Great stuff Pendragon you are a talented photographer very impressive I love photgraphy very much!
Inspiring for a poem I see what I can come with:D
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Great stuff Pendragon you are a talented photographer very impressive I love photgraphy very much!
Inspiring for a poem I see what I can come with:D
Echoes of gunshots
Shimmer on the stones
Fade and fold over
Whisper forgotten names
And dance like shadows
Across the sunlit trees
it's ghoslty hour
locked in a clock
of an empty tower
it's a night time
tremor
looking down
on streets
trembled and
sour
this timely power
is proul to cower
to a state of lower
the silenced hour
Ill at Camp During War
The civil war had made him ill.
Latrines began to swell
As others added to them till
The breeze took up the smell.
A gun wound didn't down this boy
Nor did he fire a shot.
He didn't take from others joy,
But died around that spot.
Not to prolong the contest, since I have only three entries and the deadline is tomorrow, anyhoo....
Moonbird: The word "echoes" really stands out, since orb energy is said to be a "residual haunting", a repeating echo of past lives and events
cacian: Loved the repeating rhyme especially strong here:
yesno: I had to laugh at your delightful satire of bringing a soldier's life down to digging a latrine! I am sure that for any newly inducted soldier, digging latrines and doing push-ups seems to be life for a time!Quote:
this timely power
is proul to cower
to a state of lower
the silenced hour
But only one winner...
I believe Moonbird interpreted this picture best. MOONBIRD is the Winnah! Congrats!
Thank you! Here is your next picture:
http://www.online-literature.com/for...pictureid=9764
For a little background, the hole in this tree was dug hundreds of years ago in order to make a road. Amazingly, the enormous sequoia still lives today. I find this feat of nature to be inspiring. Can't wait to see what you all will come up with.
Deadline August 31. Good luck!
moonbird congratulations and would like to say that there is no picture to be seen here.Quote:
Originally Posted by moonbird
No picture? Weird, it shows up for me. Are others of you having a problem viewing the pic?
Yes I have the same problem, I cannot see anything where the picture is supposed to be.
Okay, well for those of you who are unable to view the picture, below is a link to the website where I got it from:
http://www.americansouthwest.net/cal...ve-tree_l.html
nice picture moonbird
a simple path
to simple truth
is under roof
that
towers youth
models a proof
and powers moves
to break through grief
with ease
and please
a lifelong breeze.
I really suppose that they had to build this road
But why did they build it through me?
It was a curious choice, it made its point--
This tree is Huge! Couldn't they just see?!!
Through all the lonely years, I've stood here
The crowds of tourists than now drive this road!
They pass through me every day, words of awe they say
But now I'm growing old and cold!
Think about it, friend, how these dreadful men
Cut the heart wood from my bole
Could you live like this, don't you think you'd resist
This wounding of the soul?
Here comes another car, I see it from afar
I think I may have had my fill!
If I give up now and come crashing down
How many do you think I'd kill?
If a tree falls within the forest walls
And no one's there does it make a sound?
When I give in to the wind, don't worry friend
How the screaming shall resound!
Pendragon
The Gateway
Before me stands a doorway
leading into another world,
at the entrance I hesitate
wondering if I should pass through.
What awaits the otherside
remains a mystery,
it tempts me forth to boldly
go into the unknown.
But am I ready to leave behind
this world and all I know?
I look back seeking the answer
and consider my life up to this point.
Perhaps it is time
for a change, I could use something new
and there adventure is waiting
beckoning me to come forth,
gradually I step forward.
Deadline in less than a week.
Underneath the Giant Tree
Some seedlings sprouted by the tree
That was extremely tall.
It blocked the sun and without light
those seedlings had to fall.
A trail goes through that big tree now
That died, too, after all.
The seedlings still don't stand a chance.
Cleared pathways keep them small.
cacian: Simple yet interesting. Enjoyed the rhyme scheme.
Pendragon: I like how you took the tree's point of view. The last stanza was my favorite.
Dark Muse: Eerily beautiful, as is your style I've learned to recognize.
YesNo: Sadly truthful. Enjoyable to read.
And of these four entrees your winner is Dark Muse. Your turn.
Oh thank you. I will have a new picture up soon.
Ok here is your next image
http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m7...enfo1_1280.jpg
Cuddling With a Wild Bird
You're face is much to close to him,
My belle. I fear that wild bird might
Turn quickly, pecking out your eye,
Then fly away in careless flight
With you regretting, while you cry,
Your faithful waste of worth on him.
Talk to me, my feathered friend
I'll listen well to what you say
But please remember little one
My shoulder is NOT a w.c.
Only two entires so far? Anyone else want to jump in?
I would like to give it a go. When is your deadline?
I will make it the end of the month.
Blue Desire
My breasts do not fool you;
Your eyes want something.
I give you my shiest finger;
You ignore its nail and skin.
My moist lips are waiting;
Kisses do not excite you.
I offer you my keen nose;
You avoid my breathing.
My bony chin scares you;
It moves when I speak.
I beg you to peck on my cheek;
Your sharp beaks are for digging.
Do you want my satin shawl?
Will the white lace satisfy you?
I have nothing left but my eyes;
You go ahead and dig their blue.
You cannot stay,
how e’re ye pray,
the fates wilt not abide ye;
fly fast, my dear,
ne’er return here,
lest Feline shalt devour thee!
A quiet bird sat on my shoulder.
She made me feel older.
I wished I had wings like she.
But, ah, bird said, is not to be.
I asked, why not?
Bird laughed.
Then flew.
Thank you all for your entires:
YesNo: A humorous little poem with a bit of a dark twist to it. I liked the classical sound of it. It had a nice flow to it and was enjoyable to read.
Pendragon: A whimsical little poem with an unexpected humorous twist at the end.
Jake: I liked your use of Old English in this poem. It was a fun little poem.
jajdude: I really liked this. It was quite a lovely little poem. I thought the beginning lines were catching, and I enjoyed the conversation between them.
And the winner is.........
miyako73: This was beautifully written, very elegant. I loved the imagery of, and I found it to be quite an original take.
congrats, miyako73 :yesnod::yesnod::yesnod:
Thank you, Dark and Pendragon. Here's the next image:
http://fc07.deviantart.net/fs29/f/20..._mirrorTEA.jpg
Change
Death marks out a time to pause
And makes for us a past.
Life moves on observing laws
That change is what will last.
The sparrow falls and lies so still,
A bloody flower blooms near its head
A body so tiny that it is easily overlooked
But before it formed inside the egg
Before the first note that it sang
Someone somewhere took notice of the bird
He even knew the very day it would fall to earth
In this life I move so quickly
Old age creeps in before I'm ready
Disease robs me of my joy, my hope, my life
Before I was formed in mother's belly
Before a whisper of life in the dark
Someone somewhere took note of who I am
When I fall
I shall not be forgotten by the One that sees us all
Pendragon
(C) 10/12/2012
Small Deaths
Innocence
a fragile rarity
which flickers and fades
in and out of existence,
it is but a spark with a wavering
life span,
crushed too soon within the world,
yet even in its death
there is something almost beautiful,
which leaves an eternal impression
upon the soul.
Deadline in a week. Any more poems?
Jimmy and Ben.
Jimmy an' Ben sittin on a wire,
Say Jimmy to Ben,
We bin here for a' hour
It's time we was up,
An stretchin our wings,
flyin' aroun' an doin' bird t'ings.
Sez Ben.
Its nice up here jus sittin an singin,
Watchin the world,
An essent-chally chillin,
But Jimmy he say
Up, up, an' away,
I'll race yer' roun' the dock of the bay.
And off they went to swoop and fly,
Till Ben hit a window,
'Cos he thought it was sky.
YesNo, although expository, I liked the seemingly authoritative voice and the desirable economy of your words.
Dark Muse, I liked how you beautfully masked the gore of death with deep words and beautiful images.
Prendrelemick, I liked how you used an informal language, but I thought you could use Ebonics but still be poetic.
The winner:
Pendragon, I liked the metaphors, the subtexts, and the analogies. I thought this poem was deep and well-thought out.
Thanks, everyone.
Thank you. Next up should stir the imagination....
http://us.123rf.com/400wm/400/400/di...net-part-1.jpg
homeless
in times like these i imagine the moon
setting like the death star over new york city
serpentine smoke twisting heavenward
from this broken parquet tarmac
and i wonder what the future holds
for me and you, us, this civilization:
will we find ourselves
self-realized, complete
or deluded and broken?
i am an orphan, a vagabond and this is my home
this city named Hope, her boulevards my bed
i lie under twilight’s red star-sequined blanket,
my head throbs to her pulse
and i wonder what fire burns inside
those who sleep warm:
when they dream
do they fly high
or do they crawl?
this city at night has always been my love,
my geometric mistress clothed in nothing
but the flicker of smooth jazz candlelight
that dances invitingly in her eyes
and i wonder what would happen
if one day i did take her hand:
would i find myself
trapped, condemned
or home, free?
They work too late tonight. The lights
Are on inside the moon.
The curfew cleared the streets. All rights
At night were over soon.
Resistance to the Judd had failed.
Now no one says a word
Since those who talk get mugged and jailed.
Defense is never heard.
They work too late tonight because
The monsters in the west
Are doing what a monster does:
They give the strong a test.
The Judd will answer, and if war
Is what the monsters need,
The Judd will make sure never more
Can any monster breed.
What's new is what prepares its fate
Beneath the moonlit sky.
Tomorrow, wet with blood and hate,
The Judd march out to die.
Dante at the Worlds end.
I laid my head upon the mossy knoll,
For weary was I and far-travelled,
There soothed by murmurings of fountains close,
And lulled by breeze among it's trees,
In that forest glade, sleep profound I met.
How long in that parody of death I laid,
Non was there to tell, nor guess,
When sense of life returned ,cold marble pressed my cheek,
And silence surrounded me unnatural -
As though gone had Nature from the Earth.
Courage at last I found to ope my eyes,
And saw I lay upon a mighty thoroughfare,
Smooth paved with stones of hue contrasting,
Laid out in pattern geometrical.
Great edifices, smooth built, lined the street,
Though made of what material I could not say.
Nor stone, nor wood, nor iron, nor lead I saw,
The far horizon did my eye engage,
For beset with lighted casements square
A massy golden orb there was displayed,
Sentience I knew whithin resided,
And so to it addressed my question.
“What is this place and how came I here? “
The answer came to me not through the air,
But reverberated in my very whole .
“You have not moved, this is the place,
where once wearied long ago you slept,”
As with wonder I pondered this strange tale,
Urgent doubt assailed my thoughts..
Fearing answer for ne'er so 'lone I felt,
I asked again. "Where are all the people?"
“Gone” was the reply, “you are the last.”
the night ahead shimmers in stars
skyrises blue white in distance peak
the road is clear
in twilight mere
the air is sheer
all around austere
and midnight is weir to a space endeared