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This contest is now closed. My words to you upon initiating this go round were "Good luck, have fun, be brilliant." I hope you had fun, I know you were brilliant. I will have the results posted in just a few days. Thank you so much for your brilliant, beautiful entries.
And the winner of this Subject Poetry Contest is:
Nick Capozzoli
Rabid Reader:
Yours was a tender missive of father to son filled with loving advice which ended:
So please remain well, and brush your hair.
Remove the dust and crumbs from it.
If your lonely and need some care,
Look upon the letter that’s in your pocket.
Haunted:
Yours had a surprise ending, a play on words, which you invested with a wealth of meaning; I thought perhaps it was about a broken love affair.
still in the pocket
now long forgotten
is the letter...
this little
letter...
i
Sapphire:
You used a number of allusions to current songs to good effect. I liked the idea of the letter as a message in a bottle.
I am inscensed; I bottle up my fears
and throw them in the ocean
Let them never reach the shore
All these fake emotions
Comedian:
You use language well, painting a vivid picture of a discarded letter, giving importance to that which is unimportant.
Potent, acrid, & grimy --
the thing smelt like gasoline
and dirt
rubbed together
like a hippie worry bead
wrinkled
Free Falcon:
A tender paean to a long lost love which made my sentimental heart ache to read it.
a letter in his pocket
was written since many years..
a throne peace of pink paper
and lines of pale ink
told me all the secrets
March Hare:
This one was rough to read, man. Note the twist at the end in the full version.
In it a final chance
In it a choice revealed
Like an obscured path spied through dust and dusk
Nearly passed by
In it things unknown made known
Alakungfu:
So literate, so many twists and turns, you use language like Arachne. I like your use of mythology!
trying to answer
the letter in my breast pocket
with a sufficiently glib
evil phone call dictated from a point
elucidated from somewhere deep in Pandora's trunk
in the core of Elysium's
virtual treasure map
Pendragon:
A letter from his deceased sweetheart, which gives new meaning and hope.
the letter from his sweetheart that he found
on the tree where they were to meet:
"I'll be there. Just wait on me. I love you so much."
Now he stands at her grave,
for she went on before him,
and the words have new meaning
Indy:
This one knocked me off my feet, the letter every mother dreads getting.
But this particular hailstone still knocked her off her feet,
She couldn't even cry,
Just softly murmur a groan.
George wasn't coming home.
Nick Cappozoli:
Between Nick, alakungfu, March Hare and Comedian, I was a little torn (no pun intended), but the solemn force of his words and the masterful way he handled the subject makes this one the clear winner. Thank you all, thank you Nick.
Dead Letter
We found him in the woods not far from where
Main Street became Route 7 leaving town
From the South. He wandered in about a 100 yards
Along the path that led to Miller's Creek. Before
He reached the Millhouse he had found a tree,
A chestnut, giving August shade and close
Enough for him to hear the water's minor turbulence.
The 12 guage blast must have rung
For some time, before the water could be heard
Again by anyone else in the vicinity.
When we found him it was quiet enough
To hear the nearby creek from where he sat
Back against the treetrunk, the top half
Of his head was gone, hidden by a buzzing
Gauze of flies. In the right breast pocket of his shirt
We found a note.
Nick, you will choose the next subject.
Appreciatively Yours,
Qimissung
Congrats, Nick. Well done.
And well done to you qimissung. A fair and industrious judge.
Well, thanks very much. I'm honored.
So I guess I get to propose a new subject.:redface:
How about a first line, with an image to be expanded? I wrote a poem some years ago with this as the first line, but I'm curious to see where it could go.
...
"After the first one, killing them was easy"
Nick
Congrats Nick! :D
Congrats, Nick. Here is my poem:
The Road Less Flawed
He saved his wife the sordid shock
After his destiny did him mock
And vampire lust possessed his soul
One sultry night that did ill knock.
Dierdre did her beloved toll
All his time spent on the knoll
And warned him he would be her death
If danger rested as his dole.
When he found her and kissed her breath
His temper rose and raised the heath
Within his unnatural melodrama
And turned his head to the bloody beneath.
He missed his turn to pose Dierdre harm
And considered his rose that was yet warm
Turned to scented stone and gristle
And knowingly let go her arm.
He fled through the threshold back to the thistle
A fiend of the moonstream and stretch of the whistle
And agonized as he studied a stamen and pistil
He would gain her, would embrace the ravenstoke missal.
alakungfu,Quote:
Originally Posted by alakungfu
Well, that is an interesting poem, but it doesn't seem
to take off on the phrase I suggested, i.e. "After the
first one, killing them was easy." I was hoping that someone
would be able to incorporate that phrase into a poem. I'll give
a couple of weeks for Lit-Forum members to submit to this
"contest."
Nick
Bloodtrails fade fast in the rain
And it helps the flesh to decay.
These are tricks you learn as you go
Which every time are only more important
After the first one, killing was easy
But always getting harder to hide
PE,Quote:
Originally Posted by PoemsEulogy
Interesting and creepy (serial-killer-like) take-off on the suggested phrase.:eek:
Nick
Well, PoemsEulogy stole my psychopathic thunder but here goes...
---------------------------------------------------------------
After the first one killing them was easy
Before you know you're kinda
S***ting your pants
And thinking
Thinking
Get the hell outta here
Go home go anywhere
I took some deep breaths to calm down
Went in
Closed the door
And aimed
Pop pop pop
She fell like a brick
I looked at her
I knew her
I knew her pretty good
Since like third grade
Oh f*** I whispered
And man I was shaking
Maybe crying
Crying and thinking
Is this it is this what's gonna happen
Can I get out of this situation
And then laughing
To myself
At myself
Situation that's a good way to put it
And the laughing froze my blood
My blood froze
And I aimed again
Here's my entry!
After the first one, killing them was easy
It took ten days to axe them -- limbs and all
It took nine to split them to the grain
And eight to clear the uneven ground
Seven to build the the level rows
And six to stack them up
Five to cover them
And four to pray
Three days 'till
Winter's
Here
Keep 'em coming! We're getting somewhere...even if it ain't very pretty...I mean can't we imagine putting the phrase in a poem with a non-psychopathic
point of view? :( I'll give it another week or so.
Nick
Bloody Hells
After the first one, killing them was easy—
Millions liquidated for a Madman’s eternal dream…
The blood still cries out from the ground,
From these Gates to Hell on Earth:
Auschwitz-Birkenau, Belzec, Chelmno, Majdanek, Sobibor, and Treblinka.
It would look like mankind would finally have learned,
But new places for mass-slaughter arise like a bloody sun,
Cambodia, Dafur, Iran, Iraq, Somalia, Rwanda…
The stifling cry of copper-tasting blood still echoes from the ground,
And who among is there to answer that silent scream…
© Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Pendragon
After the First One, Killing Them was Easy
by LMK
After the first one, killing them was easy
One by one their heads fell
I watched the first, disbelieving
But soon a flash of ecstasy shot through me
And after it a release I had never imagined
I carried on in frenzied, passion, a burning fury to kill them
Everything was covered in red, there was so much red
The younger ones had little to give up,
Just tiny buds, barely life even begun
But, the older ones with little blush left on their bloom were my favorite
Sharpened blades made all the difference
Why did I wait so long to do this?
Such liberation, to be rid of them all
Oh, that I could escape from them, I often dreamed
Their dying, turning to dust, blowing away in the wind, left to be nothing
It was a satisfaction I never expected to fulfill
For how long did I pretended to love them
While hatred and resentment grew in my heart
I waited, biding my time, not forming any plan
Patience rewarded me with such exhilaration I never conceived
I still can’t believe that he planted red roses
He knew I had asked for lilac bushes
I spoke often enough of how they would perfume the air
With spring’s gentle breezes; the fragrance of my youth.
He understood, he knew, he did it to mock me; “a love that will bloom forever,” he said
“Mother’s won another ribbon,” he’d gloat over her prize roses
For five years, I fawned and pruned, cut and trimmed
Keeping their blossoms full and their stalks trained while he recounted her latest win.
Well, no more, the last bud, flower, stem and root
Composted, leaving only a small track of petals I’d tired of picking up, as if a trail of blood
Yes, after the first one, killing them was easy.
Let him grow roses and compete with his mother if he wants,
I'm ordering lilac bushes!
/*
~L
PenD and LMK,
Wow! Great stuff! I really like this new turn. I think that LMK is the one to beat, so keep it up Lit Netters. We'll give this part of the contest another
week. :)
Nick