth
Toes touching the point of the nearest star
For all I know
You’re running past the tall grass
Through the sun-baked sand to the ocean’s edge
Racing the water
While I’ll hit this dusty road
Set foot on a path
I never knew I would have to forge
Sometimes dandelion seeds scatter across the asphalt
From the yellow flowers growing on the sides
I can almost hear snatches of your voice in the wind
I still see you at midnight sitting on chimney tops
Blowing steam into the cold
Raising your hand to point at the stars
When I smell seawater
I think of you standing feet planted on an outcrop of rock
Palms out to feel the spray of the ocean
All the while I don’t know how many
learning to hear the unspokeni hear your pencil
drag atop the paper
and subtle breaths drawn.
i wonder, as i
let my mind wander
down winding paths
and through lonely fields.
trees are barren.
the frost nips at your heels
when you walk too slow.
every release from my
heavy lungs
looks like smoke.
i hesitate to speak,
afraid the words will waft away
never reaching the crook of your neck
where i want them to nest.
"i love you," is all i can muster -
never feeling it weighs enough.
i imagine a tongue
unwoven, unbound;
i pretend that my heart
is full of profound
words -
unheard by angel,
by beast.
my head is wrapped
in thick fog;
though, i fancy it with feathers
in flight
through a bright, moonlit summer's eve.
it's clear amongst cloudless skies.
here we travel freely, unafraid,
unabashed -
our souls speak.
no words will ever be enough.
amor vincit omnia - read descriptionIn nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti
My dear heart,
Forlorn have I found myself drifting between Scylla and Charybdis, ne'er a comforting pasture on which I may reside myself and my lonely wearisome soul, set adrift onward to the path of no return... I ache inside, so blistered is my plight, dearest, that I am unable to describe this gnawing thorn edging its way through my already ruptured spine - Alas, I am unable to fight it no longer.
Suffice to say my love, you would have out grown me, for I was always in your eyes a cynical old Bard, constantly badgering you with praise o'er your finesse and elegance; alas, my heart, my dear heart, I am unable to change - once the withered leaves of autumn have become senescent, they cannot become their former selves. Such am I, a fallen leaf of autumn, waiting by the forest shunned by the moonlit sky. Verily, oh dearest bird of paradise, how you would love these serene constellations that decorate the night-time, much as you would like to
Up in the starsI remember those nights...
Those beautiful summer nights.
By your side.
I remember those kisses...
Those extraordinary kisses of yours.
With you.
I remember those hugs...
Those comfortable hugs of yours.
You were warm.
Now... All those moments
Are up there, darling.
Up in the stars.
The best days of my life
Are up there...
Up in the stars.
I wish that one day...
Our souls can meet up again...
Up there.
Up in the stars.
Oh dear, you were the best.
The best that could've happen to me.
But now... Those memories
Are up there...
Up in the stars.
I hope you're happy.
As I was with you.
But now, my happiness
Is up there...
Up in the stars.
I wish I can be happy again...
Until that day
I must stay here
Watching time fade away.
But when it fades, it goes up...
Up to the stars.
Soaring, FallingTired love songs sing
That one falls in love.
But in truth,
together, we soared.
We flew in joy
Above the white clouds.
We laughed freely together
As we looked down.
But slowly, your hand slipped.
I knew the truth, but I did not speak.
Then you let go with the words
"I don't love you anymore"
And I fell, slowly drifting down.
I was but snowy ash,
A mere remnant of a flame.
And slowly, oh so slowly, I still. Fall.
Add a Comment:
 
:iconnotensmsk:
NotenSMSK Featured By Owner Jan 10, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
wait wait wait... POETRY IS MUST?
Reply
:iconbloodshotink:
BloodshotInk Featured By Owner Jan 10, 2013
What?
Reply
:iconnotensmsk:
NotenSMSK Featured By Owner Jan 10, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Is prose not allowed?
Reply
:iconbloodshotink:
BloodshotInk Featured By Owner Jan 10, 2013
Yes it is
Reply
:iconnotensmsk:
NotenSMSK Featured By Owner Jan 10, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
I only asked because in "How to enter" it is written "write a new poem" so I wondered if prose is not allowed.
Reply
:iconbloodshotink:
BloodshotInk Featured By Owner Jan 10, 2013
Ahh sorry. I copied the original rules from my last competition and thought I'd edited that all out
Reply
:iconnotensmsk:
NotenSMSK Featured By Owner Jan 10, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Ah okay :) sorry for my initial reaction but I had written a full prose and just as I read "poetry" I was like :stare: seriously?
Reply
:iconbloodshotink:
BloodshotInk Featured By Owner Jan 10, 2013
:giggle: No worries!
Reply
:iconnotensmsk:
NotenSMSK Featured By Owner Jan 10, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
... okay :tears: thanks ^^
Reply
:iconworldwar-tori:
WorldWar-Tori Featured By Owner Jan 2, 2013   General Artist
Two things:
first I thought I had donated but I don't see it on the list so I can donate 50 points, 3 constructive comments/critiques and a feature for all winners (=

second:
I've become ridiculously inspired to write and I might even enter!
Reply
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