Why Titles Will Help Get Your Work Noticed

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RogueMudblood's avatar
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If you see or read anything on dA that absolutely awes you, please consider suggesting the piece for a DD feature. FAQ #18: Who selects Daily Deviations and how are they chosen?


Seems silly to even say that, doesn't it? But I've seen quite a few deviations lately with "Untitled" or "Image 039" or a series of numbers auto assigned by their camera. And while I can completely understand this for purposes of stock photos where you use keywords in the description and tags to make sure those looking for that type of image will find your piece, I'm also seeing it on pieces that are in other categories.

Personally, it's a turn off.



I'm not going to look at a piece that has "Untitled" unless it's the only interesting thing on the page. I'm being completely honest - I've skipped over such pieces numerous times. I recognize that sometimes you have trouble coming up with the perfect title for your work, but it really seems like you're saying you don't care when you're titling your uploads that way repeatedly. Or as "*" or "." (Yes, there's one individual who does this all the time.)

I'm not the only one that feels this way.



SilverInkblot has started a community initiative, and it's been going on for a couple of years now, based on the message posted in their journal here: Untitled is just a synonym for lazy. When I ran across this the first time, it seemed really interesting to me, and the first piece I did with this method was the best received of the four I've posted with this method of "found poetry". (My last two have been picking on the staff to find the titles, and one of them is complete randomness. The staff have slim pickings in their galleries for the most part. :grump:)

With all of this in mind, I'm going to introduce you to a group you should get to know:
:iconthetitlepage:

Even if you don't write poetry, titling your work can get you noticed by those who submit works to this group because we're looking for your titles to help inspire us. Which, of course, means that your work will be listed in our descriptions with a link to it and your profile, so the 102 people who viewed the first poem I wrote following this method are incredibly likely to view the pieces used to compose that poem - bringing you more exposure. And isn't that what we like? To have our works seen? After all, that's why we share them!

All of this rambling has come down to the point of this feature: pieces of found poetry inspired by this community initiative. Enjoy, and feel free to spread love all the way down the tree!

  Plucking SummerA robin plucks
Nanking cherry blossoms
in the summer breeze.
  (your) hearti reached your heart,
little sparrow,
your inkwell heart;
(and) love can be a touchy subject
(because) we don't know how to dream...
...(but) it's about time we try


lacunae of longing, loftiness of wordsinked and reaching, this is my remembrall flesh
and if we were to never speak again
you'll find the rest of my bones in the graveyard eaten by a dream
         i hear knives in the wind and earth inside me
survival is a balancing act-
         a selection of extrasensory impulses
         a fracture in late august  
         a week of kisses
         sunday skeletons
         and i am crying out for time not yet lost
when stars collapse,
the sunshine shaking heart of the universe will burn with me
while looking for a silver lining in the sea
         on the edge of nowhere laughter speaks with death
         about maps not meant for following
when i think about you, i remember it all wrong
maybe you were just a hit and run
         strange how the mind fades o
  To the girl teaching herself to fly:To the girl teaching herself to fly:
don't promise me tomorrow.
When you look at me, tell me what you see:
autumn's warmth?
approaching spring?
anechoic screams? a misty morning
looking for signs of winter?
This is summer;
soft blue trees,
silent evenings,
rustles in the wind.
Here, at the end of all things,
it started with two fish kites--
(in)different of weather and season
you heard my voice,
my childish wish
(still, secrets remain;
I can't stand the rain or
the Berkeley sky).
But to you,
only sky is the limit;
you were always like a tidal wave.
So don't wait up for me--
don't bother.
  Atlas, bittersweetYes, all women
mourning constellations
carry this home, (whichever way that is).
Broken, but together,
postmarked desolate
and rounded with sleep,
he, star studded,
whispers "do I dare?"
When it is time for our gods to die
sunrise, left behind,
grows wings.


<da:thumb id="449291268"/>  The sound of an approaching train282 days into the year
and I’m still not living, lost
in this urban ballet, this city
of blinding lights. We knew
a place where no cars can go,
where even the crickets
couldn’t be heard - fifty one miles
down an old country road, where the wildflowers
grow like frilly laces, moonblossoms
tearing through the earth.
You could feel the sky in your
thought out gaze, ignoring the stars
and drifting into five am on velvet
waves just about to break.
We don’t go there anymore.
This thing between us set
the night on fire but it only lasted
a little while. I still have that fire
smoldering in my ashtray heart, but
flowers aren’t apologies. You’ve endured
so many storms that you became one – I wore you like a bruise.
I’ll be on the next train to Vegas, dreaming
about photographs from another time.
Love is a smoke made from the fumes
of sighs – may as well buy another
pack. My lungs are empty anyway.
  When you dream sanity bleedsI Remember
The color of lost things;
like red beaches
or newly formed snow
and scarecrow fires.
On the wings of a dream,
counterfeit smiles
and castles of cardboard
existing for the moment.
Every night,
for lack of a better way
forgeting
I am a child
Kissed with nightshade
The death within life;
The other side of you.
If I wanted could I open up your ribcage?
Broken is better;
Seared lungs sing sweeter.
If I had a breath you'd steal it.
And so it is...
to whom I call
Foolish fool
the victim of smiles;
have you ever questioned
The Human Affliction?
The Prayer of the broken hearted;
The ghosts of the past,
in the land of war;
in the maze of lies,
in plain sight I hide them:
Monsters with human faces.
The seaside of broken dreams.
If these are to be my last words,
leave your past behind.
Just Let Go.
Follow me.
I am...
The Nightmare Man.


blackletter titleblackletter title
The Robot
was waiting,
hearing half of a conversation,
self portrait in the fog.
Time to read a little story
in others' voices,
just for fun.
A time before sunrise
wh
  Dance backwards, darlingA confession:
    ma, there are seahorses dancing in the library
Autumn has come to my hometown.
Today; cool, clear and sunny--
April, a stuttering fool.
3am, and kings slumber;
Sunday falls heavy,
eyes wet with gasoline.
  life, love, and all that jazzmy body is an accident;
you've got blood on your hands
(i think it's my own)
and i'm learning
the world will only love you
when you want to die -
there are no easy ways to say
so this is goodbye;
this is the last piece
i ever write about you,
or anyone.

here's to
the things we leave behind,
in the distance, fading
(summer ends tomorrow)
 
dear october,
here's nine reasons why you should
never look over your shoulder;
for once in my life, i know
the truth about forever -
 
it's in the little things.

And a slightly different take on it:








Random Plugs:



  • Feel like testing out some of your creativity? Let your mind wander freely and answer Mrs-Durden's question - tell her why you were arrested.
(Disclaimer: this is a fictitious scenario. Though if you feel like getting something off your chest, that's up to you. ;))

  • :iconamateurartistarmy: is hosting a contest: Think Spring Contest. It ends on April 30th, so entries need to be in quickly! Prizes include points, free art, comments and detailed critiques, as well as a feature from yours truly (and yes, I'll be submitting it to several groups so people see your art!)


Comments35
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cality's avatar
Thank you for including my piece here! :)

I agree - if a title sounds interesting, I'm much more likely to click on it. :la: