rouge lips
red lips
colour tips
red whips
shimmer tricks
night shade
bathe fade
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rouge lips
red lips
colour tips
red whips
shimmer tricks
night shade
bathe fade
Time is up! Thanks for all the entries.
adolescent09: I liked the meter, rhyme and alliteration especially the b sound in the third line. This one begs to be read aloud.
Pendragon: It did seem to be the lips and eyelids and how she used them that made West attractive.
prendrelemick: Great visual presentation of Dali's sofa or Mae West's lips. I especially liked the word "lushalicious".
Dark Muse: I liked the "shades of truth and lies" and "lived to die and died to live". Now that I think of it Dali and
West remind me of Gatsby.
cafolini: Ah, you pleasantly remind me of Joyce!
Adolescent09: I don't know if this was a second entry, but I will consider it as one. It is clear and powerful and fits the theme.
Gilliatt Gurgle: Nice comparison of going west and West's name. I liked the last two lines.
Melanie: I liked the comparison between West's and Dali's unconventionality.
cacian: Nice short lines with good meter. I liked the last two lines with the -ade rhyme.
The winner is prendrelemick!
Constructing a set of words that looked like both West's lips and Dali's sofa seemed right in line with the pattern.
Okay, now say that ten times fast LOLQuote:
Originally Posted by prendrelemick
A much deserved winner!! Woo hoo!!
"puckeriplump" made me giggle. You should
write your own dictionary...love the words.
double post deleted
Thankyou.
And now..... Party time!
http://i85.photobucket.com/albums/k7...psac9b1cd3.jpg
Congrats prendrelemick, a literal picture poem.
You're on fire in the poetry contest section, prendrel! Congrats! Really cool image to boot ;)
I'll be busy with work later, so sorry for my hasty entry.
Chopped and Screwed Tchaikovsky
Adol09
Pick it up, drop the kick, dance a bit to groovy licks!
Goldy locks soggy mops trickle the floor with salt drips!
She's lookin' hype, the night is light, the mood is right, can I get in?
Convulsive beats? Get off your seats! hippies, 'emo's and hovering hoots
We'll rock this night like long ago
when flutes and pipes amped up the show!!!
Strobe lights, teeth white.
Party time tonight!
Dancing to sweet sweat
And morning dreams.
Gosh your tits
Look good tonight!
kittypaws
Night Club
She stood out amid the crowd,
and suddenly it was as if
no one else was around,
when she laughed it drowned out
all other sound.
Her eyes pulled me though,
magnetized I was drawn to her,
my feet barely moved,
it was electric attraction.
And she made my body move,
in ways I never imagined,
I wanted to watch her dance,
the way the light hit her face,
it was enough to make my heart stop.
But her hair on my face,
it jolts me back to life,
and in the middle of everything,
we are alone in the room,
everyone else fades
out of my range of vision.
When her body moves
all I want to do is catch hold of her
and pull her close wishing this night
will never end.
Cuties move their bodies, bared
Suggesting fresh surprise,
Competing for him while he stared
Giggling to his eyes.
a party mood
is like a groove
up down
the smooth
it rolls off
prunes
in music
tunes
the dance floor
moves
a punch
and sooth
it sounds
like soon
petals
of moons
are lit up
noon
Never Forget the First Dance
May I have this dance, your blue eyes entrance me
I've been watching you, the way you move so free
I've got to take this chance, may be the only dance I get with you
Hold you in my arms safe from all harm I love you
The way you move is divine, your lips taste like wine I'm intoxicated
I know I took my time, but now the time is right I've waited
Now the music fades will you walk away and leave me?
Or will you hold me tight each and every night believe in me
Forty years ago, but still you know, glad I took the chance
It's our anniversary, come here to me: Baby let's dance!
(C) Pendragon 6/7/2013
Orbs on the Dance Floor
You’re lost, mesmerized in mammary,
gin doubles the vision, hence the pleasure.
A circus of blondes completes the plenary,
one after another, an ocular treasure!
You cleave to the shadows they cast,
but time wreaks havoc on firmness at last.
I’m the ring leader at center stage
Watching you perform a shallow charade.
But I am intrigued, you must disengage
synthetic beauty that’ll leave you betrayed.
Follow my Orbs, one yellow, one white
They’re near the arm, the one on her right.
Here I am! … in short auburn crown.
The origin of my roots will not deceive.
My orbs are modest, not cloaked with silk gown,
a natural beauty in peasant weave.
The allure of (O)orbs, flesh or paranormal*,
titillate a hetero fella’s hormonal.
* http://www.theorbwhisperer.com/ (credit YesNo for the link from another thread)
The orbs that guys prefer to see
Are not out floating mystically,
But come attached: above, a face;
Below, long legs to rock the place.
Anyone else?
I'll decide over the Weekend.
Some interesting and diverse entries.
Adolecent - Liked the same line rhymes. couldn't quite get the rhythm.
Pendragon - Liked it, but too "nice" for the picture I thought.
Dark Muse - The story was good but I found the language a bit too unpoetical.
Cacian - Prunes??? Apart from that, the repeating ooo noises worked well.
Kittypaws - Got the scene spot on. made me laugh.
YesNo - As usual short and pertinant.
Ok you have to find something to differentiate between poems, so the winner is Gilliat Gurgle. I liked the approach of using the girl in the background as an involved narrator, paranormal orbs though!
I would first like to thank the Academy, bla, bla, bla.Quote:
Originally Posted by prendrelemick
Thanks Mick. Interesting picture selection.
It was difficult to look past the attributes in the foreground, but in the end, I was drawn to the gal in the center.
Here's the next picture, I titled it "Bonito Passages"; a series of openings in the ruins of what is now referred to as "Pueblo Bonito" at Chaco Canyon National Historic Site in New Mexico. Occupied from approximately 850 to 1200.
Here's the National Park Service link...http://www.nps.gov/chcu/historyculture/index.htm
http://i963.photobucket.com/albums/a...o/IMG_1452.jpg
Through lined doors go light and sound
That thread the rooms with weather
And what's remaining on the ground
Now threads us all together.
At Chaco
Itzil son of Coatl picks up a stone,
It's warm and dusty,
He weighs its possibilities,
Checks its flatness,
Judges its thickess
Checks its fitness
Decides which edge is the face,
Which is the bottom,
Which is the top,
He gauges it against the space,
He checks its match with its neighbour,
He knapps off a back corner,
So it will lie flush and sweet,
He does all this in a second,
Then he lays it.
It lies there still.
Doors Within Doors
When you open your mind to possibilities
There are doors within doors on to infinity
Seeking the truth just opens more doors
Each time that you close one will open one more
Infinite diversity in infinite combinations exist
The more that you deny them the harder they are to resist
That door that you protect, that you let no one pass
Could be the one that reveals the whole mess
Open all doors, fear not what you may discover
The answers to life are yours to uncover
But it has to start with the door open to the mind
Then open the others, who knows what you'll find!
Pendragon
(C) 6/18/2013
Dreams of Ariadne
Fleetingly I caught
the ghost-like shape
of a girl in spectral light.
Compulsion overcame me
and I had little choice
but to follow.
She vanished
before my eyes
but her laughter beckoned
me forth.
Down through the doorways
I was led,
they appeared never ending,
as if lost within a maze
which leads nowhere.
Twisting down
archaic pathways
where secrets may never
be revealed,
guided by nothing
but a vision.
How many before
have walked these crumbling halls?
And who is the phantom girl?
What life as she lived?
And where did death find her?
I feel myself Ariadne
as I touch the stone
and my heart quickens a beat
awaiting the Minotaur
to round every corner.
Promotional "bump" and set a deadline.
Let's give it one more week to EOD Saturday 29th.
Nice entries so far btw.
Thanks! I am working on something!Quote:
Originally Posted by Gilliatt Gurgle
kittypaws
Writer's Block #2 (my first "Writer's Block" poem was in post#1282 re: photo of a canoe on 3/13/13)
illumine imaginations
from stone passages of the mind
in perpetual dimensions
of silenced echoes in time
where poetic songs lie dormant
∃
Adol09
On my trip
to catch lost time
I found it jailed by infinity
No door opened
for no door closed
thus time repented for its
ever openness
and ever closeness
to closed as infinity dozed
while dreaming about time
Thanks to all for your entries.
Chaco Canyon is a special place for me, full of mystery, offering quiet solitude and time to reflect on a culture that left no written record, all we have are shaped stones, artifacts, petro glyphs and oral histories passed down to their descendents.
Having walked among the walls, scrambled along the cliffs, seen the night sky so clear the Milky Way is easily tracked from horizon to horizon, it is a delight to read poems on the subject.
YesNo
A simple yet compelling thought, especially the notion of the ruins threading us together.
Prendrelemick
“…He gauges it against the space,
He checks its match with its neighbor,…”
“…It lies there still.”
Very nice, making the rocks the focal point of the poem. Itzil and Coatl? Interesting choice of names, if only they had left us clues about their language and names.
Prendragon
An entirely different approach with the motivational lesson for life.
Dark Muse
Greek mythology and the “ancient ones” of Chaco Canyon, far removed from each other in so many ways except for the common thread of mythology and its significance to each culture. I favored the 5th and 6th stanzas believing they have a stronger connection to the mystery of the place.
Melanie
Like YesNo, simple but stirring, imagining the echoes of the “ancient ones” sounding off the canyon walls.
Adolescent09
I was struck by the imagery of the first lines feeling that this is the stronger half of the poem, recalling my first “trip” there to “catch lost time”.
All are worthy, but alas only one must be chosen, one combines both the imagery of the openings and the mystery of a vanished people.
My choice is Melanie’s poem tipping the scale with these lines:
“…stone passages of the mind”
“of silenced echoes in time
where poetic songs lie dormant”
Well done.
Congrats, Melanie!
Thank you so much Gilliatt (and Pendragon). The photo you posted was perfect for inspiration. Good job with that! I'll get a photo posted soon.
Here is your next photo. It's a painting I did and I'll post the title below in case you don't want to be influenced by it when choosing a theme for your poem. You may feel free to interpret the painting any way you want...or you may use the title and quote below for your poem.
http://i1312.photobucket.com/albums/...ps19c6ad0f.jpg
The title of the painting is "Deforestation". I edited out a quote for here (so that you all
wouldn't be locked into that single interpretation but that still appears on the original) is
"Thank God they cannot cut down the clouds" ~Thoreau. Feel free to use it...or not.
The trees that shade the ancient native mounds
Above the swamp drained by a winding brook
That marked the way a thousand years ago
Now have a suburb to make clear their edge
And trails that take us past their mysteries
Of bear and rabbit shapes upon the ground.
Some geese rise up in graceful, morning flight.
We watch them blending with the springtime air.
They watch us, too, perhaps with peaceful wonder.
You did that!! That's a great picture.
Dreams of Trees
In the deepest part of the ancient wood,
Where beneath their twisted mossy boughs,
The trees hoard the darkness,
Never allowing a chink of it out into the light,
There, down in a deep valley,
Where no bird sings or squirrel stirs,
Where no green shoot has risen for a hundred years,
There sleeps the oldest tree,
Its knarled trunk and knotted roots,
Twist and groan,
As it dreams it's a seagull again.
Song For the Trees
The trees form a frame around the birds that are flying South
The frame of the forest gets thinner every day
The uncertain philosophy that doesn't quite save the trees
How will we ever replace them once they are gone away?
In the name of progress we keep destroying the forest
The birds fly away to a new place where there is food
Sometimes we just don't think of how many species go extinct
Our children may never know wildlife the way that they should
In the name of humanity, we must stop this insanity
The world doesn't just belong to us we must learn to share
But people will read this poem turn around and keep going on
The fact of the matter is most people don't care
So when we all choke on pollution, once we had a solution
The trees breath in CO2 and exhale oxygen for us to use
With the destruction of all the trees goes hope for humanity
Are we ever going to wake up or are we just ignorant fools?
Pendragon
(C) 7.5.2013
Sky Window
We looked out the sky window
watching silhouettes of birds
flying beyond reach,
but still we stretched our arms
in the air as if we could touch their features,
in the end we locked fingers and our hands
flew together.
The trees towered above
making it feel as if we were ever falling,
dizzy with giddiness in our half-waking dreams,
we danced without ever leaving
our bed of nettles and leaves.
Here we were free
to roam vast landscapes,
we traversed the world together
locking arms we could rise up with the birds
which soared overhead while gently
we slumbered tangled
in one another.
All these poems are sooo good!
And thank you prendrelemick...yes, I painted it and didn't like it at first, but it's growing on me.
I'm trying to loosen up more. Maybe I should try a margarita.
Melanie,
What is the deadline?
I'm piecing one together between work, emptying the cat box, grilling, etc.
btw- It's nice to see another painter in the house.
Oh, thank you for the reminder, Gilliatt. I'll say:
deadline is July 20th...judging on the 21st.
blue skies
are blue
birds flying
through
mountains
and few
adorne grow
and brew
palaces of hue
pastels
and view
white skies
are true
purist is lured
(experiment in 10 syllables, but that is about as much "form" as I could eek out)
I awoke to abnormal light passing
through apertures unnatural in shape.
Hewn by the axe, their blows still resonate
off pillars in my forest cathedral.
Those darkening clouds portend a deluge
without pause to mingle with leaves above.
Torrents erode my primeval carpet,
sewn through eons with autumn’s fallen threads.
But John, now you can see a thousand stars.
Nothing as compared to the fire flies lights!
John, now you may enjoy flocks, clouds and blue.
Meadows give me that and butterflies too.
Hold fast to your ground my Aspens and Larch
and to the east you Ash and Chinquapin!
Let only a shimmering breeze shake you.
While the axe cuts holes in harvesting tracts,
preserve the virgin woods left in my name.
http://www.nps.gov/muwo/index.htm
Wow, let me say to everyone that there isn't a mediocre poem in the bunch...they are all excellent! After I posted my painting, I thought "what an egotistical [expletive] I was to think that my painting would be inspirational to anyone but myself" and I began to doubt whether anyone would respond, but luckily you all are a talented and creative group that relentlessly rise to the challenge, as you all do so well...and I breathed a sigh of relief. In fact, it was quite an unexpected trip to receive attentive interpretations. I hadn't foreseen that perk and it was exhilarating. I'm so grateful.
YesNo...Your use of time comparisons of "a thousand years ago" to the present "trails that take us past their mysteries" was a delightful approach. I particularly liked the way your last two lines changed the perspective from "We watch them blending with the springtime air."...to "They watch us, too, perhaps with peaceful wonder." Very, very nice.
prendrelemick...that last line, "as it dreams it's a seagull again", is to die for!...although the word "again" confuses me a bit. No matter, I still like it. Your excellent imagery really pulled me into your poem with "beneath their twisted mossy boughs...trees hoard the darkness...there sleeps the oldest tree, it's gnarled trunk and knotted roots twist and groan". I could smell the moss, feel the trees, see the darkness, and hear the groaning of the tree in the silence....wow.
Pendragon...Love, love, love the title "Song for the Trees". You nailed the essence of the deforestation dilemma in such a poetic way that really grips the reader emotionally and exposes people's apathy and it's frightening aftermath. YES to your last line "are we ever going to wake up or are we just ignorant fools". We must listen to what the earth is telling us and use only Earth's resources that we absolutely need, and then recycle. Wonderful poem.
Dark Muse...The first stanza was my favorite. "...flying beyond reach" and "as if we could touch their features". At first, I read "features" as "feathers" and kind of liked that too. "We locked fingers and our hands flew together" was very beautiful imagery.
cacian..."purist is lured" is a great line and I loved "palaces of hue...pastels...and view". I came really close to understanding all of your poem and thoroughly enjoyed it. Your title pulled it all together quite nicely as I thought your focus on colors lent itself well to "canvas of nature". Great title.
Gilliatt Gurgle...the way you turned this into somewhat of a tribute to the late John Muir is brilliant. It was intriguing the way you tucked your "conversation" with him in the heavens, midway within Muir's narration . You have so many lovely, poetic lines like "primeval carpet sewn through eons with autumn's fallen threads" and "their blows still resonate off pillars in my forest cathedral". And then the way you present a warning issued by Muir, as if a father to his "children" (aka trees) to "hold fast to your ground my Aspen and Larch...let only a shimmering breeze shake you"...so endearing.
As you can see, this was the toughest judging yet but the winner is....Gilliatt Gurgle. John Muir's perspective was a nice touch and you had some great poetic lines.
I am touched by your remarks and appreciate the effort in preparing them.
The ego needs bolstering now and then, in this instance, putting yourself “out there” by posting your own painting paid off.
I find the painting to be a nice composition, well executed, inspirational and worthy of the lines.
My “roof”, “pillars” and “cathedral” references were inspired from recent reading and image search on Chartres Cathedral, in preparation for the next B&F Thanksgiving piece. As I read about Gothic cathedrals in general, I was reminded how the architecture was inspired by the forests:
“The forest of the Gauls passed in turn into temples of our fathers, and our oak forest have thus preserved their sacred origins. These vaults incised with leaves, these socles that support the walls and end brusquely like broken tree trunks, the coolness of the vaults, the shadows of the Sanctuary, the dark aisles, the secret, passages, the low doors, all evokes in a Gothic church the labyrinth of the forests…” James Snyder Medieval Art – Painting, Sculpture, Architecture 4th-14th Century
Nice entries by all, it was enjoyable reading them.
Next, we have a photograph by Henri Cartier-Bresson, a photographer I discovered at the Art Institute of Chicago about 3 years ago.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henri_Cartier-Bresson
Here is Aquila degli Abruzzi:
http://i963.photobucket.com/albums/a...gliAbruzzi.jpg
Deadline - Let's shoot for end of Saturday August 17th