Subject Poetry Contest. [Archive] - Page 2

TheFifthElement

05-01-2010, 02:45 PM

Longridge House, 15th June 1996

For Les

It is the day before Father's day. Everyone’s shopping.
The overspill spreads from the shops to the streets
where balloon toting children drip ice cream
and shriek for a doll, or a ball or some similar treat
while their parents feign deafness and strangers retreat
to the bunkered recesses of the lesser known streets.

Sunshine strobes out between alley and cloud searing
stripes on the pavements, buildings, and the crowd,
scattering like shrapnel from the centre of town.

Megaphone, exclusion zone, cordon tape, police
explode into action on these Manchester streets.

But not here, in this office block next to the shops
where he waits, ever patient, watching
the clock as it booms its slow way past eleven o’ clock.

He wipes over the counter, sweeps dust from the stairs,
scrubs grease marks from marble, smoothes down his hair,
straightens the guestbook, papers and pen,
empties the bin, wipes the counter again,
and when everything’s right, and everything’s neat
he stands by the window looking out on the street.

Shielded by silence of steel, stone and glass
his thoughts linger on something he saw
the night before last about consciousness,
awareness, the mind, memory. About neurons
connecting, what it means to be me;
how our existence relies on a subtle chemistry.

Through red, white, blue loops electricity seeps,
in the bomb in the van parked outside on the street

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3…

AuntShecky

05-04-2010, 01:56 PM

Thanks for all of these thought-provoking entries so far. There's still time to get in it -- and maybe win it! Please post your subject poem on or before Monday, May 10. (And say a prayer that Pong II doesn't fail me so I can make the big announcement!)

qimissung

05-08-2010, 10:44 PM

Caterpillar

it's weedy now
trees and bushes grown up around it
like vines across sleeping beauty's castle but when I broke free of it's
clutching, loving
arms it sat
tidy as a spinster
and, as I thought, as dry

only now can I see that I was not
entombed like Juliet
that all the growing I had left to do
was my stone with sword;
mine the words to find
mine the gown to make
the crown to find
I drank from the milkweed
and
my metamorphosis
nourished there,
I flew away

Sometime I think
I'm still waiting for the powder
on my wings to dry

Qimissung

AuntShecky

05-10-2010, 03:54 PM

Thanks for all of the entries so far. This leg of the contest will remain open for the rest of today and this evening. The "lucky" winner will be announced
soon.

AuntShecky

05-11-2010, 05:10 PM

Once again, thank you to all of these brave LitNutters who made the effort to compose a verse and post it in this contest thread. Well, I couldn't get out of jury duty this time, and now I must render a verdict. I sincerely hope that I have given these poems justice.

For this round of the subject poetry contest, the choice of topics was deliberately broad, in the hopes of getting really diverse and distinctive entries. Reply # 244 above says that the subject this time around was "change" (either temporary or permanent) upon a specific place and its effect upon a particular individual. The operative words were "specific" and "particular," so the goal was for entries that featured evocative images which avoided clichés and abstractions, all arranged in some kind of form closer to poetry rather than scatter-shot lines of prose. And yes, just as in the rules for a commercial jingle contest, "originality" DOES count!

As a person who has made more than her share of on-line gaffes, I'll be the first to admit that failing to proofread can be a pitfall. Still I was chagrined to see that some entrants forgot to check their work. Even though this round of the contest allowed for later editing, a number of entries still contained errors in spelling, grammar, and punctuation, including, I hasten to add, the winning entry.

Others were unable to make the quantum leap from tried and true prose over to the startling and surprising poetry, but some came pretty damn close.

Although it was extremely difficult to choose a winner, each of the entries undeniably had a redeeming quality. To wit:

"After Twenty Years" by Pendragon (Reply # 249) relates to those of us old enough, alas, to have a past by recounting the familiar situation of running into an old flame at a funeral.

The Comedian (Reply #250) earns high marks for posting an entry that includes the called-for "specifics.," in the place "Reservoir Number Six," in the clothes which the speaker is not only wearing at the moment but also at home, and other details, right down to the detailed pieces of crap, er, litter that the speaker picks up. This verse has extra added attraction of meter and rhyme, along with flashes of wit.

The speaker of "War Torn" (#252) by Dark Muse evokes tragic youthful memories with a view of a former battlefield.

Haunted's "School Grounds" begins by revisiting a childhood classroom and noting its changes. Then shifting focus, the speaker recalls a former classmate, and with childish punctuation, describes her as "timid. invisible. pathetic." Hence she is vulnerable to bullies, but in a subtle way, the reader learns that the little girl has no greater enemy than herself. The tired old expression "egg on my face" is literally turned on its head in this poem. The piece ends with a phrase we hear in some context almost everyday surges with renewed power and haunts the reader with disturbing ambiguity: no choice to do what? Or is the speaker the little girl herself? Even the poem's appearance on the "page" is noteworthy: reminiscent of writing on a blackboard or scrawls on a sidewalk. This outstanding verse gets better every time I read it.

Childhood is also the theme of the untitled piece by Stepothenight (#257), a short piece about a playground, abandoned after a horrific crime.

Another untitled piece comes from Krymsonkyng (#258). Since it has a musical theme, the verse attempts to do does what it says, "groove" and dance, with rhyming couplets, judicious use of enjambment, and even internal rhyme "A breakdown of flow and though." Another appealing feature was this line "Does the sky move her, or she the air?" which is followed up by a slightly later echo: "She moves the sound as much as moves me." This was a remarkable entry.

The late film critic Gene Siskel once said that the best screenwriters film use actual events and show the effect of these current events upon the fictional characters. If memory serves, Siskel was talking about the film version of Milan Kundera's [I]The Unbearable Lightness of Being. Another novel that comes to mind is The Dean's December by Saul Bellow. "Longridge House 15th June 1996" by TheFifthElement fits into that category, as if you read the author's blog --which includes photos, you'll see that her poem is based on an actual event, a explosion from a car bomb. People go about their business of the day -- and in a split second--everything changes. This piece contains some startling images: "the crowd shattering like shrapnel" as well as psychological insight: "shielded by steel, stone and glass/his thoughts linger on something he saw/the night before last." This was an emotionally-charged dynamic piece of verse.

And last but not least, when the instructions called for the effect of change upon an "individual" it didn't specify "human." So, kudos to qimissung for her creativity in thinking outside the species for "Caterpillar," (#263.) In this piece the caterpillar notes the changes when it returns to its birthplace (a chrysalis or cocoon.) The text alludes to fables and fairytales "Sleeping beauty's castle" and uses a fresh and apt simile: "tidy as a spinster." Well-done!

Well, there you have it. There is no doubt that each of these entries has merit and some conceivably could, with a few rewrites, be eminently publishable. I hope I have the privilege of reading more of your work on the LitNet and elsewhere. Give yourselves a pat on the back and see you soon. . .

Not so fast, there, Haunted! Your poem takes this round. Please take a bow and tell us what the next subject is, please!

Haunted

05-11-2010, 06:40 PM

Me? The poetically challenged me? Pinch me! I didn't get around to read the latest entries but I admired every poem that I've had the chance to read.

Thanks AuntSchecky, you review is far better than the poem! Yes, the speaker is the little girl. The word to solving it is "dissociation". It's when the mind/self, seeking to escape traumatic experiences, splits off from the person and take on a third person identity.

I'll be back with a new subject in a few days.

The Comedian

05-11-2010, 08:02 PM

Yay Haunted! Congratulations. Your poem was most excellent indeed.

And excellent subject and reviews by Auntie.

My poem finger and gettin' a trigger itch, haunted -- can't wait for the next round.

Maryd.

05-11-2010, 08:10 PM

Oh my dear Haunted... Knew you could do it...Well done girl... So much passion. Phew, I wipe my brow.
Congrats dear.

Haunted

05-11-2010, 10:54 PM

Comedian and Mary, thanks for your kind words!

I don't want Comedian's trigger itch to keep him awake, so here we go...

subject: bus stop

deadline: 6/10

BienvenuJDC

05-11-2010, 11:44 PM

Vivid passion and realism. Haunted, you write like I know that you can.....awesome...

Maryd.

05-12-2010, 12:03 AM

Vivid passion and realism. Haunted, you write like I know that you can.....awesome...

Here, here...

autolycus

05-12-2010, 01:46 AM

The gutter beside me, oiled-water grey
The rain's falling on my back today
The eyes of a rat are brighter than mine
See how they shine, oh, see how they shine...

Old man move on, nobody talks to me
Come on I'm hearing things, I can't see
He puts the boot in, I'm clutched and I'm gripped
Something gives way. I feel something ripped.

I feel my blood pop sizzling down the drain
I piston out but can feel no pain

I have carried the burden of many
Served both the street and the company
My mates died in action, my girl is gone,
Nothing explains why I'm going on.

A rib gives way now as I hug the post
The light in the rain dimmer than most
There's swearing. I must be blocking the street
The narrow way where they and I meet.

What do they feel as they wait for the bus
As I go limp without any fuss?

I sense from them all only despair
As my ghost leaks out into the air.

I, Leyland 63 178 Red
Failed in my duty and am now dead.
Remember me to your mom and your pop;
Remember the night you saw the bus stop.

qimissung

05-12-2010, 10:31 PM

Congratulations, Haunted. It was so poignant. You handled the subject with such heart and grace. Aunty chose well.

Dark Muse

05-12-2010, 11:19 PM

Abandoned

Paper crinkling
like so many
decaying leaves
as it is left
to the mercy
of the wind,
becoming enwrapped
around a waiting
pole.

Yesterdays
news discarded
by some wayward
traveler, a cold
bench, now sits
in still loneliness,
perhaps at moments
acting as a hard
bed.

Has the day
not yet begun,
or just coming
to its end?

But wait,
there is one
who arrives
in a time honored
tradition
in the spectacle
of canine devotion.

Patiently
waiting,
tail wagging
in anticipation,
when the very air
seems to vibrate,
a hot breath
oily in nature
excreted.

It stops,
doors open
and there files out
a line of strangers
each indifferent
to man's
best fined
who takes in
the passing scents
awaiting that
one familiar.

When it seems
the doors close
too soon,
pensively,
hoping
for a mistake,

A lone howl
disrupts the air
mournful
as it drives away
and no Master
to return home.

The Comedian

05-13-2010, 11:01 AM

I'll throw my hat into the ring. Yeehaw!

To the bus stop, bareback

The old barbed-wire gate --
Then the pond and cattails,
Then the big bare hill and
over sagebrush, sagebrush.

To the bus stop, bareback
Fast freedom to backtrack

From her long mane I swung
Like Christmas tinsel and
She would run, run, run, run --
The halter not halting.

To the bus stop, bareback --
The old coal railroad track.

There's always a gate at
The end of a good ride.
And there's always a bus
On the way to somewhere.

To the bus stop, bareback --
My Wyoming circle back.

stephofthenight

05-13-2010, 03:12 PM

sorry it took me so long to get back here, Haunted congrats, yours was by far my favorite this round, I enjoyed all the pieces from it as well.

Haunted

05-13-2010, 09:28 PM

I'm thrilled to see the early entries, keep them coming!

Bien, Qim, Steph, I appreciate your comments and I can't wait to see what you guys come up with!!!

BienvenuJDC

05-13-2010, 09:29 PM

I'm thrilled to see the early entries, keep them coming!

Bien, Qim, Steph, I appreciate your comments and I can't wait to see what you guys come up with!!!

I'm waiting for a hammer to break the writer's block...

Maryd.

05-13-2010, 09:37 PM

I'm waiting for a hammer to break the writer's block...

:brickwall:brickwall:brickwall Will that do?:goof:

Haunted

05-13-2010, 09:57 PM

I'm waiting for a hammer to break the writer's block...

Bien, you already started writing it today, just didn't know it yet:

Everyday when she gets off the bus...and is still excited to see me.

The next hates to see their children becoming independent...

Now write out the rest...

Pendragon

05-14-2010, 07:55 AM

The Bus Stop

She’s walking the streets so far from home
She feels so depressed and now all alone
Wondering if she might have made a mistake
Hoping to survive one more night for heaven’s sake
But the bus stops here…

She turns to a stranger to give her a hand
He gives her the finger; she does not understand
In the town where she lived the people were more polite
Helping each other, making sure all is right
But the bus stops here…

Cold, hungry, and lonely and filled with remorse
She finds herself traveling from bad to much worse
Making a dollar the only way that she can
To eat and find a place she can lay her head
But the bus stops here…

Finally coming to her senses and swallowing her pride
She finds a dark, deserted phone booth and she ducks inside
Dials that familiar number, now mom’s on the line
“Sure you can come home, baby, everything will be fine
Remember, the bus still stops here.”

Pendragon
Friday, May 14, 2010

DanielBenoit

05-30-2010, 05:52 PM

miss spelled scribblings

sitting at bus stop
across from
white haired
grey faced
derivative of black-and-white television McCarthyism, raised in Vietman 60's and achromatized in cold 70's

cigarette in her hands
streaming the thoughts of men
passing by

across her, next to me
is homeless Diogenes
still hungover after forty years
of abstemious nights

a tear drops
from the man sitting under the timetable
who has just dropped
his small transparent plastic box of tic-tacs

buses in Europe come from outerspace and like
but here in 'merica we sit in paper bags

In Germany, they build paper-bag bus stops by nursing homes
so that dementia-ridden patients can sit and gravitate to whatever destination they please
on the magic school bus of papier-mâché lunches and Zhuzhu cats.

krymsonkyng

06-03-2010, 09:16 AM

Looking for a double decked bus
though world cup festivities have
wrecked us.
We're teetering down cobbled streets
to meet mysterious faces
and our goal
your place or mine?
Here they speak English
not American
but we mind the hens and
the hounds mind themselves.
What's a bus stop
among friends?
Finding no red buses
leaves us blue
a taxi ride
will have to do.

moonbird

06-07-2010, 07:14 PM

"Hey, look, it's Mini-Bus!" said a tall, pony-tailed girl.
I smiled shyly. "Hi, I'm Michaela."
She waved this away. "Yeah, I know, Ashley's little sis."
"Ashley? As in, The Bus?" another girl asked, eyes wide.
The tall girl grinned. "The same."
At once everyone crowded around me, giggling and talking girlishly.
Among the mass of shrill voices, one word rang out the most:
"Mini-Bus!"
"My name's Michaela," I said, almost pleadingly.
The tall girl rolled her eyes. "You were Michaela. Now you're Mini-Bus."
She slapped me playfully on the back.
I smiled nervously. "But I'd rather get my own nickname, not my sister's."
"Too late!" she replied, skipping away. "See you tomorrow, Mini-Bus!"
"Yeah, later, Mini-Bus!" another called.
"It's Michaela!" I cried.
They laughed and walked away.

So, um, I'm not sure if this exactly fits the theme... or if it even qualifies as a poem at all... but I was bored, so I wrote it. Disqualify me if you must :p

hillwalker

06-08-2010, 07:33 AM

So, uh….. does this Greyhound really go all the way -
Salt Lake City to Sacramento?

Interstate 80
an endless mirage of dust and white concrete freeway
the husk of a rattlesnake on the sliproad
wrapped in vines baked dry like stems of summer lightning

A perpetual convoy of tubular oil tankers
threading along the hemline; green sumps of mildewed salt-lick
and the guy in the next seat zonked out
with his umbilical i-player zoned into some mariachi number

Seems like the horizon is going to sit there all day
waiting for the diesel fumes to blend into the general miasma
of desert heat and burnt rubber and roadkill
as another freightliner thunders past
with its refrigerated stowaways

At the intersection of Idaho Street and 5th in Elko
a pretty girl in cowboy boots and pink denim skirt
catches the eye of my reflection as she waits for the lights
and I raise my hand momentarily
but she’s focused on her mobile busy making other plans for tonight

Slam bang into that hillside
horns blaring as we seek out the cool refuge of tunnel
then an obligatory rest break
in some one-horse town minus the horse
and I’m looking for a place I can buy some ice-cold soda for less than a dollar

Battle Mountain barely registers
Winnemucca: welcome to the real Nevada
and a nod from that cow’s skull grazing for thoughts on the roadside
the echoes of some long forgotten rodeo ricocheting off its horns

Did that sign really say Reno?
Let me off at Reno.
Grab my rucksack, hit the sidewalk running
and I’m back in Salt Lake

So you getting on or not, kid?
Nah – think I’d better sit this one out.
Might make tomorrow the day I finally decide to run away from home.

Haunted

06-09-2010, 01:01 PM

What wonderful entries so far! Just one more day to go.... Those who're still penning out your poems, be sure to post them by June 10, 11:59pm.

stephofthenight

06-10-2010, 02:17 AM

*Pendragon, your poem is wonderfull I love the steady flow than the abrupt repetition of the bus stops here, its a beautiful poem.

*Hillwalker, I love the imagry in your poem.

*Moonbird, I like it. Not sure if it fits the theme but thats up to the judge, would make an interesting short story if you wanted to expand on it.

*Krymsokyng, Interesting. I like the way you structured your poem.

*DB, I loved your poem! I like almost everything you do but this is my favorite. I love how you structured it, and the way it reads. It provokes feelings that made me go back and re-read it two or three times to see if it was really saying one thing, or another. :) I like it!!!

*Comedian, minus the cattails I loved yours :) sorry but I hate those things, jk. I really enjoyed reading it, and the imagry, it brought back memorys of riding through the fields..hmm wonder if my horses would appreciate me waking them up right now.. It was an enjoyable read.

*Dark Muse, your poem gave me chills! It was incredible, you are really a very talented poet! my favorite was the ending about the howling with no master at home and this one.
"Has the day
not yet begun,
or just coming
to its end?"
I always enjoy how you use your structure to help convey the feelings you want your reader to feel. I admire your writing greatly.

*Autolycus, I have not seen your work before, but I enjoyed this piece, I will have to go look some more up. You deffinitly have talent, I like how you phrase things, and "I feel the blood pop, pouring down the drain, I piston out but feel no pain" that is one of my favorites in your poem. well written.

Thanks everyone for letting me read your poems, HAUNTED, I'm glad your the judge of this round! Its going to be tough! Goodluck to all. :) Can't wait for the next subject maybe I'll enter that one if I have more time. Just thought I would throw my opinion of everyones work in since I was not entering. Hope I didnt step on any toes.

krymsonkyng

06-10-2010, 04:20 AM

Woohoo! Congrats to all participants, especially Haunted! Such good stuff...

Haunted

06-10-2010, 09:54 AM

CORRECTIONS...they really meant Dark Muse. Haunted didn't write anything, she's judging *glump*

*Haunted, your poem gave me chills! It was incredible, you are really a very talented poet! my favorite was the ending about the howling with no master at home and this one.
"Has the day
not yet begun,
or just coming
to its end?"
I always enjoy how you use your structure to help convey the feelings you want your reader to feel. I admire your writing greatly.

ahh, I love that line too. Just wish I wrote that. It's Dark Muse's poetry.

Woohoo! Congrats to all participants, especially Haunted! Such good stuff...

Dark Muse

06-10-2010, 12:58 PM

CORRECTIONS...they really meant Dark Muse. Haunted didn't write anything, she's judging *glump*

ahh, I love that line too. Just wish I wrote that. It's Dark Muse's poetry.

Thank you very much!

krymsonkyng

06-10-2010, 01:31 PM

... right. yep. totally knew that...

:blush:

stephofthenight

06-10-2010, 06:05 PM

Thank you, you are quite right, I ment Dark Muse, please forgive me my friend lol I am on many pain killers that make me easily confused :blush: But I loved it none the less. I was thinking how much I would hate to be Haunted on this one lol.

Haunted

06-12-2010, 09:28 PM

I feel so privileged to be judge of this round of amazing poems. Any one of you surpasses me in your art and I'm feeling sooo small now *tiny tiny tiny* but I'll do my best job in picking a winner out of winners!!! I mostly agree with my co-judge Steph (lol), here's a bit more of my thoughts.

There was a time when crippled men gathered around bus stops on the streets of Manhattan asking for loose change. One lost both legs and had to drag himself along the sidewalk on his butts. It was gut wrenching to speculate the cause of these tragedies. Then they weren't around anymore. People walked past them everyday until one by one they died off, right on the streets of a country they once served. autolycus's poem is the voice for these forgotten souls. Now, tragedy has a name, Leyland. It's mean, it's gritty, and I digged every word of it.

Dark Muse, such an affecting piece. It draws me right in — the scene of desolation, and the sense of loyalty and unconditional love — so vividly presented. What happened to his master? What will happen to the dog? One may never know. But hope is on the next bus that stops here...even if only false hope.

Pendragon, great use of repetition "the bus stops here…". Same line, but a different bus stop and a whole different world and redemption. It's not a one way trip afterall, one can still return. I like it a lot. May I dedicate this song to you click (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hbm4G_7rGzQ)

Comedian, I've never ridden a horse and the closest thing to riding one is in reading your poem. The short syllables simulate a crisp, robust, rhythmic ride. The horse-bus-railroad convergence is dynamic, I enjoyed it very much.

DanielBenoit, excellent poetry and amazing imageries... "still hungover after forty years / of abstemious nights", tear drops and tic-tacs...paper-bag bus stops and papier-mâché lunches. It's a very memorable piece — and not just for the Zhuzhu cats (hope they're not edible!)

Krymsonkyng, I really like what you did with the subject — the festivities and the partying and the hooking up. The bus stop is symbolic as a point of connection and accidental relationships. It's a cool poem.

moonbird, there's good tension in the exchange, and the nicknames Bus and Mini Bus are totally cute despite being frustrating to the persona. No disqualification for being a prose poem but...I look to the right, I look to the left, where's the bus stop?

Hillwalker, awesome description. This poem has a lot of potential. Is Salt Lake City is on a high elevation and Sacramento in a valley? In addition to a lateral journey, how about a reference to altitude to bring in focus of a young person's life slipping downhill? Maybe the emotionless scenic rundown is necessary to make the twist ending work, but for me personally, without an angst filled landscape the pay off line wasn't quite as believable as a trip played out in the mind of a runaway. Why Sacramento? It's an engrossing piece, I wish there were more!

I have so many favorites but one stands out more than others. autolycus, it seems that your hero won in the end. And he will be remembered. Will you have the honor to pick the next subject....

krymsonkyng

06-13-2010, 05:53 AM

Can I cheer now? Can I? Ah who cares, congrats to everyone who participated!

hillwalker

06-13-2010, 07:23 AM

Haunted - thanks so much for your detailed crit, and your kind words. Your suggestions are extremely valid.

I loved all the entries, and also felt autolycus's piece stood head and shoulders above the others (I read it before posting my piece and almost didn't bother).

Just to clarify - I believe it is written about an actual bus (the death throes of an old Leyland?). If I have misconstrued this piece then I apologise, but it read like a truly touching memorial to an old road warrior.

Thanks again, H

The Comedian

06-13-2010, 02:20 PM

Great work autolycus! I also very much enjoyed your poem.

Pendragon

06-14-2010, 08:52 AM

Pendragon, great use of repetition "the bus stops here…". Same line, but a different bus stop and a whole different world and redemption. It's not a one way trip afterall, one can still return. I like it a lot. May I dedicate this song to you click (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hbm4G_7rGzQ)

Song definitely fits the mood of my poem. Thank you for the kind remarks, and congrads to autolycus!

autolycus

06-14-2010, 10:38 PM

Thank you very much, Haunted! Strangely enough, it was partly based on my experiences in NYC both pre- and post- 9/11, as well as memories of old Leyland buses around the world. I deliberately put both memories of man and bus into one.

The next subject is: "Piles and Piles of Files". Deadline is... Saturday 17 July 2010, 2359 EST.

[ Haha, sorry, I couldn't resist it because this is what I've been seeing in front of me for the last few months. :) ]

The Comedian

06-15-2010, 09:38 AM

Quick question: does the line "piles and piles of flies" have to be in the poem or just the subject matter that the line suggests?

autolycus

06-17-2010, 02:06 AM

The Comedian

06-17-2010, 09:12 AM

Comedian: it's FILES not FLIES :D — or was that a joke :) and yes it's the subject, but does not need to be explicitly quoted in the poem itself... some people take it as a challenge to do so, but that's a personal thing.

:lol: a typo. but I sort of like it piles and piles of flies: sort of hellish. Well, piles and piles of files is also hellish. And all too real hellish for me. ;)

Thanks for the clarification on both points.

The Comedian

07-13-2010, 09:56 AM

Here's my submission:

Pockets

My papers, graphs, and charts --
My pictures, songs, and .docs
Have never seen a box
Nor rode the transfer carts.

My mind molds to pixels.
My heart beats in blinks.
My work is made from cells --
My words of hyperlinks.

Invisible pile
Of my fingers' work:
My pocket-sized flash drive
That consumes my homework.

But my own flash drive
Is mostly case, air, and
Carpentry. My files?
Nowhere -- Dust on the sand.

autolycus

07-14-2010, 03:34 AM

The Comedian: you've given this round a very enjoyable start! Thanks, and let's hope for more to come...

qimissung

07-16-2010, 06:05 PM

OK, here's mine:

The Paper Tiger

The man finished his daily toil,
And on slippered feet left the room
And its piles and piles of files,
Not one of whom but thought that he, or she,
Could better the quiet man at his paper war.

“Hist, my fellow warriors!” called the haughty Agamemnon
“Come round and let us council
I propose that we do more
Than put pen to paper;
I will lead you into battle, which we will
Fight with all glory to ancient Greece!”

“Still at it, you old war horse?” sneered Achilles
"You always did excel at taking things that
Did not, in this world, or in ours, belong to you.
But you can’t paper over this old wrong.
I think I’ll pass on this invitation to raise my sword again.
Briseis asks that we make peace; at the least I’ll not make war.”

“What?” roared the mighty wounded king.
“Still full of hubris, you young pup?
I’ll show you the paper trail!”
And with a great shout flung himself at
The cherry red file folder strutting and preening
At the wide oak desks’ edge, and the other folders,
Anxious not to miss this battle between the ancient foes,
Sprang to their feet, baying, a keening fire
Stirring their soft, worn paper hearts.
“We are worth more than the words printed hereon!
Oh, paper, cut our foes to the bone!”
shouted one knave, and eagerly they dove in, gave chase,
The air soon thick with confetti and joyous rage.

And morning came, cold as a dish of sweet revenge.
The man, late from the murmuring waves of Lethe,
Looked at the carnage wrought,
The little cardboard hearts laid bare
And strewn across the office floor,
The orderly files, dissapated like a bottle
Of wine uncorked and then forgotten.
What had looked good on paper,
A mighty statue
Fallen,
Like any great, lost civilization.

Qimissung

autolycus

07-17-2010, 04:51 AM

qimissung: that is indeed in the epic mode; I was half-expecting to find 'this is the tale of the wrath of Achilles' somewhere in it! :)

autolycus

07-18-2010, 08:44 AM

A DIFFICULT CHOICE

The date of doom came swiftly to the fore;
Two entries only wait now at the door.
The choice of Paris was not harder than
This test of finest judgement to a man.

First comes a comic turn that turns the eye,
Of files that cannot pile or stand or lie;
When is a file that cannot file a file?
Ah, this comedian's art is full of guile.

Then comes an Iliad passionate aflame
A tiger to burn brightly by its name;
These epic dead are bound to disappoint
Their quiet clerk whose nose is out of joint.

How then to judge, between the mind and heart —
One comic turn, another tragic art?
I would give prize to both and not just one —
But in this place, such things are never done.

=====

So now I weasel on my judgement seat
To find the balance-point of choice that's meet.
By closer look, I find Comedian's great
But falling to the legalist's dictate.

You see, my friends, the epic one must win
For qimissung has found a lead, though thin:
Homeric effort leaves its dead in piles
But comic skill has disappeared the files!

=====

I'm sorry for this arbitrary choice
But you gave me the arbiter's own voice —
I now declare for all to clearly see,
That qimissung's the winner narrowly!

qimissung

07-19-2010, 11:19 PM

Thank you, autolycus. I think yours is better than mine. :)

Here, however, is a new subject: an epiphany; please include the phrase "and then fell I under friendly fire."

Dark Muse

07-20-2010, 01:37 AM

Blackout

......and then I fell under friendly fire
staring down the barrel of the gun in your hand
the steam still rises and I cannot erase the look within your eyes,
in the flash of light, the poignant sulfuric odor
I wonder how did I land here in the first place?

It did not begin with a will to die and broken hearts
upon the table ready for dissection
I try to find a moment in which we were happy,
your face is an image burned into my brain
I remember your smiles, but not if those smiles
where intended for me.

There were the ghosts in my head
which you could not live with and the secrets we kept
that bound us.......how many nights spent
finding me with stale coffee and a madman's tears
the look of a wounded deer fixed upon your face.

All the things I tried to forget came rushing back to me
the moment my life was inches away from evaporating
and then at last you would be set free, because I knew
as long as I breathed you could never leave me.

So how did it come that you were the one left
holding the gun....time flash......hit reverse,
the bullet explodes back inside the gun
when I realize I am facing your frozen eyes
behind the glass frame, catching the scent of flowers
on a grave.

I lived my life in a waking dream holding you
by my side, because you were the only thing
keeping me alive, for 20 years after you died
I escaped reality into this fantasy.

and in the end, I made you murder me
because I was always such a coward,
now I sit alone among the broken sorrows
with the blood upon the floor remembering
only falsified memories of a life built up
upon your bones.

qimissung

07-20-2010, 04:06 AM

Wow! I was just kind of checking, not really thinking I'd find anything, and here this is. You really know how to leap out of the starting gates, DM!

Dark Muse

07-20-2010, 04:24 AM

Hahaha, thank you!

DanielBenoit

07-24-2010, 01:13 AM

A Bit of Cinematography

Short stop footsteps downhall show television reflections in their faces

Is that the sound I wait for months in line at a gas station dmv and whatnot?

no,-no

I clearly want to say or err mean what I say and say what I mean and stuff but,-

must ghosts haunt me in the morning fog?
other souls to pounce my falling sleep
the sickly cat and the sagging dog
her face out of memory
elsewhere i am in space and time
relentless indifference steal mine mind

So there it is; a few words, a few birds, to fly around until I awake

And discover in the early morning with the beating Floridean sun

That "under friendly fire" I am won and weary, but in sleep, I am lost but gay.

autolycus

07-24-2010, 04:19 AM

we are friends forever now
and i will love you to death
she said and i was happy
and at the end i wondered
even at the brink and then
i fell under friendly fire

friendly friendly friendly fire
it wasnt that kind of love
at all but it hurt like hell

qimissung

07-24-2010, 07:23 PM

Good ones and interesting, Daniel and autolycus!

hillwalker

07-28-2010, 10:15 AM

Perhaps not everyone's idea of an epiphany..... or even poetry (!) but here goes :

DATING A RED-NECK

Our first ever date was a stylish affair;
there was beer, and burritos with dip.
He acted the gentleman all the way through
til he bit off that chunk from my lip.

He phoned the next night and suggested a ride
all the way past the mall to Belle View.
I offered to make us a picnic, but no,
he said he would be catering for two.

I squeezed a few zits and I sprayed both my ‘pits
then I listened out for his V8 -
and an hour behind schedule his Chevy rolled up
and demolished the neighbours’ front gate.

We listened to ‘Cradle of Filth’ on FM
as he fed me the dirt on his ex;
how she’d cheated and lied once she put on his ring
and ran off with some a$$-hole called Tex.

He pointed out trees that he’d climbed as a kid
and the tiny white church where they married;
that neat little field with alfalfa and clover
where Tex and Ramona were buried.

An hour or so later we parked at the shore
and he opened his trunk sort of slow.
Inside was a Marlin M four forty-four
and a top of the range Compound Bow.

As well as some boxes of buckshot and bolts
a Mossberg lay wrapped in a sheet.
“I’m saving the Mossie for special occasions;
let’s load up and get us some meat.”

I’d not eaten venison straight off the hoof,
or porcupine grilled on a fire.
I’d never drunk JD straight out of the bottle
or taken a leak ‘gainst a tyre.

He’d gone to such trouble I couldn’t say no,
a sleeping bag, Trojans and lube.
Then he starts talking dirty, and spat out his gum
so I pulled both my boobs from my tube.

He said ‘Foreplay’s for lesbians, ain’t that a fact”
and I heard my ma’s words - she’s a hooker -
“All men are the enemy…." and then I fell
under friendly fire from his bazooka.

So while he lit up, feeling pleased with himself,
I straightened my skirt in the Chevy,
reached into my purse for my Heckler & Koch
and left him for dead on the levee.

H

qimissung

07-28-2010, 08:59 PM

um, thank you Hillwalker, for joining the fray.

Pendragon

07-29-2010, 11:32 AM

Stonewall Jackson

I'd been every battle we fought with the North,
Believing in the cause of my beloved South
Never took a bullet in all of that time
Though a couple came mighty darn close
The field was strown with bodies, some ours and more theirs
I thought the battle over and done
Then as I rode in victory back to our ranks
I fell from our own friendly fire
"Let us cross o're the river and rest beneath the trees"
An officer and a gentleman, may I rest in peace

Pendragon

In memory of a Southern hero who died from friendly fire. The next to last line are his final reported words

qimissung

07-29-2010, 10:38 PM

Well done, Pendragon! Of course "friendly fire" was originally a military term, and you have incorporated it quite well in your work. Thanks for joining in.

qimissung

08-07-2010, 03:07 PM

I thought I had given an ending date for this contest, but I see that I have not done so. The last day of this contest will be Monday, August 9, 2010, at noon. My thanks to all who have participated.

qimissung

08-09-2010, 04:07 PM

This contest is now closed. I will be back with the results shortly.

qimissung

08-12-2010, 02:26 PM

And now for the results.

Dark Muse wrote "Blackout," a passionate love letter, one that seemed to come to a very dark end. You wrote in a strong and resonate way about how our lives become interconnected, and not always in a good way. I could relate to this one, and almost written it.

In "A Bit of Cinematography" DanielBenoit wrote about soul-searching, an topic of never-ending interest to me. Very playful use of language as usual; I wish I had your skills, but then you bring out serious tones in a very sophisticated way.

Autolycus wrote of heartbreak, short but pithy and with no shortage of emotional impact.

hillwalker weighed in with "Dating a Redneck." Now as I understand it, hill, you live in Scotland, right? But he writes like someone born and raised in Texas. Good job. And it is funny.

Pendragon wrote a fine poem about Stonewall Jackson. And interestingly, he is the only one who uses the idea of "friendly fire" in it's original sense.

And you know I wanted to give the honor to someone who wrote about "friendly fire" in a more novel way, but this time Pendragon is the winner. It is a fine, almost perfect poem in form, tone and pitch. Congratulations, Pendragon. And now you get to choose the next subject.

Dark Muse

08-12-2010, 02:32 PM

Congrats to Pendragon!

DanielBenoit

08-13-2010, 04:16 AM

Yes congrats on the double win Pen :D

And thank you very much qimi I am so flattered :angel:

Pendragon

08-13-2010, 09:24 AM

Wow, I can hardly believe I won! Thanks Qimi, and to all who entered the contest.

The next subject is: Déjà Vu

I will be looking for the one who manages to use the term correctly and make an interesting, blockbuster poem.

Deadline: September 15

autolycus

08-13-2010, 09:30 AM

Congrats Pen! Now all I have to do is go bust some blocks, yes? :)

hillwalker

08-13-2010, 11:12 AM

Well done Pen, and an interesting challenge you have set us.

....and qim thanks also for your comments (and good choice)

H

hillwalker

08-15-2010, 07:49 AM

DÉJÀ VU (ALL OVER AGAIN)

Nicotine walls - carpet to match - the bar stools lined up like a pint and a chaser
Some lost afternoon - our boats are all grounded - time to get bladdered come hell or high water

I set up my spot - my roll-ups and Bensons - a Stella for starters then Red Bull and vodka
Jenny drops in for the craic and some company - shift finished early - she starts on sambuca

By seven come the punters - Sunday-best posers - under-aged pool players trying to look hard
But we’ve entered our own little tryst of true drinkers - sneaking outside for a smoke in the yard

I buy us more doubles - she tells me her troubles and laughs at the barman who gives her the wink
‘Cause we’ve been here before - I check out my mobile - another missed call so it’s time for more drink

I sup myself sober - Jenny’s no better - I offer to stagger her home to her door
Inside she acts giggly until she remembers that $hit from the last time I called her a whore

But we still end up crashed in the same double bed - the same rumpled sheets - the smell of B O
She leaves on her sloggis and vest as precautions - she’s nothing to fear ‘cause I’m dead down below

Then I wake in the dark with a belch and this heart-burn - these curtains aren’t mine nor the clock by the bed
And the shape at my side - both soft and repulsive - I can’t shake this feeling of dread from my head

Did I do something stupid? Or couldn’t I manage again? The same question, the Catch 22
‘Cos I’m f***ed if I f***ed her and f***ed if I didn’t - we’ve been here before – in this same déjà vu.

H

kittypaws

08-15-2010, 08:34 AM

totally awesome!

Luved it!

Kittypaws

miyako73

08-23-2010, 07:52 PM

A Soldier's Miss Saigon

I know your sad smile-
The same smile I saw in the streets,
Inside the steamy, neon-lighted bars,
Outside the bombed, shattered homes,
In my dreams of fragments and rubbles
Like everything just happened yesterday.
Miss, are you Déjà Vu?

Dark Muse

08-24-2010, 04:19 PM

Your Digital Eyes

How long has my reality
been a figment of your
dream?

I awoke into the living
nightmare the instant
I realized I lived
this moment before.

My life was not lost
in stagnant routine
but a single event
replayed

I caught the glitch
when the overlay delayed
and I stood waiting by the bus stop
and I stood waiting by the bust stop.

I have been spinning circles
in the digital fortress
of your eyes.

The maze of your iris
trips me along
concealed in the codes
of your mind.

I run through your binary
to find the key to override
your system and break
through the streaming
loop you have me
reeling on like Deja Vu.

AdoreroDio

08-26-2010, 11:53 PM

Life's Deja Vu

I have been here before.
I was walking away…
What from?
past things I knew:
Destruction and death,
A life without hope,
A gasping.
Wandering down wrong
Paths-
Farther down,
Leading nowhere.
I had been there before.
Before…
There had I been,
Nowhere.
Leading farther
down paths, wrong.
Down.
wandering, gasping;
a hope without life,
a death and destruction.
Knew I things past?
Away from what I was
Walking from?
I have been here before.

autolycus

08-30-2010, 07:57 AM

We didn't start the fire burning
Said Hicksville's most sagacious poet
Yet for all the world still turning
It feels as if there's something to it.

I saw what I'd not seen before
I have seen what I'd not seen again
And yet I thought that what I saw
Was something that I saw back then

That feeling is the sense defined
By walking in Columbia's glades
A newer world than left behind
Yet full of memory's dim shades.

He didn't do it, didn't act
Within the compass of his days
And yet he feels the chilly fact
That he had trod those unknown ways.

She didn't say it, says it still
That wasn't said and yet it seems
Against her knowledge and her will
She said it once before —*in dreams?

You know it's new and never seen
A never-never scene to you
And yet it hovers in between:
These words, that act, this deja vu.

angliholic

08-31-2010, 03:28 AM

Deja Vu ~Bougainvillia

You shivered outside
alone
in early morning chill!
The way your green blouse blew gently
in autumn breeze
still and will always linger in my mind.

The purple corsages
you wore
were intoxicatingly beautiful,
caught,
and opened my drowsy eyes.

It's a deja vu feeling!

A stroll down memory lane,
I vaguely recall
we made a promise a thousand years ago
to meet again
somehow sometime somewhere
whatever the cost!

Pendragon

09-04-2010, 10:41 AM

OK, I declare time up, and will forthwith give the winner.

First I'd like to say this: these are contests judged by a fellow poet who was fortunate enough to win last time. As such, they will always be judged on a manner of personal taste and expectations. That's just the beauty of these contests.

hillwalker You had a technically wonderful poem. But my own feeling is that profanity has no place in poetry beyond a single minor swear word for emphasis. My opinion only.

miyako73 I liked the poem, but I am not sure it fulfills what I was looking for. Sorry.

Dark Muse Totally loved the poem. I found this stanza particularly strong

I caught the glitch
when the overlay delayed
and I stood waiting by the bus stop
and I stood waiting by the bust stop.

Yes Deja Vu could be described as a "glitch in time."

AdoreroDio The reversal effect in your poem is sheer genius, like living it over again in reverse order so that you strongly remember what happened. Brilliant!

Autolycus You had perhaps the strongest ending to your poem.

You know it's new and never seen
A never-never scene to you
And yet it hovers in between:
These words, that act, this deja vu.

Loved it!

angliholic You also closed your poem on a high note that was very wonderful!

A stroll down memory lane,
I vaguely recall
we made a promise a thousand years ago
to meet again
somehow sometime somewhere

Great stuff!

But I must declare only one winner, and for her sheer brilliance with that reversed look at something happening over again, the winner is:

Andy Dio! Congrads!:hurray::hurray::hurray::hurray::hurray:

autolycus

09-04-2010, 12:07 PM

Thanks for judging, Pen! And congrats to AD! :)

Dark Muse

09-04-2010, 01:26 PM

Congrats to the winner, and thank you Pendragon for your kind remarks. I was inspired by the Matrix. As soon as I saw Deja Vu the first thing that popped into my head was a scene from the movie where there was an instantance of deja vu, and it was explained as being a glitch in the system.

hillwalker

09-04-2010, 01:57 PM

Thanks Pen, and congraulations to the worthy winner!!

AdoreroDio

09-04-2010, 03:06 PM

Wow I won, haha. Thank you!

Next Subject I suppose shall be... *drum roll*

The Last Meal

autolycus

09-08-2010, 01:18 PM

A man walks down the street
He says, "Why am I hanging alone down here?
Why am I hanging alone down?
Why has my life been so damn hard?
I need a psychoanalysis now,
I want a shot at redemption,
Don't want to end up in a poem
In a subject poetry contest!"

When I was young and dying
I was young and green as hell
Can I call on Dylan
Dylan Thomas he calls me
And I call me, Al!

A man walked down the street...
He is stringing out, stringing out the tension
Knowing he has no more pretension
He walked into an alley way
Unfortunate incident one day
Blood on the walls
Money for the lawyers
Many many lawyers
He sees lawyers in the architecture
Spinning out the legal system
The strings and webs of legal fiction...

When I was young and dying
I was young and green as hell
Can I call on Dylan
Dylan Thomas he calls me
And I call me, Al!

This is his longest walk, is he done walking?
He doesn't know, forever walking!
The sun is strangely hot at dawn
His necktie is oddly thick and strong
It's like the Third World!
He has no money,
He doesn't speak the language,
He is surrounded by the sound
Sound, sound, all around the ground

Then he's young and dying
He is young and green as hell
He calls out for Dylan
His Dylan thought bobbles at
The last:
Me
Al.

Dark Muse

09-09-2010, 01:47 AM

Death is a Gentleman

Death has come to sit
at my table tonight
we dine before the
hallow candlelight.

The wind howls
at my door, with the
braying hounds,
seeking another soul
to drag into the
cavernous darkness.

But Death can wait,
he above us all
can sit king over time,
there is no need to rush
but like a fine wine
savor these last moments
upon earth.

I break bread with
the shadow that seems
to loom over all
and we share a drink
to reminisce over times
past and gone.

When you take the time
to get to know him I find
that he really is quite
the gentleman.

And even before
the most humblest affairs
is grateful to be invited
before the fire.

But all too soon
the hours slip by
and at last the moment
has arrived for my
companion and I
to prepare for the long
ride.

He leads me out
into the gentle night
with a final good-bye,
in his chariot I mount
and away we fly.

Hawkman

09-09-2010, 01:42 PM

The Last Meal.

The restaurant wasn’t crowded,
and the quiet pair
with silent smiles,
revelled in their intimate
reflections in the evening window glass.

Enjoying food for thought
and the music of their love,
they drank to each other
with their eyes, the woman’s kiss
a lipstick trace in red upon a rim.

A candle flame entranced,
and danced between -
a sinuous wisp,
that pooled in fluid amber light
which bathed two faces in its gleam.

And while they ate the food
that fed another hunger,
anticipation grew,
with quickening hearts
and thoughts of touching in the dark.

Until, a momentary glare of headlamps,
an engine’s dying scream,
the wine and blood that mingled
in the broken glass
amid their shattered dreams.

AdoreroDio

09-09-2010, 02:18 PM

Fantabulous start!

I'll set the deadline as September 28

:]]]

hillwalker

09-09-2010, 04:13 PM

THE LAST MEAL

The slingshot moon
sprays stars towards horizon
grey aurora barely lighting up the snowfields
caged beneath the tines of pine trees
as their mesh of shadow pins me down
but still I find an opening
where glaciers blaze with fire
yet bestow a chill upon
this haunting silence and the empty echo of an aching night.

The forest nurtures scents and tastes
distilled in one deep breath
an overload of hunger and decay
as every step shakes loose these bones beneath my pelt
the whistle of buran a constant gnawing at my tail.

Sometimes I stop and spin inside my judas tracks
I’m usually swift enough to shake them loose
that slinking predator, mortality
death dragging closer by the day
its chain of famine like a weight that never lightens.

Other times I sense its steel trap gaping
at the loose ends of my tether up ahead
one step too many for another meal.

This howl you hear is not of reckless rage,
my dying song;
it merely signifies my final meal
was something I no longer can recall
the taste of blood a week or more ago
this howl is winter
crying victory.

H

Pendragon

09-12-2010, 10:43 AM

Last Meal For a Convict

They brought me my steak and French fries today,
Told me to enjoy while there was still time—
The clock says the hours are counting down fast
At midnight the Grim Reaper calls
I don’t claim that I'm innocent and do not deserve to die
I know the cold mistakes that I made
But I wonder about the kids starving abroad
And the irony of giving a man a very fine meal
When he is to die in four hours by execution
While a good part of the world creeps towards death by starvation

Pendragon
© 9/12/2010

miyako73

09-16-2010, 02:40 AM

Pen, I'm not questioning your judgement. Saying that I did not use "Deja Vu" correctly seems to me that you did not understand the poem at all. "Deja Vu" in my poem is both a Vietnamese woman's alias and a familiar experience.

Let's get real. Do you think "Knew I things past?" makes sense? That line assaulted the little grammar and good stuff I have known about the English language. Poetic license is old. Give another sensible reason.

miyako73

09-17-2010, 12:00 AM

Pendragon sent me a private message:

"I find you latest comment on the Subject Poetry Contest to be in very poor taste. To complain about how your own poem was judged is one thing. To cast stones at the winner's poem is quite another. I feel you should delete your hateful post.

The choice of winner was mine and mine alone. I did not have to grace anyone else's poetry with a comment. That I always take the time to do so is out of respect for my fellow poets.

I told you when I posted that things were just my opinion. If you are going to be so sensitive about any criticism, you might not want to post poetry in these contests. Many has been the time I disagreed with both the choice of winning poem (feeling mine was much better) and the comments made about my poem. But these are contests judged by our peers. Tastes vary exceedingly.

My advice, lighten up.
, and get your knickers out of a twist. You sound a lot like sour grapes.

Pendragon"

My message:

Respect the English language. Get real. Have someone read this: "Knew I things past?"

With this line, "Many has been the time I disagreed with both the choice of winning poem (feeling mine was much better) and the comments made about my poem.", coming from you, now I know.

autolycus

09-17-2010, 12:22 AM

Sigh. Could we take the grammatical parsing etc out of this thread?

"Knew I things past?" is grammatical, just possibly awkward in syntax. It follows the form verb-subject-object, as in "Loved I a woman..." or "Be this a man?"

miyako73

09-17-2010, 12:38 AM

Haunted

09-17-2010, 01:50 AM

My message:

Respect the English language. Get real. Have someone read this: "Knew I things past?"

With this line, "Many has been the time I disagreed with both the choice of winning poem (feeling mine was much better) and the comments made about my poem.", coming from you, now I know.

take :chillpill: :chillpill: before posting, and :chillpill: :chillpill: :chillpill: :chillpill: before reading people's comments.

if symptoms persist, may I suggest :auto:

miyako73

09-17-2010, 02:10 AM

"I don’t claim that I innocent and do not deserve to die" (Bravo! You very good.)

"I'd been every battle we fought with the North" (Can you tell me how one becomes a battle?)

What? Please! For God's sake. I'm beginning to doubt that maybe there are people here who have double accounts.

By the way, I'm not sourgraping. Dark muse's work was far more superior.

Pendragon

09-17-2010, 11:46 AM

"I'd been every battle we fought with the North" (Can you tell me how one becomes a battle?)

What? Please! For God's sake. I'm beginning to doubt that maybe there are people here who have double accounts.

By the way, I'm not sourgraping. Dark muse's work was far more superior.

If the flaming comments continue, I will petition the moderators to lock this thread. After all, you may notice that I originated this contest. There is simply no place in a poetry contest thread for such remarks. That is why I PMed you. I take exception to your posting my remarks which were private between us.

As for my quoted line. I'm Southern. That's a whole different kind of American. But truthfully, it was a mistake I didn't catch. It should have read "Id been in every battle we fought with the North." The contest judge obviously could see past a minor error.

autolycus

09-17-2010, 12:52 PM

VSO structure is common in some non-English languages, like my own native tongue, but the structure is clear and beautiful to the ears, and makes perfect sense when used.

Its use in English is still questionable. Some poets resort to it if verbs are just too powerful to be put next to the subject. I don't find "knew" more powerful than "be".

Using your argument and standard, this will be correct: "Played the students chess."

Yes, it is. "Played the students chess" is correct but considered awkward in most standard forms of prose English. However, it is poetry we are considering here. I'd like to add that this order is in fact a traditional English syntactical order, and its euphony depends on the words used.

This famous poem (http://www.bartleby.com/101/343.html) has an example of that order in its even more famous last line. The poem also has examples of other orders using various verb forms or noun forms.

Miyako, I am not trying to pick a fight with you. I'm just pointing out that we could go on and on about such stuff, but it wouldn't help the thread at all. This is a disputable area, and many of us are vulnerable to brain-farts that produce typos and suchlike.

miyako73

09-17-2010, 01:12 PM

LOL. BIG LOL!

the poem was written by:

Richard Lovelace. 1618–1658

LOL

Scheherazade

09-17-2010, 01:25 PM

Please do not personalise your comments.

Posts containing inflammatory or off-topic comments will be removed without further notice.

AdoreroDio

09-17-2010, 05:28 PM

I apologize for my bad grammar, I was restricted by the form I chose to use. But as that is past and this is now...

Any more poems? Or shall I judge now?

AdoreroDio

09-20-2010, 10:52 PM

Okay last chance :] I will begin judging tomorrow night

any more takers?

NikolaiI

09-21-2010, 01:58 AM

With folded hands they pray
to Christ's depicted last meal,
with only one sin in their hearts -
the belief they are weak and sinful,
not recognizing their holiness within.
How our thoughts make it true!
Christ's light is divine light within us,
but has nothing to do with Christianity,
or names we apply not knowing the truth -
God is the hedge at the bottom of the garden.

AdoreroDio

09-23-2010, 07:17 PM

Great job everyone! I'm just about finished judging and will post the results tonight. :]

AdoreroDio

09-23-2010, 11:27 PM

--autolycus

Your poem’s play on the idea of last meal and last me, Al was fabulous and I loved your repetition. Your writing reminds me of a mix between Sound and the Fury and Dylan Thomas’ poem Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night (was that a coincidence that you used the name Dylan Thomas or purposeful?)

--Dark Muse

I love your original take on death, not some creepy grim reaper but rather a gentleman to have dinner and wine with by the fire and then go on a ride with in his chariot. It’s a much more gentle view of death and one’s last meal.

---Hawkman

Wow. What a shocking poem! The build up is fantastic to such a gory end. I especially love the contrast between the stanzas. My favorite stanza was : “A candle flame entranced, / and danced between - / a sinuous wisp, / that pooled in fluid amber light / which bathed two faces in its gleam.” Beautifully done.

---hillwalker
Your poem is very haunting, and wonderfully composed. The final lines are my favorite.

---Pendragon

Leave it to you Pendragon to hit exactly what I meant by The Last Meal and then throw in some irony. I enjoyed the simplicity of your poem and its pointedness.

--- NikolaiI
Your poem is an interesting branch of the subject. I love your final line “God is the hedge at the bottom of the garden.”

It was a very hard decision trying to make up my mind which poem I should choose. You are all deserving of a win and I am amazed at the variety of interpretations of the subject. But for their amazing use of imagery and their haunting take on the last meal the winner is….

Hillwalker!!!!

:party::party: :banana: :hurray::thumbsup::hurray: :banana: :party::party:

hillwalker

09-24-2010, 05:48 AM

Thanks so much AdoreroDio for your generous reading - and to all of you who always manage to give such challenging and inspiring competition, well done. There were some wonderful poems in this month's collection.

..... my subject for this month is 'The Eyes Never Lie' - anything that those words conjour up will be fair game.

The closing date: four weeks today - one minute to midnight on October 22nd.

Over to you, and good luck everyone.

H

autolycus

09-24-2010, 12:39 PM

Hillwalker: congrats on a masterful piece! :)

AdoreroDio: Heh, it was a mix of Paul Simon, Dylan Thomas, and yes, Faulkner-style American stream-of-consciousness. :)

Pendragon

09-25-2010, 09:21 AM

Nice going, Hillwalker! :hurray::hurray::hurray:

Pendragon

10-01-2010, 11:56 AM

They say the eyes never lie,
That they are the windows of the soul
Why then do serial killers get away with even one murder
Why do politicians get reelected year after year
Why are 50% of Americans divorced
Why do people believe in impossible things
If the eyes never lie?

Pendragon
10/1/10

Haunted

10-01-2010, 04:13 PM

dead on

last I saw mom
in the morgue
her eyes were shut
she doesn’t ever again
want to see the man
she married

when my father passed
his eyes were open
still trying to figure out
where it all went wrong

a psychic sees me
and says girl your eyes
not symmetrical
your parents don’t
get along

it’s true
the eyes
never lie

zoolane

10-01-2010, 05:08 PM

Eyes

I look deep into your eyes.
To very depth of your soul.
Your eyes are like the ocean.
With a glint of a ripple in a whirlpool.

Your soul is on show for all to see.
Your raw emotions are available to.
Your eyes never lie to me.
I can see right through them.

mingdilly

10-01-2010, 09:46 PM

Yez

De facts ain’t what dey used to b
‘Fact, they seem a fallacy
De facto checking don’t mean a thing
Factoids turn factz upon a clvr spin

People, now
Dey’z diff’rent
De eyez sez yez
Tho’ de word is no

The eyez sez yez
Tho’ u havta go
U blow me wit yr elan
U blow me with diz melan-
chollie
Izzit true
De eyez nvr lie?

AdoreroDio

10-01-2010, 09:53 PM

Her face is porcelain
Like a doll with cheeks blushing, blushing
Her proportions perfect
Her beauty not fleeting, fleeting
She is humble and kind
To everyone she’s friendly, friendly
So everyone follows
Her crowd is adoring, adoring

But the eyes never lie.

She dances in blue
Spinning around, laughing, laughing
Her friends gather
Attracted by her glow, shining, shining
Her smile shines, they say
Her life is perfection, perfection
She twirls through life
Dependent and beautiful, beautiful

But the eyes never lie.

They pretended not to see
That her eyes were empty, empty
The pain of loneliness
Reflected in their darkness, darkness
The edges crinkled in laughter
But shined with tears invisible, invisible
But they saw only the joy
And her gorgeous reality, reality

Their eyes always lying.

She lay in her satin bed
Her eyes blank and staring, staring
They were empty and dead
Behind them there was nothing, nothing
But no one saw the difference
Between her eyes dead or living, living
Because as she lived her eyes
Told the truth of her dying, dying

For the eyes never lie.

They found her alone, above
The fallen chair spinning, spinning
A taught rope held up her shadow
On the floor was dancing, dancing
They didn’t know why
Why she ended perfection, perfection
Their wax tears left empty eyes
While they were questioning, questioning

But the eyes never lie.

Dark Muse

10-01-2010, 10:48 PM

Snake Eyes

Snake eyes on the table
for a moment
time freezes
and all the glam and glitz
begins to fade away,
just a facade,
left standing alone
as all your friends
from moments ago
turn away, with the blond,
brunette, and little red head,
how quickly tempers change
now you are just another
low-life looser
in their opportunist eyes.

You rode out the wave
of the high-stakes life
now denied entry behind
the illusionary golden gates
of glory and fame, it only
took the blink of an eye
to loose your grasp
upon the golden key,
on the unforgiving velvet
where so many dreams
have shattered,
ambitions built upon
crumbling hope
fallen like pillars of salt.

No longer admitted
into the inner sanctum
you see the ugliness
which lies behind that
beautiful honeyed life
of which you once strived,
slammed back into reality,
left with only the shame
that you sold your soul
only to be snake-bit.

Silas Thorne

10-04-2010, 09:01 PM

The Eyes Can Never Lie

I stole some words to make you warm
and told you beauty's in the soul,
then she walked by with fulsome breasts,
a casual toss of head, a smirk,
a skirt two hipshakes could knock off,
a lovely turn of cheeks....

You saw me sigh.
The eyes can never lie.

hillwalker

10-23-2010, 09:32 AM

Well, the deadline has crept past almost unnoticed. Thanks everyone for your entries, and it was great to see some new faces on here flexing their muscles.

It was also a pleasure to read such a varied set of poems on a fairly cliche'd theme (my fault there).

Pendragon - very wry observation; you ask quite pertinent questions that suggest most people are not in fact very good at spotting the lies hidden behind certain people's eyes

Haunted - you got my attention from the first two lines; and I admire the imaginative twist that leads to such a powerful ending

zoolane - quite a delicate poem but with a very telling final two lines. I keep returning to these lines - such a neat spin on 'seeing right through' someone as well as 'seeing through one's own eyes'

mingdilly - a welcome bit of street poetry or rap; and very skillful use of internal rhyme - especially 'fact'/'de facto'/'factoids' - original indeed

AdoreroDio - I liked where this ended up, but the journey was rather bumpy in places. Much as I enjoyed the repetition, it did become rather distracting as one passed the half-way point. I felt the poem would have had more impact had it been trimmed back - but there are some lovely images here.

Haunted - such an original take on the theme of the comp. And that clever closing line referring back to the snake eyes right at the start was nicely done.

Silas Thorne - ah, the curse of the wandering eye. A shrewd little poem; self-deprecating and witty - loved the image of 'a skirt two hipshakes could knock off'.

So - a difficult task to pick the best from such a diverse collection. But I had to go with the poem that captured my imagination most effectively..... and the closing pair of lines in a deceptively simple poem means this month's prize goes to

zoolane - congratulations to the winner, and thanks everybody else for providing some memorable reading.

H

zoolane

10-23-2010, 01:26 PM

Wow Thank you so much I never expected to win. All the entries are great poems. I will back with next one soon.

zoolane

10-23-2010, 01:39 PM

Subject
'' Secret piles of love letters'' Closing date is 3 weeks from now which is 13th of November.

Skia

10-23-2010, 07:10 PM

There is a pile of love letters
that I hide beneath my bed.
Cause if my daddy found them,
I surely would be in trouble.
It's a secret! my lover tells me,
one that I cannot even share.
though my love for him is strong.
only three more years then it ends,
His daughter sits beside me though
and indeed she is my sister, my perfect bestie friend...

The Comedian

10-27-2010, 09:40 PM

This one's a little different than the stuff I usually write -- it's emotive and angry. But what the hell?

Here Is Why I'll Never Believe Anything You Say

Dad. I never told you
that I found your old box
of lies. Correspondence
with the woman downstairs --
collected over trips,
to your private P.O.

Like a coward, I read
one of those old letters --
I only made it past
the first line before I. . .

Stopped.

zoolane

10-28-2010, 03:30 AM

2 Great entries so far thank Skia and Comedian

autolycus

10-28-2010, 02:08 PM

They lived together
Their cottage was small
You wouldn't think there
Was a cottage at all

There came quite a storm
It flattened the trees
But their house stood firm
With greatest of ease

Then there was a quake
Which troubled the ground
But the house stood firm
Unlike some around

She asked him one day,
"Our home you did make,
But how does it stand
With nary a shake?"

Shook he then his head
For what else will come,
Asking such questions
Of secrets at home?

He went for a walk
She went for a dig
He felt the tremors
Oh boy they were big...

She yelled, "What are these?
All hidden below?
They speak all of love
And love's afterglow!"

He said, "Don't you take
Out any of those!
My secret love let-
ters hold up the house!"

It was far too late.
The tsunami hit
The couple was lost
Their home was a pit.

So never forget
The piles you suspect
May hold up the house
You try to protect.

hoope

10-31-2010, 02:51 PM

When I was 6 I was feverish and couldn't sleep
While you just slept comfortably
As I worked hard to please you
You just yelled and hurt me
When I stood first in class
You said that I didn't do much
When I tried to do my hair and look beautiful
You said that my sister Emy is prettier than I

And now, here I am and there you are
I went away and you grew alone.
When I needed you , you weren't there. But
when you need me you would always find me around , mom !

I tried to be emotionless
but i was full of undescribed emotions
I tried to not love you
But you always moved my heart

Dearest Mom !
You threw my heart while I held yours tenderly
You gave me harsh words while I sang Mother's song .
You tore me apart and yet
I loved you

Pendragon

11-01-2010, 09:18 AM

I saw my granddad cry
Never though I'd see such a strong man break down
It was the anniversary of Grandma's passing
And he sat there in his big armchair
With a pile of yellowed, ancient letters
Concentrated messages of love
From long ago
Reliving the memories of young love lost
Looking forward to their meeting again
Heaven holds no tears

Pendragon
11/1/10

Haunted

11-05-2010, 10:13 PM

postmarked 1948

he says it’s sacred
so they must...must keep it
their sweet little secret

whenever she misses him
she lays on a bed of letters
this is where he is
when he is not here

as soon as her eyes close
she can feel the steel tip
his love infused fountain pen
pushing hard and harder
into the exquisite stationery
leaving one unmistakable
pregnant chad

afterwards she swoons over
every trace of saliva he left
on the linen envelopes
each sealed with a lie

zoolane

11-10-2010, 03:56 AM

Six brillant poems so far. Hurry only three days to go!!!!!!!!!

krymsonkyng

11-10-2010, 12:14 PM

on the back of our first polaroid
tucked beneath the topmost socks
stuck in the toe of my suit-slick shoe
hid behind the toothpaste, taped to the top
of the coffee maker lid
the prize at the bottom of the Wheaties
on the back of our last polaroid
paranoid anticipation
fixation for letters and words
for lines of "World Enough
and Time"
tucked into the notes on my phone
on my laptop
on my mind, in my mind
I'm
haunted and possessed by
scraps that mean the world
because they
come from
you.

mingdilly

11-11-2010, 05:15 AM

FALL

Fiery leaves
confetti the grass, bleaches
and parchments the
fiery hues of fall

First gold, then green
A heart’s bud a-flower
Love lettered from
the hand of the Maker
An open secret
Of eternity written in the heart
Reduced to piles, (secret) piles
Of love letters

zoolane

11-13-2010, 03:01 PM

Lots of great poems and closing time is 9 pm UK time. Thank you

zoolane

11-13-2010, 05:37 PM

Thank you to all who enter, they all great poems.

Skia: The poem is very unique twist because it about naive young girl with being seduced by love. Best line His daughter sits beside me though
and indeed she is my sister, my perfect bestie friend...

Comedian: I actual really like this poem because it remind of a young boy realize how has Grandfather has feeling of love to.

Autolycus: it sort suggest house cards but great concept.

Hoope: This wonderful poem is full of remorse I think on the daughter part. She deeply hurt by her mom treat as child. It was lovely touch of little verse of her letter. Best lines are: I tried to be emotionless
but i was full of undescribed emotions
I tried to not love you
But you always moved my heart

Pendragon: This one remind of my grandad. It lovely poem of heartbreak of a Eldery man yearn of hes 1st love. Best lines are:Reliving the memories of young love lost
Looking forward to their meeting again
Heaven holds no tears

Haunted: I like this remind scene from ww2 film I have recently seen it very of love once gone it hope of return soldier. Best lines are:afterwards she swoons over
every trace of saliva he left
on the linen envelopes
each sealed with a lie

Krymsonkyng: Not sure about this one, it remind of moved house. best lines are:on the back of our first polaroid
tucked beneath the topmost socks

Mingdilly: I really like this one lots due to fact that start with autumn setting and gentle end in a 'secret plie of love letters. Best lines are: Love lettered from
the hand of the Maker
An open secret
Of eternity written in the heart

The Winner is HOOPE well done it the dear mom bit that got most.

I would like thank you all for enter and they few are really good ones which do I know well readed time and time again.

Haunted

11-13-2010, 11:15 PM

Congrats hoope!!!

hoope

11-14-2010, 03:50 AM

WoW :).. I really didn't think i would make it .. especially after seeing Pendragon ,Haunted and the rest of the poems which were so good.

Thanks you guys and thank you Zoolane.. so am suppose to put the next ssubject , yea?

PrinceMyshkin

11-14-2010, 08:25 AM

hoope

11-14-2010, 10:44 AM

Thanks alot Prince :)

The next subject would be :

You'll never walk alone

Edit : I forgot to put the deadline ..
It will be on 3rd of December Friday :)

Good luck for all

Pendragon

11-16-2010, 01:31 PM

Promises Made to Be Kept

When the valleys grow dark with the shadow of Death
When the mountains grow too steep to climb
When all of your rivers flow at flood stage
When the stars seem to fall from the skies

When the wolf's at the door and the howling grows loud
When you feel life's just passing you by
When you feel isolated even when in a crowd
When the tears flow like rain from your eyes

I'll stand by you through good times and bad
Through heartaches, through laughter, through groans
You'll have me beside you till death do us part
Baby, you'll never walk all alone

Pendragon

krymsonkyng

11-16-2010, 02:18 PM

The faster that you run from it
the quicker that it catches up
Moonshine in a mason jar
Sunshine in a coffee cup

The sooner that you deal with it
the further that you drive it back
Dirty skies and clouds of white
Purest seas and sails of black

The story grows in time with time
The rhythm, with each tired tread
Hunted, haunted, carried, kept
bound and tied with your own thread

Dark Muse

11-16-2010, 09:04 PM

Here and After

You sit alone before the still light,
an ember that still burns
within the beating heart
for what time has taken,
yet a flame that will never die.

And as the winds blow
a voice still sings,
your name upon window fog.
Is it madness! A caress
in an empty room?

To dream while you are awake?

She smiles invisible,
yet still more real than the sun,
a memory more than the photos
on the wall, or a fleeting
sometimes fading thought.

She dances the waltz
to music that manifests
at her fingertips and you
watch the subtle vibration,
laughter more than bird song.

But no trespass will she broker
for death alone cannot part
the weded soul, alas you are
hers forever more, and she is
yours here and after.

hoope

11-25-2010, 01:42 PM

Three good posts so far ..

One more week .. deadline on next week Friday 3rd Dec.

Silas Thorne

11-25-2010, 09:10 PM

I know you love me Joan,
although you're shy to say it.
You'll never walk alone.

So, I was at your home.
Although you won't dare to say it,
I know you love me Joan.

Although you cuss and moan
and tell me sternly to 'go git!',
you'll never walk alone.

With your face hard as stone
and mine all covered in your spit,
I know you love me Joan.

Please do not b itch or groan
or fly into a screaming fit.
You'll never walk alone.

You got some people on your phone,
now I'm inside this cell; said that we've split,
but I know you love me....

Joan?

Will you ever walk alone?

YesNo

11-29-2010, 10:22 PM

The one who's always on your mind
Is always with you even though
It looks as if you're left behind
And sorrow's seeds are all you'll find
When spring tells you it's time to sow.

hoope

12-03-2010, 11:17 AM

Thanks for everyone who took part .

Pendragon : I liked your poem.. The use of WHEN. in each line was just so inspiring and how the poems ends that is wonderful .
When you feel isolated even when in a crowd
When the tears flow like rain from your eyes

krymsonkyng: Good poem ....I liked this line .
The sooner that you deal with it
the further that you drive it back

Dark Muse: wonderful participation Dark Muse, i enjoyed reading it alot.
To dream while you're awake .... a line that capured me .

Silas Thorne: There is so much love in it .. and u can sense it . Lovely poem
Lines i loved ...
With your face hard as stone
and mine all covered in your spit,
I know you love me Joan

YesNo: Simple but very meangingful.. Good poem.

All the poems were just great.. i was confused who to choose.. and maybe i wanted more than one to win ..
GREAT POEMS ALL.. THANK YOU ...

BUT

THE WINNER IS
DARK MUSE

There is something special about your poem.. And i wont forget
To dream while you're awake

And as the winds blow
a voice still sings,
your name upon window fog.
Is it madness! A caress
in an empty room?

GOOD LUCK FOR ALL

Dark Muse

12-03-2010, 01:11 PM

Thank you very much!

Pendragon

12-04-2010, 10:59 AM

Way to go, Dark Muse!:):):)

Dark Muse

12-04-2010, 07:01 PM

Thank you!

Ok, the next subject is "Ice Queen"

Deadline Dec. 25th.

Silas Thorne

12-06-2010, 10:02 PM

Well done, Dark Muse! And a great Christmas topic! :)
hoope: I'm not sure if there is any love in that poem though, more likely obsession. ;) The narrator is Joan's ex-lover and now an unwanted stalker. I thought that might have come through. Oh well.

Dark Muse

12-06-2010, 10:08 PM

YesNo

12-11-2010, 10:34 PM

By day I fight the dragons, miss.
By night I still don't get that kiss.
I thought some love would grow.
I know those beastly dragons well.
I've sent some dozens off to hell,
But now I don't know how to tell
If you should also go.

Dark Muse

12-11-2010, 10:36 PM

A great first start YesNo. Thank you for kicking things off, I cannot wait to see what others come up with.

moonbird

12-13-2010, 07:39 PM

the snowflakes catch in her lashes
when she blinks they scatter
like little white butterflies

her blue lips
raw
yet soft to the touch
leave frostbite
on her lovers

her frosty cerulean eyes
cast their frigid gaze
upon a glacial world

her small white hands
nimble fingers
frozen
weave bitter winds
of winter
from sharpened
icicles
and
blows on them gently
sending them out
into the world

and she shivers

Pendragon

12-14-2010, 10:54 AM

The Ice Queen with with cold fingers
Claws at my warm, beating heart
A chill comes into the room
Far worse than Arctic air
I'm blinded by my frozen tears
Now is the Winter of my discontent
And the snow blots out my dawn of hope
Will the Princess of Spring finally find me
Before I freeze to death in cold reality?

Dark Muse

12-29-2010, 08:45 PM

Sorry for the delay everyone but I have been busy, but now I am here. I want to thank those of you who posted your great entries for this contest.

So without further ado, or further waiting:

YesNo: I liked your use of rhyme, I thought it worked quite well and it added to the fairy tale like quality of your poem. I also quite enjoyed your interpretation of the subject. I loved the humorous aspect of it, and the unexpected ending which gave the humor a darker edge. It was a fun and enjoyable poem to read.

Pendragon: As always your work is masterfully done. A very powerful poem which is quite gripping. I loved the first two lines which immediate grab the readers attention. And I absolutely loved this line "Now is the Winter of my discontent." The ending was also profoundly powerful. I love the dual aspects of darkness and hope which play within your poems. And I particularly enjoyed the openhandedness of this one. Will the Spring arrive in time, or alas will it be too late? It is for the reader to decide whether or not the poem shall have a happy ending.

But as tough a choice as this was......I have to give the win to

moonbird: I found the imagery of your poem to be the most striking. I thought there was an elegance within your verse which I quite enjoyed, and I loved the visual picture which you painted with your words. There were so many fabulous lines in your poem I thought. And I quite enjoyed the way in which you convey a sense of vulnerability within the Ice Queen herself, as if she is a victim of her own nature, and is lonely in the world she cannot help but create for herself.

moonbird

12-29-2010, 09:11 PM

Wow thanks! This is the first contest I have won here so it was a happy surprise when I logged on today :)

I will post the next subject and deadline tomorrow!

Pendragon

12-30-2010, 12:08 PM

You go, Moonbird! :wave::wave::wave:

moonbird

12-30-2010, 12:50 PM

Okay guys, I'm expecting a lot of interesting poems out of this one.

The next subject is........................... Mimes.

I'll set the deadline for January 15. Good luck!

YesNo

12-31-2010, 07:26 PM

They watch Bill's face, his legs, his hands.
He don't need words. He's understood.
He wonders if his Sally stands
Among the crowd. He knows he should
Make sure his heart stays off display
Since Sally left him yesterday.

moonbird

01-01-2011, 03:14 PM

Way to start us off, YesNo :)

Dark Muse

01-07-2011, 03:59 AM

We Are The Haunted

Silence

becomes youwhite faced

like a whisper
contorted within
your own illusions

a phantom moving black & white
photographs

without memories
haunting the streets
in muted
constructed
realities

without escape

moonbird

01-10-2011, 08:38 PM

Ooh, spooky-sounding poem, Dark Muse.

Okay guys, 5 days left until the deadline!

jajdude

01-12-2011, 04:51 AM

What is the point, and who has the time
To give his attention to the lowly mime?

With his painted face and his stupid clothes
He's a clown in a world nobody knows.

Annoying and foolish, he does not entertain;
His presence isn't wanted, his actions are vain.

krymsonkyng

01-12-2011, 01:13 PM

[A sort of sonnet you're not allowed to read out loud]

Across central park, he knew that there was
another mime, no mere competition.
Had he but words enough and time, he'd cuss
the other off, and scoff each position.

In rage, he could cage her, locked in a box,
or blow her away like a winter gail.
He would not forgive how she lived for gawks
of HIS crowds! Such mox was beyond the pale!

Any mime worth his stripes knows to do shows
where another mime goes is a high crime
to be punished by hanging from the toes.
Yet within earshot she stood e'ry time!

"What's this?" He thought, as she lassoed him near.
Softly, she asked "Want to go for a beer?"

moonbird

01-12-2011, 05:56 PM

Thanks to both of you for your posts.

Also: Dark Muse, is "We Are The Haunted" this first line of your poem or its title?

Dark Muse

01-12-2011, 06:42 PM

Is the title of the poem

hillwalker

01-13-2011, 10:34 AM

ONLY A MEMORY

My lips are sealed
but you could always read them anyway

My fingers make as if to catch
some flickering shadow
but too late now all is smoke

My arms hold onto spaces
where you stood
but never tight enough to trap your centrifugal molecules

I fabricate a smile
my grin forever etched upon a map of sorrow

I shed no tears
and yet their traces gossamer my cheeks

I take another bow
now there is no applause

H

yuka

01-14-2011, 04:16 AM

seems much more fun here, i post one too

Mimes

They call him clown
A person walking a tightrope in the air
Because of lack of experience
He almost falls off to the ground
But soon control his body and mind
Reenter the play difficult
They are a group of onlookers
Sometimes amazed by
His outstanding performance
But more of a gloating mentality
Waiting for his poor fate
They never realize
When he stands overhead
They become of his mimes

yuka

01-14-2011, 11:43 AM

another piece:

Am I The One?

I take this poem
You wrote for me
No addressing, no hinting
But I still try to find my trace
Applaud secretly
Delight stealthily
Oh! Am I the one
Who you miss very much?

Pendragon

01-14-2011, 12:10 PM

The Mime

Trapped in a box
Invisible to others
Alone on the street
Using makeup to cover
The lines from tears shed
The agony inside
Leaning on nothing
For most of my life
I make people laugh
But they never see
Beyond the funny motions
A broken heart beats

Pendragon

moonbird

01-15-2011, 12:16 PM

We have some great entries here! I will post the results tomorrow in case anyone has a last-minute submission today.

moonbird

01-16-2011, 01:13 PM

YesNo: A short, quirky piece that I definitely enjoyed. I liked your twist of humor and the way you portrayed mimes as not only performers but actual people. They often have to hide their emotions in order to appear cheerful for their audience. Its simple honesty made it beautiful.

jajude: To me this sounds like a poem written by a mime rather than about one. He is frustrated with his audience and longs for their applause and laughter. Your simple rhyme scheme created a rhythmic flow and at the end I wanted even more. Well done.

krymsonkyng: I have always found sonnets extremely difficult to write, but you have definitely pulled it off with this poem. This sounds like a lot of people I know, where they end up falling in love with their competitor. I liked “Any mime worth his stripes.”

hillwalker: For some reason this reminded me of the scene in the movie “Chicago” where Amos sings “Mr. Cellophane.” I with both surprised and intrigued by your unusual use of “centrifugal molecules.”

yuka: I never pictured a mime as a tightrope-walker, but you made it work with your descriptive imagery. “When he stands overhead / They become his mimes” took my breath away. Your second poem also possessed the simple beauty of a secret love. Great job.

Pendragon: You portrayed in your poem the sadness which can hide behind all them makeup. The first line “Trapped in a box” drew me in at once. I never thought about mimes in invisible boxes being trapped in them. Fascinating.

All of these poems were uniquely beautiful and I congratulate all who participated. However there was one that stood out even more than the rest, and I will have to give the title of winner to...

Dark Muse: Your poem was hauntingly elegant. You spoke more like a child frightened of the silent clowns than one amused by their silly antics. I especially liked “muted constructed reality.” The short lines and italics made it appealing to the eye as well. Beautifully done.

Dark Muse

01-16-2011, 02:00 PM

Thank you very much! I will get to work on thinking up the next subject.

hillwalker

01-16-2011, 03:14 PM

Congrats DM - another worthy feather in your cap.

H

Dark Muse

01-16-2011, 03:27 PM

Thank you!

Dark Muse

01-16-2011, 09:06 PM

Ok, your next subject is Love/Hate Relationship.

Deadline February 10th

jajdude

01-17-2011, 07:17 AM

Well done Dark Muse. I thought it was great too.

Ok, I'll be first I guess.
===============

"like a shadow"

The thin line fades and we're torn
along the edge --
I curse you when I see you
and I cry when you go.

Why did we meet?
Did it serve some higher purpose?

Now the years have run away
but the sting of memory remains.

Was it love?
Doubt says no.
Then why do you linger in me
like a shadow everywhere I go?

Dark Muse

01-17-2011, 02:02 PM

Thank you!

And thanks for starting us off with a great first entry

Pendragon

01-18-2011, 11:27 AM

Nice going, Dark Muse

Dark Muse

01-18-2011, 01:54 PM

Thank you!

moonbird

01-18-2011, 10:07 PM

I believe we all have a shadow.
When you see yours for the first time,
it will be like
looking in a fun-house mirror,
seeing your face
twisted, distorted,
but you can still recognize it
as your own.
When I first saw mine
it was like
two ions touched ends
and their opposites formed balance
and I was
nothing.
He was like another me
in a parallel universe,
identical
yet diametric,
his name
an antonym to my own.
We were an oxymoron.
Yours is out there too,
the one who lives
at the opposite end
of the spectrum,
the contradiction
of your peaceful reality,
and when you meet
your colors will mix
to form something new,
something more beautiful
than you could ever be
on your own,
and the blue-white spark
when your fingertips touch
will not be hot
but soothingly cool,
and you will fuse together,
two opposites
bound together
on a never-ending journey
to the edge of the universe
and the end of time,
and there
you will find peace.

YesNo

01-19-2011, 12:04 PM

Congratulations, Dark Muse! Here's one for your new contest.

The Sandcastle Made by Love and Hate

The water washed the castle down
That love with hate had made.
It stayed there for a little while
And made the careless water smile
When forcing it to fade.

Dark Muse

02-05-2011, 03:26 PM

Thank you to everyone who has submitted your great entries so far, and I want to remind everyone else that the deadline date may start creeping up on you soon. There are 5 more days left.

Pendragon

02-10-2011, 12:47 PM

Pass the Potion, Please

Two parts, equal and opposite
Both truly me, enmeshed in my life
Which one comes forward
The evil or the good?
One people love, the other they despise
Can I even make excuses
For good times and bad?
Will narcissistic emotions or self loathing win?
Hard to be certain of just where I am
Stuck between Jekyll and Hyde...

Pendragon

Dark Muse

02-17-2011, 05:00 PM

Ok I haven't forgotten about this really! Time just slipped by and than whenever I thought I would do it, I kept getting distracted, by I am here now.

Thank you all who entered and giving me the tough job of having to choose the winner.

moonbird: I loved the fun-house mirror imagery which the poem starts out with. That instantly grabbed my attention and made me want to keep reading. There were some great lines throughout and I really liked that sort of carnival, illusionist felling which the poem held. I also really enjoyed the way in which you approached the subject. The idea of internalizing it or individualizing it. A conflict with oneself opposed to a more traditional interpretation. This poem was very close to winning, but the one I will say about it is that though it was very well written and well structured, within the poem I did not really feel that tension of the love-hate dichotomy which I was seeking.

YesNo: Your poem had such power captured in so few lines. This is a poem that truly makes one think, and would benefit from more than one reading. Even so I am still not entirely sure I grasp the whole meaning of it, and yet that is part of the profoundness of it. I loved the way in which the ending of the poem does leave this lasting impression. And it captures wonderful imagery. It really shows the fragility of such relationships.

Pendragon: I really liked the way in which you captured the feeling of the conflict between the two sides. And you had some beautiful and very powerful lines. I loved your use of "enmeshed" and I just loved the line "Will narcissistic emotions or self loathing win?" Also I enjoyed the ending on the Jekyll and Hyde note.

But without further ado the winner goes to...............

jajude: There was such a power of emotion within your poem. You used such few words to the greatest effect of the poem which most deeply effected me and captured most what I was looking for with this subject. You can feel the conflicting emotions, and both the passion and fragility of it. The struggle, between the two, the fight within oneself as well as with the other. The poem started out with a bang out of the gate, and I thought the ending was powerful and beautiful.

moonbird

02-17-2011, 10:52 PM

Nice going jajude! Can't wait to see the next subject. :)

Pendragon

02-18-2011, 12:12 PM

Nice going jajude! A truly worthy opponent!

jajdude

02-23-2011, 01:48 PM

Thanks, and I appreciate your comment Muse.

Since I just moved this week to another country let's have a topic regarding that. We'll call it "moving" or "relocation" or something.

YesNo

02-23-2011, 09:05 PM

Hope you enjoy China, jajdude! Here's something for the contest.

Home

Another year, another life
Across the sea and soon a wife:
The days consume her patiently.

Would things have been much better there?
A love was lost in springtime where
That war forced them to flee.

The trees are different in this park,
Still stars above enchant the dark.
He reaches for her hand.

So poverty keeps things the same?
There's no one near to focus blame.
She's home now in this land.

krymsonkyng

02-24-2011, 04:32 AM

i heard a singing sage say
'the road cures all' or at least
it is the magic pill
that tires on pavement heal
better than laughter
tames ills faster than the songs he
hears echoing from the streetlight rhythmic
and highway beat, the radio fighting
rain song on the windshield desperate
to make contact.
Still the passion of the path is
the man's solution,
absolution in the turning of the keys
then the rotating mile dials before
the unavoidable surprise
trip home.

Pendragon

02-28-2011, 10:43 AM

I sometimes wonder if death
Is more than end of life
Simply a relocation to somewhere unknown
Not just a quiet grave on the hill
But a brand new experience
New adventures, new places to see
Perhaps the secrets of life yet to be revealed
At one's final relocation

moonbird

02-28-2011, 07:10 PM

with a final desperate lunge
she leaps into the wind
tears herself from the earth

(bare frayed roots
sway in the dusty wind
retreat from the sun)

and moves elsewhere.

The Comedian

03-09-2011, 03:26 PM

Here's my entry:

Emphasis on the Tock

Spaces stand still,
And we revolve
Round and around
In-lines and tick-tocks.

Verb: "venues in time";
"movement"; touche.

Tonight until
Noon anon --
I will never
Be me again.

jajdude

03-12-2011, 08:08 PM

YesNo

03-12-2011, 11:40 PM

So, anyway, I'm a terrible judge. I like all your work everyone.

"YesNo "

Your turn

and I have no idea what you said

haha

This line in particular though struck a chord:

"The trees are different in this park"

Thanks, jajdude! :)

I re-read my submission to see if it still made sense, at least, to me. Hmmm. Not sure. It's getting late. What was I trying to say anyway?

Here's the new subject because the tragedy in Japan is on my mind:

Tsunami

Deadline: 3 weeks from now, April 2nd

jajdude

03-13-2011, 01:40 AM

YesNo

I reckon yours was one of your best. Perhaps? But it is all subjective I guess.

moonbird

03-15-2011, 04:51 PM

I'll never forget the day
the wave came for us.
The dry just packed up
and migrated north;
seems doubtful
if it will return
again,
for now
the whole world is wet
and heavy
with its soggy burden.
The wave was angry;
I think it hated us.
It was a disease, you see,
for one moment
we had our pretty ocean,
so cool and blue,
but the water got sick
turned gray
and shrivelled up,
and when it swelled
broke
crashed
I'd swear I heard it roar
as it hurled water at us,
agonized with fury
unable to stop
its explosion.
My mother screamed
my sister cried
but I just sat
at my seat by the window
watching the wave
watching it choke the streets
the people
and waiting
waiting
as it approached.

Dark Muse

03-18-2011, 11:28 PM

Love Like Water

There are breathless
heartbreaking moments
unspeakable; indeniable
moments
in which the whole
of your love
can be contained
within a single
drop of rain
and it is beautiful
so fragile,
yet so easily
may it fall,
disperse; splatter
before dissipating
fading, without
a trace.

And than suddenly
unexpectedly
without question
your love is seismic
like a tidal wave
rolling over me,
with crushing force,
smothering; drowning,
sending out shockwaves,
as the full of your weight
bares down upon me
with a desnity
that is unmovable
reckless
leaving me within
your wake.

In the aftermath
I am left,
exhausted; exhilarated,
with bone crushing
ecstasy
and the tremors
proceed to ripple through me,
motionless I await
upon your devastated shores,
and than your love
becomes a river
and it flows
steady
gently
but unceasing
unrelenting,
but there
always moving
away from me
and towards me
simultaneously.

sundarramchand

03-19-2011, 10:28 AM

Wonderful imagery in both poems.

I especially liked the line "the dry just packed up and migrated north"

In the second poem, i liked the way the allegory for love smoothly changes from a tidal wave possibly wreaking destruction to a perennial river

sundarramchand

03-19-2011, 10:48 AM

The awe inspiring “ice-water” mountain towers above us,

Majestic in its stillness and yet zipping across the “vast” semi-frozen oceanic wastes,

The spirit of the "dancing nataraja" in the form of a goddess

Awe inspiring and yet maternal

The pilgrims climb the terraced steps

Some light lamps along the way,

Singing songs of love, worship …

moving glass/ice sculptures

Mirrors all around that seem to hold the structure up

Like Messages in a floating bottle / glass ship

Yet still keeping the warmth of the spirit within, wine like

They reach the pinnacle

And time stands still

There is a hushed silence

Embraces all around

The snake hood shelters in both directions

The sun is setting

The shore is visible in the distance

Both Mohammed (and his companions !!) and the mountain have crossed the bar

sundarramchand

03-20-2011, 12:17 AM

I would like to stress that the "ice-water" mountain retains its integrity and does not become a breaker !!

jajdude

03-20-2011, 04:32 AM

I taught this word to the kids the other day,
told them it was from the Japanese,
to Chinese 15 year olds with sparse English

Some frowned

I know others smiled.

sundarramchand

03-20-2011, 06:56 AM

Some themes that seem to recur through all the poems on the subject seem to resonate with the motifs occuring in Samuel Taylor Coleridge's "Kublai Khan" especially the following :

"Caves of ice" , "The shadow of the Dome of Pleasure Floated midway on the waves" (allusions to a boat or rather raft like craft ??).

The sunless sea seems to evoke images of a submerged river / ocean which is the bare remanant of a much vaster ocean of an earlier age

Also, the chasm seems to evoke images of cities / monasteries etc within mountains

I suppose there could be psychological allusions to the unconscious, both collective and individual.

YesNo

03-28-2011, 11:45 AM

Reminder: Contest ends Saturday, April 2nd! You still have time to enter on the subject tsunami.

Thanks for the submissions moonbird, Dark Muse, sundarramchand and jajdude!

YesNo

04-03-2011, 03:30 PM

Thanks, moonbird, Dark Muse, sundarramchand and jajdude for your entries.

moonbird, I liked the way you made the "I" character remain calm, waiting for the wave and describing it, while the others screamed.

Dark Muse, you provided a very interesting contrast between the single drop representing love in the first stanza and then the tsunami of love in the second.

sundarramchand, you introduced both a Hindu deity at the beginning with the "nataraja" and then ended with "Mohammed" and the ice mountain crossing the waters that I found intriguing.

jajdude, I sensed in the smiling and frowning of the different Chinese children as you explained the word "tsunami" to them that they represented different attitudes that the Chinese might have toward the Japanese today, although I might be reading too much into this.

They were all good, all worthy to win, but since I have to make a choice, the winner for this round is moonbird. Something about waiting patiently while the destructive water approached seemed particularly nice to me.

Congratulations, moonbird!

jajdude

04-04-2011, 02:32 AM

Well done moonbird.

moonbird

04-04-2011, 02:15 PM

Thank you! I will start thinking up a new subject...

moonbird

04-05-2011, 05:18 PM

Okay, here we go...

The next subject is Easter traditions.

And let's set the deadline for April 24, aka Easter Sunday!

Good luck everyone!

YesNo

04-09-2011, 12:01 PM

There wasn't much to eat that spring.
On Easter still she made a cake
Shaped like a lamb for them to eat
With hope for all this year would bring.
Although they don't hear angels sing,
They know they do. She made it sweet.

Dark Muse

04-12-2011, 02:06 AM

Ostara's Blessing

Beneath the first
full bloom of the moon
upon the Sabbath
of the vernal equinox
maidens blossomed in their
youth gather round
and diligently set about
painting Ostara's eggs
in colors more vibrant than
their beauty.

Her altar they arrange
decked in the flowers
of Spring, the first colors
to paint the world
out of the winter gloom.

Upon their sweet honey lips
they sing a melody
to their Goddess of Fertility,
with the hopes that they
may become so blessed
so like the moon their
wombs may grow.

Incarnates of the Goddess
creators of new life
to be brought from darkness
into the light.

Pendragon

04-12-2011, 10:36 AM

Started with a cross, a place of pain
Death hovering close with its dreadful sting
The spirit flees, the body dies
A tomb is waiting to receive the body
Then came the dawn of Easter morn
Stone rolled away by angelic hands
They came to mourn, but they left rejoicing
Death could not conquer the risen Christ
He died for the world, erasing their sin
He lay in the grave to experience death
He rose victorious over sin, death, and the grave
To show us all that dying is not the end
"Living He loved me, dying He saved me,
Buried He carried my sins far away
Rising He justified freed me forever
One day He's coming, oh, glorious day!"

(The quote is from an old hymn know variously as "Glorious Day" or "Living He Loved Me" I do not know who the original author was. Casting Crowns does a wonderful version of the song.)

moonbird

04-12-2011, 05:36 PM

Three great entries so far!

moonbird

04-22-2011, 08:10 PM

Just a reminder, Sunday's your last day to submit poems. Keep em coming!

moonbird

04-25-2011, 06:42 PM

Thanks to everyone who participated. Each piece seemed to give its own original take on my vague challenge of "Easter traditions."

YesNo: Short, sweet, and to the point. Many words were not necessary to portray your pure message of Easter hope. I liked your original rhyme scheme, it gave the piece a nice structure. I especailly liked their simple hope as they couldn't hear the angels singing but "They know they do."

Pendragon: You took the religious route, and although personally I am agnostic I could still appreciate the pureness of your words. My mother is always saying that people get so caught up with the Easter bunny they forget the real reason for celebrating Easter, and you brought it all back nicely. Your quote from "Glorious Day" completed the piece's biblical feeling. Very well done.

All entries were beautiful, but one stood out just a little more for me, and the winner I must declare to be......

DARK MUSE! I must say your choice to base your poem on the goddess Ostara was a stroke of genius and really made your poem stand out for me with its originality. I actually had to Google her name before I remembered the whole story, and after that your whole piece made perfect sense to be. Seems no one really knows why we dye eggs on Easter. Your words were beautiful and mystical, and the third stanza espacially was simply breathtaking. Congrats on the win, and I look forward to your next subject!

Dark Muse

04-25-2011, 06:45 PM

Thank you very much!

I shall have the new subject posted shortly.

Dark Muse

04-26-2011, 02:17 AM

Ok the next subject is

"Tainted Love"

Deadline May 30th

YesNo

04-26-2011, 08:19 AM

My love is red unlike the rose,
More like the stain of blood that flows.
You think it's from your heart. I shout
Like screaming for some clean way out.

moonbird

04-26-2011, 06:58 PM

Release me, Bittersweet.

Your blackened tendrils
like frostbitten fingers
leave scars round my throat,
burning and red.

So many times
it has been wrung,
and like a moth-eaten rag
surrenders its murky water
to a wash-lady’s hands,
I have coughed up my secrets,
the shameful phlegm
that slimes through my past
and haunts my memories.

I remember the sunshine, Bittersweet,
the warm autumn sunshine the day that we met,
and you were so pretty,
so young, pretty child,
with golden-orange hair
from which you plucked
those little red fruits
that reminded me of hearts
and stabbed them through the center
and made them into
sweet crimson wine,
and I drank it.

With a parched thirst
I drank your cloying venom.

Release me, Bittersweet,
for the sun has gone away
and only thistles remain.

moonbird

04-26-2011, 06:59 PM

By the way if you're not a person who knows a lot about plants you may want to Google the "bittersweet vine" before you read the above poem :)

Pendragon

04-27-2011, 11:12 AM

HE DOESN’T NEED YOU NOW

You never had the time for him,
this child of your desire.
There were always so many things you felt were so much more important.
He tried in so many ways to tell you of the longing he felt,
but his pleas fell upon deaf ears.
Finally, he became so desperate for your attention, that he felt he had no choice,
and the sharp bark of a gun rent the summer night.
At his funeral, you shed a gallon of tears and sobbed about your loss;
and now you haunt his gravestone even though you were seldom in his room.
Your job suffers, you lose much sleep, you long to hold him close—
all noble things:
but he doesn’t need you now…

Pendragon

(It is often said that love is never really known until it is lost forever. That is the theme of this poem.)

Pendragon

05-30-2011, 10:18 AM

Bump! Is this thread discontinued or something? :confused5::confused5::confused5:

Dark Muse

06-02-2011, 07:20 PM

Thanks to those who took the time to submit an entry. I enjoyed reading them, and now here are the results.

YesNo: I like your play upon the rather common cliche which is much used in poetry, and the way in which you twisted it around to give it a darker meaning. You paint a vivid scene when a few words and capture an intensity of emotion.

Pendragon: A very moving poem which manages to tell a story. I really enjoyed your interpretation of the subject. I like the way in which the theme of tainted love could be read in two different ways, and leaves one to question in whose case has the love truly been tainted? Was it in the unrequited love he felt for her which drove him to such a desperate action, or is it the way in which his love now haunts her in grief and slowly robs her of her own life now that she cannot reconcile what she has lost for ever.

But I have to give the win to....

moonbird: I thought you had some great imagery within your poem, the first two lines caught my attention right away and left me eager to read more. There are some wonderful lines you use which leap out at me. And I loved the way in which such an innocent picture is painted of the object of affection, who than turns around to prove to be not what at first she might seem.

tailor STATELY

06-02-2011, 07:33 PM

3-worthy poems all.

Congratulations moonbird.

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

Jerrybaldy

06-02-2011, 07:40 PM

well done Moonbird. This contest needs more publicity.

Pendragon

06-03-2011, 09:49 AM

Congrads, Moonbird. And I second the motion that this thread needs more publicity!

moonbird

06-03-2011, 07:20 PM

Thank you!

The next subject will be...... Summer Break!

Deadline is June 30. Good luck!

jajdude

06-08-2011, 10:34 AM

Kids fly, a long time, fly,
Oldies lie, a long time, lie,
Ages fly, they sure do fly,
And here we sit and wonder why

Ten year olds imagine a bird sails
and forty year olds start to forget

After that I do not know
I aint that old yet

Pendragon

06-12-2011, 10:30 AM

We take a break from life to lie in the sun,
Relaxation seems to be the order of the day
Who will lose their inhibitions before the day is done
And put on a graphic nude display?

The wolves out there are trolling for some lost sheep
With promises of money and fifteen minutes of acclaim
Don't you ever think of how this makes your old dad loose precious sleep
Or how you have defiled the family name?

So when these sharks come by with all their many lowly schemes
Tell them to go to hell and make them disappear
Things are never worth the price you pay when you chase evil dreams
Think how it will devastate your family if these photos appear

Now have your fun but do it all in moderation
Save your body to embrace only the one you love
Don't allow yourself to sink into public degradation
Somebody is always watching you from the window up above

You want to live your life to make your loved ones proud
But in the sea of restless sins so many folks have drowned
Everybody loves you, you stand out in any crowd
So never lose your pride of life, and never let your family down

Pendragon

YesNo

06-12-2011, 11:12 AM

Picnic for Two

A blanket's spread upon the ground.
The waves with their hypnotic sound
And midday's sun, so warmly round,
Tell us: lay back and rest.

The picnic was enough for two.
The fluffy clouds put white on blue.
The only people here are you
And me, your summer guest.

Two martins glide across the sky.
The poplar leaves above us high
Are busy as a breeze goes by.
Our laughter is the best.

Dark Muse

06-21-2011, 01:08 AM

Summer Heat

Bittersweet the joy
of days ahead granting
liberation to recline
carelessly.

Yet oppressive
the sweltering air
as languid days pass
slowly beneath sultry heat.

Night which provides
no relief, rocking
upon a porch swing
sipping lemonade.

While stifled
and sweat drenched
melting to the floor,
a crisp Autumn breeze
would be welcome now.

The cruel irony
this reprieve
once so longed for
with jubilee comes
now as an avenger
rendering you paralyzed.

moonbird

06-25-2011, 06:34 PM

Four awesome entries! Deadline's in 5 days, anyone else care to give it a shot?

IceM

06-26-2011, 05:25 PM

I'll be joining in the fray in a couple days. Still formulating my poem. Just gimme some time.

IceM

06-29-2011, 05:12 PM

On the Mountain Top

And from atop the summit, all was seen:
the Southern river threading westward through
the plains: the concrete-colored streets that wind
around the hills and buildings like unbound
lawn hoses: and the towns, a cluster of
faded ceiling tiles and whitewashed homes
reaching across the valley like outstretched wings.

The wind is blowing lazily, the breeze
carrying sounds and scents from the summit--
the hollow ting of silver fish hooks dropped
on granite rocks, the grilling of fresh-caught
fish spiced with paprika and lemon
zest, left to sizzle on an open fire.

Looking at my watch, I laugh aloud. Noon.
At this time yesterday, it was our lunch.

Reclining on a group of rocks, I laugh
again and ponder what to do tomorrow
on the second day of summer.

Jack of Hearts

06-30-2011, 04:27 AM

Hide away June, where's the sense in cowardice?
The edge of the bed is looking more like a precipice
so cradle your head in your hands, college man,
September would never look for you here.

Draw the blinds, don't let Summer in-
Daylight dances like it doesn't know where you've been,
full dressed, on a comforter in the dark,
laid up in bed and cliches with a broken heart.

Even now, the walls are pressing in,
and you aren't ever coming out again.

moonbird

06-30-2011, 08:49 AM

Awesome entries guys! I'll post the results sometime tomorrow, anyone else who wants to jump in at the last minute can do so any time today.

prendrelemick

06-30-2011, 09:04 AM

I only ever come across this thread by mistake, then lose it again.

moonbird

07-01-2011, 06:46 PM

Your results are finally here!

jajude: Your rhyme scheme really pulled the piece together, along with the witty final line. Nice comparison to the summers of childhood to those of adulthood.

Pendragon: A darker take on summer vacation. I liked your references to the predatory animals, they helped emphasize the point of the poem.

YesNo: What describes the joy of summer more than a picnic for two? I could almost feel the warm breeze as I read this.

Dark Muse: You chose to do an original take on summer, describing the irony of longing for it until it finally comes. Your descriptions were excellent.

IceM: Your poem described the feeling of endless possibilities stretched out before you on the first day of summer. I enjoyed this.

Jack of Hearts: Another unique take on my prompt of "Summer Break." I especially liked the second line, "The edge of the bed is looking more like a precipice."

And now your winner is........................

Dark Muse! I liked your original idea and your descriptions made the piece come alive. Well done!

Dark Muse

07-01-2011, 06:53 PM

Thank you very much! Now to think of a the next subject

Dark Muse

07-01-2011, 09:51 PM

ok the next subject is

Solitary Man

Deadline July 15

YesNo

07-02-2011, 07:08 AM

Solitary Man

Jim's wife is with another guy.
He's glad that Amy's gone.
Between them over recent years
They focused on their dreams and fears
Not what was going on.

Dark Muse

07-08-2011, 03:23 PM

Only one entry so far? No other takers?

jajdude

07-08-2011, 11:38 PM

The thoughts he keeps in his troubled sleeps
are broken by the day;
The light comes through the window new
until he finds his way,
Down the street with no one to meet
his pace is all his own,
With time to spare, no need to share,
his patterns are unknown;
How many years has he had these fears,
no one here can say;
Again tomorrow we'll see his sorrow,
the same as yesterday.

Pendragon

07-09-2011, 08:18 AM

Lonely Tears

He tries so hard to get away from it all.
So he climbs into his pickup, puts in into gear and goes
Down this dusty road where people seldom go—
Pulls in at the trailhead; then he gets out and walks.
Only when he is out miles from anywhere;
Does he dare to let his bars down, and give in to his cares.
Out where no one sees the lonely tears that fall—
He struggles with the fires in his soul;
Almost everything worthwhile in life is gone—
His world razed to the foundations, with no will to build thereupon.
What can he do? What can he say?
Will it always be this way?
He shakes his head and silently marches on…
While down his cheeks the lonely teardrops fall—

At night he just lies staring at the wall—
Wondering just what happened? Where the hell did he go wrong?
He tried so hard to give anyone a hand—
But now each painful memory plays music in his head.
He lies there so cold and lonely, locked within his thoughts—
Trying hard to convince himself that this mess isn’t all his fault.
Others never see the lonely tears that fall—
Or ever hear the silent screams that tear apart his soul!
His world fell to ashes; and nobody keeps in touch.
And now his desire for living just isn’t all that much.
What can he do? What can he say?
Will it always be this way?
Sometimes he wishes for the guts to break his word and end it all…
While down his face the lonely teardrops fall…

Pendragon

IceM

07-17-2011, 01:47 PM

Sophie

Callous like the skin on heels,
she scrawled a note with bloody fingers.

"Agony did not kill the killer,
the absence of such was fatal."

Having penned her solemn words in crooked lines,
sinewing across paper like rivulets,
she surrendered herself to another
slash of the knife,
hoping this time to be successful.

Dark Muse

07-18-2011, 08:22 PM

Thank you to everyone who entered. Sorry for the short delay but I have been a bit busy over the weakend. But I have the results now. It was a tough call.

YesNo: I really liked the last three lines of the poem. I thought there was a lot of power within those lines and it conveyed a deep feeling, as well I enjoyed the realism in the poem. It was quite true to life and I think rather relatable to the experiences many people may have had.

jajdude: I thought your poem was beautifully crafted. I enjoyed your use of rhyme and I really liked the concept of your poem because I found it personally to be quite relatable. I know what thoughts the night can herald and how differently our minds and emotions can be from day to night.

IceM: I enjoyed you creativity on the interpretation of the subject, choosing to see "man" as a general term for mankind, opposed to needing to be specific to gender. So I rather liked the fact that you did take your poem in a different direction by making it about a girl. I thought the opening lines of the poem were quite gripping and hooked me in from the start.

And the winneer is.......

Pendragon: I loved the fact that there was something almost lyrical about your poem. You were able to craft a story while at the same time still keeping a poetic feel to it. Even though I cannot stand country music, this poem that sort of vibe to it, and in the poem it worked well. I could just picture someone playing a guitar to this while reading. I loved the atmosphere this poem created and the vivid scene that I could really picture it clearly in my mind.