Subject Poetry Contest.

Thank you both for the early entries, they are both great!

The Gift

We sit across from one another
candle light flickering in the darkened room,
casting ghostly shadows
that waltz upon our faces
we gaze raptly at each other
across the expanse of snowy linen
forks poised demurely above the hungry food

With an almost unseen flick of an eyelid,
we begin the feast,
a bite of the tenderest chicken cooked in wine
asparagus damp still from the earth,
crisp and green with new spring
and fragrant potatoes redolent of childhood and life
a white sauce that glides joyously down my throat
and pale wine that glistens with a thousand stories

they light upon my tongue like a flock of noisy seagulls
on a winter day
and in a burst of trancendent magic
are transformed into words
that fall like ruby red gems

we gaze in astonishment, my muse and I
then, laughing like children, we fall upon them,
with ravenous delight

Qimissung

The seven sing songs of swords and souls
Those bloody Greeks
And their poor chores
Whose words fall like ruby red gems
To be trod upon.
By Roman boot heels
The daughters of gods and mortal men
Trade divinity
For clarity
Before cast to the seven seas

words fall

I write
words fall like ruby red gems…

then screw
it up and start again.

My mind
is blank as paper;

my blood
waits for its orders.

My heart
is open over, over

my love
is coming closer, closer.

My eyes
shut. Death black then indigo

lapis lazuli
wild orchid white and dark yellow

ochre.
I grab her hand and hold her tight.

She tells
me of her undreamt worlds and through the night

we disappear
where angels fear and heavens rage

and reappear
through atmospheres as from backstage.

We harmonize
the universe in perfect fifths

recite songs
from The Tempest, rewrite Ovid's myths.

We speak in rhyme,
dithrambics and in syzygies

and improvise
encomia for Mnemosyne.

Her sisters
kiss and laugh and feed me nectar sweet

and trace their names
across my skin and lick my sweat

and crown me
with Parnassus' golden laurel leaves

and whisper
endless promises and I believe.

My lover's
hand frees mine then beckons through the glow...

I fall
and plummet backwards to the space below.

My open
eyes see only page and pen.

My blood
dries and I am blank again.

Wow, this is already going to be a hard one to judge, great entries so far!

We Are Not Amused

My words were fakes. Though I earnestly fought,
no line I wrote would set an immortal jewel.
Divine inspiration’s a myth, I thought,
a childish tale, and twice as falsely cruel.

Then she swept down, all draped in silk, with hems
of stars. My ceiling shook to hear her speak.
Perhaps her words fell like ruby red gems,
but I wouldn't know, since I don't know Greek.

Somewhere in middle Burma
Where gorges cut the land
The corundum gods bled out
In lakes of ruby sand

The mighty rocks laid cover
Upon the ruby pools
To keep the god-red essence
Far from the hands of fools

Where riches hide in splendor
Man's heavy hands will go
And so it was with Mogok
Where ruby veinlets show

Gods demand a sacrifice
For every ruby found
And so the Burmese warlords
Gave tribute to the ground

I took a walk in Thailand
I bought a ruby ring
I dreamt that night of Mogok
Of endless tunnelling

Where passages are narrow
They send the miners deep
To harvest ruby darkness
Up from its stony sleep

My dream was one of children
Enchained in endless line
Chipping out each ruby
From filthy fractured mine

One turned to me in silence
Her words were blood-red tears
They fell like rubies falling
Upon my flaming ears

I came alone from Thailand
No ruby on my hand
But dreams at night still haunt me
Of distant grieving land

St. John, Virgin Islands


holding hands under
a cobalt blue sky,
walking to our hotel room
on white sand, you smile
by an aquamarine sea

sitting in the wicker chair
I begin to write poetry,
like a new dream,
a warm tropical sun;
you have become my muse

you stretch out in bed,
reading a brochure
as I watch you from behind,
sea caves, you say
there are sea caves

we will go tomorrow,
I begin to write a story
as the sun goes down,
we point at distant stars
but you inspire me more

and I kiss you,
your lips like spun cotton
lying here with you,
voices rise like children,
words fall like ruby red gems

Thank you all for the great entries, this is going to be a hard one to judge. I will have the results up soon hopefully.

Trust me when I saw this was incridably difficult to judge. I am quite happy with the nuerious and all wonderful entries but alas I must find a way to choose one to win above the rest.

Pendragon: As always you have a beautiful way of words. You produced a beautiful image with your wonderful words, and I particularly enjoyed the way in which you took the given phrase and turned it into a sort of refrain with slight alterations each time.

qinissung: A wonderfully vivid poem which evoked all of the senses and really seemed to bring the words into life. I particularly loved the allusions to food within your poem and thought it was quite delightful and savory to read.

krymsonkyng : I loved the classical references in your poem, and this one was a close front runner to win. I thought the imagery was great and loved the descriptions you used. You packed quite a powerful punch in a few lines.

blanklverse: This was a remarkable poem, and another one which came quite close to winning. I applaud your ambitious use of language and quite apt considering the topic of this poem. You had some wonderful use of words in your poem. I also loved the concept of your poem.

AuntShecky: A delightful poem, I thought the first verse was particularly wonderful. I loved the imagery you captured with your poem. I also loved the self-criticism as a poet expressed in the first verse. That verse line "My words are fake" most particularly caught my attention and I thought it was a wonderful opening. The very last line also made me chuckle.

autolycus Your poem was skillfully written with some absolutely stunning verses. I loved the feeling that it captured, and this poem may well have won, but though the concept of the muse is a subjected of one and everyone interprets different within your poem I just could not quite see the inspiration and influence of the muse within the subject of your poem.

paradoxical : One of the things that really stuck out about your poem, was the fact that I really liked the way in which you choose a more mortal influence to be your muse within the poem. That was a creative take upon the topic and I think you approached it in a wonderful way and captured some lovely moments. It was a sweet, charming and tender poem.

But the winner for this contest is

~drum roll~

The Comedian Your poem stood out to me above the rest. For one thing, it had me in near hysterics all the way through. There was something that seemed so completely original and unique in your approach of the subject, and you had one of the most creative ways of inserting the required phrase. Your poem did produce the strongest reaction from me in reading and was delightful and skillfully done.

In moonlit dim, where shadows lie, soft white curtains, flow by and by. The summers wind caresses night, giving life to candlelight. And on the marble, in glass you see, the last of a rose that will ever be. The end of its beauty.

"Songs of the universe, And there I lie, Under stars of heaven," FINISH ME

An M&M for your muse, Comedian. Well done!

Yes, well done! I'm just happy that my poem was even considered.

Congrads on the win, The Comedian! :hurray::hurray::hurray:

Well done, The Comedian.

And paradoxical

Quote:

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I'm just happy that my poem was even considered.

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I shouldn't be so modest; personally I thought yours was better than Comedian's.