Poetry competition CLOSED 3rd February 2015 6:31pm
WINNER
Anonymous
Anonymous
RUNNERS-UP:
RavenofSorrow
and Kou_Indigo
Trippy
Poetry Contest Description
The name says it all, i wanna see some upside-down, backwards unicorn walkin' upside down type shit
Old or new
400-word limit
4 poem limit (if you're feeling froggy)
No collabs
Bonus points for humor
Bonus points for alliteration,
in moderation
400-word limit
4 poem limit (if you're feeling froggy)
No collabs
Bonus points for humor
Bonus points for alliteration,
in moderation
here you go man..
Electric Lady Land
There’s a place I go inside my head
When on the inner paths I tread
When my eyelids turn to led
And I sink into my bed
Pulsating pictures point the way
As I drift by purple pelican bay
where fully flavored gum trees sway
and lickable liquorish leeches lay
I dived into a sea of dreams
In a yellow submarine
A thousand miles past Pepperland
I came to a shore of purple sand
Where drifting dreamers in a daze
Were not the slightest bit amazed
to see bicycling butterflies
Gliding past them towards the sky
I wandered through a fractal forest
To the big rock candy mountains
Eventually I came to rest
By a cascading crystal fountain
In its clear and jeweled waters
An angels face reflected there
With a rainbow row of flowers
Placed within her silver hair
But as I turned around
She was nowhere to be found
Somewhere trees were falling down
But they never made a sound
There’s gold at the bottom of the well
where devilish dooly doppers dwell
They spend their spare time racing snails
On the backs of turtle shells
Cellophane sorcerers seal seven secrets in pristine prismic pyramids
and place their cryptic scriptures on the wall where shiny silver beetles crawl
Electric ladys lounge near a lagoon of liquid light as laughing leprechauns chase speedy sprites
I watched a circus show that featured flying purple people eaters
And alien acrobats turning somersaults and wintersaults
without ever coming to a halt
I sat with Humpty on a bench
And told him "None of this makes sense"
He replied with a sudden burst of laughter
"does it even really matter?"
I said" maybe not but anyway
I must be off I cannot stay.
I haven't much more time for play
Ill come again some other day."
So I caught a flight with Mr. Kite
Until the land was out of sight
I opened my eyes at 6:15
And couldn't quite remember where id been
Electric Lady Land
There’s a place I go inside my head
When on the inner paths I tread
When my eyelids turn to led
And I sink into my bed
Pulsating pictures point the way
As I drift by purple pelican bay
where fully flavored gum trees sway
and lickable liquorish leeches lay
I dived into a sea of dreams
In a yellow submarine
A thousand miles past Pepperland
I came to a shore of purple sand
Where drifting dreamers in a daze
Were not the slightest bit amazed
to see bicycling butterflies
Gliding past them towards the sky
I wandered through a fractal forest
To the big rock candy mountains
Eventually I came to rest
By a cascading crystal fountain
In its clear and jeweled waters
An angels face reflected there
With a rainbow row of flowers
Placed within her silver hair
But as I turned around
She was nowhere to be found
Somewhere trees were falling down
But they never made a sound
There’s gold at the bottom of the well
where devilish dooly doppers dwell
They spend their spare time racing snails
On the backs of turtle shells
Cellophane sorcerers seal seven secrets in pristine prismic pyramids
and place their cryptic scriptures on the wall where shiny silver beetles crawl
Electric ladys lounge near a lagoon of liquid light as laughing leprechauns chase speedy sprites
I watched a circus show that featured flying purple people eaters
And alien acrobats turning somersaults and wintersaults
without ever coming to a halt
I sat with Humpty on a bench
And told him "None of this makes sense"
He replied with a sudden burst of laughter
"does it even really matter?"
I said" maybe not but anyway
I must be off I cannot stay.
I haven't much more time for play
Ill come again some other day."
So I caught a flight with Mr. Kite
Until the land was out of sight
I opened my eyes at 6:15
And couldn't quite remember where id been
Scorpio Rising
The red desert floor reaches endlessly
like an ocean of sand.
The heat is getting to me -
I start to trip.
I see Scorpio rising,
watching me with his twinkling, starlit eyes.
He impales me with his stinger
injecting me with his visions.
I see
the Great Dragon of old
breathing fire arcoss the night sky,
burning out weaker stars, leaving them in his wake.
He is here to teach a lesson to all mankind.
Scorpio, brother to the Great Dragon,
has brought me to this place
on a quest.
Before me stands a door, ajar.
Behind it, a thousand virgins dressed in black,
white porcelain skin, crimson painted lips
they speak in unison
in a language I don't understand.
Standing on a hilltop, Scorpio
points towards the horizon
where I see giant scorpions,
their stingers like daggers.
He says 'they are here to cure the folly of man
who eats up the vomit spewed by corporate America and the media.
Their venom is
the cure to all those who are blinded.'
Then I see a great eye of fire
unblinking, drinking in all that has unfolded from now
back to the beginning of time.
Scorpio whispers in my ear
'you're on a long and treacherous journey.
Watch your footing in this desert land.
I'll be looking in on you from time to time.'
My eyes ease open
as if awoken from a dream.
Left with a deep impression of Scorpio rising,
I shake loose the cotton from my head
and open my mind.
The red desert floor reaches endlessly
like an ocean of sand.
The heat is getting to me -
I start to trip.
I see Scorpio rising,
watching me with his twinkling, starlit eyes.
He impales me with his stinger
injecting me with his visions.
I see
the Great Dragon of old
breathing fire arcoss the night sky,
burning out weaker stars, leaving them in his wake.
He is here to teach a lesson to all mankind.
Scorpio, brother to the Great Dragon,
has brought me to this place
on a quest.
Before me stands a door, ajar.
Behind it, a thousand virgins dressed in black,
white porcelain skin, crimson painted lips
they speak in unison
in a language I don't understand.
Standing on a hilltop, Scorpio
points towards the horizon
where I see giant scorpions,
their stingers like daggers.
He says 'they are here to cure the folly of man
who eats up the vomit spewed by corporate America and the media.
Their venom is
the cure to all those who are blinded.'
Then I see a great eye of fire
unblinking, drinking in all that has unfolded from now
back to the beginning of time.
Scorpio whispers in my ear
'you're on a long and treacherous journey.
Watch your footing in this desert land.
I'll be looking in on you from time to time.'
My eyes ease open
as if awoken from a dream.
Left with a deep impression of Scorpio rising,
I shake loose the cotton from my head
and open my mind.
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
- The Isle of Snugglindon -
On the Isle of Snugglindon, upon the forest floor,
The silly little wugglebugs, are scurrying around.
“Oh, if I only had a brain!” they’ll say once more,
When those silly bugs, deem to make a sound.
But no one ever hears those wugglebugs play…
Most ignore the dens they’ll build in summer.
High above, the mak-mak birds fly, every day,
Saying: “We must mak-mak our nests!” sure…
And when you hear these birds calling, loudly,
You might forget those furry rarglesnarfs close.
As they lumber through the woods, proudly,
Hunting honey in the buzzy trees by the coasts.
“Oh, I am so fierce and furry!” they’ll say to all…
So the bees drop their honeycombs, flying far!
The rarglesnarf is delighted to see the prize fall,
Whilst mother moon laughs, tickling every star.
And there: telling woodchuck jokes in shade…
Of bigawig trees, sits a wise ancient hermit crab.
He knows the names of every animal God made,
And he recites them before bed, slightly mad!
Often pirates come to search for treasure,
But when they say “Arrrgh!” they have to run…
Lest those rarglesnarfs catch them with pleasure,
To tickle them into revealing: their barrels of rum.
Now the wookisnooks bring whisky and yell:
“Uz me, uz you!” and sing wookisnook songs.
The critters drink until they dream after night fell,
Until the ringing: of the morning gongs.
Within the trees, where the gong-ringers live,
Fur-balls with arms and legs strong and long.
It is they: who make whisky that they give,
To the wookisnooks: in return for a game of pong.
And once every seven moons, to cries of loons,
The creatures of Snugglindon hold their party.
With stumbles, swoons, and hungry raccoons,
They drink ‘till they drop and feast hearty!
Where, a navigator might ask himself…
Oh where is uncharted Snugglindon?
I’ve heard there lives many an enchanted elf,
On that island, where strange critters dwell upon!
You’ll not find it on maps: nor by taking catnaps,
And certainly it can’t be found by swimming off.
You could swim for laps until all strength saps,
Or, you could simply ask the average gargleboff!
But since they only live on the isle you seek,
There is one way to be certain you’ll arrive.
Why not ask: any child, on any day of the week?
They’ll happily tell you where the critters thrive!
On the Isle of Snugglindon, upon the forest floor,
The silly little wugglebugs, are scurrying around.
“Oh, if I only had a brain!” they’ll say once more,
When those silly bugs, deem to make a sound.
But no one ever hears those wugglebugs play…
Most ignore the dens they’ll build in summer.
High above, the mak-mak birds fly, every day,
Saying: “We must mak-mak our nests!” sure…
And when you hear these birds calling, loudly,
You might forget those furry rarglesnarfs close.
As they lumber through the woods, proudly,
Hunting honey in the buzzy trees by the coasts.
“Oh, I am so fierce and furry!” they’ll say to all…
So the bees drop their honeycombs, flying far!
The rarglesnarf is delighted to see the prize fall,
Whilst mother moon laughs, tickling every star.
And there: telling woodchuck jokes in shade…
Of bigawig trees, sits a wise ancient hermit crab.
He knows the names of every animal God made,
And he recites them before bed, slightly mad!
Often pirates come to search for treasure,
But when they say “Arrrgh!” they have to run…
Lest those rarglesnarfs catch them with pleasure,
To tickle them into revealing: their barrels of rum.
Now the wookisnooks bring whisky and yell:
“Uz me, uz you!” and sing wookisnook songs.
The critters drink until they dream after night fell,
Until the ringing: of the morning gongs.
Within the trees, where the gong-ringers live,
Fur-balls with arms and legs strong and long.
It is they: who make whisky that they give,
To the wookisnooks: in return for a game of pong.
And once every seven moons, to cries of loons,
The creatures of Snugglindon hold their party.
With stumbles, swoons, and hungry raccoons,
They drink ‘till they drop and feast hearty!
Where, a navigator might ask himself…
Oh where is uncharted Snugglindon?
I’ve heard there lives many an enchanted elf,
On that island, where strange critters dwell upon!
You’ll not find it on maps: nor by taking catnaps,
And certainly it can’t be found by swimming off.
You could swim for laps until all strength saps,
Or, you could simply ask the average gargleboff!
But since they only live on the isle you seek,
There is one way to be certain you’ll arrive.
Why not ask: any child, on any day of the week?
They’ll happily tell you where the critters thrive!
