Here is the next picture :
I won't set a deadline yet, but once we've got 2 or three entries I'll set something then.
Good luck!
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Here is the next picture :
I won't set a deadline yet, but once we've got 2 or three entries I'll set something then.
Good luck!
Grant me the likeness of my earth’y maid;
she who is burnt-umb’r.
Take my pattern and copy thence,
form to mass (modeled in clay).
The solemn rites perform’d
In the kiln of Old Paphos
Or Paphus,
and for a time, Augusta.
Then ten …
..
ten months to crown our bliss …
..
No!
Ten stadia from sea-
The birthplace of Love:
Rock of the Greek.
With happy skill,
Bed bless’d,
Our dear statues lay:
Unripe Idols,
Burnt-umb’r heifers;
with ardent eyes
and lips to lips,
a burning kiss impress’d.
O a livid mark!
excellent, an entry already! Keep 'em coming (thanks Nick) :)
Withdrawn...I just had a dart in the heart and it burns like unjust hell, Sorry Fifth, not your fault.
http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...ies/coyote.gif
Congrats, Fifth! *grin* I just got here. Dropping by on a winter evening.
Get well soon Pen. The contest, and poetry forum, won't be the same without you.Quote:
Originally Posted by Pendragon
Oh Pen, I do hope you change your mind. Feel better *hug*.Quote:
Originally Posted by Pendragon
working on the spacing
how do you get the indention to show?
Use the increase indent icon to the left of image of earth. Keep in mind that the indent is extremely exaggerated.Quote:
Originally Posted by motherhubbard
nick, thanks for the help, but I tried it twice and it didn't work. Have you had any luck trying that yourself? If you have, do you mind if I PM you for help?
A touch.
Just a moment caught eternal
in the minds eye,
remembering -The scent, and the heat that rose off of your body.remembering-
The mingle of breath that floated away on a winter’s wind,
and the hope for what comes next,
what could be.
No longer tangible.
Just a glimpse-
a half glimpseThe memory of love lost before it was hadvanished.
can be more enticing than that of one grown cold.
Was I happy then?
Wrapped in those arms feeling that body pressed-
pressing against mineas if to say‘now,
don’t wait,in an urgent breathy whisper lost to the wind.don’t let this pass’
Or was I just wanting what I had not had
and could not?
Time is a strange friend that calls to mind
the memory imagined rather than what was.
Reflection on love
I saw them in a sensual embrace:
he was holding her waist with one hand
in a warm, lovely way.
Gazing one at another permanently
praying to remain so forever,
they had rather been turned into clay
than torn apart in that moment.
He pressed his lips on hers
and a tear of hers fell on his cheek.
‘Promise…never…’ she uttered sighing
‘I will never…’ and I didn’t hear more
because he talked very slowly.
She put one hand on his cheek,
wiping the tears
and with the other she squeezed his hand,
passing her fingers through the void
between his.
Then a small breeze came from outside.
I had left the barn
and left them together forever.
It’s useless trying to separate two people
who’d rather be turned into clay
than torn apart.
thanks to many of you, especially Petra, I relent, and restore the removed poem.
Frozen Moment
His eyes dark, larger than normal,
Bore into her eleven features, equally strange.
Monocolored faces, hands, even the drab clothing.
All speak in eldritch whispers of something not right.
I draw back my focus, and caress the lovers’ faces with my shot.
Something in the tender “nose rubs nose” leaves a line of question.
Drawing back further on my focus reveals, cracks, and splits,
His jacket is chipped and stained in places, his pants seen better days.
She like him has become weathered, and her slacks are mostly cracks.
But for the support beam between them, they might have begun to fall apart.
But looking back upon the faces, I see a strong man
With a slightly petite eleven lady clasped tightly to him,
A moment forever frozen in the rushing stream of time…
Pendragon
© 12/15/07
Yay! It's back. :)
Great, Pen! You know what, without your poem I wouldn't even have noticed the support beam. You explain the 'frozen moment' so well!
Great, we've got a few entries already! I'm going to set a deadline now which will be:
11th January 2008
which is quite tight I appreciate with Christmas and everything, but with several entries already I don't want to drag it on too long.
Good luck everyone, and keep them coming.
We pass each day, under the tram platform—
they remain in their embrace, a moment,
and the moments around the small space.
Passing by, a woman sees the hand lifting, not yet
to his face, but for this she is in her own mind.
To have something, we steal its life and hide it
in stone and bronze. We imagine what is lost,
what is there a step before, a step after the touch,
beyond that, we are the exhibit and the observer.
You will never know, reader, that he was kind,
that her touch had been the first for years
and he shook with the excitement, laughed
with her as the artist insisted he concentrate.
I cannot tell you here the stagnant years
that dropped away as she followed instruction
and slipped the ring in her coat, how easy it was
to feel like something precious in his arms.
We will never know beyond mere words or thought or
form how they both went home with the other’s scent
on their clothing, for him a pleasant torture, for her
a legitimate reason to keep what was not hers, how
they lay awake those nights dreaming beyond that touch.
We will pass each day, under the tram platform,
and toss our hopes at them, like pennies in a fountain,
or write poems about what could have been. Some
will pass by silently, heads down, never seeing
the scattered copper dreams, eyes wide open in the sun.
There is a lump in my finger and I can't write! This is so beautiful Fire.
Just so no one gets confused, the following picture is the one we are writing about.
Quote:
Originally Posted by TheFifthElement
emotions surge
pressed in stone
cold
immortal.
*end*
whaaaa can't think of anything right now!
come close,Quote:
Originally Posted by ampoule
closer,
into my arms,
and lets stick
together
like two statues
in love! :)
Just a reminder - deadline for submissions is
***11th January 2008***.
The moment was frozen
forever ingrained in her being
in her mind
his warm arms
and warm kisses
his gentle whisper of assurance
I will be home soon.
The tear that flowed gently
down his stony face
as he became strong
for her
for himself
for the world.
but he wasn't strong
he was weak
as human as the rest of the world
who were smart enough
to stay in bed
safe
but he had a strong heart
he was invincible
he would be strong.
but he wasn't
his skin was penetrable
like soft clay
and his heart was vulnerable
she was his support
she made him be strong
as they embraced
as he left her
to fight a war that wasn't his
to end a quarrel
they knew nothing about
and he would be strong
but the years passed
and the heat of the war
turned him brittle
he crumbled like dry clay
without support
because he wasn't strong
not without her
by his side
in his arms
and he slowly disappeared
all it took was a bullet
to finish what had started
in that one embrace
and now all she has is a memory
a single tear
a single kiss
because he was
strong
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock...
In the early summer, you told me
something true. We are alone, you said,
but we will stand tall, on a pedestal
high above the cold, tumbling world,
where we will be alone together.
And that was all we needed- fire in
our hearts and entwined hands.
But even statues crumble into dust;
eroded by the wind, sun and rain into
a million particles that you breathe in,
and out, and then in again, until one day
there will be nothing left except empty air.
We found ourselves falling into fragments
and then we were no longer alone together,
just alone. I should have known that time
would corrode the foundations; we should have
built our fortress with more enduring than dreams.
We could not seek passion with lined faces
and I do not write about love anymore.
It mourns for a moment lost in the ghostly past;
a memory frozen in the dead of winter.
Pygmalian fashioned out of clay
The woman of his heart's desire.
His hand shaped everywhere.
Her form had no secrets
From his sensual touch:
His fingerprints upon her cheek
Her bust, her back, her hair...
When she was right in every way
She went through a trial of fire.
Pygmalian put the hand of clay
To his cheek and he desired.
"And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground"
And this man formed a woman of the dust of the ground
His dust touched her dust,
Held that form, formed of clay,
Formed from dust. They merged
Dust into dust; clay into clay
He went through a passion of fire.
Pygmalion, fashioned out of clay,
Stands clasped and clasping his desire
Soft clay of their bodies touching,
Merging beneath the studio's roof.
She seemed so real...and in his yearning
Bones, muscles, flesh softened into one
Motionless creation. Veins filled with silt,
Malleable heart became a lump of clay
Two statues formed in the heat of fire.
When two hearts meet!
Love is a forward deal,
Lovers don't look behind,
Sky is not their limit,
the earth just a footstool
to step on and catch the stars,
the moon and the meteors;
flowers learn to bloom
seeing them in love;
the whole universe dances
in ecstasy, the sun shines spreading
the message of love
everywhere.
Time becomes just a moment,
Space the cosmos;
when the tide hits the shore,
when two lovers meet,
embrace each other in their arms
look in each other's eyes,
kindled with the glare of love;
heart meets heart,
sparkling with love,
conscription ensues
and the duality of lovers
sublimes into air
and transforms into
ethereal world of noble love
where even angels are forbidden
to go as a token of respect
to the loving hearts.
There ya goQuote:
"Everlasting"
Your scratches are the missing puzzle pieces to my dents
My hands hold your cheeks to prevent the tears from eating away,
I protect your icy flesh
Your arm secures me, holding on to the promise of dear life that frosts over our lips
I have betrayed each passerby,
We were built as whole in stone
We remain alone in flesh, molding, shaping
Desperate to secure ourselves in stillness
They will never know our secrets
Eternity spent in an ersatz passion
Frozen
Nose to nose, eye to eye, yet different,
You say hello, I worry about the next goodbye,
You search my eyes, have you been true,
I look in yours, I love you now, touch me,
All my erogenous zones pulsing, thundering,
My wrinkled waiting smoothed out as you press me,
Let us run from this place now, for more,
But I cannot move from this moment, help me.
nothing like this whimpering, this agony of love !Quote:
Originally Posted by ampoule
excellent !:)
12th Jan! What's happening?:)
Flipping heck, it's only just 12th January where I live!Quote:
Originally Posted by downing
The competition is now closed.
Will be in touch.
come on :(
Sorry guys, this is taking a little while. With some pain I've got it down to a shortlist of 4 entries, but there all just so darned good it's really difficult to decide. It's a great testiment to the talent at Lit-net.
I should be able to report back by the end of the week latest.
oh Fifth take your time :)
Since the Photo is entitled The Meeting Place. And the photo is truly beautiful.
I'll have to do a piece of art inspired by it--Rebecca Tacosa Gray
T here is a Beauty of Meeting
H ead to head, mind to mind...
E very time I look in your eyes I
M eet myself...and in
E ach meeting there is love..an
E ver soft speaking whisper...a
T rue attention to Beauty.
I am held, I am captured, I am
N ext to enthralled by your
G race as you touch me.
P lace your hands at my temples,
L ove me...for I am yours...
A ll that I am, all that I will be,
C aressed by your touch,
E tched into a Meeting Place with you.
Copyright January 14, 2008 12:28 p.m., Rebecca Tacosa Gray
Wow! So many wonderful entries, packed with love, passion, sadness, the whole range of emotions. It’s been a pleasure to read them, and a hardship judging. In the end I have to pick a winner, but I have to say that the quality of entries has made it truly difficult. I’d love to go into detail on all the poems, but then you’d all get bored and my fingers would be very tired, so I’ll offer my brief thoughts below.
Nick Adams your poem was certainly very different to the others here, and I was impressed with your ability to keep the language faithful to the theme. These lines really stood out, particularly so close to the beginning of the poemMotherhubbard there’s a really ethereal quality to this poem, that ‘breathy whisper’, or a memory just out of reach. You’ve maintained a sense of mystery, the sense that there is more to read between the lines, and the poem is packed with emotion. The form and shape of the poem also add to its beauty. It is one I could read many times and still feel there was more to it.Quote:
Originally Posted by Nick Adams
downing another sad poem, which left me wondering what their story was. I liked these lines the most:Pen you capture the spirit of the watcher really well here, and I’m seriously impressed with your powers of observation. There’s a sense of detachment and yet that intense exploration, down to the cracks which the casual observer wouldn’t notice makes me wonder. I love poems which make me think. I have just one question which is the reference to ‘eleven lady’ – I wasn’t sure if the lightening fingers had taken over and you meant ‘elven’, or whether this was me reading my expectation rather than your meaning. I kind of like the idea of an ‘eleven’ lady, it creates an interesting image.Quote:
It’s useless trying to separate two people
who’d rather be turned into clay
than torn apart.
Firefangled I’m always impressed with how much you can express in a poem, how you can condense a life story into a few lines. This is no different, you’ve really reached into the heart of the people, not just the statue but the real people behind it, given them depth. It was also interesting that you placed the piece in a tram station – this statue was part of the recent renovation of St Pancras Station in London which is the new Eurostar terminal, so the reference was quite uncanny!
Amanda Isobel your poem was short but powerful and neat. Every word has meaning, which is something difficult to achieve.
AdoreroDio you also have given them a story and a pretty sad one at that. I enjoyed the juxtaposition of strength and weakness as a theme throughout the poem. I wondered if it might be a more powerful piece if you trimmed it a little. The ending was really simple, but powerful :Quote:
a single tear
a single kiss
because he was
strong
schadenfreude I love the opening line of this, it really drew me in, made it personal from the start. You develop the theme nicely, and with control. These lines are incredibly sadPetrarch’s Love I though this was really cleverly done, and looked at the picture from a different angle. I enjoyed the repetition in the first lines of each stanza (though the middle one was slightly different) and again your control here was very evident.Quote:
We found ourselves falling into fragments
and then we were no longer alone together,
just alone.
MazHur technically you broke the rules by submitting two entries, but I though, perhaps, that the second entry was the poem you intended to enter. This was a very classical love poem, with its references to the moon, stars, angels, the love that transcends time and space. Often this can be done quite badly, but I didn’t feel that the poem was clichéd, perhaps more touchingly innocent.
dramasnot6 I don’t think I’ve read any of your poetry before Drama, but I was very impressed. Again, there’s a clear sense of control, wrapped in beautiful language. I especially liked the image of them as a puzzle fitting together, though I had to look up ‘ersatz’ so you taught me something too!
ampoulePhew! A very passionate, very intense poem. There’s an underlying current of energy, the desire to run, the anticipation of the next goodbye. The ending is perfect ‘help me’. I felt it.Quote:
I love you now, touch me,
Anonymous Angel a nice acrostic, and a nice poem. Unfortunately as it was submitted after the deadline I couldn’t include it in the judging but perhaps you could join us next time?
Now for the winner. It was a tough choice, and I’ve been torn over the past few days between a number of the entries. In the end I’ve chosen the poem which touched me the most, which I felt was both visually and emotionally stimulating.
So, without any further prevaracating on my part, may I offer my congratulations to Motherhubbard who is the winner this time, but I think everyone deserves congratulations for their wonderful entries which it has been my great pleasure to read.
Thanks Fifth and congratulations Motherhubbard. I haven't been able to participate much on the forum and have been working on Virgil's gift for over a month, but I'm eager to see the next image and hope I can participate.