transmit lit winners + feature.

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Deviation Actions

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setmyworldintomotion
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hello, everyone! i was fortunate enough to receive fourteen wonderful entries for my contest, so had a difficult time in deciding the winners were. a huge thank you to everyone who entered (seriously, i appreciate you guys taking the time out to simply sit & write an entry because i gave you a prompt), as well as all the prize donors without which this contest wouldn't have been possible. so, here are the winners!

 :winner: first place: :winner:
bonfirelights with her amazing poem
GaiaI wonder if I’ll miss your skies. When we first started out, you promised I would see the Amazon,
that I’d look up and marvel at your canopy and wild sun.
You said that you were mine.
And oh, how people raved about you –
they said that you were an oyster; a stage
and I went on believing that you were a bright cacophony of wood and actors
or some soft seafood delicacy.
I gulped you down like fish and lies
and with you in my throat, I choked.
I won’t tell you you’re cruel when I let you go.
Instead I will tell you the truth:
that you are Alps in France and wide, wide oceans,
high heel shoes and splendid walls,
you are divorce attorneys and air-force planes
and banks gleaming in the stark white sky as they lord over pigeon cities.
You are sometimes hugs from the people I love
and at other times mushroom clouds.
You are the rhythm thrumming beneath the skins of drums
and a dentist drilling a child’s teeth;
the roar of city buses that still scare m
other wonderful pieces from her include:
HypotheticalsI could talk about myself forever, you know.
I could lean across the lounge, lay my head on your shoulder and just breathe myself into your skin
and maybe you’d be too drunk to hear the mumbling.
I wouldn’t care. I’d make believe that you were listening.
I’m not a liar
but I don’t know if I’m honest, either
people say twenty-something like it’s supposed to carry meaning
and I’ve never, I never, I’ll never fit in.
When I was six I tricked my classmates into thinking I had a real nose ring.
I danced without care. I won a prize just for smiling.
I wish I was still that girl
Instead of a bundle of hair and ribs and wonky thoughts
vainly trying to straighten out
always stumbling into things.
I could listen to you forever, though.
I’d sink like a stain into the cushions and
make believe that I was talking.
I’m good at that kind of thing.

Mature Content

 HotlineThe first time I dialled your number I felt a skipping in my chest
the skip that comes with talking to strangers
the skip that tells me that I’m strapped into the rollercoaster, ready or not for the ride.
You answered, and your voice was like a cave,
deep and warmish and mossy
with echoes trapped inside the dark spaces
like a cave to keep me safe from the storm.
I spoke to you and my own voice was like cobblestones,
cracked and scattered
strewn out across a much-trodden road and kicked into the gutter,
like cobblestones with missing bits, crumbling from the elements.
You told me that things would get better from here on out,
that I’d made the first step and
that you would talk to me for as long as it took to get me from one place to another one
or longer, even.
You spoke to me about large things
responsibility and Ferris wheels and distant nebulas
you spoke to me about small things
garden mice and sub-atomic particles and how many spoonfuls of sugar you take with your tea.
she will receive:
75 :points: from me.
20 :points: from Chezzy-Am.
a journal feature from ieatrosepetals, AlwaysRainCheck, We-Write-To-Escape, Insecure-Writers & i.
a feature on my page for two weeks.

:bademoticon: second place: :bademoticon: 
Chezzy-Am with his powerful piece about marriage
other fantastic poems from him include:
Three Octaves High Were the CrescendoesI
There did you wait, my love; abiding, for
the morning light to fall sway, thus ending
the dreams that you want to forget, implor'd
to the Almighty, forsworn in asking
"God, where are the beings, told in Lore
Of whom e'en the tears of angels falling..."
Soon I was quiet; I saw you, my love
becalmed, for you are a gift from above
II

Thus, while the whispers spreading themselves, nigh',
the fair has started, as I wait for you
she will be there. She who I loved, denied
by Fate - damning - which always will come true
She played with glee; "such fair games" thought I
but I waited, till at last, hopes renewed
I approached, and spoke, the soul igniting
"I love you"; she smiled, and left me clinging
III
Tell her to wait under the willow tree
With no regrets of times spent together;
Forgive and forget, my love, what won't be.
They're meant to end, like autumn leaves - withered;
is naught which can be done by you and me.
Go now, for life will

Mature Content

 collab with echolalic-ellieThe March of the Seasons



pale doe, summertime:
tree tongues in their thousands 
curl upon themselves, sunburnt
edges creak beneath a hot, heavy
downpour - momentary reprieve.
shadow crow, autumntime:
slow fall the leaves of the wood-weeper,
willow tree, who tenderly muses its song, the
silence of a ministry where winged 
things take to the skies, bearing carrion
from a faded destiny - begotten.
dappled mare, wintertime:
frost-crust shatters beneath gentle
pressing, reveals puckered purple shoots
of bruised and battered feed - cold
lips caress the susurration.
maple fair, springtime:
while the gentle winds spread themselves, scars
burrow through the earth to delight in the death
of old and birth of new. tattered limbs are reaching,
unfurling soft green tongues - love echoes in the 
whispers they drop from on high.
he will receive:
50 :points: from me.
a journal feature from ieatrosepetals, AlwaysRainCheck, We-Write-To-Escape, Insecure-Writers & i.
a feature on my page for two weeks.
a llama from ReiReiSerenade, imperfect-parachute, & i.

:bademoticon: third place: :bademoticon: 
i could not decide between saltwaterlungs & AlwaysRainCheck so am awarding a joint third place.
saltwaterlungs' stunning entry was

Mature Content

& other lovely pieces from her include 
To My Biology Textbook EXTENDEDOn page 159 of my biology textbook, it reads,
“...cancer is the uncontrolled growth of cells”
as though that could explain everything,
and I thought it did for a time.
But my textbook never warned me
that his skin would pale
to a point where I could see
the blue freight trains
carrying eighteen pills
throughout his frail body.
My textbook never warned me
my grandma who used to spit sparks
would begin swallowing them,
and I would be the only one
to see the ashes tumble from her lips.
My textbook never warned me
that his watery irises would freeze over,
that he would hurl insults like knives,
and that he would clench his jaw
as tightly as his fist clenched his wine glass
because the only person to blame is himself,
and he can’t swallow that as easily
as he can the olives in his martinis.
My textbook never warned me
that my grandma would whisper
with the ashes spilling out her mouth
like prayers she had never uttered before,
that he fought because he wanted to see
my sis UnfathomableI have been told that my eyes
are like someone bottled you up
and poured your color into my irises.
Sure, it’s a lovely compliment,
but I am not you.
You are a child playing dress-up
with your sister’s coats and frocks
because you want to be something bigger;
and she’s sweltering with jealousy
that you can wear those grays and blues
better than she ever could.
You are an angst-ridden teen
who dyed and spiked her hair
to hear her mother scream,
and no matter how many times
she tells you that your boyfriend
is a washed up good-for-nothing,
you keep coming back to kiss the shoreline
because you think that his love feels right.
You are a middle-aged mother
glancing over her shoulder
to check for those nosy neighbors
while putting up your new windowpanes
of sapphire stained glass to cloak
those blistering waves that occupy
your pristine, picket fence house.
You are the woman that sailors
have sworn to for centuries
and the woman that will keep
scientists surprised for year SaltwaterI was born of the sea,
And, no, that's not a metaphor.
My mother could see the ocean
From her hospital window
Just as her mother could,
And my father's mother could
Long before her.
But before we had found our home,
We came from deserts and forests
And had to follow the aching moans
For waterwaterwater
Straight to the sea:
The whispering and soothing sea,
The roaring and ripping sea!
And she is what binds us:
Her gritty bits of sand grinding between our teeth,
And her salt in the crevices of our collarbones
We craved these before we came,
And we will crave these after we leave
Because saltwater washes through our veins
And that's not something easily forgotten.
AlwaysRainCheck's incredible poem was
& other terrific pieces from her include
Ya'aburneeDon't ask me to walk the path of life without you, my dear
even the brightest beauty I'd see of a darker hue, my dear.
Oh, I can't think of my personal universe divided and broken,
your presence in my mind no longer true, my dear.
Forgive this weak, frangible heart; too much wonder
vanishes in the clouds as morning dew, my dear.
Without Spring a Winter, for both of us will come; the things 
we can do to change the world are none but just a few, my dear.
I am grateful to whatever force brought us together,
when I say always you know it's true, my dear.
But there is so much more to our forever than I can say,
there is my stupid fear of losing you, my dear
there is the unstoppable train of time, unforeseen
a future; so into the abyss this cry I threw, my dear
may be numerous our days, and happy. May I be the first
to say farewell, the first to say adieu, my dear. Sleepless NightHow I love you
little white bird.
The way you greet mornings
with a never belated
happiness
When I just close my eyes
that faithful branch
you claim 
again
& I silently applaud
every note
& I silently desire
to shoot the sun
Your cheerful chant
pierces the thick curtain
of my exhaustion
"the dawn is near
the dawn is here"
Oh
how I hate you
little white bird. Ravenous Mind RunningSitting in the dark, alone
with a flower in my hand,
I stare into the empty silence,
ravenous mind running.
Ideas unstoppable, unclear
as train landscapes;
no way to understand, I breathe,
sitting in the dark, alone.
I let the night come, starving;
it won't be easy, it won't take long
but I should ask your help instead,
with a flower in my hand.
Don't be scared by my shadows,
there is nothing you can say,
could you just stand by me, while
I stare into the empty silence?
Greeting you always with a smile,
in the secret hours before dawn
I will write myself to sleep,
ravenous mind running.
they will both receive:
25 :points: from me.
a journal feature from ieatrosepetals, AlwaysRainCheck, We-Write-To-Escape, Insecure-Writers & i.
a feature on my page for one week.

please don't hesitate to check out all the entries here, & a warm thanks (again) to the contestants & prize donors! :heart:
© 2014 - 2024 setmyworldintomotion
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imperfect-parachute's avatar
imperfect-parachute
Congratulations to all the winners! Will have the feature at We-Write-To-Escape up soon!! =D