I don't think it's fair to ask Pen as he has contributed to the contest, but autolycus has volunteered to judge see post 558 above.
I'd propose that a non-contributor to this round judges the contest - if not Autolycus then I'd be happy to do it.
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I don't think it's fair to ask Pen as he has contributed to the contest, but autolycus has volunteered to judge see post 558 above.
I'd propose that a non-contributor to this round judges the contest - if not Autolycus then I'd be happy to do it.
Contest rules are as below:
these are at post 1 of the thread. Strictly speaking, schadenfreude should judge the contest but schadenfreude seems to have disappeared. In her (I'm assuming 'her'!) absence, someone needs to judge the contest and move it along. I think we've got enough people on the site who could judge it without having to ask Pen to do it. Autolycus has offered, I would be happy to do it, or perhaps, for a fully objective solution, one of the mods could be asked to do it?Quote:
For any newbies, here's a list of the rules describing how this works:
1. The winner from the previous round will select a picture for the next round and set an appropriate deadline date for submissions (usually about two to three weeks has worked out well). The same person who selects the picture is also the judge for that round.
2. Participants then write a poem inspired by what they see in the picture for that round and submit the poem in a post to the thread before the deadline date.
3. Only one poem per person may be submitted for judging in each round.
4. The judge for each round is responsible for posting when the deadline has been reached and the contest is closed to any new submissions for that round. He/she is then responsible for selecting a winner in a (hopefully) timely fashion.
5. Once the judge for that round has posted the winner, then it is that winner's turn to select the new picture and act as judge for the next round. (Traditionally judges have given brief feedback to all participants in addition to selecting a winner).
6. This contest is designed for the purposes of having fun and exercising our poetry skills. The only prize offered is the pride of winning and the fun of getting to select the next picture and act as judge. The greatest reward, however, has proven to be the enjoyment of improving one's own poetry and the chance to read the really great contributions of others here. So join in, and have fun!
okay, let's leave the matter for the mods to judge ,,any volunteer??
We had two volunteers, Auto and Fifth. Perhaps both will do so? And thanks, Fifth, for saying it wasn't fair to make me ignore my poem! I worked hard on that one! ;) :)
I see. I am a published poet, with over 300 pieces in various print and online archives, and one small magazine issue unto myself. If that serves as sufficient criteria for judging, and I don't know, maybe it doesn't, I'd be happy to help.
I have no interest in posting my own material on LN unless it is a cash award thingy:p . For money I'd stoop!
Thanks for the enlightenment Fifth, as always, a pleasure.
*grin*
I will step aside for anyone else who wants to judge and pick a picture for the next round. I'm just here 'in the breach', so to speak. My poetic bona fides are certainly nowhere as extensive as Pen's or Jozanny's or any of many of the other contributors around here.
if any one of the 2 is from the mods let them take the charge,,,
or let both of them pass a unanimous decision jointly
I agree, but do it quickly, that is the point right?
OK, in the interests of the competition and in the spirit of the Games... oops, I mean the Picture Poetry Contest... I hereby declare (most precipitously and without any authority whatsoever except that of being impetuous and unable to withstand anymore of this tension) that:
Based on the atmosphere of childhood fear and creeping gloom engendered by the poem, and the responses made, all of creative poetic merit...
I would vote that Pen take this round, since my completely subjective judgement is that if I were to put that picture in a book, next to a poem which would fit the mood of the book and genre of the book, it would most likely be Pen's.
Seriously, the Pendragon's poem is exactly of that ghoulish (almost Dahlian) kind of child-scary material which is funny and yet might conceal something darker. And hence, if everyone is willing to give me my druthers, it's Pen!
agreed with autolycus :thumbs_up
i`m anxious to see the next contest:D
Perhaps this is a better picture for poetry... Deadline 15th of September
http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...ane/reaper.jpg
Congratulations Pen!!
I'm sensing hostility here. Apparently, others did not agree with my poem as the winner. Fine. Someone else choose a bloody picture! :flare::flare::flare:
Why's there hostility? *grin* It's not as if I've favoured Pen in the past; it's just that if nobody wanted to make the decision, I made it on grounds which I've stated.
I will say that there are poems which some might deem more poetic, poems perhaps more profound or stylistically maybe more beautiful, but I still think Pen's poem was most appropriate for the picture.
YMMV, but as I said before, and as Pen seems to agree, that was a provisional verdict. Nobody disagreed, we moved on.
Sometimes I think we've moved to become a society that doesn't like to disagree openly. It manifests in the news media, in classrooms, in 'civil society' – we seek to portray balance, no winners or losers, everything fair, everyone has a say. But that's not always a good thing. Sometimes, there is no balance; sometimes, people are wrong; sometimes, there are losers; sometimes there cannot be fairness without inequity.
Ah well. Why don't we just look at the picture Pen put up, realise that it's a good iconic picture, and work at it? Surely we are all poets.
Since no one else seems inclined to start, I will.
The Winter Rabbit
Winter winds slammed doors
and rushed people
to warm fires
cold cut into intruders' skin
into all those who dared
dared be outside
another inside day
the animals too
hid from the harsh blast
as icy snow drifted to the floor
in flurries
the trees bent against the wind
and froze
captured in the moment
bowing to nature
and to its guest
a grim figure
that swept through
the snowy drift
searching for its next victim
the woods were silent
all stayed clear of winter's
unkindly accomplice
the one who searched
and found none
for all feared the chilly death
all but one
a single hare
white as the snow
stirred in the path
warm within its coat
at home in the soft snow
not afraid of winters blast
and stepping in the path
of death itself
it paused
and gazed at the cloaked figure
which almost disappeared
in the background
cloaked and hidden
and ice spread around it
killing any thing in its circle
and freezing the branches
but the hare did not comprehend
who or what
stood before it
it did not know the fear of death
as did the humans
or the less clothed animals
winter was its home
ice and snow
were not terrors
Death paused in its path
and stared at this unlikely animal
that had no fear
no terror or respect
it stared into the eyes
of the little rabbit
that sat in its path
and for the first time
paused
and did not step
did not kill
as it was accustomed
but paused
what was this
that made death pause?
and that death held no terror in
just a rabbit?
and for the first time
death saw life
and life that did not fear death
and saw no reason to destroy it
this thing that was so brave
and if not brave
so delicate
and so the scythe dropped
and in that winter night
death dyed
and the first green of spring
came in the morning
and the frost disappeared
and warmth
beckoned the people
out of hiding
out of fear
because of the rabbit
that loved winter
Thanks for a truly beautiful start, AndyDio! http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...ing_dragon.gif
The Fell Stroke
Death winnows the wide-eyed
Since the rabbit defied
And scrapped the numbed lots
Of the dangling knots,
Their weighty cadence,
Disguised crumbling leaves,
Dredged from the eaves
To escort the grim stride
From the Great Divide,
Primordial Sense.
The sight of fearless bunny made me smile, so I thought I'd go for a funny sonnet in tetrameters:
Bunny and the Reaper
The Reaper, playing with his tool,
swinging his scythe from side to side,
sings softly, "I'm nobody's fool",
his hood over his face doth slide
as he is dancing to his rhythm,
the tree's boughs curling with surprise
and the dead leaves dancing with 'im,
when suddenly li'l Bunny cries,
"Uncle, what's that there thing thou hast?",
oblivious of the jeopardy.
The Reaper starts, and he seems crest-
fallen, flees in agony.
And the moral of the story?Frighten Death and live in glory!
Hm, the indentation of the couplet didn't work out the way I wanted to have it. Can't help it.
Hello everyone,
I apoplogise for failing to judge the previous contest. Unfortunately, several events came up and my mind has been so occupied lately that I've completely forgotten about this contest. I know that is a weak excuse and I am sorry for the confusion and hassle that I've caused.
I'm extremely grateful to Pen for taking charge of the situation. I dread to think that I was almost responsible for this long-enduring thread fading into oblivion. Many thanks, Pen! (Fantastic picture, by the way)
I apologise once more,
Schad.
as death lay dormant neath the trees
it dreamt of pain and misery
"oh what will they beseech from me?
to love and live with family?"
a chuckle begins beneath his shroud
starting quiet and growing loud
as it looks t`ward heaven`s pathetic clouds
and wonders if entrance would be allowed
to take an angel by it`s wings
and show it earths disgusting kings
for whom he has been pulling strings
and take joy in the dirge the angels sings
and deaths triumphant dream did cease
though it didn`t mind in the least
for from life`s grasp he would release
all the world and bring it peace
deaths head rose slightly, stopped and stared
towards two tiny eyes that seemed prepared
to accept what death was willing to share
to ascend the darkness of eternal stairs
deaths head tilted, confused and dazed
"this mortal, in deaths presence, unfazed?
does it not know of the lifes i have razed?"
all this time the tiny eyes remained glazed
two tiny eyes staring out
as death itself began to shout
"is it my powers you doubt?
the candle of eternity i have snuffed out!"
it touched a tree, watched it wither
and ask the eyes to come hither
no response from the eyes placed death in a dither
and to the eyes death did slither
with a rotting hand death touched the eyes
of a fiber glass rabbit, to deaths surprise
had no reaction so death surmised
it must be a god, and said his goodbyes...
Unfathomed shape treading a misty trail,
bloodhound that makes no sound following souls,
with icicled hood, at each step, full sail,
the reaper stiffens victims, filling holes.
His scythe, winter’s slicing metallic vein,
rattles as it falls still limbs white with snow,
scattering the cold interwoven skein
from boughs rankled as their raw fibers show.
Grim advocate for what is seldom known,
that life's form is like a spiral seashell,
a tunnel in which crystal clouds are blown
as faint memories of a rhythmic knell
to land, dissolve in dust, and sprout anew
warmth in colors by a petal outgrew.
Little Bunny
Go away, little bunny,
turn your face away from me;
Let me mind my business,
you yours;
Stare not at my dress,
Nor bewilder at my gait;
My instrument may frighten you
but don't
It's not your turn yet
nor am here for you;
Go away, little bunny,
nibble at the green grass,
crimson carrots and have fun;
Presently am in hurry
and will get back to you
upon your turn;
The old ***** is pregnant
and i am quite perplexed
what justice should I impart to her?
She has already seen her time
but the baby in her womb not;
But my religion doesn't know
pity for old, young or sick;
I just follow the orders
of the High Command;
Well, am I supposed to tell
you all this?
A day will come when you will come
to know;
know how I stealthily come
and finish off my prey
in a jiffy;
Go away, little bunny,
your name is not on the list
but,,,,,remember,
keep this meeting with me
confidential
so that no body can figure out
my countenance and composure;
I fly with time and swim in space;
nothing , yes nothing can prevent me
from doing what i am wont to do;
I am a taker as well as a giver
of a life for life
enveloped in a world
beyond this world;
People dread me
call me names
but I may appear to be brutal
but i rid living things from their miseries,
take them to the cove of eternal bliss;
Oh, no, there's no such thing as hell;
That's just a hoax for men
to refrain them from exploiting women
and other fellow men;
Good or bad, all ends up
in eternal life,
a life unseen by you
yet a time of beautiful spring
and summer,
no winters to freeze your heart;
Adious! dear bunny, let us now part
to meet at the destined time
i promise I will be kinder to you
and rid you of your amazement
with the gift of eternal bliss-
the Death.
http://www.playlandstation.com/A-ima...-models/18.jpg
Narrow...Escape, That Is
Such big death hovers over me,
So black it cannot show its face.
I listen, alert, I watch unblinking,
My hair raises, my skin shivers
at the feel of your slinging sickle.
Death missed, death left, death leftover,
Your roots are frozen there
But I can change directions.
ampoule, September Fourth, TwoThousandEight
Yes, it is!
Gonna be a really hard choice. I'm letting non-members read these and help me decide... :D
Where Wanderer's weary way wends,
Widows wail, while wrathful warriors
Wait willingly with wasted wounds.
Wanderer walks winter wasteland;
Woollytail warily watches
Wraithly walker wielding weapon.
Woollytail whispers: what will warm
Wanderer's wintry weapon's wrath,
Ward woolly wretch with witchy wit?
Wanderer winks wryly: we waive
Weird woolgathering whimsies;
Waylaying Woollytail wreaks wry.
Whence we wist, whereas women weep,
Wights whiten worry-wracked with woe,
Woollytails whiffle wittily.
;)
Wonderful poems, yet I think someone still has to capture something about that picture. I am extending the deadline until the 20th.
Keep writing these magnificent lines!
Pen
Game Over! :idea:
The Final Cut:
Andydio:
First one posted, and you hit the one thing I really wanted hit: The Rabbit. All signs of Death are there, winter, the Reaper, cold, etc. But the Rabbit is a sign of life. I liked your poem, I just felt it was a trifle long. I think after the line “and gazed at the cloaked figure” I would have dropped straight to the line: “and the first green of spring”. My taste only, you understand.
Lucidnightmares
I have trouble with untitled poetry for some reason. “Death’s Surprise” might have been a good title. You had me, though, until the rabbit turned out to be a fake… ARRRUAGHHHH!
Il Penseroso
Good title. You missed the rabbit, but it was an excellent description of Death. Great poem!
Barbie
I think it was that meter that threw me here, crest-fallen seemed a forced rhyme. Otherwise I Love the poem.
MahZur
Got the rabbit confronts Death wonderfully! I love the poem except for the “The old ***** is pregnant
and i am quite perplexed” lines.
Lady Amp
You wrote from the Rabbit’s perspective and it was excellent poetry!
Autolycus
Fiendishly fabulous fable fabricated finely, feeling forlorn from first, foreshadowing finale! Fresh form forgoes further felicitations! Freaky!
I have to choose Auto. It must have been very hard to write all in one alphabet letter.
Autolycus may choose next picture. Thanks to all for your participation. I give second and third to Lady Amp and Andydio respectively in every sense of the word.
Love y’all!
Pen :)
Poet proffers plentiful plaudits, Pen! Promises proper penance.
*slaps self*
Thank you very much for the honour!
At this point in time I'm beginning to wonder when the moderators will archive this 40-page thread and start a new one...
*grin*
But until then, I would like to offer this picture, taken by my wingman on a trip to Japan...
http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3182/...b3a44d0f_o.jpg
Deadline will be Oct 24, so that someone else can do something appropriate for Oct 31. :)
Congratulations, Autolycus
Night in Japan
You've missed the essence,
You're missing the point.
Tokyo wasn't built in a day.
How many temples did technology anoint?
Beauty is nurtured here,
Design, held sacred,
Teachers sit as chairmen;
They don't view their models naked,
Without the background
Of their timeworn heritage
Always offering support
In their honouur-bound ventures wrapped in native verbage.
Change I can accept,
But this duplication
Of an unknown culture
Smacks more or less of sublimation.
Why does technology
Overpower everything it meets?
Is it impossible
That these machines could yield to future feats?
Oooh! An excellent start. I feel your pain, alakungfu...
congrats, Alycus!
Pen! Thank you so much for your kind words and tie for second place. I had missed the bunny at first look and things that are going on in my life made me look away. But on second look when I saw the wee bunny I was flooded with a certain brave warmth.
A hardy congratulations to you autolycus and I look forward to pondering your picture.
congratulations auto!
Love by Chance
Flagged down a cab outside my dingy hotel.
Went looking for the one I had come to meet.
Out the foggy window I saw her talking on her cell
Umbrella protecting her from getting wet feet.
I asked the cabbie just to drive down slow,
And I watched and wished her bright smile was for me.
But the time was running out and I had to go,
The clock doesn’t wait for anyone you see.
All through my boring meeting I thought about her.
Did she have a boyfriend? What did she think of white men?
I drove back hopefully have the chance to speak to her,
But the corner was as empty as my dreams and plans.
Lovely lady, you caught my eyes and heart for a moment in time.
Could you give them back to me, I think they’re mine…
Pendragon
© September 23, 2008
Hey, plenty of time... already a brace of good poems... 16 days or so more...
Don't think I said it before but congratulations auto, and nice picture. Japanese women are so lovely.