Picture Poetry Contest (...continued...)

[lucidnightmares]

agreed with autolycus
i`m anxious to see the next contest

[Pendragon]

Perhaps this is a better picture for poetry... Deadline 15th of September

[ampoule]

Congratulations Pen!!

[Pendragon]

Congratulations Pen!!

Thanks, Lady Amp!

[Pendragon]

I'm sensing hostility here. Apparently, others did not agree with my poem as the winner. Fine. Someone else choose a bloody picture!

[autolycus]

Why's there hostility? *grin* It's not as if I've favoured Pen in the past; it's just that if nobody wanted to make the decision, I made it on grounds which I've stated.

I will say that there are poems which some might deem more poetic, poems perhaps more profound or stylistically maybe more beautiful, but I still think Pen's poem was most appropriate for the picture.

YMMV, but as I said before, and as Pen seems to agree, that was a provisional verdict. Nobody disagreed, we moved on.

Sometimes I think we've moved to become a society that doesn't like to disagree openly. It manifests in the news media, in classrooms, in 'civil society' – we seek to portray balance, no winners or losers, everything fair, everyone has a say. But that's not always a good thing. Sometimes, there is no balance; sometimes, people are wrong; sometimes, there are losers; sometimes there cannot be fairness without inequity.

Ah well. Why don't we just look at the picture Pen put up, realise that it's a good iconic picture, and work at it? Surely we are all poets.

[AdoreroDio]

Since no one else seems inclined to start, I will.

The Winter Rabbit

Winter winds slammed doors
and rushed people
to warm fires
cold cut into intruders' skin
into all those who dared
dared be outside
another inside day
the animals too
hid from the harsh blast
as icy snow drifted to the floor
in flurries
the trees bent against the wind
and froze
captured in the moment
bowing to nature
and to its guest
a grim figure
that swept through
the snowy drift
searching for its next victim
the woods were silent
all stayed clear of winter's
unkindly accomplice
the one who searched
and found none
for all feared the chilly death
all but one
a single hare
white as the snow
stirred in the path
warm within its coat
at home in the soft snow
not afraid of winters blast
and stepping in the path
of death itself
it paused
and gazed at the cloaked figure
which almost disappeared
in the background
cloaked and hidden
and ice spread around it
killing any thing in its circle
and freezing the branches
but the hare did not comprehend
who or what
stood before it
it did not know the fear of death
as did the humans
or the less clothed animals
winter was its home
ice and snow
were not terrors
Death paused in its path
and stared at this unlikely animal
that had no fear
no terror or respect
it stared into the eyes
of the little rabbit
that sat in its path
and for the first time
paused
and did not step
did not kill
as it was accustomed
but paused
what was this
that made death pause?
and that death held no terror in
just a rabbit?
and for the first time
death saw life
and life that did not fear death
and saw no reason to destroy it
this thing that was so brave
and if not brave
so delicate
and so the scythe dropped
and in that winter night
death dyed
and the first green of spring
came in the morning
and the frost disappeared
and warmth
beckoned the people
out of hiding
out of fear
because of the rabbit
that loved winter

[Pendragon]

Thanks for a truly beautiful start, AndyDio!

[alakungfu]

The Fell Stroke

Death winnows the wide-eyed
Since the rabbit defied
And scrapped the numbed lots
Of the dangling knots,
Their weighty cadence,

Disguised crumbling leaves,
Dredged from the eaves
To escort the grim stride
From the Great Divide,
Primordial Sense.

[barbara0207]

The sight of fearless bunny made me smile, so I thought I'd go for a funny sonnet in tetrameters:

Bunny and the Reaper

The Reaper, playing with his tool,
swinging his scythe from side to side,
sings softly, "I'm nobody's fool",
his hood over his face doth slide
as he is dancing to his rhythm,
the tree's boughs curling with surprise
and the dead leaves dancing with 'im,
when suddenly li'l Bunny cries,
"Uncle, what's that there thing thou hast?",
oblivious of the jeopardy.
The Reaper starts, and he seems crest-
fallen, flees in agony.

And the moral of the story?

Frighten Death and live in glory!

Hm, the indentation of the couplet didn't work out the way I wanted to have it. Can't help it.

[schadenfreude]

Hello everyone,
I apoplogise for failing to judge the previous contest. Unfortunately, several events came up and my mind has been so occupied lately that I've completely forgotten about this contest. I know that is a weak excuse and I am sorry for the confusion and hassle that I've caused.

I'm extremely grateful to Pen for taking charge of the situation. I dread to think that I was almost responsible for this long-enduring thread fading into oblivion. Many thanks, Pen! (Fantastic picture, by the way)

I apologise once more,
Schad.

[lucidnightmares]

as death lay dormant neath the trees
it dreamt of pain and misery
"oh what will they beseech from me?
to love and live with family?"

a chuckle begins beneath his shroud
starting quiet and growing loud
as it looks t`ward heaven`s pathetic clouds
and wonders if entrance would be allowed

to take an angel by it`s wings
and show it earths disgusting kings
for whom he has been pulling strings
and take joy in the dirge the angels sings

and deaths triumphant dream did cease
though it didn`t mind in the least
for from life`s grasp he would release
all the world and bring it peace

deaths head rose slightly, stopped and stared
towards two tiny eyes that seemed prepared
to accept what death was willing to share
to ascend the darkness of eternal stairs

deaths head tilted, confused and dazed
"this mortal, in deaths presence, unfazed?
does it not know of the lifes i have razed?"
all this time the tiny eyes remained glazed

two tiny eyes staring out
as death itself began to shout
"is it my powers you doubt?
the candle of eternity i have snuffed out!"

it touched a tree, watched it wither
and ask the eyes to come hither
no response from the eyes placed death in a dither
and to the eyes death did slither

with a rotting hand death touched the eyes
of a fiber glass rabbit, to deaths surprise
had no reaction so death surmised
it must be a god, and said his goodbyes...

[Il Penseroso]

Unfathomed shape treading a misty trail,
bloodhound that makes no sound following souls,
with icicled hood, at each step, full sail,
the reaper stiffens victims, filling holes.
His scythe, winter’s slicing metallic vein,
rattles as it falls still limbs white with snow,
scattering the cold interwoven skein
from boughs rankled as their raw fibers show.
Grim advocate for what is seldom known,
that life's form is like a spiral seashell,
a tunnel in which crystal clouds are blown
as faint memories of a rhythmic knell
to land, dissolve in dust, and sprout anew
warmth in colors by a petal outgrew.

[mazHur]

Little Bunny

Go away, little bunny,
turn your face away from me;
Let me mind my business,
you yours;
Stare not at my dress,
Nor bewilder at my gait;
My instrument may frighten you
but don't
It's not your turn yet
nor am here for you;
Go away, little bunny,
nibble at the green grass,
crimson carrots and have fun;
Presently am in hurry
and will get back to you
upon your turn;
The old ***** is pregnant
and i am quite perplexed
what justice should I impart to her?
She has already seen her time
but the baby in her womb not;
But my religion doesn't know
pity for old, young or sick;
I just follow the orders
of the High Command;
Well, am I supposed to tell
you all this?
A day will come when you will come
to know;
know how I stealthily come
and finish off my prey
in a jiffy;
Go away, little bunny,
your name is not on the list
but,,,,,remember,
keep this meeting with me
confidential
so that no body can figure out
my countenance and composure;
I fly with time and swim in space;
nothing , yes nothing can prevent me
from doing what i am wont to do;
I am a taker as well as a giver
of a life for life
enveloped in a world
beyond this world;
People dread me
call me names
but I may appear to be brutal
but i rid living things from their miseries,
take them to the cove of eternal bliss;
Oh, no, there's no such thing as hell;
That's just a hoax for men
to refrain them from exploiting women
and other fellow men;
Good or bad, all ends up
in eternal life,
a life unseen by you
yet a time of beautiful spring
and summer,
no winters to freeze your heart;
Adious! dear bunny, let us now part
to meet at the destined time
i promise I will be kinder to you
and rid you of your amazement
with the gift of eternal bliss-
the Death.

[ampoule]

Perhaps this is a better picture for poetry... Deadline 15th of September

Narrow...Escape, That Is

Such big death hovers over me,
So black it cannot show its face.
I listen, alert, I watch unblinking,
My hair raises, my skin shivers
at the feel of your slinging sickle.
Death missed, death left, death leftover,
Your roots are frozen there
But I can change directions.

ampoule, September Fourth, TwoThousandEight