Picture Poetry Contest (...continued...)

[Petrarch's Love]

Hello all, and welcome to the new Poetry Contest thread. This is a continuation of the much loved old thread, which any interested parties can look through here: http://www.online-literature.com/for...ad.php?t=17115

For any newbies, here's a list of the rules describing how this works:

1. The winner from the previous round will select a picture for the next round and set an appropriate deadline date for submissions (usually about two to three weeks has worked out well). The same person who selects the picture is also the judge for that round.

2. Participants then write a poem inspired by what they see in the picture for that round and submit the poem in a post to the thread before the deadline date.

3. Only one poem per person may be submitted for judging in each round.

4. The judge for each round is responsible for posting when the deadline has been reached and the contest is closed to any new submissions for that round. He/she is then responsible for selecting a winner in a (hopefully) timely fashion.

5. Once the judge for that round has posted the winner, then it is that winner's turn to select the new picture and act as judge for the next round. (Traditionally judges have given brief feedback to all participants in addition to selecting a winner).

6. This contest is designed for the purposes of having fun and exercising our poetry skills. The only prize offered is the pride of winning and the fun of getting to select the next picture and act as judge. The greatest reward, however, has proven to be the enjoyment of improving one's own poetry and the chance to read the really great contributions of others here. So join in, and have fun!

[Petrarch's Love]

O.K. first order of business for the new thread has to be a BIG thank you to Auto for all the hard work you did as judge for the last round. I personally, of course, am also very, very flattered to have been selected the winner out of all those talented submissions. Thanks so much! The way things have been moving around this contest, I anticipate a very difficult job as judge in the next round (no doubt I, like Auto, will become so captivated by everyone's poetic prowess that I'll be left with stacks of unmarked papers mocking me).

And now, here's the picture for the first round of the new thread. It's an image that's been overwhelmingly in my mind of late because it's April, the month when "longen folk to goon on pilgrimages" (and that's the only hint I'll give as to what this depicts). The deadine for this round of the contest is set for April 27th. Best of luck everyone!

[mir]

Yay! It's up again!

Congrats to Petrarch for winning the last competition. That was a wonderful poem.

[ktd222]

Congratulations, Petrarch! Your poem reminds me of Blake's "London." It really adds a nice effect.

I wandered through each chartered street,
Near where the chartered Thames does flow,
A mark in every face I meet,
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

In every cry of every man,
In every infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forged manacles I hear:

How the chimney-sweeper's cry
Every blackening church appals,
And the hapless soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down palace-walls.

But most, through midnight streets I hear
How the youthful harlot's curse
Blasts the new-born infant's tear,
And blights with plagues the marriage-hearse.

[Petrarch's Love]

Thanks Mir, and thanks ktd. I'm honored to be compared with Blake.

[Adolescent09]

Congrats Petrarch for winning the previous poetry contest. Autocylus' decision for picking you is quite understandable. That was a great poem you wrote and this is a very interesting picture you've posted for the next contest.

[AdoreroDio]

Here's my entry (what a gorgeous picture by the way)hope you like:

Here the is Heaven


Fingers glide, smoothing, etching
chisels, hammers, all moving
a painters brush dips again
brought up to the ceiling
ladders reach to the topmost part
the last detail not forgotten
handcrafted glass windows
shine shifting colors
across the floor
each raised to the top
to finish the masterpiece
tiny knives cut detailed sculptures
bringing beauty to life
sculptures of intricate design
long thought out and practised
hundreds of artist work togethor
to bring one man's visions to life
finally finished the creater steps back
the sight, breathtaking
this time he knows he has created
exactly what he hoped
a little piece of heaven
intricate and beautiful
so that one could stare at it
and never want ot leave
for here there is peace
here there is beauty
here there is heaven

[Virgil]

Oh what happened to the old thread? Do threads reach a limit?

edit: I guess they do.

Congratulations Petrarch. A really nice poem.

I did not read them all but of the ones I read I must say I really liked Drama's poem.

[Petrarch's Love]

Virg.--Logos just thought the old thread had gotten too long and was especially cumbersome and confusing for new people to read through. You can still read the last few posts there to see what went on at the end though. edit: Thanks for the congrats too, Virg.

And thanks to Adolescent for the congrats and to AdoreroDio for the first great entry for this round.

[Adolescent09]

...........

[Pendragon]

Congradulations on the last win, Petra! Wonderful picture! Here's my attempt.

Shades of Grey, Fans of Fate

They come here with bowed heads,
In humbleness
Seeking for something
Beyond themselves.
They keep their eyes glued
To a marble floor,
Make the Sign of the Cross
And send aloof a prayer.
Have they never seen
What lies above them all,
The fans that make the pattern
That lines the skylight?
In shades of grey,
Light and dark—
So very much like
What goes on inside—
The struggle within them?
Nothing in this world
Is carved in stone,
Black and white,
It’s just the way things are.
The fans' circular patterns
Tell the tale
“The truth shall set you free.”
But first you have to look up
Take a chance and behold
How the shades of grey
Focus your vision
Upon the center,
A colorful prize.
There is hope beyond hope—
There is joy beyond tears—
There is life when death comes calling—
Shades of grey,
Wiggle room—
If you can believe beyond all that you see:
At the center of the Fans of Fate
A Prize awaits you…

Pendragon
© 4/8/07

[Logos]

Virg.--Logos just thought the old thread had gotten too long and was especially cumbersome and confusing for new people to read through.

Thanks for re-starting it PL; yes, threads will start being closed around 25 pages for a bunch of reasons but mostly for manageability purposes

[kandaurov]

I must say, after reading the already posted poems related to this picture, I'm positively intimidated by them, and slightly insecure of my own writing. No joking, no phony flattery. You guys are good at this, I'm just glad I've joined this forum.

Well now. My shot at it:


It's immense
(ly grand).

Immersed in perfection,
result of interaction
between genius and idle hands
(why would one wonder
at the beauty of things
if one was not rendering oneself
useless?)

There it is,
up high,
where human beings are not allowed.
We were not given wings.
We were not given anything;
we created love, and hate,
and all the shades of feeling
in between.

We created this,
this mesmerizing hymn to symmetry
this sage, century-old, all-seeing circle
mercilessly judging who is fit
to look it in the eye.

He are grand, as grand as it,
As grand as all the things in every earthly land
Built by beings such as ourselves.
We didn't have wings, we created them
And so we can fly, soaring high
even higher than the scrupulous, hideous, monstrous ceiling
envying us with all its feeling.

[Adolescent09]

even higher than the scrupulous, hideous, monstrous ceiling

I thought the ceiling was gorgeous.. Did you mean anything in specific by labeling it monstrously hideous?

[kandaurov]

Noticed how I initially praised it? The idea is to make a thing so neutral and unchangeable as a painted ceiling seem magnificent first and then, after pondered reflection, a mean, threatening thing. As if we, humans, are Frankensteins, and this ceiling is our monster. The last part of the poem acknowledges both the lyrical subject's fear provoked by the grandeur of the ceiling and also his/her belief that it is envious of the human condition, for it could not have existed on its own, while the human race does not only exist, but improve itself, and create other things, much like a deity.

In short, after perception the ceiling is one thing, after reflection, another