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

[cacian]

prendrelemick what a nice poem you have composed there and brilliant idea too :D
mazHur congratulations!!!

[miyako73]

Congratulations, Mazhur. I like how the rhyming heightens the romantic darkness of your poem. Good work.

[mazHur]

prendrelemick what a nice poem you have composed there and brilliant idea too :D
mazHur congratulations!!!

Thanks Cacian.
I liked prendrelemick's poem and think it is better than mine!:)
thanks prendrelemick.

[mazHur]

Congratulations, Mazhur. I like how the rhyming heightens the romantic darkness of your poem. Good work.

thanks a lot, my friend.:)

[mazHur]

Hey, am facing problem uploading the picture. Can somebody help? Thanks

[mazHur]

Hey, am facing problem uploading the picture. Can somebody help? Thanks

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wow! the attachment got uploaded and appears on the page!! Though it relates directly to the source I don't mind if friends will write their poems in the light thereof or perhaps give it a different meaning? Anyhow, it's there now.....Let's go!

[YesNo]

Congratulations, mazHur! The picture is interesting. Is there a name for this sort or stitching on a person's skin? I would like to search for more information on it.

[cacian]

oh my !!! what is going on in this picture it hurts!!!:eek6:
I am going to have to leave this one is definitely not for me sorry mazHur :)

[Dark Muse]

Tapestry of the Soul

I weave the threads
of your soul
into my flesh,
capturing your image,
immortalizing it
underneath my skin.

I will make a tapestry
of your life upon my
body, you will live
and breathe within
my every pore.

Your past,
future,
present
bleed through me,
our destinies balanced
against each other
upon the scales.

[mazHur]

thank you, YesNo.
Cheers!

[YesNo]

I put your picture on my hand.
The thread was dark. My palm was pale.
It will wear off. I understand.
By then, I'll know, we have gone stale.

[prendrelemick]

Face palm.

New speak
Twitter style
We used to say
Duh!
Or :rolleyes:
(So passe')
Now, we tweet
#Facepalm
A short cut,
(Each character is precious)
A gesture of words.
But not an instruction
For heaven's sake! #Facepalm

[slipee]

Dunes of desert sands
weathered and revealed
so told by the shadows
which crack across the contours
and encroach the edges
like the timeline
of a river lost

The slither of a hint
winding within the ridges
of a fortune post-ordained
stitching sewn his thinning face
this gazing mesmerism
permitting our minds
one last mirage

[mazHur]

Buck up, friends, and float some nice poems on the page....not much time left until 20th inst. for me to decide.

[Pendragon]

Ignoring pain, the sewer sews
Decorative patterns on the palm
Why the needle and the thread?
Would not a tattoo last longer
And be much more detailed and beautiful?
But then again, there's no laser surgery
To remove the patterns, just snip the thread...

Pendragon
(C) February 8, 2014

[Gilliatt Gurgle]

Chiromancy

Knit one, purl two,
the epidermis screams.
The first of many
tangled webs
woven across life lines
of adolescence.
A personal fable
now scars the palm,
that once,
held a mothers hand.
The protagonist stitched,
as egocentrism guides
dexterous fingers.
A sweaty face appears;
the imaginary friend,
that once
stirred, transparent,
under your bed.

[slipee]

I really like this ^ :)

Good job, Ms Gurgle (as entity :p).

[mazHur]

Obviously we are already late for the result.....any more entries coming in?? No, yes? Okay I will try to post the result tomorrow.

[mazHur]

Okay, I pronounce Dark Muse as the Winner!

Here is more information about the picture I posted. It will give you an idea how close or better you were in catching the concept poetically.
http://www.ignant.de/2014/01/14/hand-sewn-portraits-by-david-cata/#more-81336

Congrats,DM.

[Gilliatt Gurgle]

Ah hah, congrats DM

[Dark Muse]

Thank you, I will have a new picture soon

[Dark Muse]

Ok here is your next image

http://alexcolville.ca/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/alex_colville_1967_pacific.jpg

Dealine March 10

[YesNo]

The stars are not with him today.
They all abandoned him last night.
His lover with another may
Enjoy their hours on the bay.
His gun will set things ruler right.

[prendrelemick]

Young Tom

Young Tommy Cruise,
He done good
Got a house on the beach
All glass and wood.

Young Tommy Criuse
Got a famous face
He's packin some heat
just in case.

He leans by the door,
Watchin the waves
Tommy don't care
That Jesus saves.

[Dark Muse]

Thanks for jumping in prendrelemick, being that at current there are only 2 entries so far I am going to extend the deadline until March 20th.

[Pendragon]

Looking out the door at the ocean
The restless wandering waves
My thoughts are running like a mill race
My frazzled nerves start to fray
There's a pistol on the edge of the table
Fully loaded and ready to go
I drink another shot of courage
Trying to get myself under control
I turn away from the window
Now my nerves are beginning to behave
So I reach out slowly and pick up the pistol
Walk down and throw it into the waves...

Pendragon
(C) March 11. 2014

[Gilliatt Gurgle]

Ah good, deadline extension. I'll see what I can do.

EDIT
Here's my shot at this one:

The 200 Grain Angler

Honey, is this Mullet Monday?
an angler's anxious request
as high tide rolls in blithely
delivering a feast with each crest.

Behind him a filet table
marked inches measure the catch,
along with an M1911 pistol;
his "rod and reel" ready to dispatch,

full metal jacket lures, cast
at 900 feet per second.
Whatever's left after each blast
is netted, bagged and sectioned.

The preferred appetizer for Mullet
is Fiddler Crab purée,
prepared with a hollow point bullet
from a .45 caliber ACP.

[Dark Muse]

I haven't forgotten about this, I meant to get to it today but I got caught up in other things and now I am too tired to think straight let alone competently judge, but I will try really hard to get to it tomorrow.

[Dark Muse]

Thank you everyone, this was another tough one, some great entries here.

prendrelemick: I really like the tone of this one, it sounds almost like a song in a way. Also enjoyed the story it told, it left me wanting to know more about Tommy Cruise.

Pendragon: Well written as always and very intense. It kept me on the edge of my seat wondering just what was going to happen next. It had a really great flow and rhythm to it. I enjoyed the unexpected direction this one took at the end.

Gilliatt Grugle: This is the most "innocent" or optimistic take upon the picture. I enjoyed the humor of it, and there was some good use of language. A fun playful poem which gave me a chuckle or two and cleverly written.

And the winner is.....

YesNo: Short but very powerful. Some beautiful lines and a very nice use of rhyme. The opening line immediately grabbed my attention and kept me wanting to read more, and I loved this line "His lover with another may."

[2X2E5]

I got inspired by the picture and had a cute idea...so I couldn't help but share this poem I wrote for the picture above. Hope y'all get the reference and idea I was going for! :)
I enjoyed reading the poems of all those who competed, looking forward to beating your hearts in the next challenge ;)
I like Prendrelemicks especially - felt it had a good sense of humour.
Ill crash my car into a bridge, I dont care. I love it.

Old man and Me:

What have the waves brought today?
Fish skeletons, scabs of papyrus shells;
ripped and peeled, flaked and foamed
salt water - advancing and rushing to shore -
like infantry lines pushing ahead, bring seized
by the gravity of bullets, a dance performed
through a swayful waltz on the front line.

I lose the present with an inhale of the past
brought by these never visually ageing waves.
Several years back...that old man and his boat,
carrying me to my horizon, which parallel
my closed eyes and closed smile.
Under every wrinkle on his face
laid a mystery. Days and weeks went by
and I could no longer look at the sea,
but now only the sky, and the glistening light
shinning from his forehead sweat – causing
a heavier sunburn. Oh my old man and the sea,
who is more real now.

After those dreadful stormy days
when neither my brother - the sky and the sea,
shed no light and brought no glea,
painted the other side of my window canvas in
beautiful tones of greys,
my old man friend and love, was carried away,
in all likelihood eaten by thousands of Godly fish by now.
Little did the old man know, his successor, my next friend,
would do not like to row. He loved to drink and do blow.
To feed the mouths of my little sister, and my mother,
I would have to take rum rumble and a pillaging pistol.
Oh old man, where are you now, today my face
was impacted by your smell, it ran through my hair,
and I think I'll try to catch a cod for old times sake.
As I measure my life, I realize my bullet extends far beyond my
hand's reach. Like a grain of sand trying to reach another ocean
only to end up in a souvenir bottle.

At times I see a forest's outline in falling part of waves.

[prendrelemick]

I got inspired by the picture and had a cute idea...so I couldn't help but share this poem I wrote for the picture above. Hope y'all get the reference and idea I was going for! :)
I enjoyed reading the poems of all those who competed, looking forward to beating your hearts in the next challenge ;)
I like Prendrelemicks especially - felt it had a good sense of humour.
Ill crash my car into a bridge, I dont care. I love it.

Old man and Me:

What have the waves brought today?
Fish skeletons, scabs of papyrus shells;
ripped and peeled, flaked and foamed
salt water - advancing and rushing to shore -
like infantry lines pushing ahead, bring seized
by the gravity of bullets, a dance performed
through a swayful waltz on the front line.

I lose the present with an inhale of the past
brought by these never visually ageing waves.
Several years back...that old man and his boat,
carrying me to my horizon, which parallel
my closed eyes and closed smile.
Under every wrinkle on his face
laid a mystery. Days and weeks went by
and I could no longer look at the sea,
but now only the sky, and the glistening light
shinning from his forehead sweat – causing
a heavier sunburn. Oh my old man and the sea,
who is more real now.

After those dreadful stormy days
when neither my brother - the sky and the sea,
shed no light and brought no glea,
painted the other side of my window canvas in
beautiful tones of greys,
my old man friend and love, was carried away,
in all likelihood eaten by thousands of Godly fish by now.
Little did the old man know, his successor, my next friend,
would do not like to row. He loved to drink and do blow.
To feed the mouths of my little sister, and my mother,
I would have to take rum rumble and a pillaging pistol.
Oh old man, where are you now, today my face
was impacted by your smell, it ran through my hair,
and I think I'll try to catch a cod for old times sake.
As I measure my life, I realize my bullet extends far beyond my
hand's reach. Like a grain of sand trying to reach another ocean
only to end up in a souvenir bottle.

At times I see a forest's outline in falling part of waves.

That thar's fightin talk! :)

[YesNo]

Thanks, Dark Muse!

I'm looking for a picture. Hopefully, I'll have one by tomorrow.

[YesNo]

Here's the new picture. It is one I took somewhere in Door County, Wisconsin some years ago. It is a picture of a cedar tree growing out of the escarpment facing Green Bay.

http://www.online-literature.com/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=9280&d=1395703166


Deadline: April 15

[prendrelemick]

Cedar trees

Everyone says,
And I agree,
that trees should grow
vertic'ly.
But cedars are
A rebellious bunch
Their wooden brains
Are out to lunch.
Here and there
You'll often see
them attempt to grow
Horizontally.
They think that nature
Can be perverted
And hope one day
To grow inverted

[Pendragon]

Lignum et lapis, ex falli

I saw a monster in the forest
With empty eyes and granite claws
Tusks filled the mouth and rose towards heaven
A demon shape that made me pause

I wonder if in days gone by
Some hero rode in to engage the beast
And being unable to destroy it
Turned it inanimate at the least

But on moonlit walks into the forest
The silhouette still makes me pause
And stare hard at the fearsome shadow
And wonder: Did it move those paws?

Pendragon
(C) 3/27/2013

[YesNo]

Two nice entries! The cedar does seem to have started out horizontally as prendrelemick notes and I think they might have stayed that way longer than they needed. Eventually they grow up. I liked the "wooden brains" phrase. They also seem like monsters as Pendragon notes especially when it is getting dark.

The winner is prendrelemick!

[prendrelemick]

sorry, I've been very busy for once.

I'll get on with it now.

[prendrelemick]

How about a Hockney landscape.


http://i85.photobucket.com/albums/k78/prendrelemick/123.jpg (http://s85.photobucket.com/user/prendrelemick/media/123.jpg.html)

[Gilliatt Gurgle]

I managed to find a moment to at least download the picture, we'll see.
Work wear has put a damper on creative thought lately.

[YesNo]

My wife and I and other relatives saw an exhibit of Hockney's art while on vacation in San Francisco. It impressed all of us and overwhelmed me. I was going to put this entry in the "bad poetry" thread since it is in that rambling, rather unpoetic, "form", but I didn't. So here it is.

[YesNo]

I told Gerald that it gave me hope going
through Hockney's iPad art in the deYoung
museum in San Francisco after he said I
shouldn't get my hopes up, but it looked
like anyone could be an artist now-a-days,
one just needed effective marketing, but
that was until I saw that massive, multi-
paneled landscape and I started calculating
how much I could make if I sold each panel
at a thousand dollars plus, feeling I would
be set for a while, but Gerald was jabbering
to me, his back to the entrance, telling
me that my poetry lacked that je-ne-sais-pas
quality and I told him, 'Wait!' and turned
him about 165 degrees around and as we
walked into the room with some holy ****
expression on our faces, Gerald sadly
realized he couldn't draw anyway, or so he
claimed, but the truth was he won't draw
thinking he can't, and then I grabbed out
my phone and started to draw and realized
that perhaps I can't draw either, not
admitting that Hockney can draw, but at least
he did produce something which is more than
we could say, but if hope dissipated at the
museum, it picked up at the Fisherman's
Wharf especially after an In-N-Out burger
and, sure, we should have tried the clam
chowder in a sourdough bread bowl, but we
can't get this burger back in Chicago and
we knew the awesome, simple truth that
there were good reasons to travel west.

[cacian]

How about a Hockney landscape.


http://i85.photobucket.com/albums/k78/prendrelemick/123.jpg (http://s85.photobucket.com/user/prendrelemick/media/123.jpg.html)

wow that is what I call artful.:)
will think of a few lines soon.

[YesNo]

Bump. This contest needs more entries. That's a lovely picture by Hockney.

[Melanie]

Fresh Air Views

visions
where dreamers dream
and kite strings tug at hearts
and rainbow hued imaginings
take flight

[Pendragon]

This road makes me sleepy
It leads to a giant patchwork quilt
The mist in the distance acts like an AC
Pull over. Catch some Z's

[cacian]

wow that is what I call artful.:)
will think of a few lines soon.

vast in green
winding in purple
straight in red
bordeaux bred
squared in yellow
citrusy mellow
the view
ahead
a vision of the med
floods a splendour
in a
summer wonder.

[prendrelemick]

That's four. Get yer entries in now, judgement is coming.

[prendrelemick]

I'm really glad the picture stimulated that poem from Yesno. It's great when that happens, when the story goes way beyond the picture posted.

But the winner is cacian, partly because she likened a bit of Yorkshire (Garrowby Hill) to a vision of the Med. But mainly because of the way it trips off the tongue.

[cacian]

prendrelemick thank you very much.
and now the next picture if I can get it on the screen which I do not seem to can and so will have a link instead.
https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSdF0W1Jg78OlRjU2ge79Q0ZWZgbE19G OnAa5whSGTvpHlZnWIC

sorry it is small I cant seem to figure out how to paste it otherwise.

good luck!!

[YesNo]

Testing. Will he hold her up
Or let her drop? She kicks her heal.
In ready red she's all dolled up
To match him dressed in devil dark,
Red tie, black hair with skin to feel.
Around them nothing else looks real.
A haze of light and brown might mark
The places where observers sit
As if they aren't a part of it.

[Pendragon]

Opposites Attrack

The man in black
Dances with the lady in red
The zero tolerance UFO misinformation seller
Embraces the girl who just wants to have fun
Creepy science fiction melded into moulin rouge
Threats encapsulated by fiery passion
Play it again, Sam
Here we go...

Pendragon
(C) 6/10/2014

[Dark Muse]

Tango

Dancers in the dark
spoke in a language which
requires no words,
they may have been strangers
but they understood
the inner rhythms of the soul
and body, it is a hunt,
as they prowl around each other,
inhaling the lingering scents
of smoke and perfume,
it is a game of power,
a passion for life, love, desire,
a whisper of the past,
a promise for the future,
a thrill of embracing
the moment.

[Melanie]

Turn of the Century Tango

On the shores of the Rio de la Plata
where the Argentine Tango began
immigrants met on the docks at twilight
replacing their sorrows with dance
while Bandoneon sounds wafted through
the night air.

Empty pockets and broken dreams
soothed by the Tango's spell
fast tempos enlivened the Barrios
while instruments of other cultures fused
in a universal language of music, tango,
and love.

A close embrace, long elegant steps
gliding in syncopated rhythmic grace
as two dancers shared one heartbeat
"el Tango no esta en los pies"
esta en el corazón",
as they say.

Over the years, the Tango has changed
like a dance from rags to riches
now sequined gowns, tuxedos, and tails
but one thing will never change, not ever
"el Tango esta en
el corazón"

3rd stanza translation: "the Tango is not in the feet. It is in the heart."
Last stanza translation: "the Tango is in the heart"

[YesNo]

I was listening to Patti Scialfa's Spanish Dancer and it reminded me of cacian's picture for this thread. So, here is what I am listening to at the moment:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SmLGh2hAKNo

[cacian]

I was listening to Patti Scialfa's Spanish Dancer and it reminded me of cacian's picture for this thread. So, here is what I am listening to at the moment:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SmLGh2hAKNo

hi YesNo thank you for the link and what a great picture of that lady in the red dress .:)

[cacian]

Ok guys this is up
and here is the winner

YesNo
the following lines are lovely:
Red tie, black hair with skin to feel.
Around them nothing else looks real.
this piece moves as thougth with music.

Pendragon
this is an enchanting piece. I enjoyed it a lot.

especially the last line it is classic :)
cool lines:
The zero tolerance UFO misinformation seller
Embraces the girl who just wants to have fun

Dark Muse
a splendid piece beautiful words.

these are catchy lines:
it is a game of power,
a passion for life, love, desire,
a whisper of the past,
a promise for the future,
a thrill of embracing
the moment.

Melanie
I never knew you spoke Spanish.
an elegant piece.

and yes I agree:
el tango no esta en los pies
esta en el Corazon

the tango is in the heart
not in the feet
because
the feet are for dancing and the heart is for holding.
a clever piece.



and the winner is , this one is has been a difficult one, goes to
Pendragon
the Sam catchy line at the end did it for me.

and so yes
Play it again Pendragon
suggest us another round of this context :D

[Pendragon]

http://static.freepik.com/free-photo/dark---statue_19-133045.jpg

Y'all should have fun with this one! Deadline July 16, 2014

[YesNo]

His feet are bare, but nothing else is there
To make me want to entertain old Joe.
I look inside his robe. Where did he go?
Why does it stay upright when he's nowhere?
Some say his life was hard. He didn't care
And he's someone that no one cared to know.

One day, some claim, his robe will hit the ground
Though some have claimed all sorts of foolish things.
Remembering when he first sat there brings
One back to winter and a lack of sound
With thoughts of how old Joe forever frowned
Most angry at the brightest, hopeful springs.

They studied him but when someone went near
His aura forced those scientists away
And turned them crazy on the very day
They thought they understood his inner fear.
His inner silent emptiness they'd hear
Then far away from Joe they'd have to stay.

The weather doesn't bother him as well.
He's like a statue bronzed for us to see.
He sits without a breath aware that we
Have tired of all the things that he could tell.
Alone upon that spot he gets to dwell
And we got used to him eventually.

[Dark Muse]

The Devil & Death

The faceless man
(If man at all he can be called)
whispers temptations
in the language of the dead,
speaking in tongues
in a way that licks my soul
up and down.

I am speared
half-way between horror
and allure,
is he all illusion?
A nightmare or a dream?
I gravitate towards his promises
of immortality.

He beckons
to come perch atop his bony knee
yet I fear if I touch him
he will crumble away to dust,
but if I consent
my flesh may be rendered into stone,
and we will sit together
as lovers of the tomb
watching the dead dance
and life drain away.

He can liberate my soul
from these mortal bindings
of flesh and bone,
that are so limiting,
or so he says, though
he has not mouth of which to speak,
and the voices
may yet be within in my own head.

My heart becomes traitorous as I yearn,
I want to kneel before him,
but I might find nothing there
but air and falsity,

I would mortify myself
if he could release me,
and with but a kiss
bestow upon me the power of the gods,
I could travel among the crowds
like a shadow,
knowing that with but a touch,
their souls would unravel
around my fingers.

But in the end
he may just be another charlatan
carved from stone,
a fork-tongued devil,
who promises infinity on his left hand,
while the right hand strips you of everything

[dara.cv]

The Statue
represented death as best as it could
Cold, lifeless, stony.
Head hung low as surely death would,
Incapable to hold a gaze,
perpetually lonely.
Wise choice, dear artist, to chisel of rock not wood
Hard, resolute, final.
And to leave emptiness hidden under it’s hood
A critical decision,
Unspeakably, most vital.

Still

What puzzled me,
sundering my mood,
Cruel, flawed, neglectful.
The feet were left uncovered, nude.
A mistake perhaps less insightful.
Is death not the most complete of shroud?
Absolute, scrupulous, unforgetful.
Which leaves nothing once endowed
but those left perpetually mindful.
For the nothingness that remains
belongs to those of who remain.
Heart’s clasped memories
Eyes teary stains
Enduring, unending, eternalizing pain.
Which to the learned is realized
is not in vain
For nothing to them forever will remain the same.

[tailor STATELY]

http://static.freepik.com/free-photo/dark---statue_19-133045.jpg


A Latter-day Jean Valjean
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JP31L6AhB3M


Tracked down by technology - the very technology he
had craved betrayed him; dourly he imagines himself
a latter-day Jean Valjean with a wry sense of honor
Time was always against him he realizes; every moment
spent with his purloined gains - broadcast in real time


Real time in another sense, he sighs, wasn't to be his fate -
the owner desiring only precious scriptures and a lesson
prepared on the stolen iPad; forgiven: the shattered glass
window of the family car, the few odds and ends of leftover
July 4th fireworks: the con-issues of the nonfrontation


Safe, almost invisible, he buries his face in his hoodie -
all but hands and feet protected from the elements by a
rain cowl; shame hidden in the anonymity of the streets:
shame for the crime, and being caught, and not being able
to back up his bluster in front of a father with his children

7/8/2014

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

[slipee]

-Withdrawn-

It was pretty bad, and I won't be around again for a long time :)

Nice picture though, it offers a lot of possibilities.




Enjoy.

[Pendragon]

Time's Up!

YesNo: I loved this line: "I look inside his robe. Where did he go?"

Dark Muse: love the closing stanza: "But in the end
he may just be another charlatan
carved from stone,
a fork-tongued devil,
who promises infinity on his left hand,
while the right hand strips you of everything "

dara.cy The words in italics really make this poem

tailor STATELY: Love these lines: "all but hands and feet protected from the elements by a
rain cowl; shame hidden in the anonymity of the streets: "

There can only be one winner, and I chose dar.cy! You're upnext! Congrats!

[dara.cv]

I had taken a hiatus from this site for awhile. Due to some recent bouts of loss I found myself seeking solace in poetry. Just so happened that you posted the most appropriate picture for my mood these days. Thank you Pendragon.

How about Due my birthday, August 5th

9329

[ampoule]

Who's Counting?

Hundreds of reasons for staying on top,
But looking below I'd like to drop
Down to the center of my serial spin,
Reimbursing my soul all over again.

For there in the middle so far below,
The beginning of earning this life that I know,
But somehow between the first and the last
I'll gather the bundles that make up my past.

Then slowly I'll start the uphill climb
For it matters not, I have the time
To linger upon each step that I mount,
Hoping that I have made it all count.

[YesNo]

Spiral stair of money,
Black hole waits below
So tiny we can’t see it:
Why stop now? Let’s go!

[Pendragon]

Like a dream that's filled with riches
Like a wealthy spiral stair
Flowing bills that seem unending
Floating strangely in the air
They hover fast and hover faster
Giving just a tantalizing touch
Greed is like a cancer
But you can never have too much
Thousands of Bens are what you find
In the windmills of your mind

Pendragon
(C) 7/20/2014

[tailor STATELY]

and she's buying


the stairway to heaven
prolly isn't
paved with Benjamins;
the antithesis far likely so -
spiraling down with good intentions
a perdition bound
treasure ladened
ever malapropos

8/1/2014

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

[dara.cv]

Thank you all for the submissions, Im not an English major or well learned in writing so I hope my critiques still hold value for each of you.

Tailor Stately: Strong message conveying that money is inherently evil and no good can come from it; as suggested in my favorite verse: "spiraling down with good intentions". I have always believed myself that charitable acts far outweigh charitable contributions. Reads well with a powerful voice.

Pendragon: I love the whimsical rhythm, it adds an hypnotic element to the dreamy visual cues of spirals and windmills. "Greed is like a cancer, But you can never have too much" Love this line, befitting to the concept but seems to stand out in an awkward contrast from the rest of the poem.
Seems the ending is incomplete and could've continued, which makes the whole seem to reoccur in its own whirlwind.

YesNo: lol, No fear of the unknown here! Love how free-spirited this is.

and lastly the winner:

Ampoule-I just love the breath and depth of the metaphors/analogies here. This conjured so much meaning for me.
The first stanza questioned the efforts of accumulating wealth,status, etc as indebted to the nature of the soul. The second seemed to realize the person's life is not only valued by all the years of their own "earnings" but by those who "paid" their way from their birth. The third sums everything up to the hope that their life is lead in a worthy way.
I love how even if read without the original picture in mind this poem would still strike the reader to think about what has brought value to their lives. LOVE!

Thanks again everyone!

[Pendragon]

Congrats, Lady Amp!

[tailor STATELY]

Congratulations ampoule; and thank you dara.cv.

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

[ampoule]

OMgosh! Thank you so much. I was so in hopes that the poem could stand alone without the picture and you answered that for me. Your critiques were just fine. I hope I can do as well.

Sorry it took me so long to get back. I will search for a picture, pronto.

[ampoule]

How do you attach a picture so that it shows here? Thanks. Well, I couldn't get it to work. Sorry. I do hope this picture gives you inspiration. Can't wait to read your poems.
Deadline: August 30

[cacian]

ampoule is that a portrait of someone in particular? a writer?

[ampoule]

Actually it's an award winning photo of my grandfather.

[YesNo]

Upon his lap are two more eyes
To analyze the world out there,
Awaiting patiently surprise,
Coordinated, well-aware.

If one of them were a machine,
Would they enjoy that lap as much?
They both seek out what can be seen
Beyond the window linked through touch.

[Pendragon]

He gazes out the window
His little dog stares as well
His daily dose of life as it goes by
There's his neighbor doing laundry
The postman with the mail
Old Lady Jones with binoculars to her eye

Simple life and simple treasures
Shared with a shaggy four legged friend
He smiles as he sees something to amuse
Until the days fade into memory
The two silent in the ground--
But he left you a restful legacy to use!

Pendragon
(C) 8/17/2014

[ampoule]

Anyone else? Two days left.

[ampoule]

Thank you, YesNo and Pendragon. I think there was a third entry but they must have deleted it? :( I wish more people would participate in this thread. I enjoy this so much, however, I am lousy at critiquing. I will, though, give it a go.

Yes/No: "coordinated, well aware"...amazing that you picked up on that for it is true, if Grandpa looked out the window, so did Smokey. If Grandpa moved, so did Smokey. They really were in-sync. The second stanza really intrigued me and made me think of a laptop computer, the eyes to the world, the window to the world. In one instance the touch of life and companionship through a living breathing pet. In the other, perhaps not as 'warm', nevertheless a comforting companion through the touch of a keyboard. Am I even close?

Pendragon: As always, you have brought life to the picture you are writing about, for I could also 'see' everything he might be seeing out that window. It is a quiet picture and that is how you presented it, quiet on the inside watching the action on the outside. I loved 'daily dose of life as it goes by'. How many tmes I have sat across the room looking at that 'picture' in real life.

This is difficult. I almost want to toss a coin, but that really would be a cop-out, I suppose. There is just something about that intriguing lap comparison so I will go with YesNo. Thank you both again. I look forward to the next photo.

[Pendragon]

Congrats, YesNo! :wave:

[YesNo]

Thank you, ampoule! And thanks, Pendragon! I thought the touch of the dog would be far more satisfying than that of a machine, but I suppose we can be tied to inanimate objects as well. I enjoyed the critique, ampoule.

I will try to have a new picture up today sometime.

Here is the next picture. It comes from the Chauvet Cave:

https://www.google.com/search?q=chauvet+cave+pictures&sa=X&espv=2&tbm=isch&imgil=WUyM6sWBQA1RKM%253A%253B9tVu9_o_I3pAZM%253Bh ttp%25253A%25252F%25252Fwww.bradshawfoundation.com %25252Fchauvet%25252Fchauvet_cave_paintings.php&source=iu&fir=WUyM6sWBQA1RKM%253A%252C9tVu9_o_I3pAZM%252C_&usg=__zvPIJpsuX93pV3L_xGTWvIKjS_Q%3D&ei=-lQGVIzhC8zHgwSBl4GIBQ&ved=0CCgQ9QEwBA&biw=1286&bih=537#facrc=_&imgdii=_&imgrc=WUyM6sWBQA1RKM%253A%3B9tVu9_o_I3pAZM%3Bhttp% 253A%252F%252Fwww.bradshawfoundation.com%252Fchauv et%252Fgallery%252Fphoto2b.jpg%3Bhttp%253A%252F%25 2Fwww.bradshawfoundation.com%252Fchauvet%252Fchauv et_cave_paintings.php%3B750%3B540

Deadlline September 21st

[Hawkman]

I've already written this poem (http://www.online-literature.com/forums/showthread.php?57075-Chauvet-%96Pont-d%92-Arc&p=971964&viewfull=1#post971964) :D

[YesNo]

That will work for the contest. Thanks, Hawkman!

Anyone else?

[Dark Muse]

Cave Paintings

Venture into the primal depths,
where shades of apparitions
seem to dance in the dwindling
evening light.

Buffalo leaps over the fire,
sacred tribal rites,
may the old gods
whose names are long forgot,
grant the hunters spear
with true flight
and the Earth sacrifice
life for life.

Stories unfold
though they may yet
still conceal mysteries
of their own,
a weaving of complexity
within subtle simplicity.

The Ancestral spirits
are laughing in the shadows
for all our perceived knowledge
is but the dim light of a dying
candle flame compared
to the wisdom
passed in secret silence
from horse to man.

[tailor STATELY]

“One Original Thought is worth 1000 Meaningless Quotes.” - Banksy... http://news.yahoo.com/photos/best-of-banksy-1427919390-slideshow/best-of-banksy-photo-1427919103192.html


Chauvet walls are one thing -

Thrust a mote into the public's eye

And it's like: it's only graffiti


3/30/2015 r.3/31/2015

http://www.gocomics.com/lio/2015/04/27

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

[YesNo]

I see I have neglected this one. I will have a winner announced tomorrow on April 1st. There is still one day left to enter!

[Pompey Bum]

Spirit Cave

Only this I ask of you,
Trespasser in the black womb
Of our mother's night:
When you have frightened up
Those horses from their doom,
And written them into her fertile sides,
Then trace there, too, your hand,
And I will look upon my hand, unfurled,
And so the mist of both our worlds
May come to touch us both,
And send the spirits soaring
From her mouth.

[YesNo]

Time is up!

Hawkman: I like the last stanza held together with "bears" and "years".

Dark Muse: The Ancestral spirits in the last stanza laughing at us thinking we understand what we see on that cave wall is very nice.

tailor STATELY: Yes, that wall was the first graffiti that we are currently aware of.

Pompey Bum: Nice sound to this poem of the spirit cave and the spirits soaring from it.

They were all good!

The winner, and the one to keep the contest going, is Hawkman!

[tailor STATELY]

Congratulations Hawkman !

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

[Pompey Bum]

Yes, congratulations, Hawk. I liked your poem particularly.

[Pompey Bum]

Pssssssst, Hawk, you won. Post another picture, wouldja?

[Hawkman]

Sorry everyone. I kind of forgot about this, and anyway, didn't really expect to win as I didn't actually put the poem up in the thread, just a link :D

Thanks anyway to all who liked it :). Commiserations to anyone who didn't and especially to those who actually posted poems... Interestingly, there was a bit in the Guardian the other day about the fake Chauvet experience being offered as a tourist attraction in France. The actual cave art is far too fragile to withstand hordes of visitors and the detrimental effect of their collective bad breath. But the reviewer slammed the exhibit as false and lacking the connective experience of seeing the real thing and being in the actual place with its dank air and drippings. Can't please some people. :D

Right, well I've been having trouble posting actual images to the forum for some time now. Whenever I try, I'm unable to insert an image into a post at all, only an attachment. So when I get the chance, that'll be the best that I can do. Sorry.

Edit: ok Let's try this...

http://www.online-literature.com/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=9540&d=1429340580

Now that should be a bit of a challenge :devil:

Deadline: Midnight GMT 1st May

[Gilliatt Gurgle]

Hawkman, unfortunately I'm not seeing the image, of course it may be something wrong at my end(?)
Perhaps someone else can verify.
If you like, perhaps you and I could work together on the side on getting your photos posted or I could post the image for you.

[North Star]

It seems to be a single (white?) pixel.


A little speck
on the screen
wiped away

All our lives
and the Earth
one day.

[Hawkman]

Oh dear, this image posting business is really winding me up! It's actually displaying on my system, for once, although I have to be logged in to see it. I'll try it as an attachment below.

9542

[Pompey Bum]

Okay, got it. Great picture. :)

[tailor STATELY]

http://www.online-literature.com/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=9542&d=1429363387;

if this works I used the following (so far it previews ok)...
then url: http://www.online-literature.com/forums/attachment.php?attachmentid=9542&d=1429363387

(lol) Used this meme as part of my endiing line when I wrote "Gazelle".

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

[Pompey Bum]

In desert wastes, where no relief I found
But faith, I met a beast whose labors said
That there were works untried on earthen grounds
Although to me all fissured dry and dead.
A god, it seemed, and many hungry ghosts
Agreed, and called it LORD and God of Flies;
And death, they said, would die before its host,
Where now it pushed the sun across the skies.
I saw its armored pincers and crab gait,
Its insect face pressed to the ball it loved:
A thing evolved by blind and vacant hate;
Like Cain, its course marked by an eye above.
So Venus rose at length and filled the sky,
But neither followed Life and nor did I.

[YesNo]

Beetle, beetle having fun
Rolling up a ball
Bigger, bigger, almost done
Beetle you’re so small.
Sisyphus had rolled one, too,
Despairing at the top,
But you don’t care what humans do.
You roll, refuse to stop.

[Pompey Bum]

Are we allowed to enter more than one horse?

The Beetle
(apologies to W. Blake)

Beetle, beetle, burning bright,
Rolling up a ball of sh*te:
What infernal sort of species
Likes to play with others' feces?

What the f*ck? Oh what the heck?
Where exactly is your neck?
Where your waist and where your thighs?
In what deep and distant skies?

What the hammer? What the chain?
In what burrow dwells thy brain?
What the nerve & what the gall
Persuaded you to build that ball?

When the poo was downward falling,
Did you hear your maker calling?
Did He smile his work to see?
Did he who made the cr*p make thee?

Beetle, beetle, burning bright,
Rolling up a ball of sh*te:
What infernal sort of species
Likes to play with others' feces?

[tailor STATELY]

Sisyphus; and Sun Wukong, the Monkey King

Sun Wukong, the Monkey King, traveling far and wide
met Sisyphus one day toiling with his infernal stone.
Sisyphus importuned, after pleasantries were exchanged,
besought the Monkey King's great compassion to
give the condemned a respite from his eternal toil.

Being no stranger to stone the Monkey King set the
massive rock before his shoulder and rolled the boulder
clear up the hill with powers far beyond any mortal man.
Hermes, ever vigilant, flew to scold the Monkey King
promising sore judgment if he would not right his wrong.

Sun Wukong, the Monkey King, piqued as never before
formulated an avengement upon the winged one; and so
to Sisyphus Sun Wukong declared: "You shall not find im-
punity for my sake, but I shall grant you one boon" - bid-
ding Sisyphus to transform into a dung beetle; and before
Hermes' eyes the Monkey King conjured up a fog; then with
a somersault he and Sisyphus did henceforth disappear.

4/23/2015 r.4/25/2015
(dedicated to Robin Jay & Wendy Margaret on their birthdays)

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

[Hawkman]

Thank you, comrades, for participating in this round. Pompey, ever exuberant, provided two offerings, but alas, although the first, in the form of a Shakespearean sonnet employs flawless iambic pentameter, with but a single dodgy rhyme, I fear the poem lacks coherence. The end result is a confusion of ingenious ideas which don't necessarily flow all that logically from the classical references. Everyone has picked up on Sisyphus allusion, as the unfortunate scarab is condemned to endlessly roll a ball bigger than itself, and, of course, the Egyptian deity who was responsible for rolling the sun across the sky is remembered, but though the names of many and various gods and mythical characters have been bandied about, poor old Khepre remains nameless :D

Pompey, you second offering, though very amusing, I feel would have been better entered into a famous quoted line contest! I think this would have worked better if you had not so closely mirrored the original. Whereas a tiger or even a tyger, might be described as buning bright, owing to its colouration, this particular beetle is rather dull, and though Khepre's ball wass the flaming orb of the sun, the one in the photograph looks a little too moist to burn ;) "What the hammer? what the chain?" didn't work particularly well in Blake's original! One should always remember that he was a bit potty :D

tS, your take, with its eclectic blending of classical Greek and Chinese mythologies, is certainly original but to me reads rather prosaically. There are moments of rhythm, but they become lost amid the fairytale style. Some of your line breaks, mid word, don't work for me, especially as there is no constraint on line length through regular syllable count. But the narrative works quite well. I did rather like the playfulness of "...shoulder to the Boulder..."

Which brings us to Y/N. Your piece was both simple and effective so I declare you to be the winner.

Thanks again to all who took part. Live and be well - H

[Pompey Bum]

Congratulations, YesNo! And don't worry, Hawk. My poetry has soared over taller heads than yours. ;-)

[YesNo]

Thanks, Hawkman and Pompey Bum! I will try to get a new picture ready by tomorrow.

[YesNo]

The next picture is a photo of the strange lights on Ceres.

http://mashable.com/2015/02/25/strange-lights-dwarf-planet-ceres/

Deadline in a couple of weeks or so.

[YesNo]

Any entries for this one? I will set a tentative deadline for June 2, 2015.

[cacian]

strange lights
appearance white
against a dark
magnetic grey
spark sight
it is because
a reflection
of late
of a shape scate
and a metal state
have caught up straight
they wish to appear great
hence the image made

[mazHur]

deleted,,,reason, duplicated post accidently
sorry

[mazHur]

It sounds like Canterbury Tales
A struggle between good and bad
A choice given to humans all
Unlike a one-door Sesame Street
These two round glaring gateways
Non-return doorways to final destiny
After terrestrial fate loses its hold
And ephemereal force shepherds you
To those enticing glaring holes
For you to choose any one of the entrances
If you chose the wrong door
You will miss the green channel
And Gabriel and his army of Angels
Will at once apprehend you
And take you for customs
As they would know
You were carrying contraband of sins
Your Evil deeds that you had committed
while enjoying life on Earth
You will be surely thrown into Hell

[tailor STATELY]

Ye Momes

Ceres twinks and blinkys creating furrowed brow...
Perhaps ye mystery shall be discovered soon
but ye tulgeys shan't idly give up its whimsy
4
dimensional beings among us disavow
testing mere mortals with trialish beam balloons
whilst we gyre with our science rendered mimsy

6/1/2015

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

[YesNo]

Thanks for all the entries. There is one more day left in this contest!

[YesNo]

Thank you for all the entries!

cacian: I liked the idea that they "wish" to appear that way.

mazHur: The sense that these are two doors and we are required to pick one and we might be trying to carry the contraband of our sins through that door makes this one very interesting.

tailor STATELY: I enjoyed the whimsy-mimsy rhyme and the suggestion of some other beings testing us.

I expect we will find an explanation for these lights soon, but maybe not. Anyway, thank you for contributing to this contest!

The winner: mazHur

Congratulations!

[tailor STATELY]

Congratulations mazHur!

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

[mazHur]

Congratulations mazHur!

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY


thanks a lot , buddy

[mazHur]

here is the picture for the next contest,,,9595




https://scontent-sjc2-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xpa1/v/t1.0-9/1458613_699998876736486_2697078043844633537_n.jpg? oh=3877d16bcf36b20380a3641a38e7ff1e&oe=55F30288

[YesNo]

One, I’ve started up the stairs.
Two, I noticed no one cares.
Three, I’m rising to the top.
Four, I don’t think I will stop.
Five, I’ve left the floor below.
Six, there’s seven more to go.
Seven. I’m too tired for eight.
I’ll take a break, procrastinate.

[Pendragon]

Um, shall we restart this contest? Here's a picture. Deadline is December 21st which is my wife and I's wedding anniversary!

http://artfiles.alphacoders.com/197/19737.jpg

[YesNo]

The angel kneels and spreads her wings
Though dark they’re full of grace.
Respected, too. The choir sings.
Her violin has magic strings.
She bows to hide her face.

Her hair is long. Her nails are black.
Her clothes are dark as well.
The clouds torment the twisted sky.
The ground below is cracked and dry.
Soon rain will come to hell.

[mazHur]

One, I’ve started up the stairs.
Two, I noticed no one cares.
Three, I’m rising to the top.
Four, I don’t think I will stop.
Five, I’ve left the floor below.
Six, there’s seven more to go.
Seven. I’m too tired for eight.
I’ll take a break, procrastinate.

Sorry, I had simply forgotten that I had to announce result. But since there was almost no inducement except one therefore I take this wakeup call to pronounce YesNo as the winner!
Congrats

[mazHur]

Pen is welcome to blow new spirit in this thread ....
Congrats on your wedding versary :)

[tailor STATELY]

Muriel's Lament

Weep, Muriel, Angelic warrior

Was thy unconditional love wasted

upon thy fallen brothers and sisters -

fully one-third of the Heavenly hosts ?



HIS song of everlasting salvation

flourished upon thine instrument of war

did turn the tide of battle; ye who are

Heavenly blessed - held in deepest reserve


12/3/2015 r.12/11/2015 r.12/14/2015

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

[Pendragon]

it's the 21st and time for judging.

Both poems were solid poetry.

YesNo, your poem seemed made for that picture. Congrats!

God Bless

Pen

[YesNo]

Thanks, Pendragon!

Here is a photo I took before a sunrise over Lake Michigan from a park north of Chicago. The bright point at the upper right hand corner is Venus. I went there to watch Venus, Jupiter, Mars, and Mercury prior to dawn earlier this Fall. Toward the center top around one of the hanging seed pods you can barely see Jupiter faintly in the picture.

http://i1136.photobucket.com/albums/n494/Yes-No-Maybe/Venus%20Before%20Dawn%20Over%20Lake%20Michigan.jpg (http://s1136.photobucket.com/user/Yes-No-Maybe/media/Venus%20Before%20Dawn%20Over%20Lake%20Michigan.jpg .html)

Deadline: January 10th

[Dark Muse]

Sky Lover

The sky hovers
just above
the horizon
in disquieting
stillness,
forever yearning
to touch
a lover
who remains
forever out of reach
though dawn blushes
with sympathetic feeling
at passions inflamed
and denied.

[Pendragon]

Against an Evening Sky

A spell is written in the leaves
Half-formed letters silhouetted against the sky
Some of them familiar, some symbols unique
Perhaps a linguist should give them a try

Is it a blessing or is it a vile curse?
Will it bring you good luck, or take it away?
Why is it that people usually suspect the worst,
Never seeing that good might be the words of the day?

Could it be Mother Nature has written a spell,
Tired of how us humans are destroying everything?
The dark letters in the air somehow give me a chill
Strung out on the branches like knots in a string

Reading the letters might be danger and doom
Black against the sky in the gathering gloom...

Pendragon
12/23/2015

[YesNo]

Two great entries! I will announce a winner this Sunday. There is still time to enter!

[mazHur]

Universe clad in a burqa
Catches a beholder's eyes
All to him is not visible
Through the lens though he tries

Earth and sky meet together
Like beans in a pod
Like the Light of Heaven
Symbolizing Face of God

Colors scattered here and there
Like the makeup on a Bride's face
Venus gleaming through the hijab
Like a mole on the chin of her Grace

The sight of sparkling universe
concealed in a thin silken veil
Manifests its rarest charm and beauty
To its sincere lovers who its love do hail.

[YesNo]

Thank you for all the entries! The contest is over.

mazHur: That's a nice idea about the universe being hidden like a woman in a burqa.

Pendragon: That was an interesting way to view the leaves in the photos as letters making up a spell.

Dark Muse: Nice idea of the frustration between the sky and the horizon with the blushing dawn.

I enjoyed them all. The winner is mazHur! Congratulations!