Thanks to everyone who entered a poem. The judging will be finished, and the winner up by Tomorrow. Great poetry mes amis. Tough job for the poor judge! http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...heComputer.gif
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Thanks to everyone who entered a poem. The judging will be finished, and the winner up by Tomorrow. Great poetry mes amis. Tough job for the poor judge! http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...heComputer.gif
The Picture Poetry Contest Results
The Silent X:
I liked your imagery, and you definitely captured the spirit of the picture. This was my favorite part of your poem:
Showing that different birds a specialized for life in different environments, some a nocturnal, some day, some hunters, some waterfowl; yet most have one thing in common: they soar the skies. Well written, nicely flowing poem.Quote:
To the owl goes the night,
Royal swans, the lakeshore buy,
Eagle, woodland, his noble right,
For my realm, I choose the sky.
Symphony:
Again, wonderful imagery, though I was a bit mystified by these lines:
The figure in the painting is obviously male. Yet the rest of the poem flows well and captures the picture’s spirit well enough to overlook that interpretation. Like, X, you show the differences between the birds. I like it.Quote:
Finally, she gave way,
Leaving behind
No chance to convey
Impedance of any kind.
And there they arose,
The birds from her heart,
With a hurtling force
They’ve never learnt to exert.
Jolly McJollso
It is a nice little poem, which I believe you are using as a metaphor for freedom—certainly in the picture, the central figure is releasing the birds, setting them free. Taking off the wedding ring sets Grey Suit free. A strange relation, but a relation.Quote:
Grey suit with a red, pocket handkerchief
on the ledge of a window
takes off his wedding ring.
Triskle
I thought your poem very good. These lines I especially liked:
Your poem was a beautiful work of art. One thing you need to watch out for is misspelled words. When you submit poetry, as I have for publication, they rip spelling and publication apart!Quote:
molded and twisted with the love of artist
though a blind eye was turned to the sun
the cold shoulder saw and threw forth an arm
that which hardens as a pair, a clay and earth couple
wings launching them skyward, an Icharus freedom
Kandaurov
A simple, beautiful poem. I liked this section best, I think.
The name of this picture is “Creation of the Birds”, very obviously from the standpoint of Native American beliefs. The “Great Spirit” releases the birds as He makes them. You have them singing praises back to Him. Nice.Quote:
And sing songs of longing and praise?
It is to Him, who sows and reaps.
Their lovely throats, their keen eyes,
Their fledging, fluttering, freeing wings,
All are his gifts to them.
Vhaney
Your poem is short, but it manages to say a lot about the picture. You give the Great Spirit credit not just for the release of the birds, but everything. Very nice.Quote:
Great spirit of the sky
Releasing all I know
May I glimpse with single eye
A truth from you that flows
With wisdom in my hand
I trek the mountains height
To wander to my land
Where my spirit takes it's flight
Dante Wodehouse
I like the way you are not afraid to take chances with a new form. That is a must for any serious poet. Don’t become bound by the form, or let the form rule you. Write from the soul.
That line is my favorite. I have the same warning for you as for Triskle—watch your spelling!Quote:
And from His hands came the glory of the sky;
For the winds were barren and the clouds unknown.
Bidding them onward, he tossed them awry
So perfect were they, stable in that cyclone.
Niamh:
A poem that catches the spirit of The Native American people, though I am not certain it catches the picture’s meaning..
My people, the Cherokee, marched the Trail of Tears, some of the bravest returned and retook some of our land here in these mountains and still hold it. To Native American’s the Ancestors are important. It’s a great poem, does it catch the meaning of the art? That is what I’m gonna have to think about.Quote:
The wind did whisper and shook the trees,
The words were carried slowly on the breeze.
"Go." It spoke. "don’t falter here to long.
For soon everything will all be gone."
AdoreroDio
“In This Blood”: I had hoped that someone would notice, and you came the closest. There are the mighty birds of prey rising from The Great Spirit’s hand, but there is a tiny hummingbird there as well, showing that it is as important.
You wrote these words about the sparrow, another tiny bird. Fantastic.Quote:
In this blood
is the humbleness of the sparrow,
simple and lowly,
but fast and intelligent.
Adolescent09
‘Dole, you saw in the picture the story of the Redman’s plight.
The tale is certainly on of infamy, I suggest the novel Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee, which is not for the faint of heart. Few full blood Native Americans remain in the USA, compared to the population. Very nice poem.Quote:
How implacably he twines those rods of gold,
Fettering the past oblivious to future,
From sapling young to proverbial old,
the many wings tell a tale of infamy---
Autolycus
I really am not sure that this picture lends itself to your unique style of poetry.
Littlewing53Quote:
The light is blinding and the grace profound
And if we listen hard we hear the sound
Of angel voices circling all around
A frequency so high that we are moved
This is the Photoelectric Effect.
A very nice, well-written, well-flowing poem. And it is fully charged with meaning..
I like that line: “painted with absent hesitation”. Like the Great Spirit could see the whole of the color spectrum and had a very hard time choosing, and yet knew all along what colors they should be. Wonderful!Quote:
finely designed feathers
adorn his many friends
painted with absent hesitation
fashioned by a brush
Motherhubbard
Your only fault was that your poem was so short. It is beautiful, and I felt that was much more you might have said, and said very well.
I love that starting quatrain. It is my own idea of creation. That the creator would have had so much fun dreaming up the creatures and then making them and coloring them. Think about it for a second, guys. You have been given clay, and anything you make will be alive and be able to move once complete. What would you create, and what colors would you use?Quote:
Perched among the lofty clouds
He crafts the images from his dreams
Giving his secret thoughts flight
And his noble creation wings
Petra
A poet like yourself is hard to judge. A tradition of Native American people that could have inspired this picture was your choice: The Storyteller.
It is a part of every Powwow, the storytelling, and the traditional dances that tell stories. They are told in the evening around the council fires. How easily the children can imagine they see the images in the sky. Great interpetation.Quote:
And now he sits in that time
Of pregnant silence when the beat
Has slowed and stilled in the drums and,
Wrapped in the feathers that are
As much a part of him as a part of the eagle,
He gazes outward, but looks inward.
Grandchildren gather, afraid of the distant coming thunder,
Gather to hear as the breath from his lips forms a steady wind
And his gesturing hands create a host of wonders
And his tales of the many birds begin
Il Penseroso
Do not think because your poem got in just under the deadline that it is not worthy of attention. You caught another point I hoped someone would catch:
That pattern made by the other birds; not the ones that erupt from his hand, stands out for me in that picture. You seemed to focus on it as well. Well done.Quote:
At each stage of soaring
a lens is built to shear the air,
the glass refraction of an eye
clears raw pulsing clouds,
and shapeless a storm of air
bent by flapping wings
traces fleeting symbols
in lines across the sky.
After all is said and done, you know there can only be one. I must think carefully about this.
My choice is: AdoreroDio
The line with the sparrow captured it for me. I fully expected everyone to focus on those eagles, owls, swans, etc. and miss the smaller birds, the brilliant red cardinal, the tiny hummingbird, the fat sparrow. AndyDio did not overlook the small bird. Congratulations. With The Great Spirit, even the small is great.
Well done poets, one and all! http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...ies/Soccar.gif
http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...lies/Judge.gif
Congratulations AdoreroDio!!:thumbs_up A very nice poem. I look forward to your picture, so I can get back into this. :)
Well done, AdoreroDio. I think I would have chosen yours too. Great use of the repetition at the start of each stanza and, as Pen says, I liked the way you covered all the birds both great and small. Really captured the spirit of the picture.
Looking forward to the next pic. :)
Thats what i meant by that post, Pen. :D I noticed too late that I havent even given the guy a closer look, kept looking at the birds all the time hehe. Anyway, thanks for ur kind comments on all of us.Quote:
Originally Posted by symphony
And CONGRATULATIONS to Adorerodio! :D Looking forward to the next picture by you.
way to go AdoreroDio, you did a fantastic job!
Actually, he's about to commit suicide by jumping off a building ledge. He's creating a bird by attempting to fly for a little while. We can assume his wife probably cheated on him or something, since he takes off the ring.Quote:
Originally Posted by Pendragon
Also, congrats to AdoreroDio!
Congratulations, AdoreroDio! Fine detailing there...
Congratulations Adorerodio!
congrats adorerodio, awesome beautiful poem....i enjoyed reading everyone's poems and thanks pen for the time you took to respond with your comments to our poems...it gives courage to those of us to continue on in our endeavor to write our thoughts on little pieces of paper in secret...
Thanks everyone! I'll post a pic in a few minutes when I find a great one....
Thanks again!
Hey guys,
Ok, so I was really unsure of what picture I wanted to post. I at first was going to do a picture of something I loved like galloping horse or a road that looked like it had no end but I figured that would not stretch a poets mind- then I wanted to post an abstract picture- something that could have a million different views....after searching and searching plus a little arguing with myself I decided on this picture...it's defiantly not abstract but still can have many different views of it.I hope you enjoy and good luck, I can't wait to read your poems!
http://i185.photobucket.com/albums/x...dio/Books-.jpg
Terrrific picture choice AdoreroDio, and a hearty congrats on your first time winning in a poetry contest :D. I look forward to doing this image more justice on a rhythmic level than my last effort had to offer.
Good luck everyone else!
Amazing pic. AdoreroDio. Should be interesting to write on, though my first association was that Twilight Zone episode with the man who survives as the last person on earth, and he's in front of the ruins of the library with the books scattered everywhere on the steps, and his glasses...:bawling: well, I don't want to spoil it if you haven't seen the episode, but maybe you know the one I mean. Anyway, enough rambling, and off to think up a poem. :idea:
Well......guys about em judging the poetry......uhmmmmmm how can I say this.....
Well I am starting a fast before going to El Salvador this summer with the rest of my team and one of the things I'm fasting is the compy unless for school and this starts on Friday and lasts forty days......which means I won't be on here. I'm really sorry.
Pendragon could you judge for me? I think that you will judge most like I would. I really appreciate it. I really wish I could be on here because it is my first time winning...but God goes before everything in my life.
Sorry again! God Bless. I'll be on tomorrow for prolly the last time until August.
Great pic Adoredio, reflective. :) Hope to be able to write something on it, and look forward to seeing u among us again as soon as ur back, we'll all miss u. God bless u. Take care. :thumbs_up
Will do. Anything for such a worthy cause. As such, I will not submit a poem for this competition. Be praying for you AndyDio. God Bless.Quote:
Originally Posted by AdoreroDio
Pen.
http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...asterCross.gif
Thank you very much Pen this means a lot. Good luck everyone in writing your poems! See you in August or whenever I get back on....
Good luck with your fasting and pilgrimage, AdoreroDio, and we'll look forward to seeing you again when you return.
I am going to set the date for last entry (provided I get a first one!) on the 7th of July. The results will post by the 9th. AndyDio has a great pic here, and I feel overwhelmed to be chosen as guest judge. So sent in the poems! That picture again is:
http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...ane/Books-.jpg
Without poems, there can be no contest. That would be a sad tribute to AndyDio while on his (oops!) mission of mercy... http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...ilies/ISNF.gif
It feels like I have missed so much in the poetry community here! I will try my best to come up with something for that amazing photo. Good luck to AndyDio on his journey!
Time Running Out
Where have all the poets gone?
Time is swiftly passing...
Where have all the poets gone?
Time will not run slow...
Where have all the poets gone,
I need some verses for this contest
Come and write a line of two
About the books stacked up high won't you?
When will people ever learn
Books are to read and not to burn?
Will they ever learn...
Pendragon
© 6/11/07
dear mr pen....my mind and heart with pen in hand have been contemplating, considering and reflecting on this mighty photo...soon...soon...we shall bring forth our thoughts....isnt the deadline end of july or is it june?
finals this week, not much coming from the creative side of the brain right now
Well, I wanted the 7th of July, but having no poems as of yet, I must set it up until July 28th, firm. Judging will be up on July 31st.Quote:
Originally Posted by littlewing53
Pen
http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1.../PuppyLove.gif
Tornado
Stillness is a melancholy comfort
Gone is the baby blue sofa and Sunday afternoon
a swirl of faded madness left me dizzy, waiting for you in the cold
Longing for your arms in wind chill
Left standing in a second-hand stand in Brooklyn
It was in your eyes I was alive, so real until that fatalist resolution whereupon so many problems
arose.
Left here torn, pale except for a bleak yellow complexion
Only these passing breezes flip my pages with swiftness not unlike your impatient touch
Upon being picked up again, I did not forget you
I leafed through my head
Only discovering we were
Blown away
All right, Drama! http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...es/GotGame.gif We are finally started! Offically the Picture Poetry Contest of AndyDio has begun!
Pen
http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1.../PuppyLove.gif
In black and white
envision the babble of open books
a clamor of commotion
a symphony of words
a concert of thoughts pressing to be heard
the untouched book is eager
full of anticipation
trusting the orchestra of words arrival
pages upon pages fluttering
excited by the measure of letters
the composers hold back
each book posed to speak in turn
words caught up in a breeze
in the drift of a wind
letters in movement told in parts
each page filled line by line
evolving at a disconnected pace
emerging in a dance of letters
the conductor taps his wand
words finely tuned begin to align
so begins a rehearsal of expression
a harmony of silent words
the pitch, the key exchange places
unable to decide and carelessly unyielding
the books stay in refusal to order
nevertheless....patiently
the words begin to flow
without interruption
the music begins to play
the words are formed
sentences begin to erupt
chapters formed in collection
the conductor’s hand is stilled
silence breaks out
and...another book is read
...geez, unusually long...but once it starts how does one stop!!!..:D
The Reaper
The reaper is coming,
Can you hear his breath?
The sound of a thousand pages turning.
In his hand he holds death,
And in yours, you hold nothing.
The reaper is coming,
Your authors have asked it
He is coming to destroy you
You who looted the libraries on whim
And who avoid books like puss.
The reaper is coming,
For the looters of the sacred,
Those who stole the gold,
And made the books burn bright red,
Every work, new and old.
The reaper is coming
To separate the chaff,
Those who left the words a flying in the elements
You who tear the books while you laugh
You who throw aside your literary precedents
The reaper is coming,
Can you feel the chill wind it brings?
It may come on quietly,
Like an assassin with wings,
Or it may come in a flurry
The reaper is coming,
To burn you who burn the literates
Who spat and tore and ripped the words
Who tortured the ones with wits
Who rejected those singing pen-bards
The reaper is here,
But there are those who don’t know,
Those that can’t see.
That they don’t know
The reaper is me.
Squares,Circles,Angles
Geometry, math, science
Life , God, Universe
What?!, you ask how do they relate
Why my friend, that is the language of God!
And by this language the universe is what he came to create.
What?! you dare defy this fact!
How do you think you came to be!
Not only you but:
Me
He and
She
Aha!, but of course, it is obvious why you are blind
You are blinded by those from this fact
They influence you in your thoughts!
and the way you act!
But do not worry my friend!,
for soon you will see.
When you go into the eternal slumber
You will see the truth!, of this fact that was said by me
When you take that one step, that will happen to us all
the one big step in the future, the step to end it all.
Scared?! who, you? but of course silly human!
You are flawed in many ways!, not only by fear
but by anger, and greed,
Those flaws that will one day take the only thing you have left
Exitance
All right! A nice little influx of poetry, and a number of different viewpoints! Our little version of the Rorschach tests (poetically, of course!), is off and running. Welcome to mushaboo! Mind if we shorten that to Shaboo?
Pen, stand-in judge for AndyDio, off on a mission of mercy.
http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1.../PuppyLove.gif
I’m working on it, but it’s not coming out like I want. Things usually stew until they just spill over for me, but it’s taking a while this time. It’s very frustrating since I won’t read what everyone else has written until I post my poem. I don’t want to inadvertently borrow from one of you, but I’m anxious to know what you’ve written. I hope to finish in a day or two.
Looking forward to reading urs, motherhubbard :)
I'm urging myself to write a piece before next week. Since from next week, school--> on, life--> off. So I guess I've got less than a week to write something. But, ironic as it is, nothing's coming out, and it will be idiotic of me to force something out, writing cant be anything but freewilled. So perhaps i wont make it in time... But I'm looking forward to reading all of the different insights on this thoughtful picture.
Guess it's good we have a lot of time before the end of the contest, doesn't seem to be much poetry around thus far...
Indeed. AndyDio would be very disappointed with turn out so far, methinks...
Not the poems, the amout of poems!
http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1...ilies/ISNF.gif
Well, I have one, but since there is so much time left I want to hold incase something else comes to mind. Everytime I read it I change it a little. I haven't read the others but if I don't start feeling better about what I wrote I may chicken out.
NNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Don't chicken out! What may seem to you your worst might be what others consider a masterpiece. You take me. I never could understand, and I confess I still do not, the art of Pollack. But someone did, and it is priceless art. I can paint myself, when I try, and could take, say, an Andrew Warhol picture and do a close imitation. Mine would be worthless; his priceless. He does something that I cannot recapture. Only you can write your poems. Think of it that way.
Pen
http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l1.../PuppyLove.gif
well, here it is.
Sacrificed Humanity
Proudly they came, bearing meaty offerings of written word,
Laying upon the sardonic alter a sacrifice too great.
Elated with the promise, and hungry for more and more,
They gave over this great treasure without a second thought.
Knowledge, language, symbols, history, philosophy, and religion - cast off.
Humanity blindly forsaking its humanity, with no sense of loss.
Now the heart of man beats cold, unable to comprehend the price that was paid.
All that can be found of the past is discarded like rubbish.
Ruffling pages cry out to deaf ears, quieting only with the stillness of the wind.
The world, in its push for more, forsook what it already had.
Upon the steps of the alter are the last few remains.
Relics of the past left to the elements.
Knowledge exchanged for apathy. Mankind no more than a shell.
Turn away from the volumes; shield your ears from the truth.
Stand before the judgment lost, blinded and deafened by a barren lust.
What is hollow will not be filled; hunger and thirst will not be quenched.
When morning opens wide and the silence of loss screams,
Who will hear the pleading whisper of origins yearning to be understood?
Thank you. Mother H. I will, of course, reserve comments on the poems until the winner is announced, but I have it copied to my list, and will pour over it. Everyone gets a review from me when I am the "Judge", ick, nasty word, that!
Pen.