Subject Poetry Contest.

I'll post the following poem about Diana by Ben Jonson (from Cynthia's Revels, just to provide us
with something to compare our efforts to:

Hymn to Diana

Queen and huntress, chaste and fair,
Now the sun is laid to sleep,
Seated in thy silver chair
State in wonted manner keep:
Hesperus entreats thy light,
Goddess excellently bright.

Earth, let not thy envious shade
Dare itself to interpose;
Cynthia's shining orb was made
Heaven to clear, when day did close;
Bless us then with wished sight,
Goddess excellently bright.

Lay thy bow of pearl apart,
And thy crystal shining quiver;
Give unto the flying hart
Space to breathe, how short soever,
Thou that mak'st a day of night,
Goddess excellently bright.

Riotous at Ephesus (ref: KJV - Acts 19: 23-41)

Cyrus the Great of old might have given
pause, noting the manicured Temple grounds -
spacious lawns; robed women clothed in white,
men robed in black assembled before the theater
Who would ever grasp the Grecian mind ?

Paulus overshadows all that is Ephesus
It is he whom Demetrius derides -
incites the assemblage to chant as a mob
"Great is Diana of the Ephesians!"
two hours towards the downhearted
disciples; Paulus' discourse is stayed

Perhaps Paulus turns in reflection: It's a
Pyrrhic victory, o' Demetrius, albeit rashly won
How much more is silver than salvation
thrice hypocrite? HIS righteousness is near


9/2/2013 r.9/3/2013 r.9/4/2013iv (tyM!) r.9/5/2013

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

It looks like the time is up. Thank you for the entries!

Pendragon: I understand Diana can be hostile to those finding her in the forest. It's a good thing it was only a dream.

Dark Muse: The first stanza had her sacrifice her heart for her freedom, however, the last stanza showed that she did not sacrifice her compassion.

prendrelemick: I liked the chase idea connecting the Goddess and the Princess. I hadn't thought of that, and now that is how I see them both.

Melanie: This was the first time I heard of the Diana primates and I hope extinction is not near for them.

tailor STATELY: A nice approach to Diana from the position of a conflict between Demetrius and Paul. Demetrius using the crowd against Paul makes me think he deserved to lose.

And, thanks, Nick Capozzoli for the Ben Jonson poem. It is good to see what others have done with the theme.

I liked all of them. I am amazed at how different they were.

The winner is Dark Muse.

The idea of sacrificing one's heart without losing one's compassion stands out for me.

Congratulations Dark Muse!! That line stood out for me too...nicely done.

It was an interesting subject YesNo. The entries were all great!

Thank you very much.

I will have the next subject soon

Congratulations Dark Muse !

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

Ok, next subject is Echo

Deadline Oct. 15

Echoes From the Edge: Dementia

Haunting echoes everywhere…
No! Please stop! Stop it!
For God’s sake go ‘way!
No, please, oh God! Can’t take it!
Make it stop!
Can’t stand it anymore!
Images, haunting images. Faces. FACES!
Make ‘em go ‘way!
No! Stop! No more of your gibbering, echoing voices!
Lemme ‘lone, oh God! Lemme ‘lone!
The room is spinning—the air echoes pain
I didn’t do it, I tell ya! It wasn’t me!
Haunt me no more, I swear I didn’t do it!
The echoes tell lies! The echoes tell lies, damn it!
Oh God, where do these things come from?
VOICES! ECHOING VOICES!
Get out! Out, or by God, I’ll kill you!
Please, just lemme ‘lone? Please?
Dear God, what’s all this red stuff? Ketch-ketch-ketchup?
I think I’m gonna be sick…
I want my mommy.
Please?
Mommy, where are you?

Pendragon








If this one disturbs you, it is intended to. I knew a friend who was schizophrenic. He never harmed anyone that I know of, but he fully thought he had murdered someone, and the voices in his head finally took him to suicide. This one is a trip into his mind. In pace, requiescant. Silentio consolationem vestram, big guy. You were a bit different, but had a golden heart.

it echos
the silence
when you listen
to it
it lances
up and down
and bounces.
to the sound it's a trance
silent is but ounced.

Oblivion and Bliss,
They intertwine and kiss.
She weeps into his empty heart
That echoes nothing as they part
But loneliness.

Tonight some other takes her place.
Oblivion forgets her face.
She'd save his heart, but he had none.
He whines like an abandoned one
With each caress.

Bump!

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Dark Muse

Ok, next subject is Echo. Deadline Oct. 15

---

Echo Of A Distant Song

abstract fragments of life
in chromatic harmony
call to me from distant shores
on melodic memories

amplitude breathes life
into musical passages
of richness and complexity
in patterns of passion

from the east to the west
a flute's vibrations on air
soft rhythm of a distant drum
echoes a language of love

Echo

Everything you shout, out out
I will turn about, out out
Reflections of the Earth, Earth Earth
A stutter in reverse.

verse

verse

The Echo Chamber

Bathed in her pixilated glow, the Candy Crusher sits.
Half asleep I contemplate, twenty years of wedded blitz.
While counting my sheep jumping, merrily over fences,
the queen’s nagging barrage, suddenly commences:
“Did you take the trash out?”
Did I take the trash out?
“Go down and get me Klondike bar”
I go down and fetch her Klondike bar
“Go sleep in the guest room, you’re beginning to stink”
Ahhh, only one voice in the guest room, now where was I?...51 I think.

Ok this one was almost impossible to judge. All these poems were great, and I loved each one of them. But nonetheless a winner had to be choosen, but each of these poems were deserving of winning.


cacian

A very powerful poem. I loved the way in which you were able to capture the feeling of silence, and the sound of an echo within words.

YesNo

A stunning poem, I really enjoyed the way in which you interpreted the subject. Very moving and sad, and quite beautiful.

Melanie

This is truly a wonderful work. Such beautiful and elegant imagery. It captured the essence of sound very well. There were some fantastic lines within this poem.

prendrelemick

Very clever. I thought it was great the way in which you actually incorporated the echo effect within the verse.

Gilliatt Gurgle

Quite a humorous take upon the subject. I enjoyed the originality of the idea. I thought it was a fun poem, and enjoyed reading.

And the winner is....


Pendragon

You know I love this one! It is indeed quite disturbering, deliciously so. I very much enjoyed the haunting journey into madness which this poem lead me into. It had a very Poe like feel to it.

Dark Muse thank you.
Pendragon congratulations !!!

Sorry I'm late with this acceptance of the win, thanks Dark Muse. My mother broke her hip and is in the hospital with bed sores and dementia. Prayers, well wishes, and moments of silence appreciated. Thanks in advance.

Let's make the next subject: Graveyards, deadline November 1st, All Hallows Day!

Grave Angel

My heart begins to decompose
at the altar of my stone angel,
coldly he watches without a sound,
no warmth to offer, nor smile to give,
and his eyes are accusing condemnation.

By piecemeal I decompose,
as the Autumnal leaves
that whorl around my feet,
among the dying flowers once
left behind by the well meaning,
leaving their fragile transient gifts
for their own fugacious memory.

Parts of me are swept away
within this disintegrating foliage,
and slowly I am sinking down
to rejoin the earth yawning at my feet,
it is the indifference of my angel in stone,
my grave guardian that draws my life away.

Perhaps echoes of my presence will remain,
diffused through this graveyard, where my heart
was first buried, where my soul was first stolen,
it is my curse that even as nothing else is left of me,
I will be denied the endless sleep
and remain bound haunting this hallowed ground
where he perpetually remains indifferent
to my plight.

The moon was watching overhead
Providing us some light.
We came to satirize the dead,
Spray-paint their gravestones bright.

We knew nobody followed us.
We've done this every year.
Those graves are old. Who'd make a fuss?
We're young and had no fear.

Before we marked each stone we read
The name and dates thereon.
We rushed among the ancient dead
And sprayed them and were gone.

At last we saw an open grave
And tombstone on the ground.
We read our names. A quick breeze gave
A freakish, laughing sound.

Was someone messing with our minds?
Had we at last got caught?
We didn't wait. Our young behinds
Went running at the thought.

When morning came we had to see
That new made grave again.
It wasn't there, no trace, nowhere.
We let the graveyard win.

Dawn Shields .
born. June 19th 1964
found March 8th 1968

Up in the Graveyard plying our trade,
We fence in all weathers till the fence it is made,
We swing our steel hammers banging in nails,
driving in posts and chainsawing rails,
We're rough and we're tough - or act like we are,
Laughing too loudly, our language is raw.

That's where I found little Dawn's grave ,
And remembered the child no one could save,
There by my feet she was laid in the ground,
No death was recorded, just when she was found,
I felt a cold shudder go up through my spine,
I was transported back to when I was nine,
I remembered my dad seaching with others,
Remembered the tears on the face of her brothers,
Remembered her picture grainy and blurred,
The newspaper headlines shouting the word,
She was three, she was pretty, with blonde curly hair,
Her mum turned her back, she was no longer there,
A moment's distraction, so heavy the price,
She was in the canal under the ice,
Nothing to do but wait for the thaw,
She was found in the spring 10 yards from her door.

I told her sad story to some of the lads,
It went very quiet - most of us were dads,
And looking at gravestones, rows upon rows,
We began to remember what every man knows,
Each grave held a story that ended in death,
As our's would end too at our last mortal breath,
The rest of the day we worked quietly on,
Shouting and swearing suddenly seemed wrong.

A Menu To Die For

Welcome to the Graveyard Tavern
A smoky den for shady patrons.
Order a Gravedigger Burger and Brew
With Zombie Sauce and Barbecue.

Buffalo Bones marinated in bitters
And a lethal dose of Ghost Chili Peppers.
Laughter, madness, mischief, and curses
Beware, the taxis outside are hearses!

And time! Put down your mouse and laptop!

DarkMuse Great start, one of my favorite songs is "Concrete Angel", dark and mysterious as usual!

YesNo. If you do not know what a "death fetch" is, look it up. A chilling, slightly humorous dealing with precognition of death.

prendrelemick A sad little poem that brings tears to the eyes. Haunting!

Melanie I enjoyed this light-hearted look at the subject, turning the "Graveyard" into a pub!



But one winner: (Drumroll. please)


prendrelemick Beautiful poetry, and quite delightful!

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Pendragon

And time! Put down your mouse and laptop!

DarkMuse Great start, one of my favorite songs is "Concrete Angel", dark and mysterious as usual!

---

Concrete Angel is one of my boyfriend's favorite songs.

Congrats prendrelemick

Well done my friend. Congrats
Nice contributions from all.

prendrelemick, I was so touched by your poem and your delivery was masterful. I liked the personal touch.

Thanks. There's no doubt about it - real experiences make better poetry.



Next subject is A Window- metaphorical, actual, symbolic, the view through it or whatever.

As seen in Catalogue

The eye on the division
of outside and in
The narrator of both worlds
with a sill for a chin
Within hours and angles
perceptions will change
both sun-room and streetlight
stories are framed
The sun gives permission
of how much to hint
the beholder's reflection
and how ghostly a tint
Without preference or opinion
be it open or closed
Just don't be complacent
when there's kids with a hose

THE WINDOW

Every evening it is the same:
Pad, pad, pad, pad—
back and forth in front of the window
of his upstairs study.
I ask him what he thinks he’s doing.
“Looking for your mother!” he replies somewhat testily.
“Dad”, I remind him gently,
“Mom’s been dead for nearly five years.”
His reply is just an explosive bark.
Pad, pad, pad, pad.
That night, dad dies in his sleep.
After the funeral, I return to the house
to tidy up a few loose ends.
As I enter the upstairs study,
I hear a sickeningly familiar sound:
Pad, pad, pad, pad.
My God! Will he never be at rest?

Pendagon

Advice is freely offered me
On why to change my hard-won ways.
Some think they see what I can't see
And jabber on and on for days.

It's safe inside. I like the night.
Well-wishers praise a window for
The way it lets in air and light.
Tomorrow, they'll suggest a door.

Visiting Hours

I watch you from behind the glass,
so close, and yet achingly out of reach,
and all I wish is to touch you,
but these barriers remain between us,
unbreakable, but they cannot sever
the connection we share,
we can feel each other standing on separate sides,
but still untied, and while the world
continues to bustle past around us,
I find myself alone but for you,
and I feel the weight of my helplessness
you know I would do anything to take away
your pain, to take you away from this place,
but now all I can do is watch, and wait,
and know you know that I am here.

it slams
and close
opens and pose
fresh air is froze
when winter blows
but rain infers through
pane it throws.
window to hope
is light to rose
weather permit
it lures
the sun to merse
and derse
against the glass
the frame it likes.

Some really great poetry coming out this round! Enjoying the different approaches very much :)

what is the deadline prendrelemick?:)

eerm shall we say a week...ish

Ok, first things first, DARK MUSE is the winner. Sometimes her stuff is too plain for me -I like a bit of flowery poesy- but this was spot on. The matter of fact language enhanced the strong emotional content. Lines like ;-

we can feel each other standing on separate sides,
but still untied, and while the world
continues to bustle past around us,

were the clincher for me. (should that be united?)

Pendragon once again had a strong entry, good penmanship as usual, but not as emotionally moving as the above- inspite of the subject.

Slipee was going to be the winner when I first read it, because of the unusual approach - having the window itself -its abilities and foibles -as the subject was clever, but just pipped by dark muse this time.

Yesno went a little beyond my comprehension, I think I got her angle after a few re-reads - I like the way her mind works.

cacian went way beyond my comprehension, but I understand that her poetry is about sounds and shapes rather than comprehension and I like the way she sticks to what she wants to do.


Congratulations Dark Muse.

prendrelemick thank you.
Congratulations Dark Muse,

Thank you very much, I will think up a good new subject soon

Next Subject is Hearth/Fireplace

Deadline Dec. 1

The center of the home, the hearth,
Is warm though hearts don't care
And let their mouths slip into rage
To bother loved ones there.

Fuel poverty

Sitting by the hearth,
The cat and me,
Both lost in silent reverie.

Both thinking,
It would be better on the whole,
If we could afford some coal.