Subject Poetry Contest.

And Then It Fell

A beetle buzzes overhead.
Both Tom and Bill should be in bed.
The storm torments the moonless night.
The attic never had good light.

Tom says, "The devil likes to creep
Around your soul while you're asleep.
He saves the scary shapes for fun.
He'll get your soul when he is done."

"That buzzing beetle bothers me,"
Bill says, "It bounces aimlessly.
Its noise annoys me. Why don't you
Just claim it is the devil, too?"

Tom's index fingers aim a cross.
"Release that bug!" They're at a loss
Explaining why the buzzing stops.
The light bulb flickers till it pops.

The beetle falls upon the floor.
The boys rush out the attic door.
Are beds a safer place to hide
When beetles want to get inside?

I'm going to wrap up this contest a day early, since no one has posted for sometime. First, a big thank you to all who submitted poems!

breathtest A short but great little poem!

Quote:

---

he became a ghost
in his own home.

---

That is how I've felt for a long time now. There's more than one kind of haunting...

Dark Muse

Loved the repeating line that underscores exactly where the fear lies in this case of a haunting!

Quote:

---

no it is not the darkness
white I fear, but I have
discovered there are things
which live there
waiting eagerly
hungry eyed
and salivating
for those wandering souls
who have ventured
too far to turn back.

---

YesNo

Interesting approach, kind of "a logical explanation for everything" and a touch humorous at the same time! Nice!

Quote:

---

"That buzzing beetle bothers me,"
Bill says, "It bounces aimlessly.
Its noise annoys me. Why don't you
Just claim it is the devil, too?"

---

But the winner is: (drumroll) moonbird!

I really loved your description of the creature, detail following upon detail.

Quote:

---

There is a creature that has no eyes...
There is a creature that has no face...
There is a creature that has no soul...
There is a creature that lives in death...

---

Great stuff! And moonbird, you're up!:hurray::hurray::hurray:

Woops. Ninja'd by the conclusion... Mine wasn't much anyway :D Congrats Moonbird!

Thank you, Pendragon! I will start thinking of the next subject...

Sorry for the delay. The next subject will be...

Controversial Issues

By this I mean for you to choose an issue which has caused heated debates recently to write about. For example, I recently read an excellent poem about abortion. Politics, religion, war... Whatever you choose, the more scandalous the better.

Deadline November 30. Good luck!

Um, moonbird? Politics is a forbidden subject here on the forum, and religious topics are some of the fastest lock-up threads on the forum due to massive disagreements with little or no compromise, do you think you could choose another subject?

Ah but Pen, with clever wit, we shall surpass all doubts.

Well I guess I could think up a new topic then, although if you'd still like to take a shot at something controversial be my guest.

Here ya go, subject numero dos: Rebirth

Have at it!

He went to war because he was a patriot,
They shipped him off to some foreign land
No one will ever know just how much hell he caught
Or just how many died by his hand

Somewhere in between the slaughter and the sacrifice
In a blood soaked fog he lost his way
He signed on for two years but he was called back twice
Then his mind just couldn't take another day

The good man died in the dark of the firefight
The one who returned thus reborn
He shudders at shadows, hears faint noises by firelight
Waking up still in the battle each morn

For my Dad the voices beckon and the shadows have come to day
I can't really blame him if alcohol is the only thing that makes them go away...

Pen

(For my father Delmer Neal Harris who never really came home from Vietnam. I lost him in my life then, and for good around 8 years ago. Still loving and missing you, Dad!)

Priestess Walk

I bathed within the sacred fount,
as the sweet waters of Lethe
to wash away the past
and memories fade as one
just woke from a vague dream.

Emerging from Avalon's well
born anew into the world,
blessed within the glow of the moon,
walking from death back into life.

All that once I knew now forsaken,
and all never known before
awakens like a new born spring bloom.

For one brief moment I stood at
the pinnacle where all was one,
past, present future existed in
a single space of time, but now
the time has come to step upon
earthly ground again.

Unburdened by mortal concerns
with the freedom now to walk
upon the path of the Goddess
and follow her into unknown destiny.

Sitting in the illuminating glow
Fist to chin, eyelid to eyelid,
He pondered.

Were they right?
Could they be?
So many reasons to disbelieve.

Too young. Too naïve.
Without expertise. Without perspective.
But a grain of truth.

The name to the voice
Irrelevant to the
Truth of the words.

He bowed his head.
He had been wrong.
A wiser man now.

(Apologies in advance, out of practice.)

10 days til the deadline. Keep em coming.

Rebirth Again

Wheels turning,
Cycles burning
Through the lives we make.

Death, rebirth
On heaven, earth:
Joy is ours to take.

A born again suicide-girl
decked in spade, heart, diamond and club
trip pants
nursed her illegal habits.

She spent her high school days fawning
on misspent youths
and the highs and company
they offered. But the morning after.

One day she realized
those railroad tracks up and down
her legs
either end in the womb or
in the dirt.

She's clean now.
Her scars are covered in cherry blossoms.
Coy birds and wizened koi flit about her thighs.
Now the only needles she handles are
sterilized.

horizon fills
a picture brill
of nature thrills
ribbons and clips,
further afield
appears the moon
hazy, asleep
looking to board
the skies amour,
the morning dew
captures the moods
of winter drops
wrapping the shades
of flaura's coats
whilst freshest dawn
sums up the scene
and
warmest sun
sparkles the fun

Please open flower, you are
withered
and I am old.
Make me young,
flower, remold
me.

I am almost finished with my entry and should have it up early tomorrow (I'm from California, in case your time zone is different.) I'll do my best to have it up by noon PST!

A Leaf in Autumn

Like a feather floating in the wind,
the leaf glides along the morning dew,
surfing from drop to drop like an ocean buoy that,
gazing upon the beach’s white banks,
bobs from the perpetual crests
of the afternoon tide.

Coming to rest on the damp earth,
he watches the waking sun
poke through the distant mountain range,
blanketing him in amber rays.

Perhaps this is the end, he thinks.
Shriveling under the blanket,
he now waits for death and decomposition,
hoping someday to be reborn as a blade of grass.

Mono

Why not once?
A single bursting forth
In nine months
Would elevate our worth.

Supply-side
Cuts to boost our demand
For one ride
After the infant's arm band.

Life's a game
Of stout, hardcore players--
Still the same
For cocooned, winged flyers.

Not this soul,
Nor this time, and not this earth
Have this goal:
To be again in rebirth.

I apologize for the brief comments but there were a lot of excellent submissions to read.

Pendragon: A very original idea. I liked the phrase "blood soaked fog."

Dark Muse: Very elegant and lyrical to read.

RobinHood3000: An interesting and solemn poem. Not entirely sure how it relates to rebirth but I enjoyed it nonetheless.

YesNo: Simple yet powerful in its few words.

krymsonkyng: Sad and very lovely.

cacian: Very good imagery complemented by interesting rhymes.

breathtest: I had to read this a few times before seeing its simple beauty.

IceM: Lovely descriptions. I liked the last line.

The Comedian: A bit difficult for me to understand but the gist I got was unique and interesting.

And out of all these the one I liked the best was.........

Dark Muse. Your poem was beautiful and a worthy winner. You're up.

Thank you very much, I will have the next subject up shortly.

Homecoming

Sometimes,
In the mellow and mature twilight of dusk,
Heavy and laden with
tender memories,
One glimpses the rose bud like face
Of morning
with its promise of renewal and rejuvenation
The flames of hope are rekindled
And mysterious evening unfolds

Recently I have been having this fixation with owls, so I have decided to make your next subject "owl"

I know this will be a busy time for a lot of people so I am going to hold off an a deadline and see how things go before establishing one.

People claim that the old owl says "Who"
They only show the facts that they don't know
Some eared owls indeed mummer "Who! Whoooo!"
But other have different voices as we will show
There's a owl called a "Screech Owl" which actually wails
There is a "Barn Owl" that actually screeches
Some owls are huge, massive shadows that sail
Some are small enough to hide in a crack in our beeches
An old hollow "Whooooo!" can give me a start
The wails sound like lost souls adrift in the night
The screeches are harsh, demanding voices that quiver the heart,
Silent shadows in the darkness, who scan the woods at low light
So read up on owls, the large and the small
Learn their sizes, their names, and the sound of their call
But you know little or nothing, yeah, nothing at all
If you think that they all say "Whooooo!"
Study their feathers that make them stealthy and quick
Study their eating habits. WARNING: You may get sick!
Study their prey, so tiny and yet so quick
And remember, they don't all say "Whoooo!"

Pendragon

Owl

Songbirds fear the owl's strike
And torment it by day.
With darkness near the owl's like
Death coming out to play.

OWL

oblongs are wings in flight with speed of light,
willows in awe of such, a wonder bird,
leaps upon cretes are raised in joy of splendor owl.

My thoughts on the possibility of the next subject (Love)

Loving an Amazon

There she was,
The rough tomboy
Could ride the horse
And float with the buoys

This was her fourth
Of many such
Delicate ways as befits a court
And Amazonian (yet maternal and feminine) ways like a butch

A cloth around her neck tied
Like an adventuring fisherwoman dressed
Dagger against her dress pressed
Her opponents like brides cried

Could gut the whale
And cut the wolf rabid
Take care of her followers avid
Yet tame and shear the recalcitrant male

She takes her fifth shot
I am struggling with my second
Her scars the “medals” from battles fought
Mine arise from feelings for her heightened

She treats me by turns
As a fool, a stool pigeon, a clown
And at times an idiot to be controlled by treatment stern
Or more often ridiculed and humiliated for the edification of the town

She hoists me up to be exhibited like in statues
In tarred finery, hugging mannequins
Prompting me to ask : Is My love for her fatuous ?
Am I doomed to be hoisted on pedestals only to be let down by my self indulgent sins

One day, like a painted and (pinned and pained) bird,
I rise on the wings of my feeling seared
I cry out both for myself and the amazon I have loved
Who across the oceans of the world has rowed

Like a ruddy and swarthy female version of Othello
Myself the male Desdemona to whom she at last consents
To relate the tales of the seas , black to yellow
Through which she has sailed up to times present
The characters whom she has met , rascals and saints
And of every hue in between
Her tales were enough to give a delicate lad like me the faints
Telling of a world beyond what he had ever seen

She wonders and marvels at my innocence
Like a diver , she means to torment and bully me out of my shell
And extract the pearls of good sense
That lies buried in my dell

At last we give way to the feelings of mutual affection and love
A mating like that between land and sea
Between the fiery eagle and a gentle dove
Each loving the other, both know “Who is me ?”
The Amazon warrior in star like hues her lover dyed
Who in pain filled ecstasy cried

Zen like, In the morning after,
Things are the same fore and after,
The sun still shines, the birds still sing
But the lovers view it as the beginning of eternal spring

Unlucky Owls

We brought the owls in
'twas above the hearth
from which they did survey
And lo! before our eyes
our beloved raccoon
was kil't to our dismay

:tailor STATELY

Actually, the whole process of pearl formation in oysters seems to be linked to the following universal themes :

- Creation / Birth following labor
- The act of shedding tears / crying as a cleansing . cathartic process, whatever the catalyst (Of course it may be private and be subdued) and in a sense enriches and realizes our most delicate emotions in a profound manner, no cause is shallow in this sense
- The act of sex

There seem to be actual similarities between the process of tear and pearl formation with the tear drop acting as a metaphysical hologram of reality

Also swarthy is intended to mean wheatish complexioned and not dark

Because I do not know how much time I will have for judging this month and so not to leave people hanging I decided to set the deadline for January 1st.

Thank you to everyone who participated. This one was a very touch call.

Pendragon: A very charming and humorous little poem, as well as being quite educational. I enjoyed the exploration into the various different types of owls and dispelling the common misconception and stereotype about "who." There was a child-like feel to the poem. I cracked up on the line "Some are small enough to hide in a crack in our beeches"


YesNo: I enjoyed your more dramatic approach to the subject in exploring their expertise as predators. I liked the darker aspect of the poem and loved the last line "Death coming out to play."

cacian: I loved your use of the acrostic form for this poem. I thought you had some very beautiful imagery and portrayed the owl in an elegant and haunting way. It was a very worthy tribute to these most fascinating birds.

And the winner is......

tailor STATELY: Your poem cracked me up. It reminded me of something by Edward Gorey. I loved the humor of it and its originality. And the classical feeling of the language of the poem gave it an extra charm which I quite enjoyed.

Dark Muse I thank you again for such a lovely feedback and congratulations to the winner

tailor STATELY
well done a very well deserved win:hurray:

Thanks, Dark Muse, although "beeches" are trees and I fail to see the humor of that line! :) :) :)

Anyway, congratulations to tailor STATELY! Our newcomers are showing their skills quite remarkably! :seeya:

Thank you everyone ! I'll have to look up Edward Gorey.

My inspiration came about over a rough wood carving of four or five owls that we put above our woodstove. The subject of owls being unlucky in the home had come up but ignored. Prior to the owls roosting we had a ceramic raccoon which shared the tile floor with the woodstove. Evidently the roost was too unstable and the wood carving fell directly on the poor raccoon. No more owls grace the inside of our home... in fact, where did the owls disappear to ?

Next subject: music.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Pendragon

Thanks, Dark Muse, although "beeches" are trees and I fail to see the humor of that line! :) :) :)

---

Of course.....I knew that....I just find trees really really funny, yeah that is it. :ihih:

Oy, I have a natorrious habbit of misreading things from time to time, and somewhere I got it in my head that it said breaches. :blush:

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Dark Muse

Of course.....I knew that....I just find trees really really funny, yeah that is it. :ihih:

Oy, I have a notorious habit of misreading things from time to time, and somewhere I got it in my head that it said breaches. :blush:

---

I figured you read it as beaches, or even britches! Don't worry about it, no poet of your caliber can ever be said to loose her mind! You may be like me. I read so fast that I find it almost impossible to read aloud, as my mind is already anywhere from 5 to 10 or more lines ahead of my voice. It's a source of great amusement to my kids, who will ask me to read something (and mind you, they are 24, 23, and 21) just to catch the mistakes I make! Wooo-woooo-wooooo! As Curly of the Three Stooges says. :willy_nilly::willy_nilly::willy_nilly:

Music Written In Love

A subtlety of sound,
the memory of your breath
upon my neck, harp strings
quiver in the air and my
nerves vibrate.

The music in your eyes
which your fingers
create, and I recall
each stroke
upon my flesh.

A melody
once written
on a night we were
alone together,
and every note
is a touch of your
lips upon my body.

You have transformed
me into an intangible
infinity, and I hear
my own soul singing
at the end of your
fingertips.

Music's Entrainment

Pendulums swinging,
Lovers singing--
The music has begun.
Once out of tune
They both will soon
Sway nicely one by one.

Entrainment: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Entrainment_%28physics%29

music be the wave
that drifts you away
to a world of uptunes,
decibels of sounds
filter your rays
and sweeten
your ways

melodic is the ring
that takes you afar
as highs as the
sighs and
strings you a line
of rythmes and light.