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By the way dear Muse, as things have been going, we are unlikely to have more entries, that is why I never set a deadline. After a week or so, feel free to deem what you like. Seems like Pen, yesno, you and me, are all here on this thread these days, but wait if you must. I find deadlines silly. Those were for school. Even then, were not they silly? You must have your paper in by January 17th? Bunch of nonsense, was it not?
Deadlines do have a purpose in contests, for though it may be true that this thread in the past has suffered particpation, I think it would be quite unfair to soemone if no time frame was given, and I decalred a winner right when another was about to post thier entry without even knowing they were in danger of posting too late.
Sure, deadlines are OK, I guess. (I was a bit off on my previous post) I just meant the way I do it, after several entries, is to wait a week or two, and if nothing new, then make the call. If someone else wishes to join, great, they can join the newest one then.
Is this thread going anywhere? Will there be more entries, or should Muse just judge now? I remember when we'd have a long list of poets to choose from. What happened?
I will give it a little more time to hope others join in, but if indeed there is no change than I may not wait the full length of the deadline.
Ok becasue this thread has been slow and I don't want to make those who have submitted have to wait too much longer, I am changing the deadline.
New deadline is May 15
THE MORTAL ROSE
Oh Rose, thou art sick,
but no remedy sent
for the stab of thy thorn
or the sting of thy scent,
for the blush of thy petals
when fevered with dew
or the fade of thy beauty
when days bid adieu.
H
Sorry if sound like Hill, but I did not intend to be.
You are rose by nature.
But you're thorn by deceit.
With your gleaming petal by reflection sun.
With your touch to the skin as prickly as they come.
Your perfume drain the scent of me away.
O Rose, thou art sick!.
I was wrong dear Muse, new entries. Sorry. I gotta stop posting while drunk.
We may have more life yet, but this depends on you Pen.Quote:
Originally Posted by Pendragon
haha
I want to think everyone for taking the time to partake with your great entries. I had a really hard time with this one, as there were a few different poems I had considered for the winner but had to narrow it down to pick only one.
So here goes:
Pendragon: I enjoyed the dark humorous aspect of your poem. Though perhaps it was not meant to be humorous, it tickled my macabre funny bone. I also really liked the way in which you kept with that Old English style of writing in your poem. And I really liked how you took the common image of the rose, and the cliche of how much the rose is commonly used in poetry and twisted to make it something grotesque.
YesNo: I enjoyed the playfulness of your poem. It is short and to the point, and the ending made me laugh which is generally a good thing. I also liked the aspect of the spurned lover (as it seemed to me) turning away from the hard to get rose. I liked the idea of snubbing the rose so often used to being celebrated in poetry for favor of the orchid instead.
hillwalker: Your poem reminds me the most of the original poem. I thought it was very well crafted and elegantly expressed. You did a very good job of keeping in the tone of that Romantic style which is something I generally enjoy. It was a beautifully mournful poem. The ending was a perfect conclusion to this poem and was quite moving.
zoolane: I loved the opening line of your poem. It was one of the few poems that did not use the quote as the first line, and it caught my eye off the bat and really drew me into the poem. You produced some great imagery and I really loved the line "With your gleaming petal by reflection sun." You managed to play upon the originally concept while at the same time still being original with your poem which was quite enjoyable.
But alas without further ado the winner is............
jajdude: I love the originality of turning Rose into a name and instead of speaking purely metaphorically creating this story about a woman. I also really enjoyed the back and forth aspect, of the conversation between the two different figures, and the dark tone behind the story. It brought to my mind issue of women and insanity during the Victorian era. There were times when I was not certain if indeed the presumed lover was not intentionally trying to convince her that she was insane, and I liked that touch of the ominous about it. Also I enjoyed the use of rhyme.
Thanks DM - and congratulations jajdude!
H
Thanks Muse - and congratulations jajdude!
Thank you Dark Muse and well done Jajude.
Thank you muse and all above me. It took a piece out of me to write that actually on a caffeine-laden morning. Was somewhat about my dear old mumsy, nice old bird, crazy as a duck. Schizophrenia, so they say. She's 75 now god love her. Daddy died 20 years ago.
Been having major internet issues at my crib in China, in coffee shop now, works ok.
Next Quote: I,m Just going to invent one:
" The beauty of life is without forgiveness"
Deadline: Whenever no one writes for a while.
The Beauty of Life is without forgiveness,
The Reality of Life is a feast unknown
The Temptations of Life are omnipresent
The Road of Life is narrow and trecherous
The Love of Life is all too fleeting
The Joy of Life turns swiftly to tears
The Pain of Life is often all we know
The River of Life is wide and deep
The Decisions of Life are what truly makes us
The Living of Life our one true choice
The Twilight of Life can be sunshine or shadow
The End of Life but a return to start...
Pendragon
Am I the only one playing this game?!! :(:(:(
So it seems, Pen. Oh well. Maybe I should have found a proper quote?
Life is Beautiful
Weep not
for your despair
how cruel it may to you
now seem
the darkness in which
you were cast
unjustly,
but such suffering
comes from
your own short-sightedness
you perceive not
the greater truth
of the gift you have been given,
for the beauty of life is without
forgivness, so rise from
your prostate position
and greet the day
that you are yet still alive
for all else that may befall.
My World.
My world had to crumble.
When you saw fit to deceiver me.
My world had to crumle.
When you rise you hand to me.
You ask for forgivness.
My heart will give in.
My head stand firm.
I said to you.
"The beauty of life is without forgiveness".
Thanks for the entries. I guess it's time to continue the game. I've read them several times and liked them all well enough. I'll even make a few comments for a change, not that I'm much for critique.
Pen, a fine job in summing up many aspects of life with single lines like that. An enjoyable poem in structure and full of meaningful words.
Muse, a solid work about responsibility for oneself, and the need to take hold of each day, to try and make the most, even if dark. Has the sound of truth.
Zoolane, I liked the dignity of yours. Despite being wronged, one was strong enough to forgive, yet self-respecting to not allow the wrong to be repeated.
Hard choice as it usually is, but I'm going to hand this one to zoolane. Well done.
Good going zoolane! :):):)
Thank you Jajdude. Hmm let me think of one? be back soon.
Famous quote is from a poem called 'My Little One' by Tennesse Williams.
I hold him not. Indeed, who could?
Good luck everyone who taken part the date line June 30th.
The Gravity of His Love
I stand in stillness,
sentient,
before the gray of the grave,
bitter the wind
upon my skin.
How could I not
remember?
Last words spoken
unknown than
the full weight
they would carry.
I hold him not.
Indeed, who could?
when somewhere
on the other side
of the world
he died.
Just as he
once lived,
alone,
while his last breath
escaped
into the desert sun
and his eyes
began to fade.
All that remains
to me
are ashes, bones
and memories,
but did I ever
know the full
gravity of his love?
Why is it now
that the distance
between us has
never been so
small?
Because now
that he is gone
he is ever more
present than
when once I knew
he lived
while yet he
kept apart.
Gone
I hold him not, indeed, who could?
The world outside is looking good
And he is off upon some whim,
Forgetting me forgiving him.
Four days left to enter.
For Jonathan
He was a hard-head man out on his own
Married now with a home of his own
He's still my son, it's so hard to let go
But children grow up, it's inevitibe you know
And I hold him not, who could
Life with a wife is one thing that's good
But I miss him so he seems so far away
But one "Dad, I love you" always makes it OK
I gained a daughter, I did not loose a son
Family is all that matters when all is said and done
Pendragon
All three poems great wonderful.
Dark Muse- I adore your poem because first stanza is old fashion style what mean is a sense of Victoria era, I imagine a person stand at graveside saying this poem as words hit cold air. The tone change I think in the throed stanza to soldier who dies for country but also bring back current conflict against terror so the western world said. The end of the piece show that person who lost him is moving on but he still has a impact on them.
Yes- It great little poem remind me of being child and found bird that injury. Wanting the bird to be freedom but also could be refer to person who illness and died. The person reach out for forgiveness for a act of kind show to person who was ill.
Pen- I absolute love this poem because it show parent love for their child which I can relate because aviate with three daughters that time will come. I think it spot on to point how parent would feel.
Winner is............... Dark Muse only because I felt feel the atmosphere when reading it.
But in my book you all are winners.
Thank you very much, I will start working on thinking up the next line.
Here is a quote from one of my personal favorites, Sylvia Plath. Quote taken from Lady Lazarus
Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.
Well Done, Muse. I forgot to enter this one.
Well since no one seems to want to tackle this I will provide an alterntive line. For those who may still want to use the original you are welcome to, so you have a choice. But still only one poem per person so you don't get extra credidt for writing a poem for both.
So in honor of Moon Day here is you altenrate line
With the silver seas around us and the pale moon overhead
From "A Ballad of John Silver" by John Masefield
Deadline August 10
The Silver Sea
They have got us with their pranking,
Caused more damage than they ought.
We can see them move the planking
To have fun with those they've caught.
With our hands bound we are waiting
Till as one by one we fall,
Water-logged, our lungs inflating:
Does it take much time at all?
With the silver seas around us
And the pale moon overhead,
There's now nothing to astound us.
We're beneath those seas and dead.
Visions
With the silver seas around us and the pale moon overhead
We struggled hard against the waves, but our hearts had turned to dread
It was strange to see a boiling sea on so clear a night
And sailors wailed about seeing ghosts, the St Elmo's fire alight
It was then she rose like a spouting whale from the troubled sea
A fairy child with glistening skin and eyes terrible to see
The moon reached down with glowing arms and raised her like a babe
And the sea grew calm and smooth as glass, without a single wave
And we knew we'd seen a sight mortals were never meant to see
And we crossed ourselves and said a prayer as we sailed on across the silver sea
Pendragon
Thank you for starting us off. Anyone else?
Well seeing as there are only two entries, and it is kind of late, but I don't want to put off judging any longer because I have already got quite behind as things have been a bit hectic here, forgive me for not giving a detailed critique as usual. But think you both for entering.
The winner is Pendragon, I loved the haunting imagery of your poem and the fluid and elegant style. Beautifully written.
Thank you, Dark Muse!
From "Some Hallucinations" by Lewis Carrol
"He thought he saw a banker's clerk descending from a bus"
We will wait on a ending date when I see how many poems we have. :willy_nilly:
He thought he saw a banker's clerk
descending from a bus
at 5:19, just after work,
he looked like one of us;
his clothes were neat, he didn't stand out,
he slipped into the crowd;
he followed routine, there isn't a doubt,
deviation wasn't allowed.
He'd hidden himself over the years,
unnoticed like the trees,
unnoticed like the shoes one wears,
unnoticed by degrees.
Aside from this a smiling glance
would tell you of the time he had spent -
for now there isn't any chance
anyone knows where the money went.
Some More Hallucinations
He thought he saw a banker's clerk
Descending from a bus,
But now he knows that aliens
Will soon get all of us,
And though he thinks that might be bad
He doesn't make a fuss.
The last time that he told his friends
That aliens were here,
They laughed, so now he drinks alone,
Consuming Belgian beer
To wash away what's in his brain
Should aliens come near.
He should have told them bankers' clerks
Had landed over there.
They might have seen those ray guns raised.
Perhaps then they would care.
But as he lifts another glass:
"There's aliens everywhere!"