Picture Poetry Contest (...continued...)

Somehow I got here.

Even Legends Change

I rode high on the winds on the back of my dragon, doing about 40 knots,
When we passed over that fabled fairy Land of Oz, I’d know it by heart.
But the burning deserts that surround that legendary word are now parking lots…

From my vantage point above I could see Emerald City, such a wonderful spot!
The Yellow Brick Road must have given way to new pavement; not on my chart!
I rode high on the winds on the back of my dragon, doing about 40 knots,

Were those The Woogle-Bug Collage and The Wizard Laboratory, those tiny dots?
I hear Professor HM and The Wizard have invented little pills that make one smart!
But the burning deserts that surround that legendary word are now parking lots…

I saw some sort of a track down in Quadling Country around The Hammerheads rocks,
And I wonder that Glinda the Good would allow such a thing to take place, did she depart?
I rode high on the winds on the back of my dragon, doing about 40 knots,

Then I was hailed from the side by The Yellow Knight astride The Parrotox,
“I say there, Sir Pendragon, if thou wilt but follow me, ‘tis needed at the palace thou art.”
But the burning deserts that surround that legendary word are now parking lots…

And Ozma was there to meet with all of my old friends from the tales from my box,
“Well,” Said the Princess. “Give the people what they want, and those deserts weren’t smart!”
I rode high on the winds on the back of my dragon, doing about 40 knots,
But the burning deserts that surround that legendary word are now parking lots…

Pendragon
© 7/27/2007

A day at the amusement park

I walk through this park, this park of lies.
I scold the man, who “braves” the rides.
I snip at this false sense of nature.
Scoffing at the ignorance of its creatures.

The hypocrisy weighed by the dollar
Wages war on true nature, turns dirt into squallier.
As a “brave” man sits in seats so safe,
His eyes on a nature that sits in his way.

The crowds bored with their constant survival
Ask their great masters for more rides arrival.
The swans who had ate from my hand,
Falls victim to the “Sunder Sand.”

So I sit with a view of these nature-less lies.
They care not the beautiful, but only the rides.

OK here goes.

AMUSEMENT PARK

We ran through the maze of amusements
Having fun for the sake of fun
Taking advantage of all that was new
Awed by what was offered on the midway
Taking our fill of the excitements
Newfound and thrilling all
No concerns for tomorrow
Or what was to come in the days
Of growing up, growing together, growing old
When did it end, this time of only pleasure
Of laughter for laughter’s sake
When did the slow smile of contentment
Take the place of excitement in the moment
The thrill of what was new
Replaced by the slow growing thrill
Of what we have come to know

broken town...

walking thru the puddles of tears
wishing i could wash away her fears
around the town we called home
thru the house we called our own
i walk next door to see mrs. even
and smile as she hands me that tea of heavan
i think back to the smiles she brought
listening to her storys with tab in my arms
i go back home
without her in my arms
i look at this town
without her it doesnt feel like a home
just a normal ordinary place
houses,roads,schools,
couples dancing in the rain
i think back to that kiss
for the first time i realise...im realy alone
no longer does this down bring me bliss
i walk towards the center of the bridge
where we spent so much time together
knowing i wont be missed
i silently whisper i love you
knowing it wont be returned
and the icy water bites at my skin
as your tears bit at my heart
i dont even fight
i just konw that its right

Oh great! I didn't realize we had a new picture. Will have to think about it.

Glad you're going to enter again, Virg. Look forward to reading your entry.

Since I'll be out of town this weekend, I'm extending the deadline by a day from the 19th to Monday the 20th. That still gives you only one more weekend to write, though. Hope to see a few more entries from the talented Lit. Net. poets. :)

I've been playing with this form lately. Here's my entry. Thanks for the extension Petrarch. :)

Quote:

---

Penetralia

The trees of heaven cast shadows below,
As song birds chatter and fly in the sun.
And the wine that one sips is blessed with white light,
The fields spread in rows to distant
Horizons, small clouds shaped as lips,
Ocean spawned, whisper invocations.
The trees of heaven cast shadows below,
As song birds chatter and fly in the sun.
With the ardor of youth
He lifts himself up one branch at a time,
And with his eyes all healed he sees
From the top the dark line of the world,
The trees of heaven cast shadows below.

---

Taken from the sky, the photo
might be anyplace on Garden Earth,
prosperous, sedate, well-ordered.
But there is turmoil somewhere among those
rows of trees, those graceful buildings.
A lie is being told, an act of callous neglect
or the blessed everyday activities
of our sometimes too ordinary lives.

But the watchers are always there,
if not in the sky then casually passing
by an uncurtained window
or at a table across the way from us
in some restaurant, in the seemingly
unoccupied park as we take an evening stroll.
From behind one of those trees
or lying down in the grass, they look up,
take note of us and wonder, Is he
really as contented as he appears to be?
Is she going to be late
for some life or death appointment?

But we are always seen, if not by satellite,
by ‘God,’ then by
our lovers, or our enemies.
And if there were no other, outside eyes
there would still be that someone inside us
watching, watching...

Great to see some new entries. :) Keep 'em coming folks.

Two Worlds

On fairy dust wings I fly, hovering
between make-believe and reality.
What ticklish fun it was
Pretending in the Real World,
masquerading by day
as hummingbird and butterfly,
by night, a firefly,
Playing hide 'n seek in the twinkle lights,
tricky games that made me hide my mouth and giggle.
But oh, it feels so good to be home, to
alight upon the tip top tree,
to wash myself with evening dew,
to cover myself with this leafy blanket,
to dream of my trip to reality.
Tomorrow it is back to the old grind of
sprinkling fairy dust on those who want to fly,
but best of all
to be Real in the Pretend World.

amp, August Twenty, TwoThousandSeven

I think you changed the deadline to the 20th but if I'm too late, that's okay.

Just fine, Ampoule. I met with some harrowing delays on my return anyway, so I'm just now officially closing the contest.

So, for everyone, the contest is now officially closed and I'll finish judging in the next day or so.

*stealth-ly passes Pet an envelop filled with monopoly*

*Upon looks of bemusement on Pet's face, RR raises his index finger and holds it to his lips, suggesting to keep the transaction a secret, then dives into the sea of night*

I love this Virgil

Quote:

---

Penetralia

The trees of heaven cast shadows below,
As song birds chatter and fly in the sun.
And the wine that one sips is blessed with white light,
The fields spread in rows to distant
Horizons, small clouds shaped as lips,
Ocean spawned, whisper invocations.
The trees of heaven cast shadows below,
As song birds chatter and fly in the sun.
With the ardor of youth
He lifts himself up one branch at a time,
And with his eyes all healed he sees
From the top the dark line of the world,
The trees of heaven cast shadows below.

---

"small clouds shaped as lips,ocean spawned, whisper invocations" - inspired.