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

[Dark Muse]

Thank you, and congrats, I really enjoyed your poem, a well deserved win.

[DanielBenoit]

Here it is.

http://neosmart.net/gallery/d/5841-2/Death+and+Desolation.jpg

[Pendragon]

The Watcher

The watcher stands high on the cliff face
Overlooking Crater Lake and Wizard Island below
The watcher is bent and twisted by the decades
Of solitary fortitude in performance of duty
The watcher stands tall and silent for the most part
But when the wind works as accompanist
The elderly tree whispers secrets of bygone ages,
Of all that is, that has been,
And even glimpses into what is yet to come…

Pendragon
© 1/19/10

[DanielBenoit]

First poem, yay :D


Deadline is on the 30th. Sound good?

[Dark Muse]

Spirit of the Land

Untouched purity
captivates the soul
and propels the mind
into the embracing solitude,
as echoes carry across the mountains
their songs speak of legends
which are whispered within each
ripple of the water, for faces which begin
to fade away into the mist, and watching eyes
from those who touched the spirit of the land
knowingly with quiet reverence,
now preserved with the passage of time.

A thousand stories which can be read
into the changing landscape,
the passage of the seasons
altering natures course,
winter's encompassing touch
erases the memories of a passing year
heals scars and conceals old wounds
to make virginal once more in its glistening
white touch, and soon to melt away
into new life reborn free from the collective sorrows.

Beauty which entrances and transcends
beyond human thought
to touch the pulse beneath the land,
listen to the Earth's heartbeat,
and feel the passage of the spirits
in the bone-numbing cold of
winter's fog, they know you
even if you have forgotten.

[Albion.]

Abandoned By The Light

Peeping around the tree, i see a union of evil sea and evil shore.
No chance of escaping, no chance of departing this desolate destination
The jagged rocks at my feet cut to my souls core
Devoid of colour, no green, tangerine or carnation

The trees branches, like witches fingers
Casting evil upon the land.
The fog, that fills the air always lingers.
At the shore no tiny gold crystals of sand

The only music this place has known
is the most melancholic of a durge.
The only sound is the trees low drone and groan,
Unlike other waters this cannot purify only purge

This could be the very coast
that is patrolled my Charon.
The air is haunted, by lingering lamenting ghosts
who glide along the water like a smooth satanic swan

The sea and sky both hollow,
Like a murderers eyes and soul
This land has been abandoned by both Apollo
And Sol

[qimissung]

a place to be, to exist,
this is my spendrift quest;
A place from which to
watch the sun rise and set, and
pirate dogs and whales cavort
to feel the wind lay back in my arms,
her cloudy hair hanging down, trailing like fertile damp and portent tendrils

and sailing on a downdraft
inhaling exilaration
I found it, looming
over the sea's riotous waters,
balancing precariously on the border
of the wilderness and dreams
from this spot I wandered freely in my brown monk's robe
rescinding the sensual pleasures that most demand
I turned my mind to the
healing of their souls

it was here that I fought my
nemesis in a battle that lasted eons
as my tortured thoughts
wandered on the midnight stormy moors
I thrashed my head in bitter, futile terror at the loss of self,
my desolate soul raging against the
night and the churning sea

there was no refuge
from the hawk like swords and feral rain
my enemy unleashed upon me
skies so grey that nothing grew
earth thought it was the night
and cowered
bunching up her crinoline skirts
until it threatened to tear my home
from its iron bound roots

I had grown so that my fingertips could gently brush
the tears from the moons' gibbous eye
my feet the while curling round the
river styx
and in the folds of hubris that wind round
me like swaddling clothes
or a shroud
I beat back the storm of
my insanity and dear despair
and when morning came
then she did thread her rosary through my lank hair

thus blessed I left open
the door, let the malachite fountain of
life find me, weaved a leafy thicket with
another, and sometimes,
in our dreadful conjoining, felt,
as her hand touched mine,
as we lay resting from one recondite battle or another, watching the moon
toss handfuls of bright confetti
on the waters at her feet

sometimes, then, I feel
between the two of us,
a great quiet, an acknowledgement of the martello tower
wherein is locked away from the four winds that
roam the earth
that which we call our hearts
it falls on us, like night and snow on places that
had once been bare

Qimissung

[qimissung]

By the way, DanielBenoit (so much fun to say :D) congratulations on your winn. I really liked your poem. I laways love those gritty urban modernist poems. I thought I caught a little whiff of James Joyce when I read it. Good one. I especially liked:

"I've injected herion on 3rd Avenue
But never on 5th, I'm not ready for fifth"

so random. Anyway, congrats!

[DanielBenoit]

Hmmm, time's almost up. We should really set shorter deadlines, because what usually happens is that everybody posts their poems within a few days and then, silence, and everybody forgets.

[ampoule]

The thirtieth??? Yikes! That's today! I printed the picture and have been carrying it around to get the feeling of it. ;) I agree that shorter deadlines might be good.

[qimissung]

I hear what you are saying, but this contest was less than two weeks long. I, myself, have posted poems in the last days and hours of a contest for a variety of reasons, but mostly because of time constraints and/or a reluctance/lack of confidence in tackling the material. Maybe a month is too long.

[DanielBenoit]

Okay, here we go:

Pendragon - I loved the use of words and images, but the repetition of "the watcher" and the coldness of it was not to my tastes. That said the final line really stuck with me.

Dark Muse - Some really sublime imagery here. I knew when I posted the picture that it would probably resonate with you for one reason or another. You captured the naturalistic intensity of the picture as well as the pantheistic feeling I got from the picture. This was a top-runner.

Albion - I noticed that you seem to be new here, so I would first like to say, welcome to the forums :D While I liked a lot of the lucid description, I think it treats the wilderness presented in the picture as some kind of hell, as oppose to the strangely pagan-like atmosphere that Dark Muse presented in her poem.


And the winner is. . . . . .

qimissung - No it wasn't her bribing compliments that got me (:p) but her supremely excellent and beautiful poem. Like Dark Muse's it capture's the essence of what I was looking for in the photo, but even more so with such vividly beautiful and gorgeous description. I especially loved the quiet begining, and then the catastrophic intensity of the latter half. Such a wonderous use of natural metaphors and descriptions! I love it.

[Pendragon]

Congrads, Qimi! :):):)

[qimissung]

Thank you, Pendragon! :) And thank you, DanielBenoit. Everyone's poem was good, imho.
So, I'll find a good picture and hopefully get it posted in the next day or so.

[qimissung]

http://www.artisspectrum.com/images/stories/22profiles/gideon%20spiegel_trapped2.jpg

[qimissung]

The artist who created the above picture is Goodash. Happy writing. I'll give everyone until February 19 to write.

[Dark Muse]

Memorykeeper

Memories erode with time,
turning to rust around the edges,
worn away and painfully dissolving
into crumbling fragments
which absorb damp musty smells
of decay from those dead places
they begin to fade into.

Impressions yet remain,
never fully erased,
peering out with glowing eyes,
faintly crying into still nights

as ghosts they appear,
only projections of the mind.

Still like the scent of tobacco
they linger, seeping deep
into cracks, spreading
across the walls.

Attached to abandoned rooms
as the corridors of the mind
you try to close,

but they
those faltering requiems
will not forget nor be forgotten,
tarnishing around the rims,
figments remain entrapped.

Every grain of dust sheds
another piece of the dead.

[Babyguile]

The House We Played In
In Roma, Italia during World War II

The house we played in was a spinning world
of seas, deserts, beaches, trees.
Upon whose shrine we did pass time, and space,
for what seemed like an eternity. My maternity
was lost in that single house on the street.
Where I would swim towards the reef
for a glimpse of starfish, and he would
dive for pearls, for pinky swirls, shiny shells,
and slip so deliberately through the journey in his mind
back to our shrine, feigning exhaustion.
Almost honest, we'd pretend we'd toured all of Rome.
Saw the Coliseum, the Vatican, the catacombs.
The Sistine was our nightly dream, oh! what a place to see!

Outside, mortar and missiles were the bloody pulse of the city.

With no food, we played like this to pass all time.
Semi-sincere, we'd enjoy the taste of oregano and pesto,
pasta and thyme, and when we were done, sip wine.
Shunning our juvenility: we were who we wanted to be.
A chameleon in the Sistine, at once heavenly white
then sophisticated gold. All the colours of the rainbow.
Like this, limitless, until one day, we suddenly had to bite awake -

For all of us, ourselves, wore numbers on our heads too. So few
of us had known the price of one, a single German, gone
in some far-off nearby land. Away from his
Motherland. And how all relief is really only fear
behind a white veil, waiting to assail
teetering towers for holding sway against seas, against gale.
And all of us, hoping only to scope the ornate ceiling of heaven.

He and I endured, we matured and
procured, so that when the taste of guns in our
mouths blew our minds, shards of veil danced in the
empty spaces of grey air, landing fair, and deliberately
on the stair of the house we played in.

*

And we exist, still, beyond the facade, beyond our grave
of wood and rusty steel, up here, on the heavenly
roof of the Sistine Chapel, painted in gold for eternity.

[The Comedian]

I'll throw my hat into the ring with this little number:

FeO(OH), Fe(OH)3

Rust reduces iron and steel
to a fine brown or red dust.

Water is the villain here.
Fe loves O so much
that he robs her twice over from H.
And the villain is quartered by a natural lust.

But perhaps I blame water too much.
Water's like us; we do what we must.

Take a look at the wooden cross.
Fungi can only eat the skeletal fibers
Within each board if they've first been made moist.
A brief rain and they'll eat the cross to dust.

Without water, crosses would last forever
And iron would never rust.

I don't know about that old picture
Of those two young women
Hugging in the FeO(OH), Fe(OH)3
Behind the future sawdust.

I think they're just memories.
And memories, I never trust.

[Alexander III]

O' lone keeper of forgotten ages,
Your hues shall stand Time's harsh hand,
Forever holding the secret of friendship-
Which was ripped from me, with mortal nonchalance.
Adorned with gilded rust and decay,
No Man or God can slay ye virtue,
Your life of color shall fade
Your faces shall rot into death;
Yet your heart shall outlive us all.

[qimissung]

Oh my God! I'm gone for a few days and come back to this, this wealth of gorgeous words and ideas and imagery. Everyone of these is a beautiful contender.

My friends, I think we have a contest.

[Pendragon]

Memories of a Moment in Time

Sepia-colored flesh tones on that picture of us,
Taken all those many years ago
Now somehow it seems carved into stone,
When Chaos has framed that moment we shared…
Is the stone carved in the actual factual world,
Or is the moment just engraved in my mind…
Of how lovely you looked and how young we were
Back in a happier time
I’ve brought you more flowers and I’ll spend time with you,
Whispering words I know you love to hear—
But it is hard being alone and though tear-filled eyes
I see our picture engraved on your tombstone…

Pendragon
© 2/5/10

[DanielBenoit]

The First Signs of Frost

My son art thou to write a face unto
The pillars of a dream forgot? as to her
I say that my forgetful love hath threw
Her ruins and sickled o'er dry tubers.
She hath cleansed the tide and sweet melody
within its sweet tune and time. Never
Shall the tide wash up upon sand's grody
Carcass and sweep the winds morever.

The Tao that can
be told,
has not been
told
the name
e
.

[qimissung]

I feel like a kid on Christmas morning! Pendragon, Daniel, just beautiful...

[Albion.]

I see our reflection everywhere,
even in the flame red copper.
It prevents people from entering our old abode
but out of it the memories have always flowed.

Nothing could seperate us here, even now in my memory
the wooden cross cant keep us apart.
You still cross over into my arms
as we protect each other from all harms

The vision of us two,
returning to me like the phoenix
from the flames.
The hole in top left corner
reminds me of the void in the life of this mourner.

[mazHur]

A Meeting with the Saint
mazhur

sent to stake
burnt alive
your ashes thrown
into the Seine;
you paid your debt
to your conviction
to your religion
your executors failed;
your words:
'If I am not, may God put me there;
and if I am, may God so keep me.'"
God honored;
you live in hearts,
like blood flowing
through the veins;
Saint Joan or
Joan of Arc
physically though
you are no more there
yet I can feel your presence
surreal be it
alongside the wooden fence
like a cross
at the cottage entrance
how blessed I feel
how fortunate
to kiss you
to hug you
to hold you in my arms
the National Heroine of France
the saint of the world,
in my dream!

[qimissung]

Thank You, Allbion and mazHur. Your entries are beautiful and touching.

[DanielBenoit]

Time's up qimi :p

[qimissung]

Ah, my impatient young friend, I have not forgotten or deserted this thread. The contest is now closed. I will return with the results shortly, by which I mean tomorrow, God willing.

[qimissung]

It was hard to make a decision on this. Partly that's my fault. I always want everyone to be happy. And these are good, all of them.

So, here goes.

A Meeting With the Saint by mazHur. I also love the passion of St. Joan, mazHur. I like where your leap of inspiration took you. I was especially take by the lines

"I feel your presence alongside the wooden fence like a cross at a cottage entrance..." I can so very clearly see St. Joan as a mass of wild iris.

Albion wrote "you cross over into my arms as we protect each other from all harms..."

I love the protective nature of the poem, the narrator, who is protective of both his (or her) memories and loved one.

Memories of a Moment in Time by Pendragon, a reflection of a life lived lovingly and sorrow for the loss. "...when chaos has framed the moment we shared...' how true is this! Don't we spend our lives trying to keep chaos at bay, carving out a little space and time to live and love?

AlexanderIII wrote of a friendship which was "ripped from me with mortal noncahalance...no man or God can slay ye virture...yet your heart shall outlive us all." The intangible will be what lasts forever.

Memorykeeper is by Dark Muse, and I love how this author followed every detail of memeories eroding from the opening sequence to the grim reminder of the final couplet:

"Every grain of dust sheds another piece of the dead." No one slay you with quiet words quite like Dark Muse.

The House We Played In is by TheDave. What I adore about this poem is the picture he paints of two boys playing through wartime Italy. How poignant the ending when they end up in the ceiling of their beloved Sistine Chapel.

The First Sign of Frost is by Daniel Benoit.The gorgeous imagery of that first line: "My son art thou to write a face unto the pillars of a dream forgot?" Wow.

But the winner is The Comedian with FeO(OH), Fe(OH)3. The line that clinched the deal: "Water's like us; we do what we must." Water, like man, like Shiva, the perfect destroyer.

Thank You all. It was a magnificent feast. Comedian, please chose the next picture for us.

[Pendragon]

Congrads, Comedian! A wonderful poem indeed!:grouphug:

[The Comedian]

Thanks qimissung! (I love your contest-in-review write ups, by the way) -- those were some great poems, all of them.

I'll get a picture up in the next day or two: I'm trying to decide between something goofy or something, well, not goofy.

[DanielBenoit]

Congrats Comedian! I loved the aphoristic simplicity of your poem.

[The Comedian]

Hello everyone. I've got the image ready for the next iteration of the contest. As with previous runs, I'll post the image below and wait for a few submissions to come in, then I'll establish a contest deadline.

Here's the image (featured is the Andromeda Galaxy, which is one of the most distant celestial objects visible by the unaided eye).

http://www.stargazing.net/ChrisBrankin/images/Deepsky/slides/M31%20The%20Andromeda%20Galaxy.jpg

[source: http://www.stargazing.net/ChrisBrankin/images]

[Dark Muse]

When a star falls.....

Caught in the glow of
all those watching dead eyes,
I wonder sometimes
do they dream of us
as we stare up into the
endless infinity of the sky,
which offers tokens of wishes
and unspoken possibilities,
when they sleep behind veiled
shadows do they wonder if among
us, their fallen comrades walk,
Earth as heaven for dead stars,
may the sky be our ethereal graveyard,
and we the souls who have fallen
for millions of miles below,
and burned out our lights
to live in envy of their heavenly glow,
as they weep across the galactic
planes for the lost who have forgotten
their former glory.

[free]

I'm here, and he is somewhere else
'Want to see him in the virtual space
To experience the feeling of being together
Marry me, I'll say, and let it be forever
An open proposal, if him I find.
Extra or not, does it really mind?
Terrestrial or not, as long as he is kind,
Human to human we are together,
Being together in love for ever.

[The Comedian]

Beautiful submissions Dark Muse and free.

[free]

Salute From a Friendly Star

I sleep by the window,
my head among the stars.
I dream, careless indeed
of the daily turmoils and deed.
I dream and smile:
on a sweet dream,
smiling, I fly.

Suddenly I startle
and open my eyes,
the body is still asleep
but the hand, stars
that contemplates,
contracts, without my awares,
following the shimmering
contracting of theirs.

Maybe someone from a distant star
waves to me, who lives so far,
and my clever hand
returns the salute.
Among the friends,
why shouldn't it be truth?

I must apologize for not reading the rules before posting my poems. I think, this one is the best among the three. So, it is my choice.

[The Comedian]

Let's give this about two more weeks -- lovely submissions so far! Due date: March 12, 2010.

[Pendragon]

Eyes in the Sky

The jewel-studded blackness of Space stretches to infinity
Keeping its secrets well hidden, its depths undiscovered
Humanity is but a speck in the flotsam and jetsam of forever
But on occasion, Eternity opens its unblinking eyes
Taunting us with glimpses of the vast unknown…

Pendragon
© 2/26/10

[free]

When I watch the stars
I remember:
above the photosphere's stream,
tiny particles swim.

Everything's unpredictable there,
for no calculations they care,
all that people can try
is to watch the sky.

At such an hour's bliss,
by a telescope we stand and kiss,
and whisper, passionately in love:
"I belong to you, and to these stars above."

[The Comedian]

Great work Poets -- there's still a week left for all others who would like to do a little linguistic star gazing.

free -- you have several wonderful poems here, but I double-checked the original rules for the contest and found this:


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

If you could, please select the star of the bunch (I couldn't help the pun) for contest's formal submission. If you like, you could post the other two on the general poetry forum. There seems to be a lively and active bunch there.

[BienvenuJDC]

from the heart of the light
bursting from the milky way
the life, the energy, the power
unseen in the time of day

full of purpose though unknown
the delicate design displayed
echos of light bellow throughout
the universe is frayed

the developed cosmic doughnut
of which we are but part
a greater scheme of things
of which there was a start

no one knows for sure these days
for a witness we are without
the origin of all these sparks
how they all came about

[hoope]

Out there you are
But in my heart you live

Though it's distance that makes us apart
But to meet we will soon be

I look up there in the skies
and know that you are fine

I look up high and wish you were
In my arms and with me

But we'll meet and will kiss
distance can't keep us apart !

[The Comedian]

BienvenuJDC & hoope

Beautiful submissions -- and it looks like the contest is on!

[free]

Great work Poets -- there's still a week left for all others who would like to do a little linguistic star gazing.

free -- you have several wonderful poems here, but I double-checked the original rules for the contest and found this:



If you could, please select the star of the bunch (I couldn't help the pun) for contest's formal submission. If you like, you could post the other two on the general poetry forum. There seems to be a lively and active bunch there.

Salute From a Friendly Star

[Revolte]

“A Million Souls”

A million and one souls,
So close and so far
Give winks of hello,
“We're not so apart”

Glazed by the heavens,
Shine twinkles of hope
Beyond our small earth,
These souls all elope

Love we don't show them,
They hold for us still
And pray that tomorrow,
Our wars will grow ill

For the stars are like us,
They love and they dream
So close and so far,
“Keep strong” with each wink

[The Comedian]

Beautiful entry Revolte -- heavens! this contest will be tough to judge.

[hoope]

You my life !

Whenever am alone
whenever am sad

whenever i miss you
i just look at the stars

whenever i want you
whenever i need you

whenever i miss you
i just look at the stars

As the stars shining
It's your eyes i see
And at the falling star
I make one wish
to just be with you again
For your my life

[The Comedian]

hoope -- the rule to the contest state that you can only submit one poem per picture, so just tell which one you want to me formally judge, and that's the one that I'll review.

Quick note: one more day left!

[The Comedian]

Hello guys,

I've been away for the past couple of days; I'll have the winner selected and the reviews up either tonight or tomorrow morning. Sorry for the delay!

[The Comedian]

Sorry for the delay everyone -- I've been a little busier than normal in real life, but I've got the results of our stellar contest. Thank you all for submitting. It was fun to read each entry.

Revolte "A Million Souls"-- I loved the five-count rhythm of your work and the lines "and pray that tomorrow,/our wars will grow ill" were my favorite --that whole stanza actually.

Pendragon "Eyes in the Sky": the poem leaves a short but lasting impression on me (sort of like a star). The phrase "flotsam and jetsam of forever" playfully hinted at the cosmic wreck of the big - kaboom. Lovely.

free "Salute from a Friendly Star"-- I loved the hope in this poem and, more importantly, how the parallel that you build between the stars and the narrator. The powerful line "why shouldn't it be the truth" testifies to the great power of small gestures of acknowledgment.

Dark Muse "When a star falls" -- I was struck by the phrase "dead eyes" to describe the star light; the cool, silver light of the night sky has always felt a little dead but animated to me too. Yours also plays with ideas of distance: while the stars themselves may be long dead, their light reaches us now and we, here, are in turn a sort of heaven for their light.

But the winner is BienvenuJDC for his untitled entry. The strongest part of the this poem, to me, was the narrator who uses the sky to speculate on ends and beginnings of things. The poem's light rhyme & the playful diction, "doughnut" and "sparks", brought humility and delight to this reader, a good paring. The poem also suggests of divinity, but doesn't dictate so that the reader could linger in the cosmic question.

So, BienvenuJDC, pick a picture!

EDIT: hoope -- unfortunately, I could not count your submissions as you entered two poems, while the rules state that you could only enter one. I noted this earlier in the thread when free made multiple submissions, and she then told me which one to formally judge for the contest.

[BienvenuJDC]

http://jurylaw.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/2007/04/17/fog_path_flickr_436176848_b0a500797.jpg

[qimissung]

Congratulations, Bienvenu! A fine poem.

[Dark Muse]

Congratulations, I quite enjoyed your poem.

[BienvenuJDC]

Thank you all for your congrats and comments. I have posted a picture to inspire you all. I would like to propose a deadline of April 7th at this point. This should give everyone enough time to consider the image and develop your thoughts and feelings. I hope to see a good response from everyone.

[Dark Muse]

I LOVE your image, cannot wait to come up with something for it.

[Dark Muse]

Reflections In the Morning Mist

I

Morning hush
a cold breath
stirring my reflections
through the misty veil.

II

I caught a glimpse
for a moment
of her face
and just like that
she disappeared
beneath the fog.

III

In the stillness
of the air
perched alone
as if at world's edge
voices sing
from the waters below
like a siren's song.

IV

With the shifting winds
behind the gray haze curtains
a way is set, a bridge in the gap
between two worlds.

V

Perhaps Avalon
awaits upon the other side
where she still dances
in spring rains
but that isle of
faerie specters
is a world for the dead.

VI

Here I stand alone
within the morning mist
hoping with fear
to catch a glimpse
of those far away
lands of myth.

VII

A whisper of sweet
good-byes to a fading
memory as the fog
falls again and conceals
my haunting dreams.

[BienvenuJDC]

A great start for this competition, Dark Muse...
Now we can only hope that some competition shows...
Thank you for your submission, and I'm glad that you liked the picture. I had picked about five pictures to choose from, but when I saw this one...well, it was automatically the one!

[Pendragon]

Bridge Over the River Styx

The other end of the bridge lies shrouded in fog
What lies just beyond is something I cannot see—
Heaven or Hell, something more, something less
To know with a certainty I must cross the bridge
Vaporous shapes seem to move in the mist,
Voices call out and beckon me on
Then shadows and ghosts wave me back from the edge
Whisper that the time is not yet and to resist
Any feelings that might turn my hand against myself
To hurry the crossing before the crossing over is due
My exit from life remains a unwritten time:
I am forbidden to cross the bridge today


Pendragon
March 17, 2010

[hoope]

hoope -- the rule to the contest state that you can only submit one poem per picture, so just tell which one you want to me formally judge, and that's the one that I'll review.

Quick note: one more day left!

Oh sorry i was busy .. didn't sign in much

Congrats BienvenuJDC. You deserve it you poem was great..

I will post my poem soon .

Good luck for all

[BienvenuJDC]

Oh sorry i was busy .. didn't sign in much

Congrats BienvenuJDC. You deserve it you poem was great..

I will post my poem soon .

Good luck for all

I look forward to seeing it...

[Babyguile]

Paths

The marriage of your ambition and doubt
builds a robust
bridge to nowhere.

Here on its narrow platform you stand:
recounting the vacant
vows of vacuity,

shimmering with a black anxiety
and weeping tears for your
lost potential.

You watch them falling, slow as marriage,
to hit the aisle of the bridge
like jealous confetti.

With no hope of anyone to hold your hand
along the zirconium ring of its
daunting arches.

But even the most burdened girder
can suspend over frothing waters.

And paths, made and mended
from the smallest lot of soil.

If only you would divorce your ambition from doubt
and immerse yourself in the free-flowing streams.

[hoope]

I hope i can come up with better than this but i really got exams and paper to think of ... Sorry for this humble submission. It all came at once when i saw the picture.. It's nyc i will save it and make a design carrying the winning poem .. That is a gift from me to whoever makes it -:smilewinkgrin:hehehe


And here is my poem.. Good luck for all !

Guide me through
Help me find the way

Hold my hand
and never let go

Let your love be my light
Let your will be my way

Stay for me
Stay with me
And don't vanish

For you’re my Hope
You make me strive

Through the Darkness
And through the mist

You knew we'd make it through
I knew we'd make it through

It's the love that makes us survive
To survive is to find the love.

[The Comedian]

Here's my submission

On the Practice of Modern Construction

Those painted iron rails
That crest and trough like waves
Were shipped from Mexico
By capitalist knaves.

Each picket is welded
To a base and a top,
Frozen in sectioned place
To begin and to stop.

It's hard to tell from here
But those weathered floor planks
Appear pressure-treated
In fabricated links:

Little groups, joining loops
Galvanized, synchronized
To make the new look old
And the sides harmonized.

It's not the touching
That brings us together:
The slouching mist and tree
Are just wood and weather.

Welds and nails, joists and joints,
Loggers and arsenic,
Chopping and injecting. . . .
Slow steps into the quick.

And here this empty bridge
Spans a piece of city
Park where we recreate
Home and community.

[Haunted]

Ghost Fog

1.

it was me
last night

just outside
your window

but deep inside
your dream


2.

on the snowy bank
trees have long dropped
their green overcoats

shadows of bare limbs
tightly entwined


3.

what happened next
will remain in the dream


4.

why...
the next day
always comes at
the wrong time


5.

dawn drifts in
loosely clad in a
lavish white sheet

feel it
...the fog

so soft yet
so corporeal
you can wrap your
arms around it

and that’s all
is left of
me


6.

if you don’t want to
be awakened so soon

and it’s not too late
to follow the dream

I’m here
on the other side
of the bridge...

[BienvenuJDC]

Tomorrow is the deadline. If anyone would like to post their poem you have until midnight of 4/6/10. Then after a couple days I will post the winner. Good luck!

We already have some fantastic entries. I have enjoyed them all. I love that everyone has a little different perspective. Thank you all for your efforts.

[mazHur]

http://jurylaw.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/2007/04/17/fog_path_flickr_436176848_b0a500797.jpg

Before you cross the bridge
of your worldly life
mind your steps carefully
lest under the burden of the knapsack
of your past deeds
that you carry on your back tips
and makes you lose your balance
tripping you on the way
or tires you up in the midst
of your journey to the other world-
the world of Celestial Justice;
If your good deeds
outweighed your evil acts
crossing the test bridge
would be like one step for you,
to make you the hero of the Canterbury Tales;
and if the matter turns out otherwise
your steps will lead you
to the cryogenic abyss of hell!
the mist, the fog, the haze, the blur
is just an illusion for the test of the Righteous!!
by mazHur

[BienvenuJDC]

http://jurylaw.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/2007/04/17/fog_path_flickr_436176848_b0a500797.jpg

Dark Muse
Reflections in the Morning Mist
I loved the way that you divided each section. That allowed me to take one small increment at a time. You brought such feeling into it...and I actually felt the cool mist on my face. A magnificent job making me WANT to cross the bridge, yet FEAR to cross it. Very comparable to Hamlet's soliloquy...
In the sixth stanza, I found that the words that you used (mist, glimpse, myth), while not actual rhyme, possessed a kinship. It was not too bound in the traditional pattern, yet they all belonged together.

Pendragon
Bridge Over the River Styx
I loved the theme, especially the title, for the picture inspired to me a crossing over. Again, there was the concept found in Hamlet's words..."To be or not to be". You did well to appeal to my senses of sight and sound, and then alluding to any other senses.

TheDave
Paths
Wow...a completely different perspective, a bridge to nowhere. I liked how you used the illustration of a marriage between opposing concepts, and how it leads to no destination. It inspires me.........deeply. I want to comment more, but I don't know how. Your poetry is truly as deep as what may lie beneath the fog. I especially like the way that you did not leave despair without solution.

hoope
{no title given} (which is okay)
Great style...liked the bold and the two line stanzas...
The first half of the poem is a plea for help (but laden with confidence that the request will assuredly be fulfilled). Sometimes what is not said is as important as what is said. Thank you for not defining the type of relationship between the Requester and the Savior, for it could be between lover, siblings, parent/child, God/follower. You allowed for the reader to make that definition in their own mind (which might change over time). You did well with the second half, giving the assurance found in faith in the other. I was intrigued and focused on the capitalization of Hope and Darkness, two different ideas...possible opposing, but the relationship between the two is still left to the reader.

The Comedian
On the Practice of Modern Construction
Ok, now I love the perspective on this one...however, since I have been working in a metal fabrication shop for the past four years, I cannot help but critique some minor details in my own mind. I will try my best not to though. (This piece is probably not galvanized though....because you typically can't paint galvanizing. It is probably Powder Coated....I'm typing this all with a huge grin on my face because of the irony of my position as a Project Manager in a weld shop...almost laughing now!) OTHERWISE...great job!!

Haunted
Ghost Fog
In dream land, an excellent new scope for this inspiration. I like the ambiguity of what is happening. It allows for the imagination to go and dream whatever it wishes. The lure here is not to death, but into the deepest realm of one's own mind and desires. The 'dawn' attired in the weather was a great illustration. I could almost feel the 'fog' as something to grasp.

mazHur
{no title given}
Good theme, however, I could not find a good rhythm or rhyme in which to read it. There were some great images and lines, but I had a hard time putting them together. Thank you for your submission.

My choice for the winner is yet to come...

[The Comedian]

Bien! You mean my poem clearly illustrates my tendency to make up a bunch of sing-songy bs! Usually I'm so much better at covering up this fact. :lol:

[BienvenuJDC]

Bien! You mean my poem clearly illustrates my tendency to make up a bunch of sing-songy bs! Usually I'm so much better at covering up this fact. :lol:

:smilielol5:
Okay....now I am rolling on the floor!! You would have had me believe that you fabricated that rail yourself even three years ago. I really enjoyed reading it though.

So...who here likes the suspense of waiting to hear who won? :yikes:

[BienvenuJDC]

Ok...Ok...

I chose Dark Muse... Excellent Job!!
I chose that poem, because I could actually feel and sense being there.

Everyone, great job...and thank you for your submissions.

[Dark Muse]

Oh wow, thanks a lot. It was a great photo you choose and I will have the next image posted asap.

[BienvenuJDC]

Oh wow, thanks a lot. It was a great photo you choose and I will have the next image posted asap.

I'm looking forward to a great photo. The worst part about the last round was that I couldn't write the poem....but now that I'm thinking about it....why couldn't I? Well, I will be posting a poem for MY picture. Disregard that one for this next round. Then I will post one for the next round.

Thanks again, DM!!

[Dark Muse]

I had a tough time on choosing what image to use, but this one gripped me above the others.


http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs38/f/2008/324/d/f/Gypsy_by_TearsOfEterinty.jpg

Deadline is pending

[Babyguile]

I'm SO pleased and chuffed with the comments I got for my poem BienvenuJDC that I almost don't care that I didn't win. But yes I still feel a twang of dissapointment, but then again that's rude as all poems were brilliant, and yes Dark Muse's particularly so.

...right, the new picture. It strikes me as being a fantasy image. She has a human form but there's something visibly sub-human about her. This is niche I might struggle with this but I will try to come up with something as meaningful as I can make it.

[The Comedian]

Congratulations DM! It was an excellent poem.

[hoope]

Me too am so pleased with the comment i got from BienvenuJDC and Dark Muse deserves it .. her poem was so perfect.. :)

Waiting for the new picture.. :D

[Haunted]

I enjoyed reading all the poems here and learned a lot.

Bien, thanks for the time to comment on my piece.

Dark Muse, congrats!

[Dark Muse]

Thank you all and the new image is posted on the previous page, I will post it again here so it does not get missed.


I had a tough time on choosing what image to use, but this one gripped me above the others.


http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs38/f/2008/324/d/f/Gypsy_by_TearsOfEterinty.jpg

Deadline is pending

[Pendragon]

The windows of the soul are outlined in kohl,
Blue shining stars in the universe of her lovely countenance
Shyly she hides behind the mystery of those eyes—
The longing sketched upon her face, the promise of true love
It seems so surreal that I sometimes wonder if this fair one is real
And waiting for me just behind the tapestry of the palms
It really sometimes seems, that it all is just a passing dream—
Dreams have a way of coming true and my true one waits…

Pendragon
© April 9, 2010

[Dark Muse]

Thank you for your wonderful first entry. I was quite excited to see your use of khol, I thought I was the only one to draw on that in poetry.

I tentivly set the dealine for May 5th.

[Revolte]

“Rangda”

Like modern day Rangda, your eyes seduce
My inner desire, to put lust to use.

But just like the scorn,
Of a black widows bite
I fear your intention's
Unveiled are a lie.

Though lie as you may, I cannot refuse
My inner desire, to put lust to use.

And when we first touch,
My lips will explode
While color is risen
From passion I bode.

So feel me aroused, my heart is due
To act on desire, and put lust to use.

[krymsonkyng]

haze of blue black hue
fade to a view of me and you
the two and how we grew
into a city
nerves and veins
into
wires and streets
connect the dots
high rise surprise, defiant eyes
mimic magpie's cries
tied to a fan of feathers
whether tethered tight
to starless nights
or free to fly past
our city's lights
I live in your beauty
like the birds in the park

[The Comedian]

Here's my submission

Fickle is the Fancy

Will you continue to look at me, please?
Fair skin, dark hair, black circles, white sclera:
You're a pose of contrasts. Metallic blue
Feathers reflected under masqera.

They airbrushed you. Can't you see? No face is
That white, that unblemished, that de-veined.
You're a Wal-Mart shrimp frozen from the farm.
Bloodless and raised in a seine to be seined.

I retract my request. Please turn away.
I'm a fish lunging at a rapid flash,
Too dumb to see the hook and filament.
You prepackaged fire! You heap of ash!

[Dark Muse]

Thank you everyone for the wonderful poems you have submitted so far, there is still time left, but the deadline is fast apporaching.

[hillwalker]

LIGHT AS A FEATHER

They say I have my grandma's eyes,
the irridescent blue of prairie skies;
both eyebrows curved like falcon wing
just hovering,
and lashes dark as darkest night
and skin as white as Appalachia snow.

They say I have my father's will,
his cruel instinctive urge to kill,
his cold resolve to pay no heed
to do the deed.
My soul like his, bereft of light,
I'm right behind you..... thought I'd let you know.


Hope I've not missed the deadline DM..... but no matter.

[Haunted]

foxy


she’s got killer looks

she’s got
even better
instincts

she can read your mind

you can’t
say no to
those eyes

one gaze and you are game

she takes her time
with her prey

she’d sweetly
lap your lips

then she surprises you
with a ravenous
mouth to mouth

without hesitation she strips you
of your soul but not before she
mercilessly teeths the flesh
from collar bone to tailbone
in large & mini morsels until
you are no longer human



then she starts all over again & again &...&...

[Dark Muse]

Thank you everyone thus far for the great entires.

Hillwalker: No, you are good, you have not missed the deadline

But a reminder to everyone else who has not entered, the dealine will be here in just a couple more days.

[BienvenuJDC]

Only ever known by her staged name,
She is the one who is forsaken,
Her introverted nature is to blame,
The chorus girl for granted is taken.

Her hidden talent forever unknown,
The buried past of ancestors before
In blood and passion it is sewn
Waiting to emerge in vivid splendor.

The audition deadline is almost here,
The final call for the part is sounded.
Will her destiny be decided by fear?
Fate within timid grasp is bounded.

[Dark Muse]

I thank everyone for your wonderful entries. The deadline is now past, and I will attend to the difficult task of choosing a winner ASAP!

[Dark Muse]

Wow, this was another really hard one to judge. I had a tough time deciding but it had to be done. Some great works here, loved to see the different ways you all viewed the image.

Pendragon: Loved the mystical feel you captured in your work, and I commended you for your use of the word kohl, it is something I myself enjoy bringing into many of my works. A beautifully sensual, seductive, and enchanting poem.

Revolte: A very interesting and inventive poem, I liked your use of repetition I thought it gave the poem a nice feeling to it, and there was such intensity behind the words, which reflected in the intense gaze of the mysterious woman's eyes.

krymsonkyng: I loved your poem, and this was a very close runner up. I liked the very original approach you had to the image, and you captured a great image with your words. You had some truly wonderfully lines, this in particular leaped out at me "mimic magpie's cries"

The Comedian: As usual you can be trusted to really give a unique spin to things. Your poems always leap out as being so different, and I mean that in a good way. I really liked the way in which you fit this image into a sort of pop culture setting in your poem. And once again you made me laugh out loud. A fun and unique read.

Haunted: I really enjoyed your femme fatale approach, as well as the somewhat vampric nature of your poem. Your poem portrayed my kind of girl, strong, independent, fierce and deadly. A great read.

BienvenuJDC: A great poem, the first line instantly gripped my attention, and I loved the direction you took. You had some stunning words, and produced a wonderful scene. I really liked the way in which you took the element of fantasy and gave it a realistic spin. Your poem played between the mystic and the real and captured the idea of mystery in the openness leaving the reader to wonder.

But the winner is..........

hillwalker: Your poem really blew me away. I absolutely loved the duel perspectives of the poem. And you had some absolutely marvelous imagery. I loved "Appalachia snow" and it was a wonderful lead in to the sudden coldness the 2nd verse of your poem takes which was truly chilling. There is a beautiful contrast to the softness in the 1st verse and hardness in the 2nd. Job well done!

[BienvenuJDC]

I'm just pleased that I got the longest review. :D Thank you, Dark Muse!!

[Dark Muse]

hahaha you are welcome!

[BienvenuJDC]

I just went back and read hillwalker's poem (since I do not read any other entries before I write my own... so that I won't let them effect my own work).

Truly a masterpiece. Congratulations, hillwalker!!

[Pendragon]

Congratulations, hillwalker! Great poem! And thanks for the kind complements, Muse!

[The Comedian]

Congratulations hillwalker! It is a beautiful poem. (Can I just say that I love the community feel of these poetry contests? I do. Great reviews too DM).

[hillwalker]

DarkMuse - thanks for your gracious comments. I feel privileged to be judged an equal in such company. Each of the poems were wonderful in their own way, showing a clarity and craft that I feel far surpassed my own efforts.

And thank you also for giving us such a superb picture to respond to - I felt a girl possessing such exquisite beauty had to have some evil alter ego not too far beneath the surface.

I shall try to find something equally inspiring - although I fear my bizarre sense of humour might win the day this once......
I shall return.

H

[dizzydoll]

LIGHT AS A FEATHER

They say I have my grandma's eyes,
the irridescent blue of prairie skies;
both eyebrows curved like falcon wing
just hovering,
and lashes dark as darkest night
and skin as white as Appalachia snow.

They say I have my father's will,
his cruel instinctive urge to kill,
his cold resolve to pay no heed
to do the deed.
My soul like his, bereft of light,
I'm right behind you..... thought I'd let you know.


Thats quite a remarkable poem, describes the pix perfectly. Congratulations Hillwalker. http://serve.mysmiley.net/happy/happy0065.gif (http://www.mysmiley.net/free-evilgrin-smileys.php)
I had to look up the word "bereft" as Id never seen it before... thats why I am here you see, to learn from people like you and all the rest.




I shall try to find something equally inspiring - although I fear my bizarre sense of humour might win the day this once......
I shall return.

H

Yes, bizarre humour sounds just puuurfict. lol

[hillwalker]

Thanks dizz - your comments as always very welcome.
I'm just wary of what else you might be learning from these pages - all those cheeky little smileys, you little tinker.

[hillwalker]

Hi everyone again – and sorry, but I did warn you.

I have chosen a picture that I think could probably motivate me to write a poem of some sorts - even though it’s as much humorous as inspirational.

So have fun :

http://www.online-literature.com/forums/picture.php?albumid=897&pictureid=6893

Closing date for entries Sunday night 6th of June I assume.

Best of luck everybody

[Haunted]

Congrats, hillwalker!

Dark Muse, thanks for your kind and insightful review...it takes one to know one :D

[DanielBenoit]

Great poem hillwaker, really!

Here's mine, which is a bit suggestive and is not for kiddies. It doesn't describe the picture insomuch as it describes the wonderful sexual irony I find behind it.


God Has a Dick Too

Aphrodite, hand me the bottle and let your soul sing
To me of your breast, which had tempted Ares from battle
To your bed in a stormy coalesce of souls into flesh.

Tell me, Muse, if God when He on that outstanding day
Had not aroused Eve from that fountain bursting forth from his loins?

Did Hera not pull Heracles from her breast, expelling
The milk from his mouth unto the night sky? Which now
Inhibits empty sons who look up to its milky blackness
In despair?

Zeus, that inscenutous old bugger he was,
Who ****ed so well that clouds would burst open upon the earth.

And now I inhale the sweet petrichorous aroma of damp grass and earth
From my nostrils and into my lungs, knowing somewhere that Hera has lit a cigarette.

[Dark Muse]

The Old Meets The New

Young starlets
modern day Venus's
decked in today's glammer and gold
fame seekers
worshiping in the temple of the new
kneeling before the altar
of material want and material gain
thriving for more
but their offerings are fickle
only skin deep
nimble bodies
offered temptations
but oh so short lived
before snuffed
like a candle flame
and just as long remembered
leaving no lasting impression,
and when it all begins to fade
in desperation
they try and reconstruct themselves
to become a parody
of their former selves,
these sad shades
of Aphrodite
this is what has been built up
upon the ruins
of the roots of so called
civilization,
while the gods of yesteryear
can only peer down
from their Olympian towers,
and shake their heads,
with hope they have
acquired a sense
of humor.

[Pendragon]

The old Gods gaze upon the new,
Aphrodite is worshiped in different form
Not as a statue but living flesh

One wonders what the carvers of the stone
Would think of the flesh Goddesses now revealed
Would it give them pause

Pendragon

[The Comedian]

Here's my little number:

Suppose She Farted. . . .

Suppose she farted? Oh! What then?
What do the gods know of women?
Silken lingerie cannot stop
Flatulence departed. Pop! Pop!

But say there was a wafting stink
Of beans and bread and broccoli?
Would those frozen gods hold their hands
So high, poised, and so loftily?

It's true that men are dogmatists
Of sex and love and women-kind.
Who is the statue here and here?

What the figure? And what the idol?

We peering men! We pulp artists!
Would we now worship from behind
The reek sent from an image dear?

O' leering gods! Let me share with thee
The sad truth of oils, perfume,
Jasmine, lavender, and honey:
(O' I fear to state what I think!)
"That men are stiff and women stink"

[Paulclem]

I've just found this thread. Thanks for starting it. Good picture Hillwalker - and I liked your winning poem. The others were good too.

The Old Gods

Solid and strong, so full of common sense,
Older we stand, fuller but statuesque.
Age lays down layers of fat experience,
The thickening limbs of life's rich burlesque.
The young still pass us by without a glance;
The heads that turn are ours towards the suns.
They're off to follow life's absorbing dance,
And gather all their love and pain and fun.
And, stiff, we wonder why they cannot see
How so much better they would be with us.
What we would give, they could pay back in glee,
We'd cut the crap and stifle all the fuss.
So, statuesque, we stand despite regret.
Refuse to see we've had all we should get.

[qimissung]

Here's my entry.


Dryad

the spring called their names
and poor mute things,
they listened and obeyed
travellers on a weary road
they thought at first that they longed only for a drink
but then they heard

the bell-like voices
and they made their way
to the spring song
witless, numbed, entranced, they stared
at brief beauty
and wondered
if they could feel the water
on their winter limbs once more
their fevered brow

the dryads laughed
the song cracked
and they were home
voiceless, mad, besotted

[Logos]

It is up to the moderators to decide if something is *literally* too "explicit", "graphic", or "offensive"--in this case, Daniel's poem is not violating any forum rules. They explained their meaning behind it, so let's move on now :)

The areas of Personal Poetry and Short Story sharing on this forum are especially subject to _emotive_ reactions from people, indeed, and yes sometimes things of a "sexual" nature come up in creative writing.

We can't moderate how people react to things _emotionally_, so, I'm sorry that some of you are offended by it, but please don't derail this thread with discussion of that. If you find it disagreeable opt-out for now.

This is a poetry *contest* so that is what the thread is for, not discussion of religion etc.

Any more off topic posts will be removed.

--

[Scheherazade]

This is a poetry *contest* so that is what the thread is for, not discussion of religion etc.

Any more off topic posts will be removed.

--
Off-topic posts have been removed as stated in Logos' earlier reminder

If a poem is offensive to your (religious) sensibilities, please feel free not to read or choose it.
("Ignore button" is only one click away at all times!)

However, I would also like to remind that further provocations based on this disagreement will not be tolerated.

If you have any dissatisfaction with moderating decisions or any events taking place on the Forum,
please PM one of the moderators.

[PrinceMyshkin]

LIGHT AS A FEATHER

They say I have my grandma's eyes,
the irridescent blue of prairie skies;
both eyebrows curved like falcon wing
just hovering,
and lashes dark as darkest night
and skin as white as Appalachia snow.

They say I have my father's will,
his cruel instinctive urge to kill,
his cold resolve to pay no heed
to do the deed.
My soul like his, bereft of light,
I'm right behind you..... thought I'd let you know.


Hope I've not missed the deadline DM..... but no matter.

Since I haven't participated in any of the recent contests I don't get notified when there are new entries, which is how I came to miss this magnificent poem, hillwalker!

(And I also missed the controversy that raged over the picture you chose for the next contest but I can imagine the lascivious/hilarious responses it might provoke.)


Here's my entry.


Dryad

the spring called their names
and poor mute things,
they listened and obeyed
travellers on a weary road
they thought at first that they longed only for a drink
but then they heard

the bell-like voices
and they made their way
to the spring song
witless, numbed, entranced, they stared
at brief beauty
and wondered
if they could feel the water
on their winter limbs once more
their fevered brow

the dryads laughed
the song cracked
and they were home
voiceless, mad, besotted

This would be a wonderful poem even if you'd submitted to the lascivious suggestion in the picture, but how elegant it is and how wonderfully you managed to find some empathy for what others will see as the lechers to either side of the photo!

[krymsonkyng]

Watch closely kids, this
is how you break a wall.
Cat calls from gawking gods
beyond the lenses lend
friends to our ends.

So we struck a pose?
A pair of poses, for poet's poesy
and gawking
stern stone faces staring in
on a lovely scene,
but what's it mean?
No meaner scene than
man can imagine.

Staring stiffs write subtle riffs
of our view,
and their view,
of their view,
and you. So smile!
Someone's thinking
about you, while
You read this line.

[qimissung]

Thank you, Prince. A friend who always sees the best in you is a friend, indeed. And krymsonkyng, was there ever a poet who could write such melting toungetwisters as you? :)

[Haunted]

Victoria’s other secret



thrusted out of stone
a pair of machismo torsos
gratuitously oversees
a very private portal

on this side of the
weightless fabric—

skin...soft curves...
a cleft most coveted...

on the other side—
mounting
anticipation

lacy silky scanty showy thingys

do they cover as much
as they reveal?

but for these two
stoic voyeurs...
you can look but you can’t touch
; )

[hillwalker]

We've had such fun so far, have we not?
A gentle reminder that all entries need to be in by midnight on Sunday 6th June so get weaving.

[hillwalker]

'Tis now the witching hour and the deadline is passed.....so time to put you all out of your miseries.
I have to say, some of us really did have fun with this picture did we not? Talk about the ruffling of plumage!

8 entries – and all, in one way or another, making imaginative use of the themes that could be explored with such a random juxtaposition of ancient and modern.

DanielBenoit – some striking images here and a courageous attempt to intertwine religious imagery, paganism and the everyday. I particularly enjoyed the final two lines.

DarkMuse – a gentler, more measured examination of the myth of celebrity or air-brushed beauty, and how ephemeral the entire drama really is.

TheComedian – witty and slightly risqué, if rather too scathing at the end. But any poem that can find a rhyme for ‘broccoli’ has to be genuinely applauded.

Pendragon – short but sweet – Aphrodite yet again the focus. I just felt there was another verse to follow with an answer or two.

qimissung – a clever idea skilfully expanded upon - the two ladies virtually transmuted into sirens, luring their mute admirers to a state of frustrated despair.

krymsonkyng – a hip, ironic poem full of echoing internal rhymes and casual putdowns. I liked the flamboyant style because it clashes so with the frozen image.

Paulclem – a sonnet no less, and adhering strictly to rhyme. The theme of trying to convince young, nubile girls they would be so much better off with us older, wiser (?) fools is one I can easily identify with!!!

Haunted – from the clever title I enjoyed this immensely. It was witty, and slightly suggestive, yet it kept those leering gods firmly tethered in their place.

It has been so difficult to pick a winner because the standards in this particular comp were uniformly high. So, my huge and sincere praise to all who took part – and finally after having to decide between a very worthy pair (DarkMuse and qimissung) the laurels go to qimissung for providing a brilliantly composed caption to the photo itself.

Congratulations, H

[Dark Muse]

Yay at being somethig of an honorable mention, and congrats to gimi.

[Pendragon]

Congrads Qimi

[Paulclem]

Congratulations quimissung, and thanks for the comments Hillwalker. I must say I enjoyed reading all the other works. I'm looking forward to the next round. It was a good choice of picture Hillwalker.

The only thing I'd like to add is that the competition duration was rather long. Could we have a timetweak?

[Haunted]

Qim, such beautiful poetry. Congrats!

[hillwalker]

The only thing I'd like to add is that the competition duration was rather long. Could we have a timetweak?

I agree Paul. I'm new to all this so I basically copied what had gone before, but after the first two or three weeks everybody's inspiration regarding this particular picture had run dry.

H

[Paulclem]

OK Qmi - I'm ready for another!

[qimissung]

Wow, thanks Hillwalker and everyone. Sorry to be so late to the party. It never really occured to me that winning this one was a possibility. So much talent, so much competition! They were all quite inspired.


I'm sorry it's been awhile. I will have a picture posted by Saturday. I wouldn't normally take so long, but my computer is down. I'm at the library at the moment, trying to get something typed up for tomorrow. I'll see what's out there. Maybe I can post something before I leave. Fingers crossed!

[hillwalker]

Congrats again qimissung - I tred to send you a PM the same day but your in-box is full??
Anyway, well done again. A worthy winner.

[qimissung]

Thank you, Hillwalker. My PM box is cleared out a bit. I have a picture picked out and will hopefully have it posted soon.

[qimissung]

http://www.google.com/m/search?site=images&source=mog&gl=us&q=alone%20together%20images#i=

[hillwalker]

Hopefully this is the Picture qimissung tried to post

via my pc :

http://www.online-literature.com/forums/picture.php?albumid=897&pictureid=7273

H

[qimissung]

That's it! The very one. Thank you hillwalker, for your help in my time of need. Yes, my computer is on the blink. Good times! And hillwalker is the coefficient of cool! :)

So, to one and all, let the games begin.

[Paulclem]

Interesting picture. Can't make anything of it yet, but will have a go. I thought you'd posted it sideways at first - I've been twisting and squinting...

:lol:

[hillwalker]

You're very welcome, qim. And I do believe it is one of these trick pictures that presents a new image when turned onto its side.

Curioser and curioser.

H

[Paulclem]

I can't see the hiddeness - perhaps that's the poem I'll write - on my optical ineptitude...

My optical ineptitude
Is not a case of being rude...

no no..perhaps not.

[qimissung]

:lol: Ow! my aching neck. The second picture is a bonus. I have to admit that I din't see it when perusing and selecting this. I'm not sure what I'm looking for when I do these. Something that delights the eye and says something about the human condition, I guess.

I'll post a deadline in the next day or so. It will be in about three weeks.

Have fun! :)

[zoolane]

Mist

The mist intrigued round the mountain.
We stand alone with just the mist for company.
Mist invited us to join her and float in the sky.
She hugged every part of our bodies with her cold air.

We held hands tight and refused to let her take us.
The mountain is our only saviour against her.
We push back toward the stone.
But she gets strong with the wind on her side.

I feel my hand slip from him.
Hold tight as I can.
She gently lifts my feet.
Slowly pulling me away from my heart's desire.

This what I interpet the picture said to me and I hope you all like thankyou.

[The Comedian]

Here's my jingle-jangle number.

Transparency

The sun behind the stones,
The people in the crag,
His hands in his pockets,
Her hands behind her gown.

We hide what we can see:
These people, the earth, and me.

The sun behind the clouds,
The rain sounds on our roof,
My two girls watch Dora,
My wife is on the phone.

We hide what we can see:
These people, the earth, and me.

Shadows lap the fissures,
And boarders crop the trees,
The viewer is a ghost.
The river runs below.

We hide what we can see:
These people, the earth, and me.

Dinner on the table,
I whisper "thanks" alone,
Then say "thanks" out loud
For true transparency.

We hide what we can see:
These people, the earth, and me.

[qimissung]

Thank you, zoolane and comedian. Very interesting contributions. And we're off!

[Pendragon]

Echo From the Edge

Where did we come from
How did we get here
Standing on the edge of good-bye
It's a long ways down
And a long ways up
We just step one step forward and die
The love in our hearts
Burned so bright and so strong
Why in the hell couldn't they just leave us alone?
Pressured and persecuted on every side
They can't seem to understand choice
So what will they say when we're gone?
Rather be gone than be living a lie
Two hearts forever entwined on the edge of good-bye...

Pendragon

[Dark Muse]

At World's End

Come, take my hand,
and let us stand
upon the edge
of a new world.

Let everything behind
us crumble away
into dust and we
will venture upon
the eve of a new
beginning.

The vastness
ours to behold,
let us be adventurers,
to blaze a trail
through the unknown.

The world crafted
by man will become
obsolete, and the
boundaries that held us
back will dissipate.

We will be dancers
upon the rim of
canyons, we will
become leapers
into the air,
and trust upon
the wind to lift
us up.

Let us live
among the birds,
take my hand,
untouched by doubt,
with a heart filled
only in trust.

And we will leap
from this world's end,
and if we die,
we will die together,
and if we survive,
we will live in the
New World.

The world made
only for us.

[DanielBenoit]

Immaculate Journey

Look, look love, let us see our immaculate memory ironic
Singing sealed history above romantic wilderness,
Buffalo Bill 66 where dem injuns waz tekin hits ats us.

We seal our memories shut behind gray fog and yellow dusk
And peer into the void of labyrinths to-be-born, anarchic oneness
Differentiate the ying and the yang, the Tao a tea to sip at one
Under steamy smoked mountains and hickory logs in fire.

Lalalalalalala Mozart and the Whale to New World
New Century and New Ghost. Millennial project ain't yo
Oneness fo' getting out of Buenos Aires. Fly fly fly
A plane into a tower for that.

[qimissung]

Wowzers! Thank you, Pendragon, Dark Muse, DanielBenoit. What awesomeness in one afternoon.

[autolycus]

My father, my mother,
You who stood before me
You who stood behind me
I bow to memory
I bow to the other

What is it to be lost?
Did you, dutiful, dear;
Did you bother to hear?
I look at what is near
I look at it almost

I am trapped in my life
The end of my tether
The end altogether
My father, my mother
My far retreat, my strife

The moment came and went
For I remembered you
For I remotely knew
Against a wall of dew
Again stirs this event:

My father, my mother
Married by a command
Married in the old land
When the cliffs closed their hand
When did you love each other?

Or did you fall into it alone?

[Hawkman]

Last Chance

No way forward, only back
along the well worn track
they stand, at world’s end
and contemplate their lives.

Glowing with a sepia light
eternity stares back;
vignettes the scene
within it’s timeless eye.

Recrimination pointless,
there is no map to life,
the signposts of their journey
long uprooted, far behind.

Still beautiful, the girl,
her gown plucked by
wind’s ethereal hand,
dressed for her last dance.

At peace the man
in flannel suit
who sheathes his hands
in pockets grown too deep.

Behind them
and beneath their feet
the certainty of rock
and all they’ve ever known.

They look to the Artist
but he will not advise,
here they are unaided
and every choice their own.

[qimissung]

Oh, I love them both! Fine job, autolycus and Hawkman!

[Haunted]

Love Story



let’s do something
different today

let’s take a trip
to September of 1948

let’s dress up
as a Hollywood couple

let’s do a stunt
and scale the steepest cliff

let’s pose for the camera
and kiss like there’s no tomorrow

let’s write our own script
of seduction, love, lust and betrayal

let’s rehearse our lines
for the riveting, tear jerking last scene

let’s give me your best acting
pretend you love me more than you love her

let’s make a pact
that you will not hold me back on my way down

[Paulclem]

These are a good batch of poems. I'm still thinking about the picture, but I'm not there yet.

[qimissung]

Lovely, Haunted, and from quite a different perspective. Nice.

I hope you will write one, Paul. You've got a while yet.

[qimissung]

The deadline will be Saturday, July 10, 2010.

[hillwalker]

THE PARTY’S OVER

The shindig’s finally fizzled out,
the swizzle sticks crushed underfoot,
your brother’s drunk both bars bone dry
as well as ruining Tarquin’s suit

That cocktail waitress from Van Nuys,
I watched papa write her a cheque;
poor Maurice left in such a huff,
your mother’s boa wrapped round his neck.

And you and I, my perfect pet,
I’d hoped we both might slip away,
enjoy some sweet canoodling
then watch for schooners on the bay.

But everything outside has changed,
the streets are buried deep in sand,
this balcony has turned to stone
and someone’s moved the ‘Hotel Grande’

Perhaps we drank too much champagne,
or Archie passed round more than snuff,
it might have been the canapés
but damn it all, enough’s enough.

What is a chap supposed to do?
This wretched world is playing tricks,
one can’t decide what’s up or down,
I blame those ruddy Bolsheviks!

[PrinceMyshkin]

Say what you like about those Bolshies but in this case they were good for a ripping good-rhyme, eh what!

[Paulclem]

Lovely, Haunted, and from quite a different perspective. Nice.

I hope you will write one, Paul. You've got a while yet.

Thanks qimi.

Here's my offering - completed whilst I was invigilating an exam last week.

Cliff Edge

Deep in the mountains, now you have no voice,
And echoes taunt your solitary ways,
There seems but little choice, so carry on
With every little day on day on day.

You scuffed a rock, dislodged a stone or two,
And hardly any mark is what you'll leave,
But you will carry on all the way through.
The past is gone; there's nothing left to grieve.

The fine clothes will unravel, like our lives
That hang by threads upon the cliff of time,
And yet we'd want a good frock or nice shirt
In which to hum our final funeral rhyme.

And standing at the face we're faced with fate,
Do we go on until we cannot choose?
Get ill, decay and dribble on our plates,
Until, senile, we're yesterdays old news?

[Hawkman]

Say what you like about those Bolshies but in this case they were good for a ripping good-rhyme, eh what!

I say, Carruthers, are those drums I hear or is it just my pounding head?

I couldn't say, Fortescue, but the night is alive with stars, like eyes shining through the curtain of the night...

I don't want to worry you Carruthers, but shouldn't the stars be higher up?

Ahh, yes... I see what you mean. You know, Fortescue, I've led a good life, I've stuck pigs in Poonah, Machine-gunned Dervishes in the Sudan, Slaughtered my fair share of tigers; but I never expected it to end like this. A lousy party followed by an assault by Bolsheviks on the Winter Palace. What Month is it?

Still June, Carruthers, though July is barking at it's heels.

Thank God it's not October! They can't be Bolshies, Looks like we'll just succumb to wild animals or restless natives. Couldn't bare the thought of being overwhealmed by Bolshies!

Hear Hear!

Chin, chin old man....

Hang on, Carruthers, I've just got to fling my empty revolver down the slope...

[hillwalker]

And by the way, old bean. Have I told you how ravishing you look in that dress?

Nurse had one just like it - oh, the fun we had.....

[Hawkman]

And by the way, old bean. Have I told you how ravishing you look in that dress?

Nurse had one just like it - oh, the fun we had.....

:party::lol::hurray::cheers2:

[qimissung]

That is one awesome poem, Paul! So glad you joined the party.

Abd hillwalker and Hawkman, why do I suddenly feel like I am in a P.G. Wodehouse novel? :D

[qimissung]

That is one awesome poem, Paul! So glad you joined the party.

Abd hillwalker and Hawkman, why do I suddenly feel like I am in a P.G. Wodehouse novel? :D

[Hawkman]

Because, Because
Dear qim, Dear qim
You are, You are!!

;)

H

P.S. "He flung his empty revolver down the slope..." is a quote from, "He fell among theives" by Sir Henry Newbolt; thus may Fortescue's remark about flinging his empty revolver down the slope be more richly appreciated. :D

[qimissung]

Um, thank you for that information, Hawk. I do more richly appreciate it. :D

:clears throat: uh-hum, the double posting was an accident, so have mercy on me. Most of my posting these days is from my phone. (Mutters to herself, "stupid phone")

[PrinceMyshkin]

I say, Carruthers, are those drums I hear or is it just my pounding head?

I couldn't say, Fortescue, but the night is alive with stars, like eyes shining through the curtain of the night...

I don't want to worry you Carruthers, but shouldn't the stars be higher up?

Ahh, yes... I see what you mean. You know, Fortescue, I've led a good life, I've stuck pigs in Poonah, Machine-gunned Dervishes in the Sudan, Slaughtered my fair share of tigers; but I never expected it to end like this. A lousy party followed by an assault by Bolsheviks on the Winter Palace. What Month is it?

Still June, Carruthers, though July is barking at it's heels.

Thank God it's not October! They can't be Bolshies, Looks like we'll just succumb to wild animals or restless natives. Couldn't bare the thought of being overwhealmed by Bolshies!

Hear Hear!

Chin, chin old man....

Hang on, Carruthers, I've just got to fling my empty revolver down the slope...

Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson were on a camping trip. After a good meal and a bottle of wine they lay down for the night and fell asleep. Some hours later, Holmes woke up and nudged his faithful friend.

"Watson, look up at the sky and tell me what you see."

“I see millions and millions of stars,” said Watson

"And what does that tell you?"

“Astronomically,” said Watson, “it tells me there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, I observe that Saturn is in Leo. Horologically, I deduce that the time is approximately a quarter past three. Theologically, I can see God is all powerful and we are small and insignificant. Meteorologically, I suspect we will have a beautiful day tomorrow.”

“Watson, you fool,” said Holmes, “someone has stolen our tent."

[PrinceMyshkin]

Um, thank you for that information, Hawk. I do more richly appreciate it. :D

:clears throat: uh-hum, the double posting was an accident, so have mercy on me. Most of my posting these days is from my phone. (Mutters to herself, "stupid phone")

Re the double posting: You MUST read Borges' "Pierre Menard author of the Quixote"
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pierre_Menard,_Author_of_the_Quixote

in which Pierre Menard, a 20th c. Frenchman, beloved of Don Quixote, undertakes to write it himself - at first by dressing as people did in Cervantes' time & reading all the books that Cervantes did... but then decides that that after all is the way that Cervantes did it, so...

At one point Borges quotes from Cervantes' original and then from Menard's re-writing of it and one goes mad looking from one to the other to see what the changes might be. (To save you from going mad: there are none!

And indeed, after careful scrutiny, I see no difference between your first response and its later twin!

[Paulclem]

Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson were on a camping trip. After a good meal and a bottle of wine they lay down for the night and fell asleep. Some hours later, Holmes woke up and nudged his faithful friend.

"Watson, look up at the sky and tell me what you see."

“I see millions and millions of stars,” said Watson

"And what does that tell you?"

“Astronomically,” said Watson, “it tells me there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, I observe that Saturn is in Leo. Horologically, I deduce that the time is approximately a quarter past three. Theologically, I can see God is all powerful and we are small and insignificant. Meteorologically, I suspect we will have a beautiful day tomorrow.”

“Watson, you fool,” said Holmes, “someone has stolen our tent."

:lol:

Good one old chap.

Thanks qimi.

[qimissung]

The thing is, Prince, although in my abstractedness I apologised for the double post, I did not, in fact, post either 905 or 906. A monkey did.

[PrinceMyshkin]

The thing is, Prince, although in my abstractedness I apologised for the double post, I did not, in fact, post either 905 or 906. A monkey did.

I am planning a clever (some might say a smart-a**) response to this, but it might take some time.... so please don't hold your breath.

[Hawkman]

The thing is, Prince, although in my abstractedness I apologised for the double post, I did not, in fact, post either 905 or 906. A monkey did.

May we assume that it is now engaged in writing the complete works of Shakespeare? :D

[qimissung]

:D you may.

[Hawkman]

Wake up qim, I'm down to my last fingernail... :D

[qimissung]

I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Hawkman. This contest is officially closed. It's great stuff and I don't envy the person who has to choose...oh, that's me.

I will be back tomorrow with the results.

[qimissung]

So now is my time of reckoning. I really enjoy entering these; choosing a purported winner, not so much. And everyone did such a lovely job.

Zoolane wrote “Mist” which included a personification of the mist as something that threatened the lovers. Her last line is very powerful.


Comedian; this one touched my heart. It speaks to a theme which I did not mention, but was in my mind when I chose this particular picture: alone together. Prescient and a good writer, our Comedian.


Pendragon wrote of young love on the run, a sort of Romeo and Juliet theme. Another great last line: “two hearts forever entwined on the edge of good-by.” Sigh.

Dark Muse wrote “At World’s End.” I like the idea of a new world; isn’t that what we hope for when we fall in love?

Daniel Benoit wrote cleverly as usual in “Immaculate Journey. ” And as usual I enjoy his very modernistic style.

“Ancestry” is Autolycus’ entry. I see why he wins these so often. I love the connection to an older generation and country and customs. It’s sort of a wonder that there are any happy marriages.

Hawkman wrote “Last Chance”: “they look to the artist, but he will not advise…” Actually, Hawkman, while our styles differ and I can’t rhyme to save my life, that line is something that I could have written. It’s an impressive entry.

Hillwalker, I adore yours. So very English. It soundsl exactly like something you’d see on late night T.V. and from the 1930’s. Very World War II. I’m sure everyone is going, “huh?”

Haunted. Clever girl! “Love Story.” Just go read it.
“ let’s give me your best acting
pretend you love me more than you love her

let’s make a pact
that you will not hold me back on my way down”
See what I mean?

PaulClem “Cliff’s Edge.” Wow. But so sad.

All of these are winning entries. But officially, it’s Dark Muse.

At World's End

Come, take my hand,
and let us stand
upon the edge
of a new world.

Let everything behind
us crumble away
into dust and we
will venture upon
the eve of a new
beginning.

The vastness
ours to behold,
let us be adventurers,
to blaze a trail
through the unknown.

The world crafted
by man will become
obsolete, and the
boundaries that held us
back will dissipate.

We will be dancers
upon the rim of
canyons, we will
become leapers
into the air,
and trust upon
the wind to lift
us up.

Let us live
among the birds,
take my hand,
untouched by doubt,
with a heart filled
only in trust.

And we will leap
from this world's end,
and if we die,
we will die together,
and if we survive,
we will live in the
New World.

The world made
only for us.

Let romance and love in the face of such a daunting journey live in all our hearts. Thank you one and all for participating.
Your turn, DM! :)

[Dark Muse]

Oh wow, I cannot beleive I won, there were so many good entires for this one. Now I have the difficult task of chooing the next picture which I will do ASAP!

[PrinceMyshkin]

Congratulations, DarkMuse!

(And also to you Qim, for the generosity of your comments on all of these.)

[Paulclem]

I enjoyed this competition. Thanks Qimi for judging it. I would have found it difficult with the standard set.

Congratulations Dark - another good poem which I really enjoyed too.

I'm looking forward to the next challenge too!

[Dark Muse]

Thank you!

[The Comedian]

Excellent poem DM and fine judging qimi.

[Haunted]

congrats Dark Muse!

this is my favorite stanza


We will be dancers
upon the rim of
canyons, we will
become leapers
into the air,
and trust upon
the wind to lift
us up.

[Dark Muse]

Thank you!

Ok, I have the next image for you all!

http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2010/067/2/8/__Let_me_out___by_Januine.jpg

[autolycus]

Congratulations, Dark Muse! And thanks for a very evocative new pic too!

And qimissung, thanks for judging, and for your extremely kind comment!

:)

[zoolane]

Thank you for comment Gimissung, well done Dark muse.


Cell

Dawn breaks, rising light of the day beginning.
Pour through cell bars.
Dark, lonely, cold curl up in corner.

Longing to be in warm light.
Warmth of light on my skin.
Wishing to be free to dance as I please.

Knowing that my faith is stay curl up in corner.

[Alexander III]

The great wall is powdered gold
By the tired sun, slowly rising,
Only to fall back upon his own weight.

The burden of light, sobriety, truth
We fear it
We cherish what it is not

A trickle of lingering night
Floats in the corner of my palace
It chils the air a dark blue

Streaks of surreal colors
Hiccup, laugh, and mourn their drunkenness
They sing a drowsy tune
Tall green forests and rolling fields
Licked azure and vermillion by
Young fauns and faeries

The sun light rushes in
Washing away the leftover
Colors of Dreams

[Buh4Bee]

The Gated Vault

The gated vault of lost childhood
Where I invited the devils to dance
In swept cobwebs.

Poor little Cinderella!
The demons have stolen her slipper.

Looking up through the grill
Away from the darkness
There is light,
Earth’s unobtainable freedom.

In the tyrannical darkness
Of solitary confinement
The shadows of down-cast light
Birth a silhouetted playmate
Bare footed, they dance to the demonic beat
Of London bridges falling down.

And the psychic power to create
Another slipper
And a real prince charming to rescue her from the dragon.
But observe there is no dragon in this fairy tale.

Although there is no hope
There is the power of the imagination
To survive and maintain sanity,
In Hell’s pit.

[Dark Muse]

Wow so many great entries already.......and I will have a deadline posted up soon, but until then keep them coming.

[qimissung]

I see with prisoner’s eyes
The bars,
The antipodes of freedom
They sing their own song
Of chaos banished,
And faith in lady justice,
Who though, trembles
When I am loosed upon the land.
While I, like any creeping creature,
Believe in the righteousness of my misdeeds,
The power of my terrible claws
To rend and tear at the gauzy net of safety
That people wrap around themselves
Ah, well
And now I’m left,
The receding waters of a flood, to contemplate the bars.
My belief in their existence matters not.
Their small, hard, unforgiving righteousness
Is mine
No matter where in this small cell I stand.

I see with eyes unfettered
The sun is breaking fast,
Or setting,
Or at rest.
Out in the world a stem is breaking,
And death is flying fast.
Somewhere I hear
The first breath,
And the last;
And the truth be told-
Or not- no matter.
Still, I hear your story,
However long and slowly told;
I hear the exhaust of a busy world that doesn’t stop;
And somewhere, just out of sight,
The earth creates its’ terrible, indifferent majesty;
And in the faint breeze blowing
I smell wet grass and the rain

Qimissung

[PrinceMyshkin]

This is a) marvelous poetry and b) a wonderful act of humanity!

[Dark Muse]

I have debated what I should set the deadline for since I will be gone the first weak in August, thus being unable to judge at that time so instead of making you all just wait in suspense or forcing you to rush by setting the deadline in time for me to judge before leaving, I will give you all an extra week and set the deadline on the day of my return.

Deadline August 8

[hillwalker]

Thanks qim for your kind comments - and DM for a super winning entry (and apologies for such a tardy response - back on-line after a short 5-day break South of the border).

H

[Dark Muse]

Welcome back and thank you!

[Sapphire]

What a great idea for a thread :D

Here's my attempt at writing something which rhymes...

Light

I used to live at night
With no eye for the day
"Pleasure lies in the shadows"
At any price I'd pay

All that is gone, by my own fault
I threw it all away
To live between these four walls
and wait for my decay

Night is no refuge anymore
just darkness, a nasty smell
I don't know whether time does pass
there are no signs which tell

"Light is hope" they say
"Keep looking at the stars"
But all the light I'll ever know
is behind those four bars.

[Pendragon]

I look out through the barred window
At the gently setting sun—
Knowing I’ll remain a prisoner
After all is said and done
These bars aren’t made of steel
The cell’s not cold concrete—
I’m imprisoned by my flesh and bone
And the secrets that I keep
A life sentence lasts for ever
Seems like it will never be gone
When the bars aren’t made of steel
And the cell’s not made of stone…

Pendragon
©July 17, 2010

[DanielBenoit]

tomorrow, i will laugh
when you
still see me in my cage

[autolycus]

in the beginning
all was without form and void
and then all was bright

man never at ease
made laws of symbol and line
logic was his creed

man structured his light
safe behind his bars of thought
felt in darkness freed

[Haunted]

penitentiary



the long slow deep
scratch marks
on the dilapidated wall
tell a story

on the ground
broken fingernails
lay as material witness

there’s no set schedule
for torture

the anticipation
is part of the torture

screams echo
in the empty cell
at times it’s only
in the head




outside
freedom awaits
in silence

there are
no visible scars
no feelings
nothing

it’s a different kind
of emptiness




so many times
I wake up not knowing
which side of the bars
I’m on

[mazHur]

how exhilarating is the mere thought
of liberty and freedom;
through a small peep hole in the cell
I can see God's Kingdom.

Sunlight and moonlight
pour in equally through the bars
these signs of God bring me joy
and tend to heal my scars.

God created us all free
but man is enemy of man's freedom
man-made laws cover us all
what's sin for one is not crime for some.

Smilingly Steel bars of the cell
open the sky for my view
I find my vault inside a bigger vault
lost in the sea like a drop of dew. .

[hillwalker]

THE BLACKSMITH’S CURSE

What thoughts passed through the blacksmith’s mind
the day he wrought these rigid bars;
their geometry, the devil’s grin,
a sacrilege to sun and stars.

Could he imagine one night spent
behind that smile, the cell door slammed,
the wakening nightmare as the howls
of anguish rise from those he damned.

How will he face his anvil now,
his potter’s wheel, his weaver’s loom,
his calloused fingers prised from prayer
and forced to forge another’s doom.

H

[AdoreroDio]

It's mocking me, this light
promising something it cannot give
the darkness I know
pierced each day by pseudolight
fake for the lies it tells me
it promises me hope
that I do not possess
stuck here behind bars
parallel lines throwing shadows
on my pale eyes
I dream each night
that the light will disappear
that I won't wake
but my traitorous heart
keeps beating
my murderous eyes, seeing
my base soul, feeling
and the light shines on
while I in darkness lie

[The Comedian]

Here's mine:

It's Not

A lie
is a
prison.

Every iteration
An incarceration.

I build
mine all
myself.

The iron bars are strong
enough to cage the wrong.

"It is
okay"
I said.

I heave at the lie's edge
that smells like raw sewage.

But it
is not.

[Dark Muse]

*delete*

[Dark Muse]

Another near impossible contest to judge. I abolsutely loved to see the so many different ways people viewed this image. All of the poems were truly excellent and I greatly enjoyed reacing each of them, though I hated the task of having to choose a single winner.

Without further delay here it is:

zoolane: You did a wonderful job of capturing such strong and profound emotions in so few words. You truly created a vivid scene of dreariness and despair, and put the reader in the mind of the prisoner. A very moving poem.

jersea: I thought you had a rather interesting perspective in your poem. I really enjoyed the concept behind it, and the way in which you intermixed fairy tales and childhood rhymes within the poem. The end was quite chilling and I liked the way in which it shed a realistic light upon the idyllic fantasy of those stories by showing the truth that there is none to come and rescue you. I also loved the idea of ones escaping through their imagination.

qinissung: I do not know if I could say it better than Prince, this was indeed a truly excellent and human poem. It is a very provoking and moving piece which sheds a light of humanity upon the position of the imprisoned with some very vivid imagery which really brings it all into life. I thought the last line was particularly stunning and a superb ending to this poem.

Sapphire: Bravo to you in your quest to rhyme and I thought you did a very good job with it. I loved the idea of this poem and in spite of the despair of the subject, there was something almost playful about it. It reminds me of some Irish drinking songs. The rouge who has met his ill fate at last. I particularly loved the last verse.

Pendragon: Another excellent poem from you. You do know how to use every single word to ultimate effect. And you have created such a powerful impact compacted into this short verse. It was precise and to the point and it hit with a great force.

DanielBenoit: I loved the way in which you were able to put so much into so few lines. I quite enjoyed the bitter, cynic tone of this poem. It was a small poem which came with a lot of bite.

autolycus: I absolutely loved the concept of your poem, I thought it was fantastic. The poem itself was masterfully crafted. You did a marvelous job. Every word was used perfectly to the up most and greatest affect.

Haunted: You created such a chilling and haunting poem. I thought the use of the short lines within this poem worked quite well to further enhance the effect of the words. You captured such a desperation and isolation. The last verse was a perfect ending for the poem and really hit the message home.

mazHur: Loved your unique concept upon the poem. The way in which the prisoner seems to find some comfort in spite of his position. Also loved the rather provoking idea of the way in which men do impose laws upon one another which go against natural born freedom. I thought the last line was quite beautiful.

hillwalker: A stunning poem. I loved your approach to the subject, viewing it from the perspective of the actual maker of the prison. I thought you told the story in a very powerful way which actually gave it the feeling of old folktale or legend. I loved the way in which the tension of the regret of the weight of what he had done cane be felt.

AdoreroDio: You had some wonderful lines within this poem and I myself love playing with that concept of the idea of light often being seen as something which brings and offers hope. I liked the way you took that idea and turned it around, making the light the enemy to the one whom is denied it, and a constant taunt. I most particularly loved these last lines:

"my murderous eyes, seeing
my base soul, feeling
and the light shines on
while I in darkness lie"

The Comedian: I really liked the style and structure of your poem, and you always bring something so unique to the table. I admit that I am not sure I fully grasp the meaning of this poem, but I found it a rather interesting read.

But the winner is

~Drumroll~

Alexander III: Among all of the excellent entries for this contest yours struck out at me the most. Your poem is masterfully crafted. I absolutely loved your use of language, the images you create and the concept of your poem. The final line really was the perfect way to end this poem and sold the rest of it, tying it all together in such a vivid and unique idea.

[qimissung]

Congrats, Alexander. Your poem was so vivid I could almost see the painting on the wall. :)

[Pendragon]

Nice going there, Alex, a wonderful poem and deserving of the win! :thumbsup:

[hillwalker]

Yeh, well done Alex, particularly as there was so much competition for this one.

H

[AdoreroDio]

Great job Alex! :]

[zoolane]

Well done Alex, :biggrin5::thumbsup:Thank you for comments Haunted on my poem.

[Alexander III]

Thank you darkmuse and everyone else, sorry it took me so long to respond, This contest had completely slipped my mind. I have the next picture ready.


http://www.wellesley.edu/activities/homepage/wcbdt/ballroom_dancing/ballroom1.jpg

[hillwalker]

THE LADIES’ EXCUSE ME

You are my darling, sweetest girl,
A bud I’m longing to unfurl.
Such delicate décolletage,
In pink rose-petal camouflage.

Those blushing lips, those languid eyes…..
You look a trifle tranquilised;
These surgeon’s hands, my skill, my guile,
Rewarded by your touch, your smile

I can’t believe my future bride
Had skin resembling walrus hide;
To think these biceps once were scarred
With hearts and anchors by the yard

Your long, dark hair with silken sheen
Once shaven short, my ex-Marine,
A perfect Boticelli Venus
Now you’ve gone and lost that penis

Forget the funny looks and smirks
From all those narrow-minded jerks
We’ll soon be man and wife, my dear…..
Is that a rumba I can hear?

H :-)

[krymsonkyng]

*sigh* Hillwalker, after reading "I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell" compounded on your well worded poem and that chin... I'm gonna be stuck thinking post op transvestite the whole time I'm thinking about what to write. This is gonna be rough. Well played sir. Well played.

[Paulclem]

Great entry Hillwalker. it's not often I laugh out loud.

I didn't post in the last competition as my ideas didn't gel - the entries were great though. Well done Alex.

The standard is high again...:D

[Dark Muse]

Fatale Seduction

Her beauty rivaled with the night
alive with the passion burning through
her hyacinth eyes.

A crimson rose, she defies
to be denied as her presence
filled the room leaving a wake
of lingering French perfume.

The epitome of debonair,
her laughter a sirens song,
and her charms cast a
hypnotic spell.

Secrets lived upon her smiles
which left you with a hunger
for a taste of what she knew.

And when she danced
her body moved as subtle
as a serpent with those
entrancing undulations.

It should have been as clear
as a Black Widow's hour glass,
but once she set you in her sight
there was no where left to run hide.

[Pendragon]

Memories, Once Over Lightly

We moved together
to the music of the soul
I thought you'd always be there
we could share growing old
But life has its ups and downs
The years fade memories into chance
I could have done without the heartache
But I still miss the dance

Pendragon

[krymsonkyng]

You are the reason I keep roses around
even after your perfume has left
its memory stained in the moon,
has left and taken the music along
off uptown, down on Broadmoor St.
to tour the Ritzier gentlemen.

I cannot afford you dear,
but I can afford roses.

[mazHur]

THE LADIES’ EXCUSE ME

You are my darling, sweetest girl,
A bud I’m longing to unfurl.
Such delicate décolletage,
In pink rose-petal camouflage.

Those blushing lips, those languid eyes…..
You look a trifle tranquilised;
These surgeon’s hands, my skill, my guile,
Rewarded by your touch, your smile

I can’t believe my future bride
Had skin resembling walrus hide;
To think these biceps once were scarred
With hearts and anchors by the yard

Your long, dark hair with silken sheen
Once shaven short, my ex-Marine,
A perfect Boticelli Venus
Now you’ve gone and lost that penis

Forget the funny looks and smirks
From all those narrow-minded jerks
We’ll soon be man and wife, my dear…..
Is that a rumba I can hear?

H :-)

Wow! What a flow, what spontaneousness!

[zoolane]

As I glide with you,
across the floor.
With red glow enchanted your slender body.
My hand try touches your radiance soul.

Your soul float round the floor,
Passioned grow burn within me.
Twist and turn as flame,
fall into my arms, lover's home.

[Sapphire]

Tonight, we'll dance.

Put on your red dress, my darling
and flowers in your hair.
The age of godesses is gone
but you will take me there.
This night.

Put on your dancing suit, my dear
with your pearly bow
You look so charming
Such broad shoulders
Cary me all night long.

Tonight, we will not smile
Together
as one

Black hair
red lips
fingers like claws

We'll dance our dance
as dance we shall
the music calls
the floor invites
Lets forget there is a dawn.

[Alexander III]

Hmm this one required much thought but I think enough time has passed and a winner must be appointed.

My top two favorites were :

*drumroll*

krymsonkyng and Dark Muse

The winner, who edged is

*drumroll*
*drumroll*
*drumroll*
*drumroll*
*drumroll*
*drumroll*
*drumroll*
*drumroll*
*monkey in the back on a unicycle playign the flute*
*drumroll*
*drumroll*
*drumroll*
*drumroll*

Dark Muse !!!

[Dark Muse]

Wow thank you!

And I have to say Hilwalker, I loved yours.

[hillwalker]

Thanks DM, very gracious of you, but your poem had some wonderful lines and you deserve your win. Well done.

[Dark Muse]

Thank you!

[Dark Muse]

Ok everyone, I got the next image for you

http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2010/244/7/6/she_comes_in_colors_by_kefkasjudgement-d2xr2nw.jpg

[krymsonkyng]

Awesome sauce! Congratulations Dark Muse!

[Dark Muse]

Thank you!

[hillwalker]

AUDITION

He drops the tailgate on the pick-up
lets me sit up on the tarp
then tries to strum his bruised Ovation
as I sing into the stagnant pools of sodium

My voice seeps out like slow molasses
then the smile I keep behind my hair most times starts creeping out
my snakeskin boots both worn and dusty from a futile summer
denim skirt and waistcoat torn and frayed
a knotted lace around my wrist….. that’s all they found

‘When You Find Me…… I won’t be waiting’
a favourite Tara Angel number that he’s never heard before
he says it sounds so sad and puts his guitar back inside the cab
and gives me sway to sing the chorus
then the bag over my head

So many nights of tears I’ve wiped away and then lost count of
in this sunlit room that smells of wasted light and floodwater and weed
with Morpheus still lingering in the corner
as I try in vain to swim across another waking day

This ankh around my neck belonged to Billie in a previous life
but now it means the only thing that’s left of mine I get to wear for now
and then he brings this bridal gown and jewellery
and takes my shackles off the first time in a month or more
and says to smile

I try so hard to smile the way he tells me to
I try to smile and act as if my life will not depend upon it

Another empty pocket purse
another Thursday night
another car park rendezvous
another broken dream or two

H

[Dark Muse]

A great start, nicely done!

[Dark Muse]

Still only one entry? Where is everyone?

[GEETASHREE]

THE EXIT

She leaves behind a vacant room
A glass window half draped
Another with the blind drawn up
And grey walls

A pink & black satin dress which lay
Strewn callously on the floor
She picks up and slithers in
A delicate frame
Remnants of vanity fair

Just to have a feel of
Those lusty nights
She had spent in the arms
Of the betrayer

Her eyes focussed to the past
And the golden strands
She pulls back
With manicured fingers

Lost hopes and dreams
Hurt, pain and screams
Of anguish are never
To be shared

A vulnerable exit from
A room full of despair
Cocooned in a satin dress
Deep pink and black
Blushes of the virgin
Expectations and
Dark shadows of nights
Patched together
With Satin threads

[Pendragon]

The Old Religion

They don’t understand her; they think she’s insane—
Her belief in her goddess is so strong
In her scarlet and black dress she prepares for the rite—
She’s used now to being alone
Perhaps if they looked beyond the kohl-rimmed eyes
Past the trappings and black fingernails
They could see her beauty shine like the stars
And her spirit that on moondust still sails
They call her a witch and they are out for her blood,
Repeating history’s violent mistakes
Not realizing freedom, means freedom to all
No matter at what feast one partakes
Tonight she will worship beneath the full moon
And pray that intolerance will leave this world soon…

Pendragon
© 9/12/2010

[Dark Muse]

Thank you for the great entries so far, keep them coming.

I am setting the Deadline for October 5th

[Skia]

Pains her more.

Nothing pains her more
to be stuck,
where the demons roam
and the witches cackle.

She was a polite girl,
not at all how she looked.
Her flaming red hair
and long flowing dress,
blended well with the blood
that leaked through the floorboards
slowly drip drip dripping.


She is a lost soul
forever wondering the room
waiting,
for her lover to return,
not knowing it was him
who sliced.

[zoolane]

Red and Black Dress

She put on red and black dress.
She seem to act bit weird.
She come over, sits next to me.
Whispers sweet nothing in my ear.
Rub her hand up and down my inner thigh.

We going back to our motel room.
I lay on bed and in dark wait for dream come true.
She crawl up the bed toward and kisses me all over.
Then she diced my manhood.

[Dark Muse]

Thanks to all the great entres so far. This is a reminder that the deadline is coming up soon.

[Dark Muse]

Thank you all who entered with your great works. Now I have the hard task of choosing a winner.

GEETASHREE: You created some beautiful imagery with your words. I loved the scene you created, and the story you gave to the picture, I thought the emotions of pain, isolation, and loneliness could be strongly felt. I particularly loved the last verse of the poem.

Pendragon: I absolutely loved your poem, naturally I thought your concept was great. It was a little bit like The Crucible and The Scarlet Letter. Thee was some lovely lines and I thought you captured the image well within your poem. One of the things which struck out at me is the contrast of the normalcy, and yet bareness of the background, with the boldness of her dress and I thought you captured that idea in your poem.

Skia: I really liked the eeriness of your poem, it had an almost haunted house feeling to it, which is very Halloween appropriate. I also liked the way in which you seemed to take the image in a different direction, seeing her as actually being condemned in this sort of Gothic world. I particularly loved the blood seeping through the floorboards.

zoolane: I liked the Femme Fatale aspect of your poem and the surprise at the end.

But the winner is

:: DRUMROLL::::

Hillwalker: What can I say? Your poem I thought was brilliant! It captured some of the most unique imagery and I loved the atmosphere which is creates. The other thing I really enjoyed about your poem is the way in which you captured the essence of the picture without writing too literally about it. And you had some outstanding lines.

[zoolane]

Thank you DM got feeling that I was a serial killer or something in past life. With some stuff I have being written recently.

[hillwalker]

Thanks Dark Muse - not an easy task for you, and thanks everyone else for entering.

I thought I would post a seasonal picture for this next month's competition.

http://www.online-literature.com/forums/picture.php?albumid=897&pictureid=8127

Deadline for entries 1 minute after midnight four weeks tomorrow (14th November). Good luck!

H

[Pendragon]

Nice going, Hillwalker, and thanks for the compliments Dark Muse!

[Skia]

It inhales her.


That poor girl.
Forced to try and to try,
The parents knowing
she cannot fulfill her duties.
they laugh as she weeps,
trying to break down the words
so she can impress her reluctant daddy
and big roll up smoking mummy...

[krymsonkyng]

Heavy pages yellow with age
hold an enthralling story.
With a young mind so
open and impressionable
it's hard
not to get possessed.

[zoolane]

The Book.

I am trying to stay wake.
So satan does not come knock on my door.
It so hard my lids are closing.
With each second that goes by.

I am reading my father's favourite book.
The words are blending into each other.
This book help in my father, in hes work.

[Hawkman]

The Reader

Little girls in twighlight zones
examine satanistic tomes
and in their cutesy, childish lisp
announce, ‘They’re here,’ while spouting sick.
And then she asks, and sounds profound,
‘Is my head on right when this way round?’
Of course it’s hard to understand
In language from another land,
so far away in time and space,
unlooked for from so sweet a face.
And Aramaic’s hard enough,
in sussing it you feel quite chuffed,
especially when you hear it spoken
backwards like the player’s broken.

[hillwalker]

The deadline crept up on me and overtook us all without my noticing so it's about time I declared the winner.

Thanks for the 4 entries - each one a quite different response to an unsettling picture.

@Skia - putting yourself in the place of the mentally abused child struggling to impress her slacker parents I'm guessing

@krymsonkyng - focussing on the well-thumbed paperback - and rounding it off with a very witty line

@zoolane - again the book is the catalyst for the little girl's struggles to get to grips with grown-up stuff

and finally @Hawkman - whose poem got me from the opening line and then the wickedly amusing rhyme and references to 'Poltergeist' and of course 'The Exorcist' itself.

Without having to study my tarot cards, throw chicken bones into the pentangle drawn on my kitchen floor or ingest vast amounts of peyote I can declare that the winner this month is

Hawkman - many congratulations sir, and commiserations to the other 3. His satanic powers were obviously too masterly for you to stand a chance.:devil:

H

[zoolane]

Congrats to Hawkman. Thank you for comment H

[Hawkman]

Thanks Hill and zoo. Desperately searching my archive for a suitably interesting image. Please bear with me, I'll post one as soon as I can.

H

[Hawkman]

OK Folks, here it is, the image that must excercise your poetry muscle :D

http://www.online-literature.com/forums/picture.php?albumid=1049&pictureid=8262

I'm making the deadline midnight GMT on Tuesday 7th December, that's three weeks from today. I look forward to reading your entries!

Live and be well - H

[Pendragon]

He's feeling lonely
Somewhere out there his true love awaits
He watches the peahens passing him by
He flashes his tail hoping to attract their attention
Like a lovely wallflower springing into bloom
Like a man hanging out at a bar
Hoping the next girl is the girl of his dreams
Hoping they don't think he is just a showoff
Or worse, a flasher...

Pendragon

[Hawkman]

Come on chaps! Don't let poor old Pen win by default! Surely the picture's not so bad that the entirety of lit-net is confounded for inspiration. Put pen to paper, fingers to the keyboard and pummel your brains to grace the thread with your indivitual wit! I wait, with worm on tongue, to read your submissions...

[YesNo]

His head is tilted to the side
With feathers spread to show his pride.
He hopes some hen will care.
But it's just me. My camera tried
To picture hope when sweet hope lied.
There was no lady there.

[hillwalker]

YO AMIGOS

I’m not some scrawny pigeon
or a lapwing dressed in drag,
I’m not a curlew coming out
still prone to boast and brag.

I’m not a blue-rinsed chicken
or a pheasant in a dress,
I’m proud to look the way I do
though it’s a shock, I guess.

It’s normally the dames
who need to try and look their best,
but chicks would kill to have my
multi-coloured tail and breast.

It may be as a species
that we’re rather vain; the thought
of dressing down in brown or beige
does leave one rather fraught.

We need to stand out from the crowd,
be macho mi amigos,
or else we start to doubt ourselves
and bruise our fragile egos.

So watch me while I spread my tail
and please feel free to flatter;
and don’t believe those losers because
size, I think, does matter.

H

[Delta40]

Yo Peacock! I read somewhere a boy, having watched a peacock fan his tail told his dad he watched a christmas tree come out of a chicken....

[Dark Muse]

Seven Delights, Seven Laments

Comrade perched so proud
in all your morning glory
vainly you display the tokens
of your sorrow, each mystic feather
another tear for lovers come and gone,
for every Casanova, I shall play this song
for all your bedazzled finery.

My first love was plucked
beneath the Mediterranean Sun,
she was Lust upon the sand,
her skin glowed resplendent as
the sunrise, our bodies warm
upon the beach, a tremor to touch your skin,
your taste forever lingers
like the salt of the sea upon my lips,
and with the coming tide you washed
away, claimed an Ocean bride.

The second love was found
in a sultry jungle night,
as vivacious, she was Gluttony
with her insatiable appetites,
her skin dark as night,
Venus incarnate, her laughter
was pure melody, supple was the amplitude
of her flesh, whispering verses from Arabian Nights,
but she vanished when the moon
no longer shone bright, as the veil of the night
lifted to the dawn, leaving behind
only our jeweled tears.

The third was a scorcher
hot upon the desert sand
raged by the winds, she seared through me
and her eyes burned into my soul,
she was Wrath, and her love was fearless,
it was war she waged upon my body,
everything was pure intensity,
we would devour each other
in our tooth and nail affair
until the Khamisn wind rose
and she was swept away in the sand,
leaving behind threads of her gilted gold hair.

My fourth love came with the
scent of sweet meadow grass
as we rolled among the endless hills
where the rain was cool, and the breeze
upon my skin gave me all the chills
of the touch of her lips, which never ceased,
as she clung to me in her quiet, yet raging
desperation, she was Greed,
never satisfied she scales over every inch
of my skin and plunders through my soul,
her eyes were emeralds and she would
keep me a trophy upon her shelf,
but like every blossom she too came to wilt.

When winter came, and the days and nights
were long and cold, I sought a steady comfort
to warm my bedside without fail, she was
Sloth, and she never failed to hold
me close as we watched the snow
begin to fall, how fair she was with flaxen hair,
she was steady and soon became a constant
always there, with the aroma of hazelnut
and the taste of coco it was the perfect
love until the day came when the seasons
changed and she melted away.

I envy not your shameless display
of our laments and woo's,
that treasure trove of those tokens
of our lovers come and gone,
but I cannot deny that the sorrows
born of love is the most beautiful
agony of all.

[mazHur]

Seven Delights, Seven Laments

Comrade perched so proud
in all your morning glory
vainly you display the tokens
of your sorrow, each mystic feather
another tear for lovers come and gone,
for every Casanova, I shall play this song
for all your bedazzled finery.

My first love was plucked
beneath the Mediterranean Sun,
she was Lust upon the sand,
her skin glowed resplendent as
the sunrise, our bodies warm
upon the beach, a tremor to touch your skin,
your taste forever lingers
like the salt of the sea upon my lips,
and with the coming tide you washed
away, claimed an Ocean bride.

The second love was found
in a sultry jungle night,
as vivacious, she was Gluttony
with her insatiable appetites,
her skin dark as night,
Venus incarnate, her laughter
was pure melody, supple was the amplitude
of her flesh, whispering verses from Arabian Nights,
but she vanished when the moon
no longer shone bright, as the veil of the night
lifted to the dawn, leaving behind
only our jeweled tears.

The third was a scorcher
hot upon the desert sand
raged by the winds, she seared through me
and her eyes burned into my soul,
she was Wrath, and her love was fearless,
it was war she waged upon my body,
everything was pure intensity,
we would devour each other
in our tooth and nail affair
until the Khamisn wind rose
and she was swept away in the sand,
leaving behind threads of her gilted gold hair.

My fourth love came with the
scent of sweet meadow grass
as we rolled among the endless hills
where the rain was cool, and the breeze
upon my skin gave me all the chills
of the touch of her lips, which never ceased,
as she clung to me in her quiet, yet raging
desperation, she was Greed,
never satisfied she scales over every inch
of my skin and plunders through my soul,
her eyes were emeralds and she would
keep me a trophy upon her shelf,
but like every blossom she too came to wilt.

When winter came, and the days and nights
were long and cold, I sought a steady comfort
to warm my bedside without fail, she was
Sloth, and she never failed to hold
me close as we watched the snow
begin to fall, how fair she was with flaxen hair,
she was steady and soon became a constant
always there, with the aroma of hazelnut
and the taste of coco it was the perfect
love until the day came when the seasons
changed and she melted away.

I envy not your shameless display
of our laments and woo's,
that treasure trove of those tokens
of our lovers come and gone,
but I cannot deny that the sorrows
born of love is the most beautiful
agony of all.

very nice poem:)


I cannot deny that the sorrows
born of love is the most beautiful
agony of all.


I envy not your shameless display
of our laments and woes,

[mazHur]

YO AMIGOS

I’m not some scrawny pigeon
or a lapwing dressed in drag,
I’m not a curlew coming out
still prone to boast and brag.

I’m not a blue-rinsed chicken
or a pheasant in a dress,
I’m proud to look the way I do
though it’s a shock, I guess.

It’s normally the dames
who need to try and look their best,
but chicks would kill to have my
multi-coloured tail and breast.

It may be as a species
that we’re rather vain; the thought
of dressing down in brown or beige
does leave one rather fraught.

We need to stand out from the crowd,
be macho mi amigos,
or else we start to doubt ourselves
and bruise our fragile egos.

So watch me while I spread my tail
and please feel free to flatter;
and don’t believe those losers because
size, I think, does matter.

H

good:)

[mazHur]

OK Folks, here it is, the image that must excercise your poetry muscle :D

http://www.online-literature.com/forums/picture.php?albumid=1049&pictureid=8262

I'm making the deadline midnight GMT on Tuesday 7th December, that's three weeks from today. I look forward to reading your entries!

Live and be well - H

hey, he is amidst mating season trying to impress hens with his sexy dance!:)

[Hawkman]

OK folks, some great entries so far but don't let up, I can cope with more :D Only a couple of days left though. H

[mazHur]

It takes a jiffy to please a god
by just singing a hymn to his grace
but pleasing Godesses, Oh, my god!
Is entirely a different case!

A sparrow twittering in spring
skips from bough to bough
her paramour chasing after her
only to find her love say, No, no, no!

Fair dames are like godesses
aiming for the best of all,
those who carry their hearts in hands
can only their love enthrall.


Unique are the Laws of Nature dear
females blessed with the right to choose
A peacock in the forest dances in ecstasy wild
his plumage alluring his mate to love's subterfuge.

[autolycus]

In a cage of eyes
I stand entrapped
Taken by surprise
Am all enrapt

My eyes look at me
Beauty around
And all that they see
By radiance crowned

Pinned by their gaze
In luster chained
Proud peacock praise
All that's remained

[blank|verse]

Deleted