Printable View
Chiromancy
Knit one, purl two,
the epidermis screams.
The first of many
tangled webs
woven across life lines
of adolescence.
A personal fable
now scars the palm,
that once,
held a mothers hand.
The protagonist stitched,
as egocentrism guides
dexterous fingers.
A sweaty face appears;
the imaginary friend,
that once
stirred, transparent,
under your bed.
I really like this ^ :)
Good job, Ms Gurgle (as entity :p).
Obviously we are already late for the result.....any more entries coming in?? No, yes? Okay I will try to post the result tomorrow.
Okay, I pronounce Dark Muse as the Winner!
Here is more information about the picture I posted. It will give you an idea how close or better you were in catching the concept poetically.
http://www.ignant.de/2014/01/14/hand...ta/#more-81336
Congrats,DM.
Ah hah, congrats DM
Thank you, I will have a new picture soon
Ok here is your next image
http://alexcolville.ca/wp-content/up...67_pacific.jpg
Dealine March 10
The stars are not with him today.
They all abandoned him last night.
His lover with another may
Enjoy their hours on the bay.
His gun will set things ruler right.
Young Tom
Young Tommy Cruise,
He done good
Got a house on the beach
All glass and wood.
Young Tommy Criuse
Got a famous face
He's packin some heat
just in case.
He leans by the door,
Watchin the waves
Tommy don't care
That Jesus saves.
Thanks for jumping in prendrelemick, being that at current there are only 2 entries so far I am going to extend the deadline until March 20th.
Looking out the door at the ocean
The restless wandering waves
My thoughts are running like a mill race
My frazzled nerves start to fray
There's a pistol on the edge of the table
Fully loaded and ready to go
I drink another shot of courage
Trying to get myself under control
I turn away from the window
Now my nerves are beginning to behave
So I reach out slowly and pick up the pistol
Walk down and throw it into the waves...
Pendragon
(C) March 11. 2014
Ah good, deadline extension. I'll see what I can do.
EDIT
Here's my shot at this one:
The 200 Grain Angler
Honey, is this Mullet Monday?
an angler's anxious request
as high tide rolls in blithely
delivering a feast with each crest.
Behind him a filet table
marked inches measure the catch,
along with an M1911 pistol;
his "rod and reel" ready to dispatch,
full metal jacket lures, cast
at 900 feet per second.
Whatever's left after each blast
is netted, bagged and sectioned.
The preferred appetizer for Mullet
is Fiddler Crab purée,
prepared with a hollow point bullet
from a .45 caliber ACP.
I haven't forgotten about this, I meant to get to it today but I got caught up in other things and now I am too tired to think straight let alone competently judge, but I will try really hard to get to it tomorrow.
Thank you everyone, this was another tough one, some great entries here.
prendrelemick: I really like the tone of this one, it sounds almost like a song in a way. Also enjoyed the story it told, it left me wanting to know more about Tommy Cruise.
Pendragon: Well written as always and very intense. It kept me on the edge of my seat wondering just what was going to happen next. It had a really great flow and rhythm to it. I enjoyed the unexpected direction this one took at the end.
Gilliatt Grugle: This is the most "innocent" or optimistic take upon the picture. I enjoyed the humor of it, and there was some good use of language. A fun playful poem which gave me a chuckle or two and cleverly written.
And the winner is.....
YesNo: Short but very powerful. Some beautiful lines and a very nice use of rhyme. The opening line immediately grabbed my attention and kept me wanting to read more, and I loved this line "His lover with another may."
I got inspired by the picture and had a cute idea...so I couldn't help but share this poem I wrote for the picture above. Hope y'all get the reference and idea I was going for! :)
I enjoyed reading the poems of all those who competed, looking forward to beating your hearts in the next challenge ;)
I like Prendrelemicks especially - felt it had a good sense of humour.
Ill crash my car into a bridge, I dont care. I love it.
Old man and Me:
What have the waves brought today?
Fish skeletons, scabs of papyrus shells;
ripped and peeled, flaked and foamed
salt water - advancing and rushing to shore -
like infantry lines pushing ahead, bring seized
by the gravity of bullets, a dance performed
through a swayful waltz on the front line.
I lose the present with an inhale of the past
brought by these never visually ageing waves.
Several years back...that old man and his boat,
carrying me to my horizon, which parallel
my closed eyes and closed smile.
Under every wrinkle on his face
laid a mystery. Days and weeks went by
and I could no longer look at the sea,
but now only the sky, and the glistening light
shinning from his forehead sweat – causing
a heavier sunburn. Oh my old man and the sea,
who is more real now.
After those dreadful stormy days
when neither my brother - the sky and the sea,
shed no light and brought no glea,
painted the other side of my window canvas in
beautiful tones of greys,
my old man friend and love, was carried away,
in all likelihood eaten by thousands of Godly fish by now.
Little did the old man know, his successor, my next friend,
would do not like to row. He loved to drink and do blow.
To feed the mouths of my little sister, and my mother,
I would have to take rum rumble and a pillaging pistol.
Oh old man, where are you now, today my face
was impacted by your smell, it ran through my hair,
and I think I'll try to catch a cod for old times sake.
As I measure my life, I realize my bullet extends far beyond my
hand's reach. Like a grain of sand trying to reach another ocean
only to end up in a souvenir bottle.
At times I see a forest's outline in falling part of waves.