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Thread: Subject Poetry Contest.

  1. #61
    Inexplicably Undiscovered
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    { I don't know about the dancing in, but it is about pain. . .}

    For Medicinal Purposes Only

    The pharmaceutical potentates gain
    points with an endless game versus pain,

    cranking out pricey capsules by the millions,
    racking up sharp profits by the billions,

    propping up ads whose tiny print occludes
    the fearsome side effects each dose includes.

    As alternatives to bait-and-switchery,
    home brews bubble just north of witchery:

    woodland herbs and blooms and backyard botanics
    to snub corporate chemicals and mechanics.

    Such irksome ailments as warts or bunions
    may meet their banes in garlic and onions.

    The nagging malaise which a callus hardens on
    could soften with balm from the wort of St. John.

    A sagging libido, with its play stopped at “fore,”
    recruits a concoction to make it rise, shoot, and score.

    Strange-smelling roots set a-boil in a pot
    might spark a desired pregnancy (or not.)

    When acres of crops, planted by folksy lore,
    harvest sad failure, we're still mad and sore.

    With scripted pills and discount drugs in bins
    we fight on and on. But pain always wins.

  2. #62
    Not politically correct Pendragon's Avatar
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    End of February will be closing time for this contest. Still time to join in the fun.
    Some of us laugh
    Some of us cry
    Some of us smoke
    Some of us lie
    But it's all just the way
    that we cope with our lives...

  3. #63
    Bibliophile JBI's Avatar
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    I'll be writing one soon, though it will be horribly different from the current entries - how is the voting going to go?

  4. #64
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    The fateful wind



    Fury,
    In all his dimensions,
    Carouses
    Acridly
    In the deep night
    To get his bearings.
    He beats on the absent milk pans,
    Straightening out his auditory senses
    And adjusting his course.
    He whips on ,
    Up the narrow streets,
    Rain whistling too near his features.
    Suddenly afraid of the slivering shadows
    That stretch out in prisms --
    They conduct him through
    Some sudden onslaught
    And turbulent tumult,
    Stronger than turpitude,
    Deadlier than dynamite.
    The fray will subside
    But only after he is gone
    And immemorially forgotten,
    To be summoned back
    On some unknown miserable chance.
    "It is not the rich man you should properly call happy, but him who knows with wisdom how to use the blessings of the gods, to endure hard poverty, and who fears dishonor worse than death, and is not afraid to die for cherished friends or fatherland."

    - Horace

  5. #65
    Not politically correct Pendragon's Avatar
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    lucid is the winner of this contest. Congrats!
    Some of us laugh
    Some of us cry
    Some of us smoke
    Some of us lie
    But it's all just the way
    that we cope with our lives...

  6. #66
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    A letter to my Brother

    you are the flower of Eden
    Please always do leave in my Heart
    I request the wind that blows
    To touch you with my Warmth

    please write your comments

  7. #67
    Falling down like an omen lucidnightmares's Avatar
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    wow.
    thanks alot Pen, wasn`t expecting that.
    haven`t been on in the longest time.
    sorry for that.
    ok um...so the next is
    "a feather on my heart of lead"

    what i used to be will pass away and then you`ll see that all i want to know is happiness for you and me...

  8. #68
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    Feather on my Lead Heart

    The ranks drew in along the march.
    We forded a slatted bridge that hedged
    The slanted eye of the horizon.
    Among the cliffs, our company wedged.

    Once past the rocks, bean fields extended.
    We hoped to cross the green unharassed,
    But suspended our breaths when the glen came alive
    And we traded fire in the morass.

    When the sun had faded pale we garnered our retreat.
    The youngest soldier of my men lost his fight this time:
    All that was left with his effects was a lead heart locket
    On a chain that bore the legend "Peace" in a serrated rind.

    The residual seemed a weary load to send back to Mother.
    I propped his clothes in to a crate but before I closed it up
    I placed in a feather from the hawks in the canyon
    That had swallowed the cliff face shut.
    "It is not the rich man you should properly call happy, but him who knows with wisdom how to use the blessings of the gods, to endure hard poverty, and who fears dishonor worse than death, and is not afraid to die for cherished friends or fatherland."

    - Horace

  9. #69
    Falling down like an omen lucidnightmares's Avatar
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    great poem alakungfu, would have never suspected that one.
    looking forward to judging this

    what i used to be will pass away and then you`ll see that all i want to know is happiness for you and me...

  10. #70
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    I agree, Lucid, that the first posting for your chosen subject is a good one, but could you please tell the rest of us when the deadline is ? ( As for the "feather" poem, I'm working on it, I'm "on" it, etc.)

  11. #71
    Skol'er of Thinkery The Comedian's Avatar
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    I'll toss my feather into this contest. . .

    A Feather on my Heart of Lead

    I killed those ducks with buckshot
    As they flew

    D
    O
    W
    N

    To land in the marsh for the night

    My blind was no blind at all: a fallen log near the shore,
    Giving me a clear lane to fire

    Pump!

    and fire again.

    Twenty gauge gun, lead shot: death now, death later.
    My dog didn’t care.
    Sundered feathers transfixed four-chambered pump with leaden grit and a spear of eiderdown.
    Nobody knew what hit ‘em.
    “Oh crap”
    -- Hellboy

  12. #72
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    Net Weight

    Among the rugged luggage that I've clutched
    a cudgel, rough and heavy as a grunt,
    makes tougher calluses on hands ill-dealt.
    A noncommittal poker mug occludes
    the ache from sticky grips. The better score
    I couldn't grab, not with this life-long schneid.

    The tickle of a feather’s wispy tip –
    how irksome and annoying when one’s hands
    are full! It’s pesky, like a tardy sneeze.

    Yet there’s a capacity for the risible,
    a soft spot for capricious balms:
    the lingering sibilance of a snappy song,
    a rustling bird who nestles in the brush –
    a light and airy cache easier to tote,
    its leather plushy, all swaddled in suede.

  13. #73
    Falling down like an omen lucidnightmares's Avatar
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    again 2 more great poems
    i`m almost scared to judge them
    as for the due date let`s say, April....11th sound good??

    what i used to be will pass away and then you`ll see that all i want to know is happiness for you and me...

  14. #74
    Loves Poetry Silven's Avatar
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    My attempt:

    A faint memory can thus posses,
    the crowning jewel of ones success,
    - life's trials are cruel, and quite unkempt,
    but force our hand to march for best

    and force us thus to take effect
    and peer with other brethren
    we form the links, with passing tests
    the chains that give our freedom strength

    but as for one - must be for all
    and break - a link does cause a roll
    bouncing where it may - this ball
    does damage down the line some more

    but whence you ask does lead strike heart,
    -when none is there to break ones strife,
    when heavy heart puts out the fire
    the world is driven by desire...
    ________________


    ________________

  15. #75
    Ruadh gu brath ampoule's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by alakungfu View Post

    The residual seemed a weary load to send back to Mother.
    I propped his clothes in to a crate but before I closed it up
    I placed in a feather from the hawks in the canyon
    That had swallowed the cliff face shut.
    I don't know if we are supposed to comment here but I just have to say this gave me chills. Your poem reminded me of the wonderful novel by Geraldine Brooks, March.
    I'm in love with The Vinegar Man and Mr. Tanner, but be careful, it could just as easily be you.

    "If you're going to write you better have somewhere to come from." Flannery O'Connor

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