Haunted and Sapphire, your poems are by turns beautiful, clever, moving! Thank you so much for participating.
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Haunted and Sapphire, your poems are by turns beautiful, clever, moving! Thank you so much for participating.
Here's my submission!
Ode to Trash, Which Might Mean Something If We Knew the Story of How It Got There
Potent, acrid, & grimy --
the thing smelt like gasoline
and dirt
rubbed together
like a hippie worry bead
wrinkled
probably torn & soft as tissue
paper even by then
despite
his hands, which could not help
but paw the letter in his
Who knows what it said?
I sure don't. The ink was rubbed off when I
found it.
But I could still smell his workman's hands
when I brought it to my nose
and down
again to the jimson weeds that grew
by the shed where he worked
at night.
Dead Letter
We found him in the woods not far from where
Main Street became Route 7 leaving town
From the South. He wandered in about a 100 yards
Along the path that led to Miller's Creek. Before
He reached the Millhouse he had found a tree,
A chestnut, giving August shade and close
Enough for him to hear the water's minor turbulence.
The 12 guage blast must have rung
For some time, before the water could be heard
Again by anyone else in the vicinity.
When we found him it was quiet enough
To hear the nearby creek from where he sat
Back against the treetrunk, the top half
Of his head was gone, hidden by a buzzing
Gauze of flies. In the right breast pocket of his shirt
We found a note.
Comedian and Nick, I am quiet, thoughtful...stunned really, with a chill still rolling up my spine. Thank you.
It was the last breath
before he left
his soul flew
on wings of a white angel
his body was lying
on the dusty bed
something briliant in his eyes
seemed to be
stronger than the death
something ambiguous
but fascinating
exactly like his speechless smile
the last one
which has been drawn
on his dead face
a letter in his pocket
was written since many years..
a throne peace of pink paper
and lines of pale ink
told me all the secrets
of the smily eyes
through the darkness of death
enlighted by a hope
to meet his love
which he has lost oneday
May be..in an other world
in an other life
A letter
Stuffed carelessly into his coat
Along with the day's other mail
A letter hoped for but not expected
In it a final chance
In it a choice revealed
Like an obscured path spied through dust and dusk
Nearly passed by
In it things unknown made known
That letter in his pocket
By twist of fate
Fell
Unread
Into the street
Free Falcon and March Hare, wowzers!!!! Touching...then stunningly ironic. Thank you!
To last overnight
and over the conscience
leading back to Hermes' closet
in a predominant knot of woven plusses and rugged ruses,
trying to answer
the letter in my breast pocket
with a sufficiently glib
evil phone call dictated from a point
elucidated from somewhere deep in Pandora's trunk
in the core of Elysium's
virtual treasure map
buried in the philosophical directory listings
of pain referenced to revenge.
I feel like I've been on a journey deep in the heartland of a mythical land. Thank you, alakungfu, for taking me from one end of this country to another!
Reread Letter
There's a letter in his pocket,
old and wrinkled, touched by time,
the letter from his sweetheart that he found
on the tree where they were to meet:
"I'll be there. Just wait on me. I love you so much."
Now he stands at her grave,
for she went on before him,
and the words have new meaning
and fill him with the hope
that they shall meet again...
Pendragon
There is so much tender feeling invested in these few words. Thank you, Pendragon.
Ablation
It was easier than she'd thought;
Just one knock at the door,
And a man standing patiently there.
The letter in his pocket telling her all she could bear to hear.
Not even a word needed to be spoken,
She already knew what it was;
Just another drop of pain in the storm that had engulfed the town;
These icy letters falling hard on soft quivering hearts.
But this particular hailstone still knocked her off her feet,
She couldn't even cry,
Just softly murmur a groan.
George wasn't coming home.
I had an idea, Indy, where you were going with this, but it still took my breath away.
Only one day left. The contest ends tonight at 8 p.m. I would like to thank everyone who entered, and for your fine, fine entries. It was more than I ever hoped for.
Thank you; it was intentional , I thought the competition could benefit from something simple but -hopefully- poignant, the inevitablity of the ending hopefully bringing closer to mind the plight of the narrator waiting nervous at every knock knowing what it would bring and finding when it did happen even with all her prior preparation it was still as painful as she thought.
P.S And I am sure I speak with the voice of all the contributors when I say a hearty thank you to you for running this competition and judging it thus giving us something to focus our efforts and sharpen our abilities against.
Thank you, Indy.
Your poem is indeed poignant; I, myself, have had instances where I have had that same feeling.
This contest is now closed. My words to you upon initiating this go round were "Good luck, have fun, be brilliant." I hope you had fun, I know you were brilliant. I will have the results posted in just a few days. Thank you so much for your brilliant, beautiful entries.
And the winner of this Subject Poetry Contest is:
Nick Capozzoli
Rabid Reader:
Yours was a tender missive of father to son filled with loving advice which ended:
So please remain well, and brush your hair.
Remove the dust and crumbs from it.
If your lonely and need some care,
Look upon the letter that’s in your pocket.
Haunted:
Yours had a surprise ending, a play on words, which you invested with a wealth of meaning; I thought perhaps it was about a broken love affair.
still in the pocket
now long forgotten
is the letter...
this little
letter...
i
Sapphire:
You used a number of allusions to current songs to good effect. I liked the idea of the letter as a message in a bottle.
I am inscensed; I bottle up my fears
and throw them in the ocean
Let them never reach the shore
All these fake emotions
Comedian:
You use language well, painting a vivid picture of a discarded letter, giving importance to that which is unimportant.
Potent, acrid, & grimy --
the thing smelt like gasoline
and dirt
rubbed together
like a hippie worry bead
wrinkled
Free Falcon:
A tender paean to a long lost love which made my sentimental heart ache to read it.
a letter in his pocket
was written since many years..
a throne peace of pink paper
and lines of pale ink
told me all the secrets
March Hare:
This one was rough to read, man. Note the twist at the end in the full version.
In it a final chance
In it a choice revealed
Like an obscured path spied through dust and dusk
Nearly passed by
In it things unknown made known
Alakungfu:
So literate, so many twists and turns, you use language like Arachne. I like your use of mythology!
trying to answer
the letter in my breast pocket
with a sufficiently glib
evil phone call dictated from a point
elucidated from somewhere deep in Pandora's trunk
in the core of Elysium's
virtual treasure map
Pendragon:
A letter from his deceased sweetheart, which gives new meaning and hope.
the letter from his sweetheart that he found
on the tree where they were to meet:
"I'll be there. Just wait on me. I love you so much."
Now he stands at her grave,
for she went on before him,
and the words have new meaning
Indy:
This one knocked me off my feet, the letter every mother dreads getting.
But this particular hailstone still knocked her off her feet,
She couldn't even cry,
Just softly murmur a groan.
George wasn't coming home.
Nick Cappozoli:
Between Nick, alakungfu, March Hare and Comedian, I was a little torn (no pun intended), but the solemn force of his words and the masterful way he handled the subject makes this one the clear winner. Thank you all, thank you Nick.
Dead Letter
We found him in the woods not far from where
Main Street became Route 7 leaving town
From the South. He wandered in about a 100 yards
Along the path that led to Miller's Creek. Before
He reached the Millhouse he had found a tree,
A chestnut, giving August shade and close
Enough for him to hear the water's minor turbulence.
The 12 guage blast must have rung
For some time, before the water could be heard
Again by anyone else in the vicinity.
When we found him it was quiet enough
To hear the nearby creek from where he sat
Back against the treetrunk, the top half
Of his head was gone, hidden by a buzzing
Gauze of flies. In the right breast pocket of his shirt
We found a note.
Nick, you will choose the next subject.
Appreciatively Yours,
Qimissung
Congrats, Nick. Well done.
And well done to you qimissung. A fair and industrious judge.
Well, thanks very much. I'm honored.
So I guess I get to propose a new subject.:redface:
How about a first line, with an image to be expanded? I wrote a poem some years ago with this as the first line, but I'm curious to see where it could go.
...
"After the first one, killing them was easy"
Nick
Congrats Nick! :D
Congrats, Nick. Here is my poem:
The Road Less Flawed
He saved his wife the sordid shock
After his destiny did him mock
And vampire lust possessed his soul
One sultry night that did ill knock.
Dierdre did her beloved toll
All his time spent on the knoll
And warned him he would be her death
If danger rested as his dole.
When he found her and kissed her breath
His temper rose and raised the heath
Within his unnatural melodrama
And turned his head to the bloody beneath.
He missed his turn to pose Dierdre harm
And considered his rose that was yet warm
Turned to scented stone and gristle
And knowingly let go her arm.
He fled through the threshold back to the thistle
A fiend of the moonstream and stretch of the whistle
And agonized as he studied a stamen and pistil
He would gain her, would embrace the ravenstoke missal.
alakungfu,Quote:
Originally Posted by alakungfu
Well, that is an interesting poem, but it doesn't seem
to take off on the phrase I suggested, i.e. "After the
first one, killing them was easy." I was hoping that someone
would be able to incorporate that phrase into a poem. I'll give
a couple of weeks for Lit-Forum members to submit to this
"contest."
Nick
Bloodtrails fade fast in the rain
And it helps the flesh to decay.
These are tricks you learn as you go
Which every time are only more important
After the first one, killing was easy
But always getting harder to hide
PE,Quote:
Originally Posted by PoemsEulogy
Interesting and creepy (serial-killer-like) take-off on the suggested phrase.:eek:
Nick
Well, PoemsEulogy stole my psychopathic thunder but here goes...
---------------------------------------------------------------
After the first one killing them was easy
Before you know you're kinda
S***ting your pants
And thinking
Thinking
Get the hell outta here
Go home go anywhere
I took some deep breaths to calm down
Went in
Closed the door
And aimed
Pop pop pop
She fell like a brick
I looked at her
I knew her
I knew her pretty good
Since like third grade
Oh f*** I whispered
And man I was shaking
Maybe crying
Crying and thinking
Is this it is this what's gonna happen
Can I get out of this situation
And then laughing
To myself
At myself
Situation that's a good way to put it
And the laughing froze my blood
My blood froze
And I aimed again
Here's my entry!
After the first one, killing them was easy
It took ten days to axe them -- limbs and all
It took nine to split them to the grain
And eight to clear the uneven ground
Seven to build the the level rows
And six to stack them up
Five to cover them
And four to pray
Three days 'till
Winter's
Here
Keep 'em coming! We're getting somewhere...even if it ain't very pretty...I mean can't we imagine putting the phrase in a poem with a non-psychopathic
point of view? :( I'll give it another week or so.
Nick
Bloody Hells
After the first one, killing them was easy—
Millions liquidated for a Madman’s eternal dream…
The blood still cries out from the ground,
From these Gates to Hell on Earth:
Auschwitz-Birkenau, Belzec, Chelmno, Majdanek, Sobibor, and Treblinka.
It would look like mankind would finally have learned,
But new places for mass-slaughter arise like a bloody sun,
Cambodia, Dafur, Iran, Iraq, Somalia, Rwanda…
The stifling cry of copper-tasting blood still echoes from the ground,
And who among is there to answer that silent scream…
© Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Pendragon
After the First One, Killing Them was Easy
by LMK
After the first one, killing them was easy
One by one their heads fell
I watched the first, disbelieving
But soon a flash of ecstasy shot through me
And after it a release I had never imagined
I carried on in frenzied, passion, a burning fury to kill them
Everything was covered in red, there was so much red
The younger ones had little to give up,
Just tiny buds, barely life even begun
But, the older ones with little blush left on their bloom were my favorite
Sharpened blades made all the difference
Why did I wait so long to do this?
Such liberation, to be rid of them all
Oh, that I could escape from them, I often dreamed
Their dying, turning to dust, blowing away in the wind, left to be nothing
It was a satisfaction I never expected to fulfill
For how long did I pretended to love them
While hatred and resentment grew in my heart
I waited, biding my time, not forming any plan
Patience rewarded me with such exhilaration I never conceived
I still can’t believe that he planted red roses
He knew I had asked for lilac bushes
I spoke often enough of how they would perfume the air
With spring’s gentle breezes; the fragrance of my youth.
He understood, he knew, he did it to mock me; “a love that will bloom forever,” he said
“Mother’s won another ribbon,” he’d gloat over her prize roses
For five years, I fawned and pruned, cut and trimmed
Keeping their blossoms full and their stalks trained while he recounted her latest win.
Well, no more, the last bud, flower, stem and root
Composted, leaving only a small track of petals I’d tired of picking up, as if a trail of blood
Yes, after the first one, killing them was easy.
Let him grow roses and compete with his mother if he wants,
I'm ordering lilac bushes!
/*
~L
PenD and LMK,
Wow! Great stuff! I really like this new turn. I think that LMK is the one to beat, so keep it up Lit Netters. We'll give this part of the contest another
week. :)
Nick
Wow, these are AWESOME, each and every one!
I guess there has been enough time for submissions. I've never had to judge a poetry contest before this, and I don't feel cabable of judging this one.
I can submit the poem I wrote with the line ti use as a take off, "after the first one killing them was easy..." Here it is.
Cowslaughter
After the first one, killing them was easy
As learning to place the shot well
Back of the ear, the others waiting
Behind a door ready to kick the bar out
When she would fall against it, as if
Suddenly realizing her own weight.
Cutting was the most difficult. To break
The skin it seemed you’d need a hammer
To pound the knife in, your hands working
Behind a curtain of flesh, probing
For the right vein. The blade
Came always on the same things:
The white wall of sinew, loose flesh,
Then scraping along the windpipe where
You 'd find it,
The quick release of blood.
You don’t think of that, only knives moving
Rapidly, the skin falling to the floor
In folds, like a tarpaulin. Better now,
That it looks like work: a groundcloth
To catch the mess, a winch lifting
The carcass by hind legstumps, a grainsack
You cut open. Spilling what was inside
You gather it back to its own skin, hauling it
To the dump in a pickup truck.
Hours later when you return.
The shed is empty, filled with breeze;
The hollow carcass hung in halves:
No blood now, all washed away
Or receded into the horny flesh.
Whatever had been on the air is gone.
The cattle and horses no longer edgy
Fall back to gnawing the bales of hay
You toss to them. Only you,
Who smelled nothing at the time,
Recall many years afterward
The smell this blood left on your hands.
Someone else, maybe Q-Sung, shoud judge this
competition.
Nick
Yours is quite beautiful and powerful, also, Nick.
I would like to help, but this is your party! :)
ThanksQuote:
Originally Posted by Nick Capozzoli
OK. I guess this challenge has been out there for a while, but I'll set a date to end it: August 23, at 2000 hours (Pacific Time). Keep 'em coming!Quote:
Originally Posted by qimissung
Nick
Thanks to alakungfu, Poems Eulogy, March Hare, The Comedian, Pendragon, and LMK for their excellent submissions!
It was hard to select a "winner," as all of your entries were strong, with powerful images.
I guess that I should have expected the take-off phrase, After the first one, killing them was easy would prompt a poetic exploration into the mind of a psychopathic killer (either an individual or, as in Pendragon's excellent Bloody Hells, a collectivist State bent on murder).
But I had to select a "winner, and here it is (DRUMROLL):
LMK
LMK, as the winner, it is now up to you to chose a topic and judge the entries. Good Luck and Godspeed,Quote:
Originally Posted by LMK
Nick
This is reminiscent of the third inter-chapter in Hemingway's short story collection In Our Time:
"We waited till he got one leg over and then potted him. He had so much equipment on and looked awfully surprised and fell down into the garden. Then three more came over further down the wall. We shot them. They all came just like that."
What a great take off phrase; wish I would have came upon it sooner.
Thanks Nick!
OK, how about something a little different, and random perhaps?
The subject is hope, and the words, "...red button..." should appear somewhere in the piece.
If there is enough response (at least 3), by September 15, then that will be the last day of posting entries. If there is not enough response by then, I'll give it to September 30.
Hope you enjoy,
~L
Panic Button
Panic is a slimy thing
Curled like the Midgard Serpent
Enchaining the human heart
Keep all thoughts on-line
For hitting its bright red button...
Hope is that feathered thing,
Perched precariously upon
A bust of Pallas deep within the soul
That keeps our frenzied minds and hands
From pressing that red button...
Pendragon
© Wednesday, August 26, 2009
I don't think it is random ;)
Which one?
Do you see them?
___________2 round buttons
___________yours to push
Which will you press?
___________the red button
___________or the green
It is sure that one
___________will bring disaster
___________the other salvation
You decide which
___________be colourblind
___________it is all up to you
Press none
___________and all you'll have
___________is hope