Subject Poetry Contest.

[Silven]

Autolycus, yes your poem is a clear winner here.

You had my vote from the time I read it but didn't want to influence the judgment.

And AuntShecky, I loved your three line verses, which gave the poem great melodic overtones, and separated its nature from the norm - which worked well with the light your poem shed on the humble guitar.

Great efforts by all.

I look forward to submitting an entry for "someone steps out from the shadows onto a cold winter street..." - A great, visual starting point.

[AuntShecky]

Slant

When city streets are wet at just past dusk,
their lamps reflecting danger and romance,
the sidewalk catches strides both slow and brisk
as night arrives with darker ambience.
Then, unannounced the temperature drops.
It fronts the water with a knife-thin cloak.
The shore lights shimmer down in frosty drips
on the river's replies, winking like a clock.
Some footsteps echo like stinging slaps
against such chill, bone-deep cold won't compare.
On changing shadows uncertainty slips--
do secret allies or unknown foes conspire?
They could conceal a guerdon of golden grace
or hide a threat, insidious as black ice.

[autolycus]

Whoa, AuntShecky! Beautiful images and half-rhymes there...

Plenty of time left; let's hope to see more excellent poetry!

[Pendragon]

Solitude

His cardboard box is all that he has ever known,
With newspapers for blankets to keep out the snow,
Perhaps he had different life before, but memory is gone
He hugs his bottle trying to drown out his nightmarish foe
His lunch came from the dumpster behind the usual place,
No breakfast this morning for this forgotten soul.
He’ll take dinner at the mission if he can find a space,
Sermon and soup and crackers to help body and soul.
He dreams of better things lying there in the dark,
One ear always open for people will even rob the destitute.
His small fire has died down to just a fragrant spark—
What keeps him going sometimes he wishes that he knew.
But now he hears the jingling pockets and approaching feet,
So someone steps out from the shadows onto a cold winter street…

Pendragon
© 12/20/08

[Silven]

A cold and quiet city night,
A restless mood - the vampire’s bite
A haze is cut by moons blue light
To offer you a dim lit sight

Buildings buttress from cobble streets
Foundations built from stone & brick
And rise beyond what you can see
You think – “the devils walking stick”.

But down here now sight aggregates
The chap of a lighter illuminates
A scarred face is offered break
From shadows that envelope sake

Light goes out, now a red glow
Lifted to face the burning ember grows
And smoke swirls round as think as dough
A man begins to move now, slow

[autolycus]

Contest is closed... I will spend this weekend working on it!

[autolycus]

Hi there!

Only three entries this time, but I liked each of them, for very different things.

'Slant' (by AuntShecky) has probably the best use of language of the three. It was chilling and exact, like a scalpel's edge. The half-rhymes were well done, and the image conjured was romantic in its foreboding.

'Solitude' (by Pendragon) is probably the most humanly intense of the three. The psychological word-picture, the feel and taste of the atmosphere — these are especially strong in the poem, with a sense of loneliness and loss.

Silven's poem is one that is almost cinematic. It reminds one of vampire movies, of a kind of Batman's Gotham City, and then it zooms down towards the lead character. I liked the movement, and the ambiguity of many of the lines.

=====

All that said, I'm going to go with Pen's poem 'Solitude'. The edge it had over its beautiful competitors was, I think, the sheer sense of humanity that ought to go with the idea of 'someone' — a person who is nameless but still has a clearly-defined self. It was not an easy choice!

Pen, congratulations, and it's your term to propose a subject!

[Pendragon]

Thanks, Auto

Let's see...

"pain dances in like an intimate friend..."

[Silven]

Decided to remove my entry. Sorry.

[Pendragon]

Come on, people, one poem does not a contest make. Skilled you are. There is no try...

[NickAdams]

Algo Lagain


I removed my slacks
and slacked my briefs.
In brief, I stood exposed.
So my caretaker,
dear caretaker,
could throwaway my clothes.

she said a word,
I disagreed,
she commanded me,
"On your knees,"
I disagreed,
for I had not reached a word.

We deliberated briefly,
before i whispered in Her ear
and later when i would repeat the word
She would say She didn't hear.

Behold the pine-implement,
behold he exposed,
behold a pale flog,
O! a bottom's glow.

[Pendragon]

Decided to remove my entry. Sorry.

Was it something I said?

[NickAdams]

It took me an hour to come up with that poem, so there could be more than one entry.

[Silven]

Not at all Pen'.

You may have noticed, that poem looked a little out of place for the title of your contest. In fact I wrote the poem years ago, and your title reminded me of it.

The reason I removed it was because that poem is very special to me, and I actually did not want it judged.

I will try and re-submit something soon.

[lucidnightmares]

pain dances in like an intimate friend
familiar and sadly comforting
lost in my own wick world of pretend
tear me from the smiles facade

let my pain show through
for all of them to see
give way to the taboo
of despairs embrace

the memories fade
and light grows soft
no longer afraid
no longer afraid...