Petrarch's Love, yours too is wonderful. I should have been reading these. I've missed a lot by not doing so.
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Petrarch's Love, yours too is wonderful. I should have been reading these. I've missed a lot by not doing so.
I read my fellow contest entries and I think, Wow! We all see the same picture and yet it sparks a different memory all of which can be seen relected in the picture. Somehow I don't think Sy could have chosen a more perfect picture. When the contest is over, I'd like to see all the poems and the picture posted in one place. It would be like a mini-chapbook of LitNet Poetry!
Wow, my friends!
Pen
http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...Four/DaMan.gif
Thats an idea, Pen! :nod:
:eek: And wow fire, I've never seen you enter any of these contests before this! Well, join the little party! :p
Ahem...
I was just going through all the entries... 'wow'-ing at them... when I remembered that its got to be me who picks one of them as the best!!
After a long long time I'm feeling nervous.
Give me, O Lord,
pleasures, of beholding
excellence, through my athirst eyes.
But,
Save me, O Lord,
from dangling amongst
choices in excellence!
12 entries so far, all good ones.
*cough* This is going to be tough.
I sympathize with you Symph!! All of the entries are very good this time round...It's obviously going to be hard for you to pick a winner from all of the entries so far, and whichever are entered between now and November 1!
Good Luck!
Because the eyes were hidden,
the rest of them exudes of him.
Any passerby knows nothing
of the beast in them. The ones
who lay down with the dog
are the ones who lay down for
the warmth, the heat of bodies
gone cold.
And the participant: the one
knowingly of the beast in him.
The one who takes note of the dog
is the one who sings to the heaven
is the one who takes hold of the blanket
and makes the heavenly connection.
Looks like we dont need to extend the time on this one. So it is then, November 1.
2 days left. 13 entries submitted. Anyone who feels like there should be more entries are most welcome to post theirs. :)
Wow, this might be the best turn out we've ever had. Great going everyone. :thumbs_up
Before they raised us to Godhood
They were a humble folk, the Staff.
They came in many forms of good,
They fed Us often, made Us laugh.
They were a metal people; though
Prone to the rather grandiose
We respect skill (but even so,
We do prefer the cellulose).
Unfortunately, they left Us
In a time of richest blessing;
The alleys overflowed glorious
And We much enjoyed the messing.
This exhibit is cellulose:
A cryptic altarpiece We found,
Survived the Godhood-making dose
That raised Us radiant from the ground.
We interpret by context here,
Three members of the Staff We see:
The prone one a Producer dear,
Giver of all variety;
Against his fecal end is shown
The parasite at every feast,
A violent fiend and quite well-known
To Our parents in the East.
Upon his rump another one,
A stealer of the tiny crumb,
The terror from the skies, now gone,
And fortunately rather dumb.
This icon means a thing profound:
Note the implements to one side
Placed lovingly upon the ground,
Away from pest and parasite.
It shows the Staff-Producer's might,
Provision to the People then,
Reserved against the final Light
For they would leave Us who-knows-when.
Their wisdom left Us this to find,
That We might know their saving grace.
See how the blanket spurns the kind
That took the food before Our face!
It blocks the keeper of the flea,
And pest with wings that used to be.
And thus We know Our destiny:
The Staff-Producer's People We!
Thinking along the same lines, Virgil. :)Quote:
Wow, this might be the best turn out we've ever had. Great going everyone.
Makes me feel nervous though. I'm just hoping i'll be able to give a fare assessment! *gulp*
*waits patiently...figits* Can't wait for the results! There are soooo many good entries!
yeah i'm having a tough time here!
And finally, the reviews and results! :D
First let me say I’m fascinated by the diverse, and yet distinct, perspectives roused by this picture. Knowing the original context of this painting myself, I’m totally awed by how all these entries were totally different and yet perfect in their own ways! This painting by Zainul Abedin, was based on the Great Bengal Famine of 1943. I never could see it in a different context, it always meant that famine for me. Thanks to all the Lit-Net masterminds for opening up my eyes! :) All of you were great, just great! :thumbs_up
Here are my reviews on each entry:
To NickAdams:
The first 3 lines in this poem are, in my opinion, the best. Plus I really liked the repetitive pronunciations that one goes through, though each word has a different meaning. :) I enjoyed reading this. :thumbs_upQuote:
Perched fowl, guard of this blanked rest.
What of our weather'd tenant, who dines on a pavement blessed?
Worn sole ... worn soul ... poor so-!
To Pendragon:
I loved the theme in yours. Diogenes goes with the picture perfectly! And I’m glad that your “eyes could really see” that. :DQuote:
He had very little in this life beyond his lantern, his blanket, and his dog—
But inside the beggar’s clothing lived one whose eyes could really see
While all the world around him moved as if their very minds were in a fog…
One thing though- I thought that around the last stanza the lines became too prose-like, which was a bit unexpected after the poetical flow during the first 3 stanzas. However, I also liked the story-telling touch in it, along with the last optimistic verse.
To BrowneyedBailey:
What a cute little poem. :) I look forward to more of these little verses from this little gem. :) :thumbs_upQuote:
Sleeping in the feild.
Come, come.
A story to tell.
Share with family,
Share with friends.
Good-bye.
To thefifthelement:
I haven’t read much of his works, but judging it by the ones I have, this poem pretty much sums Bukowsky up. What amazed me most is, though you were speaking in his style, your original tone wasn’t lost in this. The highlighted bit was my favorite part in this poem. The tone of irony stands out in here. :thumbs_upQuote:
and I
drink
to the
future.
To AdoreroDio:
A very nice parody of The Raven. :thumbs_up And like fifth’s poem, yours too held the originality in it. I particularly liked the last stanza. And it’s great too that this pic made you think of The Raven.Quote:
And the raven, never moving , still is sitting, still is sitting
Next to my dog upon that small piece of the hot street’s floor;
And his eyes have that look so steaming of a demon's that is dreaming,
To MarileeRixon:
The 1st stanza stands alone as a poem itself. The 2nd stanza has strong imagery in it. The last line of the poem gave me shivers! All the expressions are very vivid. Well done. :)Quote:
For she is guardian of
The blanket covered mass
That was once her friend.
To Dante Wodehouse:
I think you meant “wither” in the 1st line? However, this is yet another perspective that left me awed. And you’ve put the woe of the ignored-- the dismissed, the put-aside-- so vividly, it felt like you’re pointing sharply at our very conscience. :thumbs_upQuote:
The gutter hosts a man’s promenade
Nervously pawing the Bridge, yet in scope.
To Schadenfreude:
Yours is an excellent poem! I read it out loud a few times and it sounded great too. I liked the monologue tone in this where you’ve contrasted nature with the thoughts going on in your mind. I’d switch positions of the 3rd and the penultimate stanza if I were you, but it still stands out the way it is. The last 2 lines of both 4th and 5th stanza are very telling. :thumbs_upQuote:
Thoughts are never content with what the soul requires
Birds don’t fly, they only run.
To littlewing:
First I was disappointed on the lack of punctuations and those torn-looking fragments since I don’t get poems like these most of the times. But as I started reading it, the abstract flow and the strong fragmental truths awed me and hooked me in. I particularly loved the highlighted lines. Very well done. :thumbs_upQuote:
oh weary days
written on wrinkled
empty faces
To Virgil:
Loved the way you started with the mechanical city life and ended up recollecting the boisterous country life. Somehow it made me think of that Toby Keith song – “Whiskey for my men, beer for my horses” :p . The “tuna fish cans jogging” gave me a hearty laugh. :lol:Quote:
The snooty unbeknownst
Send me to the valley’s river, to hidden streams,
A preacher in the midst of fraught motorcars.
To Petrarch’s Love:
I’m awed, Petrarch! This is so touching. The occasional rhyming, the rhythm throughout, the closing stanza with the one-liner footnote- all add to this wonderful poem. And the flow that you maintained throughout the whole poem is mesmerizing. Keeps the reader going with it. And let me say: “Encore! Again, again!” :DQuote:
To those harsh notes comes reply:
“Encore! Again, again!”
Lips gently parted.
Hunger sated.
To firefangled:
No wonder I called u a hero. :p Look what you’ve done! This is marvelous, fire, and I particularly liked the last 2 lines, very moving, and vivid. Though I thought the bit where you say “once I was an engineer” was a bit too explanatory, I don’t think you need the word “engineer”. While it adds clarity, I don’t think it goes with the strength that holds the opening and closing stanzas together. A little obscurity could work better, like it did in the 1st stanza. But anyway it’s just a word and it’s just me. ;)Quote:
listen to your footsteps, fast and slow, sometimes,
hesitating, hoping it is you, who knew me once.
To ktd222:
I don’t know if the meaning’s too obvious- but I didn’t quite relate to what you meant by using the word “exudes” in the 2nd line. Forgive me for being so stupid. :(Quote:
is the one who takes hold of the blanket
and makes the heavenly connection.
The last stanza with the ‘heavenly connection’ was, in my opinion, brilliant. It stands in contrast to the rest of the poem and works well as a conclusion. :thumbs_up
To autolycus:
Clever and humorous! I had trouble understanding it at first... to be honest even now I don’t understand most of the poem from the 4th stanza! My bad. :(Quote:
We interpret by context here,
Three members of the Staff We see:
The prone one a Producer dear,
Giver of all variety;