And what kind of meal out does Sadie prefer? :p
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And what kind of meal out does Sadie prefer? :p
Sadie? Well, it's my birthday so I get to choose. Our fancy Italian restaurant where I got the Limoncello. :DQuote:
Originally Posted by Riesa
I meant Brandi. oops. ;) who's sadie?
Brandi will only get her dog food. :p :lol:Quote:
Originally Posted by Riesa
but she's your sweetie. :( poor brandi, all those kisses she gives you and you wont even take her out to dinner.
OK, here's my entry. I've worked on it long enough. It will never be perfect.
Quote:
Self Portrait
The pencil shadows the face,
Rounds the head into a sketch,
The dark hair, the thin lips,
Features of a Roman bust,
Tied through DNA,
The blood at Cannae, victory at Zama...
What blood, what victory?
Does the mirror lie?
The face, fattened and graying,
Has never confronted a bayonet
Not even saddled arms upon the back
Or paraded upon a field.
Perhaps then the reflection is not a sketch,
After all, perhaps a schiacciato
From the Quattrocento,
Links of DNA reach there as well.
That figure on the left,
In sacre conversione,
That St. Francis figure,
Draped in rags with a skull cap,
Resembles the artist, touches and
Sooths hounds with upraised palms.
But St. Francis was a pauper
Passing up his coat to indigents.
What starveling life has pressed
Upon this face? You sip
Cabernet every night and
Whine about your taxes.
Possibly then this countenance
Could fit as a bronze head
Upon a majestic stallion,
A cavalry man, a statesman,
A gattamelata of Donatello?
What? Calvary, horse?
Don’t mind the saddle sores,
Statesman with a shriek,
More like un gatto malato
Sleeping on a chair.
The glass now shatters
Into composite fractions.
An irascible son
De quello paise d’o sole,
Narcissistic husband,
Abbraciatta with my honey pear,
Stoic and spoiled, lustful and laughing,
Adopted citizen and patriot,
Flourishing the flag,
Inseminating the garden,
Eagle and oriole from Brooklyn.
[I wear the Renaissance like a necktie.]
Dutiful and sinner,
Pius and pagan,
The caress of family on one’s back,
Petulant engineer, cleanly shaven,
Combative tactician, with that mustache,
A writer with eyes.
Does one have to crawl
Through Purgatory to bring
Oneself into syncretic form?
This is a terrible self-portrait, but I wanted to add something.
A semblance play of myself
this shadow sprung from the slanted sun,
the grey sidelong profile
stretched across the grassy stage,
leaning aside by leaden rays.
Eclipse of my shape that dims the ground,
accident of the angular beams
conformed by the orient sky,
an ornament of the earthen reply,
the dusky reflection that opens the void,
the double print impalpable.
Is this the shape my future stores?
This blurred copy of my form,
no custom figured, just the grey expanse?
Each color dropped by poorer light,
my existence fled to shadow?
Skimming the serrated surface
the hollow twin grafted like a stone
to tragic end, silent repose,
grades the inclination to sustain,
the reflection made too true.
Hahahah believe me Lebanese politicians are much more deceiptive! Anyway, nice shot up thereQuote:
Originally Posted by Pensive
so is everyone finished? and where is holo? Janine? Susan Sonnen?
It's still pretty rough, but since the contest is either closing or already closed, I thought I'd go ahead and post. If I'm too late for contest entry purposes, this can just be considered a decorative entry. :) Of course, given that we can't see ourselves in the image of the mirror, I was sorely tempted to pretend I as a vampire in this round, but I'm not sure there's enough out there to rhyme with Dracula. :p
Reflections
Two eyes, seeing and seen,
Gazing through the looking glass
To what is and will be and what’s been
Fresh skin of the child; red blotches of the teen;
Plucked brows of the woman; laugh lines of the mother;
Folds and wrinkles of the grandmother;
And the eyes are the same.
Two eyes seeing and seen,
In the vision passing like stop-motion animation
Of what is and will be and what’s been.
Gleaming surface bordered by flowers.
Childhood on tiptoe
With only eyes peering over the painted edge;
Standing tall with pale hand pinning up hair
While a fresh corsage waits downstairs;
Standing too calm and stoic
In clothes blackened by loss;
Glint of gold on the hand;
Standing back to see the belly’s growing crescent;
Standing behind child on tiptoe
With only her eyes peering over the painted edge.
Eyes watch the child’s eyes,
And the eyes are the same.
Two eyes, seeing and seen
Changed and unchanging
By what is and will be and what’s been.
all right, great Petrarch! I guess the contest will close tomorrow.
Sweet, I still would like to edit mine - I just hate editing however.
uh, well, i might as well swing, here are my somewhat meager effort, enjoy, or not, not my problem
simple sway of time
echos of a wishful past
winding word blow
down the road at last
the sad lament of time
sad creaks tell the tale
of loves lost garden
and how it came to fail
still the image lives on
the oily swirls dry
leaving dust a bit more
then an ancient sigh
Pensive ~ interesting poem. a nice portrait, you managed to give him depth at the same time as painting them so shallow. I like your spunk, kid. :D Grow up and become a politician, will ya? but remember this poem and when you look into the mirror- don't see someone like this, but instead a beautiful free bird!! :goof:
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Orionsbelt ~ as always your poem has such a wonderful rhythm and imagery I can sink my teeth into…
And I really felt like I was getting a glimpse inside your head..which was very cool and what I was hoping for when I posted that image. Intriguing, guruesque type of person, eh?Quote:
Were I he and were he me,
Where in us would conscious be,
A little eerie, but I know that sensation, I like the whole poem very much.Quote:
Contemplate those eyes staring at you, staring at you, staring at you
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Mir, you have such a delightful wit, sometimes I think you are Jane Austen reincarnated. (lots of coffee on those days) darling poem. With a funny twist, you had me going there for a while…feeling a little confused by the
I was relieved when I realized you were talking about the cat.Quote:
Every surface bears short fur
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Taliesin!
Excellent through and through, I loved the (Kigele!’s)
And wow, did I ever get a sense of your culture and the integral part it plays in who you are, not to mention discovering more about you, I’ve always been fascinated by the We thing, I just thought you were some locked up royalty somewhere with access to the net.
Quote:
Marsh behind me
its bogs crying for the words and wisemen (Kiigele!)
and mittens with old patterns that ward off evil but what nobody can read anymore
besides the cranes but they fly off with aurora boreolis
Quote:
Where can you find a smith strong enough to hammer together
the past and the future? Culture and land? Me and us?
What else can I say, I loved your poem. Thanks.Quote:
Swing goes faster and higher
until I fly so high (Kiigele!)
that I make a circle
of past and future (Kiigele!)
there are no contradictions left.
And one equals many.
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Pendragon,
You astound me with those villanelles and sonnets you write, this one had such a sweet wistfulness to it, drew me in and showed a lot of love, and I liked the circle of life in it too.
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Bookworm:Cool. just great. Feels familiar to me, and very honest. Love the shortness of it, don’t really know if it is an actual entry or not, but tempted to give you the contest based on originality if nothing else, but I haven’t seen you since…so.Quote:
I'm lost. No idea where I am. Just wondering around. Hoping I find my way. But if I don't. It's not the end of the world. Just of me finding out what I really knew in the first place. Nothing.
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Toni ~ wow, very dignified and a little dark, cool.
I really like your language here.Quote:
From her twisted mouth flowed twisted ideals
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Virg ~ another epic poem. Some great lines.
I liked the integration of your Italian heritage, and Catholicism, building blocks of yourself. And there was brutal self-honesty in there I have to admire…Quote:
What starveling life has pressed
Upon this face?
Quote:
The face, fattened and graying,
Has never confronted a bayonet
Not even saddled arms upon the back
Or paraded upon a field.
Quote:
An irascible son
De quello paise d’o sole,
Narcissistic husband,
Abbraciatta with my honey pear,
Stoic and spoiled, lustful and laughing,
Adopted citizen and patriot,
Flourishing the flag,
Inseminating the garden,
Eagle and oriole from Brooklyn.
(that reminded me of my Light poem)Quote:
The glass now shatters
Into composite fractions
Quote:
[I wear the Renaissance like a necktie.]
All wonderful lines.Quote:
A writer with eyes
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IP ~ ok, I’m probably going to get in a little trouble for this, but honestly I think you are the best poet around here. :D Imagery is always stunning, your layered depths make me want to talk philosophy, words are always beautiful, and there is this timeless quality to your style I absolutely love.
Crap, I wish I could write as consistently well as you do.Quote:
Eclipse of my shape that dims the ground,
accident of the angular beams
conformed by the orient sky,
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Petrarch ~
Cool. You got it all in those lines, past present future, admirable feat!
Nice feel of watching a montage of your life..Quote:
Changed and unchanging
By what is and will be and what’s been
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Triskele ~ I enjoyed it anyway, so thanks.
__________________________________________________ _________________
But....
Please, Taliesin, choose the next image!
Congratulations Tal. I thought it was excellent too. Besides the ones Riesa mentioned, I loved these lines too:
What does Kiigele mean?Quote:
Originally Posted by Taliesin
Quote:
Originally Posted by Virgil
this is from's tal's entry, Virg.
Quote:
Considering it being made on the last minute we wrote it out of the blue, with no plans or anything. But here it is. "Kiigele!" is a phrase meaning "to the swing!"in Estonian. Often used in older swinging folksongs as a one-word refraine.
Congrats Tal. I really enjoyed your poem too, and had a suspicion it might win. :) Looking forward to the next pic.
Nice going Tal! A good, strong poem, and actually the inspiration for the villanelle I posted (already written :blush:) as it spoke of childhood to me, and I actually never saw the picture we were all writing about! I'll look forward to this one, though! http://smilies.vidahost.com/ups/poeminister/poemi.gif
World will be better off with all of us as birds, wouldn't it be? :D But even in birds, there are always some birds who eat each other's eggs. :(Quote:
Originally Posted by Riesa
And he says that he can't write good English poems. :flare:Quote:
Originally Posted by Riesa
Congratulations! And keep on writing poems, it is not always good to be so modest! :D
*waiting for the next picture eagerly*
Great job, Taliesin - and everybody else!! :D
Come on, Tal, post, post! :lol:
Congrats Taliesin, I wasn't sure how to pronounce "Kiigele" so my brain kept saying "ching!" Yes I'll have to get it fixed one day but right now I just listen to it with quiet amazement. I looked up Estonian mythology to find Toonela. Now I'm curious about the whole genera. Looking forward to the next picture.
Thanks all for your very kind comments.
For those to whom it has meaning; Have a great holiday season. For the others: Have a great holiday season.
My mind would probably say "Kringle" like in Kris Kringle.:santasmilQuote:
Originally Posted by Orionsbelt
Oh us.
Thanks, Riesa, for choosing our poem.
It seemed like a tough competition looking at the other competing poems, but well, it is now up to us to post the next picture, it seems.
http://ewancient.lysator.liu.se/pic/.../celphone2.jpg
Quote:
Originally Posted by Bruce Sterling on cyberpunk
The deadline? We think that everybody will be busy around the christmas and new year so perhaps 7th January 2007?
Moon
Dark suns of fiery grace
Parade the sunshine of lost souls
Who dares the shrapnel of the heart?
What thought drives men to love
Darkened spires of desire, tipped with poison
The jagged shaft of deaths arrow
Speeding onward, driving we to act
In desperation before days moon ends
Lack of light skies in our minds
As thoughts travel onward… past… present
Life’s love of action drives men to fly
Pushes women to deaths edge
So all can say they have gone
Oh I'll try, but it never seems to come together in two weeks. :blush:Quote:
Originally Posted by Taliesin
Very interesting photo Tal.
Speared Sky
In paths of darkness
Walk the worker
Only ever
Looking down;
Though the sun
Fell ever slowly
To its end,
He looked not round.
What meaning
Are worlds given
When each tenant
Never sees them
Trapped inside
Their own dimension
With wireless
To disease them?
If the sun,
The moon, the stars,
Should quietly
Implode
Wishing only
To be noticed
For their work -
A heavy load! -
No cell phone
Would ring a query,
No email
Comment
On how dark
It seems these days
Or where the
Rainbows went.
For no one
Looks anymore
Or has a care.
These mumbles -
As skies fall down
Upon our heads,
We watch our feet
For stumbles.
meep . . . my interpretation, anyways . . . it's a cool picture.
A ToyQuote:
Originally Posted by Taliesin
The immensely dark clouds are over him
Night has fallen on everything;
To him everything looks very dim
He can't guess what's happening around
Whoever is playing with him, he can't merely think
From a human being, he is made a machine
Who can't sing, who in front of his controllers, can't even blink
Holding his briefcase, he is ready for the bomb blast
Ah this terrorism, wasting and killing lots
Just the battle of race and sexes
It has already killed enough with its cruel shots
Out of his mind
He works and works
Keep on doing his dirty work
In the alley, the little girl shrieks
"Beware of the evil that lurks!"
A very dark night
Full of silent horror
Evil again regaining power
Using him as a tool
Making him a fool
Controlling him
His mind, his soul
His doings and his fate
Developing his personality
Into what everyone would hate
Treating him like a toy
After it, they will destroy
Destroy the world
Destroy the very him
After all he is just a toy they are playing with
A doll being used as an actor in this drama of world
These gods
His creators
Have no pity
They try to be witty
But killing people
And creating a DEVIL
I think is really ****ty
I just wrote this poem down. I am looking forward to read other poems! :) And can't wait for the result. What a pity, 7th January is so far far away. :(
Oh well, time passes quickly. :D
Good poems, mir and Triskele! :)
I FINISHED MY POEM FOR THE CONTEST! YAAAAY!!! :D And ,for once, i actually like it :)
Quote:
Originally Posted by Taliesin
The Stork's Nest: Changes
High above precariously perched atop the highest chimney,
The bundle of sticks seems to be a monstrous thing;
Down below, all the lights are on, and people are so busy—
A young man ducks to one side as he hears his cell phone ring.
Progress has came, and with it taken many of the legends we once heard,
The television set replaced the books and nursery rhymes.
In that nest of sticks up there, there lives a very special bird—
Who would have never gone unnoticed in those slower times.
Now the story that she brought humans their babies is only fairytale,
Told by parents too embarrassed to try to explain the truer word.
But when she built her nest upon the housetop, o’re the eves it’s shadow fell—
And everyone rejoiced with gladness, for it was a good-luck bird!
Time does more than change a village into busy cities that never are still:
It steals from us things that we should treasure while we have them with us still…
Pendragon
One good picture yields so many great interpretations! Great poems everyone!
very... interesting Pen, i like it, kinda provoke thought, it really does kinda sneak up on you, i read it through once, then again before it hit me, very very thought provoking, still kinda thinkin about it, thanks
Well here we go. I'm not sure if it egg nog in the noggin or cookies in the can but I'm having trouble getting into this one. Here is what struck me first. I may re-visit this one. :brickwall
Dooooooooooooooooooooo, Dooooooooooooooo, click, Joe?
Yeah! George. Look, I need you to know.
Later, can we meet?
There are unspoken things that I need to say.
Face to face seems the best way.
Sure George. Say four. Starbucks OK?
We can meet at the office and walk a short way.
Plan for a treat!
They have in the window a white icing truff,
Expresso, Frappuccino, and the regular stuff.
Ahhhh, great! Don’t worry. Forgive my tone.
Some years I have carried a secret alone.
It’s good, a warm place to eat.
The weight this burden I do want to end.
Joe as always you are a good friend
Say George can you give a glimmer or hint?
I’m not a fast talker, my thoughts do not sprint.
Simple, and sweet.
As a friend I have moved to some concern.
What ails my companion, I would like to learn.
The trouble grows larger each passing day.
It’s not easy to keep things from you in this way.
Please wait to meet.
Like a dark cloud in the air it presses on me.
Some sun in the sky I am longing to see.
:santasmil
OK, here's my attempt:
The roots of heaven descend in a balled up mass,
And below in the dingy light
The message is lost in a bad connection,
The coming unseen in the night,
The eyes below fixed on streets below as they pass.
Tall spires reach out toward heaven to touch the gray
Some end in the sign of the cross
Some finish in an offering of smog incense
And all blink with a pulse of loss
As red lights keep things that fly in the dark at bay.
With his hearing trained on the faint voice in the phone,
The young man misses the sharp scream
That emerges from the alleyway behind him
And he walks, wrapped in his own dream,
With all the others, through a nightmare, toward home.
Passing through the maze of streets, at last they also pass
(They hope) to heaven and to bliss.
But those creatures below, How can they blame God’s sins?
How can they hope for grace when this
Is the earth the roots of heaven grow in?
An additional request for any mods that might be viewing. Is there any way this thread could be made a sticky? It's obviously a very popular thread, but because it sometimes takes a few days between people posting contest entries, and because so many other threads are started in this section of the forum to showcase peoples' works, it often gets bumped down to places where it's a tad hard to find.
Second the motion! :thumbs_upQuote:
Originally Posted by Petrarch's Love
yeah, me too - i think this is a really great thread, and tons of people would join if it was more obvious!!
i'm down with that, i like the connection b/w a picture and words, makes work for pictures fun.
only 5 more days till i can post up my poem :D how exciting!
Well, as the unspoken rule goes, there will probably be an extension of time anyway. ;)
Yeah! A STICKY! The squeaky wheel gets greased! :thumbs_up