Poetry competition CLOSED 11th November 2014 11:19am
WINNER
Anonymous
sheild
RUNNERS-UP: diddi and LobodeSanPedro

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Take me into the abstract

Simplepasserby
Twisted Dreamer
United States 1awards
Joined 22nd Aug 2014
Forum Posts: 41

Poetry Contest

Absrtact poems
Write an abstract poem, not really random just one that isn't centered on one subject or, masks what its really about under complex metaphors.


Only rules is: title your poems.


Lets see what you all have. Two weeks.

HappyDOC
Lost Thinker
United States
Joined 27th Oct 2014
Forum Posts: 32

Patience Pisces primary purpose poetically progresses peoples perspective proudly past previously presented perceptions, particularly prioritizing proving profit promotes pain, people pursuiting pure passions produce progress , selfless sacrifice solves poetically progressing peoples perspective proudly past previously presented perceptions, particularly prioritizing proving profit promotes pain, peoples pure passions produce progress, selfless sacrifice solves selfishness, so simply staying selfless serves self, symbolically self sacrifice sews spiritual salvation's seeds, showing selfish souls seeing spiritual separation simply someone's self segregation, spelling the end of the illusion of separation, suddenly stories show selfish souls stop sinking spirits, slowly sending sunshine's silent soothing sacred speech saves selves, sheding society's sadness swiftly, So Saints silent self sacrifices spawn shimmering stars sharing space's spanning sky's steadily sing salvation's singular song selfless souls swirling selfish soul sicko sexual straihgt stabs shoots,staying strong shares spiritual  self sacrifice starts souls sufferings spiritually self sacrifice saving self, selfish souls started suffering so selfless souls strain so someday selfish souls serves selflessly someone suffering so selfless scars shouldnt spread suffering so self substance substances scars seek souls spreading seriously selflessness solve selfishness, self similarly stops sufferings serving  O.U.R.S.E.L.V.E.S one is the only one number of existence everything? Exactly examination everything evoked eternal evolution examining existence ending with one alwasy will remain, where will we find why is non existence ? external and internal equal everything eternally examines everything Earthlings, forgiveness for freedom from self guilt self forgave hate-hate -1--1= 0 solving spiritual self sacrifice showing sufferering serves souls as we heal hearts having love=hatexhate=love looks like 1=-1x-1=1 which is 1=1=1=love=love=love OURSELVES ONE LOVE divide those who divide us hate helps our bond grow stronger with every release reasoning returns.

HappyDOC
Lost Thinker
United States
Joined 27th Oct 2014
Forum Posts: 32

Why We Waves Watch Water When We Whole
waves weaving webs whatever way we wish within whatever ways where winds will whispers wisdom without words which wraps worry with wholeness, wholeness we were when we weren't waves, wholeness washes what was worry with warmth when wave wins wholeness wonderful war with worry, when watching water will waves wave wrongly? well why would we, when we're waves? Wow, watch while wise words written with wit will wipe worrisome whenever we watch what water whispers. whoever wishes well written word writers woe, What wonderful writing woe wishing will waken within, well without wisdom, whats within words?

poet Anonymous

Mat-a-More-Fess-ace

A gatekeeper
ectodermal of layers
nonchalantly soft, tender and smooth
 
Shades of light
infusing the sublime glow
masking shadows in concocted diffusion
 
Once adored and revered
a sub-particle of a mass macrocosm
sloughed in expansion of overindulgence
 
Now on the floor, spewed
in pallor mortis of a fine cocktail
dry and shriveled in dismal putrefaction
 
Detached from rest
an odorless unrecognizable decay
the rest of the organs recoil and shudder
 
A justifiable indignation
as hands of the clock rotate
counterclockwise, never resting on the six

diddi
StephenPaul Summerscales
Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom 42awards
Joined 18th Dec 2009
Forum Posts: 1704

Sitars And Stars  


The Indian Sitar
sounds its sliding neck
the yellow star
burns the viking deck
did I somehow
remember now
that I did know
to forget  .
balancing my mind
a constant rhyme
ageless in time
to mesmorise
closing of the eyes
I visualise
colour cloud sighs
Emerald inset  .


In control
I balanced on a pole
high up from the earth
Violins in a church
waiting for the dearth
life the phony show
sat upon the perch
if only you could know
more candles glow
for sure .



Sitars like stars
go up and down
musical clouds
buzz around
a cerebral recall
multiple times do fall
all big in space
is small
you dig
you  retrace
your haul
this life is a race
for all
to be etched
on a floating balled
two faced
revolving wall .



 

LunaObscura
Utmakalitho Petragammata
Fire of Insight
United States 5awards
Joined 2nd June 2011
Forum Posts: 655

Speak Not Of Where From We Came

I look out and find the need to seek
Dancing about, seamless
Wandering from harmony in innocence
Blazing trails that would become enemy trenches
The War to end
Ha. Oh quaint illusion

I cast out into the vapors
Haunting the phaseless aether with conceptions
Deaf to the clear tone
Now absorbed by a lower nature, the undying cornerstone

Yea, glory doth burn, always

The windows in the kingdom walls
Will bring the harvest to spoil
The one true circle will solemnly close,
It's center stranded on the other side

The fury of God shakes the dead from slumber
Lost looking for Up in anxiety, blind to refuge in the granted night
Reluctantly to master the long path of unlearning
And follow that shadow back to the source
Then looking, out of nature, in humble praise
As the demons do eye a new host

The healing bleed prescribed by evolution
Will be administered without compromise
Love need not run dry
For the echoes of our terror to die

poet Anonymous

Exordium

Through the four holes
of the brittle bones
a black river tumbles
a conundrum of wraps
crashing (a)head
          an epyllion
                  spewed
                      in a gorge
contorting
       afflictions
in deathless death
brambles catch
               remains
     
when nothing is left
      the hair
             will tell the tale

Waterviolet
Fire of Insight
Canada 4awards
Joined 14th Mar 2014
Forum Posts: 628

Some things in life come easily you know
Some thing take time
Wasting feelings washing up by the sea shore
Time is slipping thru the hour glass
Some people find a pot of gold below the rainbow
Some people spend a lifetime working there
Fingers to the bone
To the tone of a broken home
All washing up by the seaside
Pissing it all away in to a rat hole dont you know
Some times u just gota take a chance
Fire up the oxygen lance
And make a big hole
Pryay one day u wont wash up by the
Seaside

Tacete
who-isthe-silence
Twisted Dreamer
Australia 1awards
Joined 24th Nov 2013
Forum Posts: 205

Hall of Glass

Never mind peering through the windows    
nor caress their wooden frames,    
neither inhale their vaporous lacquer.    
Nary a murmur of gust passes    
through the slightest imperfections.    
It's their glass
that shatters; settling to silence.
Solemn hands collect the fragments
wicked mirror edges slither into flesh.
Lower his casket and reminisce
in the last breath of him.
What is more powerful    
than a soul that dies defiantly    
whilst clasping hands
full of shattered glass
mildly stained in their blood and yours?    
   
   
 

staggerlee
Paul Martin
Thought Provoker
Ireland 1awards
Joined 16th Nov 2013
Forum Posts: 77

Nowhere

strange things
these weeds,
swinging eerily
in a forgotten breeze,
with the moaning moon
cursing them savage eyes,
everywhere there is;
vacancy
accecptancy,
and the night is a bitch,
dispossessed filty lies
when the spiders
come out to play,
and the morning dust
never settles
they just laugh,
with their bellyfull of flies,
all you can do is praise
the glorious sun,
tie your laces,
and don’t give a damn.

Kou_Indigo
Karam L. Parveen-Ashton
Tyrant of Words
United States 69awards
Joined 15th Sep 2011
Forum Posts: 2796

Here is a link to my epic surreal poem "Demiurges of Reality". You will, I am certain, be hard placed to find a more surreal, bizarre, abstract poem rich in metaphors, symbols, and hidden meanings. It's way too big to post here in its' entirety so that's why the link.
Enjoy the trip, it is trippy in the extreme!

http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/29528-demiurges-of-reality/

diddi
StephenPaul Summerscales
Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom 42awards
Joined 18th Dec 2009
Forum Posts: 1704

Purple Train Driving Hippos    



The train
clatters on the tracks
travelling through my brain
made of candle wax


The driver is a hippo
he takes me where
I wouldn't go
he's purple
with a funny glow  
reminding me of what
I shouldn't know
winding , binding
inside coves  
igniting memory
lightning probes .


I am
who I wasn't
and I was
what I am not
all I am
is what you see
and the past
should be forgot .


Don't taunt
then bring
the gone
into everything
anylising , scrutinising
none of it's worth
realising
it's in the earth
so let it lie then
purple hippos
aren't for finding .  






diddi
StephenPaul Summerscales
Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom 42awards
Joined 18th Dec 2009
Forum Posts: 1704

The Birth Of Death A Novel Breath      

The orb of lunar salutes
another day that has yawned
the past again is mourned
owls play their dirge flutes .

The solar flare
quenches a night
a polar bear
dons a blinding white .

An end can only begin
after the start
we exist within .
Some of us awake
in one hemisphere
some of us retire in another
both orbs are clear
upon the mother
do you fear
leaving our dear
spherical brother .

We all live in supposition
and self pollution
no one can give
an unsolved solution .
Consumption of religion
a theory an assumption
a million doctrines
without a single conclusion
to the unknown and its fear
the only thing thats clear
is cluttered confusion  .

There is no end
to a day or a life
to a stones path
through infinity
to a stars destiny .

We can't touch a begining
nor can we feel the torch beam
glowing
we can't see where it ends up going
do we see a dead oars man rowing
within a stagnant sea thats flowing
within a typhoon that isn't blowing
under a dead sun that beats a glowing .
You'd say of course not
that can't happen
I would say well what does in lifes interim .

You can't hear the birth of death
the coming of a novel breath
the future is mute
and we are deaf.


diddi
StephenPaul Summerscales
Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom 42awards
Joined 18th Dec 2009
Forum Posts: 1704

To Walk With Lightning    
             

Heads
are turning
as the ground
is burning                          
where am I going
I don't know
but I'm floating  
eyes of crystal
they are looking
I think I'm lifting  
chapter closing

what is this place
with many
a stone face                          

this is the end
my friend
no more life race .    

Lightning of fork          

walk

with me .

it's time to die
it's time to leave                
the eagles eye
is stalking me
he doesn't fly
nor do I breathe .
your third eye
is how to see

lightning of fork

walk

with me .  

                         

Spiney
charges
step cracks
through
the sky
but there
is no thunder
and I don't
wonder why
as all the
numbers
subtracted
to die
I'm a Hawk
gliding over
the striding
night

lightning of fork

walk

with me

let's charge over
electrically

lightning of fork
turn me to a sheet
so

I shine brightly

before

I leave .













 



Kou_Indigo
Karam L. Parveen-Ashton
Tyrant of Words
United States 69awards
Joined 15th Sep 2011
Forum Posts: 2796

--- A Far and Distant Morn ---

Part One: The Temple On the Plains
Across a landscape of fertile plains, there rode a hardy pilgrim bound,
To seek an ancient temple, wherein secret knowledge could be found.
There rose the columns tall and proud, the tall roof a pyramid formed,
By the hands of those who loved and labored in a far and distant morn.
What craft they had, and skill to labor with all their hearts set thereon,
The pilgrim knew all too well such dedication, and how hard it is won.
A widow's son was he, like many another, and his soul did hotly yearn,
To touch the face of a beauty pure, and feel a passion forever to burn.
Thus came he to the temple on the plains, and past the columns swift,
His sandals echoing upon the carven stones, across a bridge over a rift.
Past statues of gods forgotten by men, their gold faded in ages lost...
There walked the widow's son with purpose, for he had paid the cost.
Not cheaply comes enlightenment, but dearly purchased not with coin;
Thusly, is the price of wisdom and knowledge we all pay 'ere our time!

Part Two: The Eye in The Pyramid
An altar lit by candles three did the pilgrim behold in the temple's heart,
He stopped to light them one by one, like a craftsman plying his old art.
Then did shine a beam of light from above, bathing his form in pure gold,
Casting away the lines of years, restoring him and making him grow bold.
From whence came that light, he determined himself to discover for sure,
And soon he was upon the stairs that did wind up the temple's very core.
From the back-most to the front-most, the stairs took him in their ascent...
Until the pilgrim thought he walked above the clouds and the firmament.
Finally, he passed through doors of bronze, with copper opening rings...
And there the pilgrim stood, within a room fit for the most ancient kings.
Where in the ceiling was a hole within which a crystal was set like an eye,
The eye within that pyramid, looked down unblinking from a distant sky.
What name could he give to the hands that wrought this; none known...
For as the hourglass passes its' sands down, ages are made and undone.

Part Three: A Dance with Divinity
Below the eye was a hole in the floor, and that the source of the beam,
Which had restored the pilgrim after his hard journey or so it all did seem!
Whilst upon a throne at the eastern wall, a maiden dressed in white sat,
More a child than a maid, with a massive tome held gently upon her lap.
The pilgrim laid his hand upon the tome, and knelt in reverence profound,
Unspoken prayers on his lips, he did the goddess honor without a sound.
Casting the book aside, she drew him to the west where they did dance,
The pilgrim and she, to music unheard, almost like children in their prance.
Younger he grew, or older she, until as one they were in age and grace...
Whilst some heavenly light did shine about the girl; laughter in her face.
The pair danced until night fell, and the maiden bid the pilgrim farewell...
For it was now her sister's time, and so she descended the long stairwell.
Closing behind her the doors to the secret chamber, with surprising might,
That shook the pilgrim from his reverie, and made thusly clearer his sight.

Part Four: From Day to Night
Rising up from the hole in the floor, born on a cloud of darkness soft, pure,
Was a queenly lady as dark as the shimmering black gown that she wore.
Her face ageless and perfect, as the younger maid whom she succeeded,
Captivating to the pilgrim, as he found himself drawn wherever needed...
This time into the arms of this velvet queen, whose soft embrace was bliss!
She brought him eastward, where they danced, and just as often to kiss.
And great was their rapture, wrapt as they were in the stars of midnight,
Until the coming of the dawn, when the time appointed was for sunlight...
And so it was that the pilgrim found himself alone, upon the quiet throne,
Until a knocking at the closed chamber doors led him to open them wide...
Admitting a woman that reminded him of himself into the old secret room,
Her eyes, closed before, now did cast aside the darkness and the gloom.
And so a pilgrim became a king, and a queen found her way unto his side,
In the temple on the plains they made their home, and to this day abide.

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