Poetry competition CLOSED 27th April 2014 9:36am
WINNER
HadesRising
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RUNNERS-UP: crimsin and PsychicApocalypse

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Who has the most sinister mind, spirt, and soul?

Mz_Fallen_Angel
Lost Thinker
United States
Joined 19th Apr 2014
Forum Posts: 11

Poetry Contest

This competition is for people who have a dark, twisted mind, spirt, and of course soul.
Feel free to express yourself. Im looking for the darkest most sinister poetic man/woman out there! The poems must be at least +200 characters long. Everybody is welcomed. PLEASE, no complaints about comments. I have no control over that human being. If you do win (which people will vote whos was the best)....you will be crowned "Most Sinister poet online."
P.S. This is for fun so enjoy yourself! May the odds be in your favor!

poet Anonymous

http://i1072.photobucket.com/albums/w371/missysub/BE0A6BE8-F176-4303-90BB-2CFEF9CF0666_zpshvlykwdd.jpg

The ballad of Sarah-Jane

They had forgotten
to make you a matching pair  
of those deep green eyes,
your period dress frozen in time
the white laces on each tiny shoe
remained untied  
 
and I was once jealous
of your porcelain skin,  
the lack of effort needed
to stay thin and crinkle free  
while immortality lay
effortlessly in your wake
 
there was no need
to attract the boys,  
and protect your heart
from thieves, who
seduced by your beauty  
would revel in your timeless gaze.  
 
You just remained, attached and enslaved  
as if reality was just too much to bare-
maybe you were crippled
by worldly pain,  
became catatonic
and never awoke again  
 
Oh Sarah-Jane, my spiteful light is in  
your one remaining eye; your teacup fists
your perfectly smooth hair,
your pouting lips
and our spirits reside
locked inside this claustrophobic world  
 
and will forever remain  
with heart felt matching curls.

HarleyQuinn
Riah
Thought Provoker
South Africa 4awards
Joined 2nd Mar 2014
Forum Posts: 98

Is there a limit to how many entries we can make?

fret
Lost Thinker
New Zealand 1awards
Joined 27th Aug 2009
Forum Posts: 39

Spiral cuts,
notice me,
an end of her
tied to a tree,
the other four,
fingers, toes,
nails hammered,
when flesh froze,

Can you see me,
blinkered cows?
See the anger
you arouse?

Hands didn't bleed,
that's the trick,
not a drop,
I made her lick
Tied her tight,
took her eyes,
her tongue too,
to stop the lies.

That was hard,
Nearly did it last,
with mangled screams
I tire fast.
They don't haunt me
or disappoint,
but if she can't beg,
then what's the point?

Took her skin,
laid it about,
tapped her bones,
sucked the marrow out,
licked my lips,
pinkish grin,
parted legs
to let me in,

Down I went,
on bended knee,
set the heat gun
up to three,
up it went,
with screaming too,
I almost wish
I could pity you.

Burns are artwork,
burns are life,
I knew them first,
before my knife,
The gun comes out,
its nozzle stuck,
down comes the dewer
from my truck.

"Frozen", you said,
your favourite movie,
if it's frozen you want,
that's as shall be,
The funnel fumes
with harmless mist,
as inside, your organs
will be kissed,
with liquid coldfire,
dry and wet,
pumped up inside you,
my frozen pet.

My parting gift,
though you cannot see,
is to hang hot water
from the tree,
for I cannot have
your life expire
until they see
my heart's desire.

poet Anonymous

Freedom (as it were)

They're growing bigger and smaller
while the world spins disaster
labels are so old fashioned when
things keep getting faster

beyond the rabbit hole and down through the sky
the nails hammered in their coffins sound like
ticking clocks in an empty time
born to die a death not live a life

fenced and pastured before the long winter
like the inevitable slaughter is a conspiracy theory
eat me and drink me signs now assumed legitimate
nothing bad can come from a promise and a bankbook

as the plates shift underground and the core burns
always a little hotter
vanishing relatives from the tree of life as the leaves fall
burden laden to an angry earth

answers hanging from every particle
too many to count as useful as the last souls whimper
into a submission unsurpassed by any civilization prior
the first slaves born to say thank you for providing

the longer they're blindly signing their names
closing their senses in lieu of false assurances
the more I'd like to press the button
send the ending a little sooner


MadameLavender
Guardian of Shadows
United States 86awards
Joined 17th Feb 2013
Forum Posts: 5593

http://i425.photobucket.com/albums/pp333/LisaM0214/IMG_3563-Copy_zpsf0d8ac50.jpg
(Photo from my own collection, Mt. Auburn Cemetery, Cambridge Ma)


The Devil’s Secretary


When the pins behind my eyes
Start pricking, pricking, pricking,
The dark mask draws down
And gray thoughts come thickening.

Like thunderheads blown
On the wind, wind, wind—
I unsheathe my nails
To begin the dig at my skin.

The floodgate released
And blood flows, flows, flows;
A wave of red
To the place I must go:

The walk among the graves
In silence, gives, gives, gives,
A connection to those
Who no longer live.

Ah, they’re beautiful—
Don’t you see? Don’t you see?
All of my friends here
Waiting for me.

Eliza, this time,
I’ll lay me down, down, down
At your headstone atop
The old Victorian ground.

I’ll dig my hands in
To your dirt, dirt, dirt
Where I’ll touch your white bones
And there’s no more hurt.

Your silver cord’s cut
From your soul, gone of old;
Oh Eliza, today,
You’ve made me feel whole.

I’ll document this with care
Yes you’ll see, yes you’ll see—
Like I’ve done the others, proud,
As your Devil’s Secretary.

crimsin
Unveiling
Tyrant of Words
United States 120awards
Joined 25th Jan 2011
Forum Posts: 2608

Deleted

poet Anonymous

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Mz_Fallen_Angel
Lost Thinker
United States
Joined 19th Apr 2014
Forum Posts: 11

No you can right as much as u want

poet Anonymous

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poet Anonymous

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poet Anonymous

Am into this

poet Anonymous

Wait 'til you see me touch the heavens

Mz_Fallen_Angel
Lost Thinker
United States
Joined 19th Apr 2014
Forum Posts: 11

if you see a poem you like please say you like it. so far im loving the poems there perfect. thanks

poet Anonymous

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