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MODO FRANCOPHONE RECHERCHE PO…SIE FRANCOPHONE

I am a Foreign Language Admin at DailyLitRecognition ! That means I keep an eye out for the best FRENCH literature on dA (specifically poetry). If you think you have a suggestion for me, read on!

What is DailyLitRecognition / LitRecognition?

DLR is a group dedicated to promoting the work of Literature artists on deviantArt.

By showcasing one featured DD per day, the Literature Gallery Moderators provide the community with a showcase of excellence in Literature. In contrast, we will be showcasing excellence with a series of literature pieces each day in a News Article to serve the community. We are a diverse group featuring 5 pieces of quality literature every day.

In such a large community many writers feel that their work goes unnoticed. DLR is here to help change that!

How do I suggest a DLR?

Please see the profile page for the general guidelines and a list of the other Admins you can suggest to. Please only suggest a piece to one Admin at a time to avoid any confusion.

Okay, but what if I have a suggestion for YOU, Wordeea?

Top right corner - send me a note! Here's the rundown:

:bulletblue: Please send no more than two suggestions at a time. This makes it easier for me to keep up.

:bulletblue: I can feature FRENCH Prose or Poetry, though I try to focus more on Poetry.

:bulletblue: Please include a thumb and a description of why you think this piece deserves to be featured. It doesn't have to be a full critique - a few sentences will do nicely!

:bulletblue: Yes, you can suggest yourself! If you deserve it, you deserve it! But please don't send me your entire gallery - remember I have to actually READ everything sent to me.

:bulletblue: All the Admins have a certain style they enjoy. I myself like reading FRENCH Poetry that is rich and vivid, tells a story and with a great last stanza/verse. I like it when it punches me in the gut. I like off the cuff stuff, unconventional stuff, i do enjoy classical, but i tend to go towards rough around the edges work

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In a nutshell - A feature

Sun Feb 8, 2015, 9:45 PM






From GraceYou fall so fast;
A comet on its way
to impact.
 
As you descend,
I have to wonder if
I ever really knew
you.
 
  -our secret word
that tells a thousand
stories - a collection
of are you there and
how are you, please
explain
, I understand -
I'm dreaming of your
laugh while our word
continues to show
what goes unsaid,
what are you trying
to say?
I'm biting my tongue
and yes, I'm still here
but my head hurts
too much from the effort of
not thinking of you
  -Danse-Les roses brûlent ce soir,
Dans l’âme du monde
Paysage
Noir
Porte ces perles de soie
Brulantes morsures,
Regarde
Moi.
Mords ce visage blanc,
Cette douleur,
Tes lèvres
Danse avec moi encore,
Juste une fois,
Je t’aime.


XIXLe cœur hérissé,
Je vous redoute – et pourtant,
Durant les heures bleues,
Ce sont toujours vos mains
Que j'attends
070115 1043 EP
  RetrouvaillesTon sourire m’est de cendre,
Tes mots de poussière.
Perdue dans les méandres
De souvenirs amers,
L’envie de ton étreinte
Comme d’une vieille habitude.
Effacer ton empreinte
Ou bien ma solitude ?
  fairy taleslet's you and i
grow a paper garden -
wreathe it in tissue paper mist,
water it
with those little circles
that accumulate (and multiply) inside of hole punches.
we'll wish a little life
into sturdy cardstock beetles and tulle butterflies.
bees we'll fashion mostly from papercuts.
you dig the pond - i'll set it rippling with
tiny washi koi
and tortoises pasted together
from the shiniest leftovers.
i'll spend a while with scissors
fringing the corn fields,
and you can play mad scientist
piecing cows together - interlocking tops and tails
and tripods to make them stand.
castles are so old fashioned anyway.


First thingsToday is your last breath,
the first that is truly mine.
I have eaten everything.
A thousand rising suns,
this is the first I have witnessed.
It is so beautifully human
to make a ritual of waking up,
and forgetting.
You'll be fine, baby.

Someone's waiting for you outside.
  Renga Tree - Deja Vu Reduxfalling through forgotten futures and hopeful pasts
i land in the now
  Dust DevilTranslucent in blue
memories sift away
on dawn's breath.


Past the Break (of Dawn)Till the pain of loneliness is gone 
Lie with me, say that it's not wrong.
You fever for more than my skin alone,
So I'll sing you one of my nonsense songs.
Gently I sweep your hair from your eyes;
It falls like dark waves and shadows your brow.
For you I'd be strong, but tonight we've shed lies,
Shed pretensions, dropped our masks after our bow.
I swear by this moment to keep my arms 'round you tight,
If you swear by something sacred to do the same.
You don't have to fear, I won't leave you in the night. 
(I wonder, when you're old, will you remember my name?)
No one really hears my aching soul the way you do.
Why must the dawn break and the night have to fall?
There are no words as to why it breaks my heart in two;
With my empathetic lenses, keen and dark, so does it all.
If you will only say to me, with all honesty, "Please stay,"
We'll see hope need not shatter with the morning sun.
Help me take this life day by day --
For lives nearly gone need something d
  blindhe strings me along
but never notices
looks me through and
past to admire only her
I never falter, stuff up
stay silent when I'm pulled
along with his lovesick
antics. I judder.
shivers ripple on
up my form
when he touches
and draws,
leans his head
never the more
I wish for
I fawn after for
I'm bound and when
he drifts, I am left
swaying
  to everything there is a seasonI.
as a flower or a man,
i shall burst,
and scatter.
as a corpse, i shall
peel away, and
return to the earth,
the air. i'll be in
your lungs yet.
II.
look, it’s not that i’m not
a little bit charmed
by the concentric circles
of existence, and the love,
the bitter, bright and
stinking
love.
it’s not that i don’t like
carrying this body that is a miracle,
a miracle in the sum of its parts.
kahlo got it, she knew what
she was talking about –
but i won’t put words
in a dead woman’s mouth.
and the hot sweat of it here,
the pain, the fuck and the sour wine
of it here,
it isn’t really chaining me
down. i’m thinking of
floating away.
III.
did i ever tell you
i’d like to die on my back,
looking at the sky?
in one of those faraway places
i saw from the car as a child, the top of a hill
seen from a distance; someone else’s farm,
someone else’s land. someone else’s emptiness,
a thin line of grass between
dirt and the inf


lose itI loved you
as I am going to lose you:
steadily, and without artifice.
like the clearing of floodwaters.
like the healing of a wound.
there is something within me
that does not permit permanence,
something rancid inside
that slowly wears through—
I cannot keep. I lose. I lose.
but I am determined, this time,
to do it gracefully. to make it
into a skill that I can perfect,
a performance that commands awe,
a sideshow of precious things
slipping through my fingers.
somewhere, behind a curtain,
on a rickety platform
surrounded by strangers,
I am losing you
as I have loved you:
willingly, and without reservations.
with the depth of an ocean.
with the tenderness of a bruise.
  HeresyThe beauty of heresy lies
in the words
withering on the vine
and all those sounds
I hear you
breathing under water.
I wait as
the chysallis of dawn
wears out its welcome,
skips the beating heart offered up
as ransom
and tries to make a home
somewhere
between your pages.
  GifleBriser un rêve
délivrer trois coeurs
- mélodie d'hiver






Nearing the end by SylveryFox


what you never said by Inextremiss  unplayed piano by catch---22


Montparnasse III by Herculanum

_sadness by virginval  w i s h i n g w e l l by silvia-giuli


rebirth by Delawer-Omar




Retour à nulle part
-par Gaston Miron


Partir de rien, parce qu’on n’est rien d’autre
alors, où est-ce qu’on va, qu’est-ce qu’on fait
errant en ce peuple, et dans sa langue errante
ce peuple qui n’en finit plus de ne pas naître

C’est rien qu’un jour, un jour de plus
ou de moins, dans notre vie, où le vent
est un vent qu’on ne démêle pas de l’âme
et sans lui le corps ne tient pas debout

Ça ne pourra pas toujours ne pas arriver
Nous entrerons là où nous sommes déjà

Car il n’est pas question
de laisser tomber notre espérance



------------------

Acquainted with the night
- by Robert Frost


I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
A luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.




  • Eating: when needed
  • Drinking: an excellent sauvignon blanc

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Wordeea's Profile Picture
Wordeea
...
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Canada
Ivre de vie dans la lumière

----

"In the end, only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you."
~ Buddhist saying

"The distance between dreams and reality is called discipline"
- Someone on the interwebz

“we would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright.”
― Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

“The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea"
― Karen Von Blixen

"What we find in a soulmate is not something wild to tame but something wild to run with"
- Robert Brault

"Qui m'aime, me suive"
- Philippe VI

"... Nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't about how hard you hit. It's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward; how much you can take and keep moving forward. That's how winning is done! "
- Rocky Balboa
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