Poetry competition CLOSED 8th June 2016 4:10pm
WINNER
mysteriouslady
View Profile Poems by mysteriouslady
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RUNNER-UP: calamitygin

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A House On Sticks

OxyMoronicMe
G.L.
Dangerous Mind
Philippines 24awards
Joined 15th Feb 2016
Forum Posts: 1470

LIFELINE

Regrets
(They Never Gave Me Flowers)


More than thirty years
I lived on this earth
I thought of things
That I have yet to experience

As I mentally recall
Pain shot thru my heart
A single tear falls
Before my brown hazy eyes

I have never received
A single flower, let alone a bouquet
No one thought to give me
Not even my boyfriends

No one asked me for a date
To watch a movie
To eat in candle lit table
To walk in the park...

Never received chocolate
Not even a candy
Nor a loveletter
From some admirer

The list goes on
And I stopped to think
Romance never graced
My home for three decades

I never minded before
But today, I crave the thought
Of a hand to hold and a lips to kiss
And a heart to give me all of those things...

Memories
(The Other Side)


I was raised in a world of diverse lifestyle
One moment I was surrounded by people whose faith
Bordered on religious fanaticism,  Hardline christians and morally uptight
With set rules on how to live life...
Church on Sundays, grace before and after meals,
Angelus at Six pm - Monotonous... Habitual...
I doubted if it would really mean salvation on the afterlife.

Another moment I was hoisted in a world of politics.
Where intrigues and dirty tricks shower my conscious mind
Where needy people comes in every color
Where politician's allegiance changes like a chameleon
Where good deeds and bad intentions sync in harmony
All in the name of public service
I doubted if those Honorables means what they'd promised.

For a time I found myself on the opposite side
Holding placards on the streets
Cursing the government,  the superpowers, the capitalist, the imperialist
Lamenting for the flight of the oppressed
The farmers, the workers, the students
And all those who suffer injustices at o the hands of the authorities
I even held arms, learned to shoot a gun and was ready to die for the cause I believed in.

But my family holds an important place in my heart
I returned home for their own peace of mind
For a while, I was aimless
Unsure where I should belong
Carcinogen became my lover
Liquor, my bestfriend
My world stopped and became stagnant.

I am who I am
Became the me that I am
Because of the things I've done
In the past, my present stood
In my present, the future hoped
Remembering what had been
Lighting the path of the rest of my travel.

Breaking Point
( Tattoo On My Arms)


Fads, peer pressure,
Pure pleasure, wanton abandon
Indulgence, bored indifference
All of the above, I gave onto

Gin addiction, night life
Men, money, controlled substance
Pseudo smiles, bleeding inside
Reality check, I can't go into

Decisions made, hardened resolve
In front of a fourteen inch black and white T.V.
Drinking gin to numb the pain
A needle in a dynamo pierced my left arm with waves and curves

Black ink marked me for life
Reminding me of who I really am
And as the wound heals, so did I
I walked away.

Starting Over
( Standing Tall on my Four Feet Ten Inches Height)


Ready, set, go, run!
That's what I did.
To pick up myself
And break free from the detour
Of the road to destruction.

Accepting the hands
Of those who was willing
To pull me up
To push me hard
I found the path at last

When the time had come
To swim on my own
To brave the current
And weather the storms
My limbs keep me afloat

On my own two feet
I stood tall and proud
I can do it!
I can make it!
I believe, I accept!

Journey
(Walking Through A Straight Line)


And now, here I am
In the mids of my life
My eyes bespectacled
Yet everything looks clearer

Cobwebs gone from my head
Doubts took a sick leave
My heart repaired
And free of aches

My backpack is ready
Less heavy, more complete
Baggage packed
I am travelling lightly

Where I am going
The road has opened
No more fork roads
No more crossroads

Wherever I would go
Whichever path I walk thru
There would be no going back
Only choice is to move forward

There'll be rough roads
There'll be humps and bumps
But no matter what
My journey would never stop

Until the end of the line
Until the lit of my lifeline died
I'll move forward with pride
Knowing that all I was, is all that I am.

Inside of me a fire burns
Fueling my renewed vigor
I knew now, I owe the world
And not the other way around.

My journey,
My deeds,
My life,
It counts.

©Oxy2016Dup
All Rights Reserved

Artemios
Thought Provoker
Greece 12awards
Joined 11th Jan 2016
Forum Posts: 393

Too boy for all

The taxi driver was waiting outside of the school
he picked me and my sister up and driven us to my mother’s bar.
The coffee was ready and I run to the hairdresser's to leave it.
Her daughter, my first love, my first kiss, both eight years old,
she and I, a perfect cycle tie, two hands together, breeze like a dream.

My father always away in a work trip, Europe, Asia, around the sea,
my mother serving Johnnie Walker with ice, fresh oblivion drops,
grandmother, blonde hair, same food every day, a secret cigarette.

The cup of the coffee was hot, my little legs were thin
I fell on the street and I was smart to win three stiches on my hand palm.
Just cried a bit, an X-man did the thing, plastic muscles brought me the joy.
This day was going to change what I was calling “my life”
playing, kissing, dreaming of my new teeth after breaking them upon a tree.

Even if my willy was still covered with skin, the hairdresser’s girl
was turning me on when we were eating together ice-cream.
This night, after my stiches became part of my jerking off hand,
the telephone rung and the darkness woke up
my mother’s ear entered in fear, to hear that the bar caught fire.

This drunken man, in love with my mom, threw a bottle of alcohol
on the gas stove, winter is dangerous for Rum without coke.

All that was left was asses, burned memories, and a spider on my arm,
never saw again the hairdresser’s girl, the boy I was, the rip of mind.

I was too boy to be depressed, I was too boy to be in love,
I was too boy to go away, I was too boy to sing a song,
I was too boy to be alone, now I know I am not that boy at all.

My hair are almost grey, my beard and my smile are shouting gay
all these years, the flames of the bar are warming up my worries
all these years, the flames of the bar are bringing up the wind my choice
all these years, the fire of the bar are babying up my fall
but my willy hand will always remind me of the boy that once was for all.



ps** It was written for dear Jen´s comp. but it´s not that old. It´s actually last week´s poem (no winner poem) but as it is an old memory of mine, I thought to share it here as well.

poet Anonymous

Art, absolutely,  its perfectly acceptable...thank you!
Oxy, super nice to see your work here, thanks :)

poet Anonymous

Gotta Let It Go

There's an invisible monster I run from
a constant awareness of my vulnerability
nearly cripples me
the threat of capture keeps me clawing along

memories of that prison in hell
locked inside myself
wont allow me to underestimate the enemy
though the anxiety remains relentless

when the inevitable thoughts of my inadequacy
or how reality hurts hits me
I can't dwell and the spaces in my head
are no longer for rent

there are those who can't stand me
lies spread that are just sad
I've been condemned without trial
but my head has to say goodbye  

I have to live my life
build something meaningful
with those who do know and love me
I deserve a rest in arms that don't intend
to crush or restrain me

out in that black abyss of aching nothingness
lost in the chemical imbalance of dead while alive
nobody knows how far you've gone
and you're in it alone until death or survival

I have to allow my resignation
my separation from what always hurts
and the people who should but don't
love me

I once lost my mind, my freedom
my dignity
and my time is passing quickly
i'm holding on barely

I'm sewn and bolted back together
I've been told few truths and only the floor
has always been there for me
but I'm here and I'm worthy

and I'm done with letting the undeserving
hurt me

poet Anonymous

Miki, good to read your work again, thank you for entering in the comp.

KyleL29
SilentShadeofGray
Strange Creature
United States
Joined 26th May 2016
Forum Posts: 13

"A Mesquite August"

A continental flight heralded our return
Upon ten-thousand feet the color of the ground
Slowly would spectrum from green to a kind of
Yellowish-burnt-brown
The smell of burning mesquite and oil-fields
Would waft the atmosphere
Smelling of sulfur and methane
The visual acuity of the landscape remained alien
As our drive through would always render
Compared from seeing it up on high
At last we would typically arrive
Around the blazoned evening hours
Just before the dusk began to shine
A prelude to the beginning and the end
Of my fledgling youth
In summer.

The faint pricking of early morning sunlight
Beamed so nicely off the water’s surface
The coldness of Balmorhea depths
Always brimmed with aquatic life
Catfish and soft-shelled turtles nipped at your fingers
For a morsel delight
The solitude this place possessed was astounding
Hardly any other bodies were present
For this place of abundance and lively wealth.

The gnawed exterior of volcanic ash
Has presented an excellent venue for a traverse climb
The hand painted rocks
Whose earthly toned pallets
Glistened and shined
Akin to the pattern of a marbled rye
Scaling such skeletal remains of a prehistoric past
Seemed daunting to a more infertile age
Unsupervised we survived such notions.
Upon latter years our presence at the top
Would be a regular adornment due to our yearly occurrence.

Black and blue morning blanketed the sky
Asleep, nestling within a cramped pick-up
Bait and tackle was our haul
The intentions of catching something small
Was further from our thoughts
As the boisterous rays of a clichéd morning appeared
The whizzing sounds of casts had already been laid
The skill was a perquisite and had been earned
Over the years prior
Despite that notion however
My younger blood was just innately ingrained
As the day pursued and fish strewn about our cooler
The day was marked at a close
With the falling of the sky whose colors were
Always an array of purples, oranges and reds.

The night before was full of anxiety and grief stricken woes
The smell of mesquite wood and gun-powder
Had finally been made accustomed to
But like so many times before
Our bags were to be packed
For I knew eventually we’d have to depart
Walking through some hateful portal
Only to glance back one last time on that threshold
To see him wave goodbye
I could never tell from then but
I swear I could hear him cry
That fatherly image I held dear
Is still locked here
Till this day I wish was still there.



 







Pathospassion
c.d.latin
Thought Provoker
United States 8awards
Joined 1st Feb 2014
Forum Posts: 172

IN A FIELD

( A couple of weeks ago in a field with a girl I was crazy about)

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

“Real isn't something you are made,” said the Skin Horse.“It's a thing that happens to you.”

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don't mind being hurt.”

                --Margery Williams

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there.

                          --Rumi

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````


Out here, here is a field
with the sun whistling

its way through the leaves

as beautiful and live as a word. Something

penned to the page for the first time.




               Tell me that we breathe
like  unmoving ghosts


And I will show you how wrong
and right you are.


I will show you a man,

     your name
in his mouth

           ,destined for flight.



                     

This could be a poem-

               instead, let it be every hand

                         screaming with tantrum-
                  their fingers, their palms:

            tears against the language of loss.
      
                a language of verse

      - of bodies-
   
                                    and bone.


How she will look at the sunrise
   
           and whisper something

even the wind can not keep;

   how I  will say       yes darling,
it is a view to live for.



                                 How here,

                     after tying a blade of grass
                  around my finger,
   
                         i will watch a girl
                     get her boots wet on a hill

                    and know for sure
                        that they will dry-

That she,  hands outstretched,
playing away with the finer things,

   Will offer me
Another season to dance.







I will give you a world,

Large
Like a promise,


Like my lips finally
Learning what to do
with that pounding in your wrists.



Something,    
                                   Somewhere,
breathes into the wanting
of a silent night-



And I see you,
Softened with sun.

And when I see you,
  For the first time I know
I have never been loved right.



This could be a poem-

Instead, let it be every salty kiss
We mistook for the ocean,


Let it be the moon shredded with snow,

Let it be a field
with grass green enough to grow a psalm;

  A psalm as loud
And soft as a name
Soaking in a man's throat,

that becomes, in

the moments before our hands
remember they are hands-

Metaphor  
      for sustenance.

poet Anonymous

Home on Gillis Road

We never sat in the living room
well, almost–
close enough to never
in a small house
where the TV room had three chairs
Grandaddy's recliner
Mema's chair
and the other one

The kitchen table sat four
technically
one side of the table often pressed
against the wall
so there was room to walk

Still, we would gather there
a family of twelve
give or take one or two
sometimes even more
with room for all
somehow

I barely remember now
where we all fit
just that we did

That's where I took the picture
of Mema on Grandaddy's knee
wearing a green St. Patrick's Day garter
still cheeky at seventy-seven
and nearly sixty years together

I drive by occasionally
to see how the old house is doing
and sometimes I remember
how odd it felt
that people sat in the living room
after Grandaddy's funeral

I suppose that's what formal
rooms are for

poet Anonymous

Kyle, Pathos and Lyricalli thank you for submitting your beautiful poetry.

The comp ends in less than............48hrs

OxyMoronicMe
G.L.
Dangerous Mind
Philippines 24awards
Joined 15th Feb 2016
Forum Posts: 1470

Lifeline - Memories (The Other Side)

I was raised in a world of diverse lifestyle.
One moment I was surrounded by people whose faith...
Bordered on religious fanaticism,  
Hardline christians and morally uptight...
With set rules on how to live life;
Church on Sundays, grace before and after meals,
Angelus at Six pm - Monotonous... Habitual...
I doubted if it would really mean salvation on the afterlife.

Another moment I was hoisted in a world of politics,
Where intrigues and dirty tricks shower my conscious mind...
Where needy people comes in every color...
Where politician's allegiance changes like a chameleon...
Where good deeds and bad intentions sync in harmony...
All in the name of public service.
I doubted if those Honorables means what they'd promised,
I guessed not, really.

For a time I found myself on the opposite side;
Holding placards on the streets,
Cursing the government,  the superpowers, the capitalist, the imperialist.
Lamenting for the flight of the oppressed,
The farmers, the workers, the students...
And all those who suffer injustices at the hands of the authorities.
I even held arms, learned to shoot a gun...
And was ready to die for the cause I believed in.

But my family holds an important place in my heart.
I returned home for their own peace of mind.
For a while I was aimless,
Unsure where I should belong.
Carcinogen became my lover
Liquor, my bestfriend
My world stopped and became stagnant,
Trapped inside a maze that I created.

I am who I am.
Became the me that I am,
Because of the things I've done.
In the past, my present stood;
In my present, the future hoped.
Remembering what had been,
Lighting the path of the rest of my travel...
My memories, my beacon.

Naajir
Dangerous Mind
United States 16awards
Joined 20th Apr 2013
Forum Posts: 46

calamitygin said:8
https://youtu.be/WFrmapGCuhs
 
It was my Birthday.  
And I would cry if I wanted.  
Brooke had just roller skated over my brand new Toni Basil record!  
Oh Mickey...damnit!
And in my new skates and blue tutu!!  
She was a bully back then  
And a total bitch now.  
 
Reminds me I'm sposed to call her.  
 
Later.  
Four little girls in a tub,  
rub a dub dub.  
Four sudsy love notes.  
Two to Ricky Shroader  
One to Cory Haim  
And a bubbly one in red crayon to Bill Murray. Mine.  
Was a strange kid, dug funny men then dig em now.  
 
"Go to sleep girls! Its late!!"  
 
Oh dad, he could be such a drag.  
Understand, this was serious play.  
I mean, Barbie was inconsolable!  
She didn't get the dream house, again.  
Skipper had just made out with Ken!  
Barbie was used to a perfect world.  
That just wasn't her pink day.  
 
Quiet lasted about ten seconds before the giggling continued.  
 
We went to the zoo in the morning.  
So exited, a couple boys met us there!  
The snake house was my usual favorite..
Today... it was the giant turtles.  
Sammy crawled under the fence and onto ones back!  
Rode the huge confused ol girl.
We were hysterical with laughter, he got in so much trouble.  
 
It was goodbye Bill, hello Sammy.  
Not so much as a so long and sorry to be fickle.  
But funny AND a bad boy, I was his.  
 
Looking back, this might have been the start of that life long pattern.  
At any rate.  
There would be a new bubble bath love letter later that night. .  
 
 
 



i love the the distinct imagery you going on here
very nostalgic  and lively..[Ricky Schroeder? ha! now that's a throw back]
i can feel the energy all throughout..
yes..this was a very entertaining and witty read Gin
i enjoyed this vibe a lot

Naajir
Dangerous Mind
United States 16awards
Joined 20th Apr 2013
Forum Posts: 46

mysteriouslady said:Long Live The D....313
 
2 story bungalow
not completely on skid row
but theres an alley out back
 
Runnin through the streets
disheveled, never neat
us snot~nosed brats ruled the world
 
Cambriges and a 40
nights atop burnt building, oh lordy
my youth was full of surprises
 
When the sun goes to sleep
huge lights lit the streets
and thats when you got your ass home
 
Who's got the ripple?
no drooling on the nipple
of the bottle that fed my youth
 
Once in while, I take a ride
the kids duck down in back and hide
my childhood home is only a pile of ashes
 
With tears in my eyes
as I blow a kiss and say good bye
thank the stars most of us got out alive....
 


"When the sun goes to sleep
huge lights lit the streets
and thats when you got your ass home "

yep!! remember those days..

"us snot~nosed brats ruled the world "

all hail the snot nosed brats!!  ha!!
i likes




poet Anonymous

Here are the semi- finalists in no particular order:

Faith …. Jade-Pandora
8 …… Calamitygin
Home on Gillis Road …. Lyricalli
Icehouse …. 7wednesdays
Beach Club …… Russiamagda
crooked rainbow … John Feddeler
Long Live The D 313 …. Mysteriouslady
Gotta Let It Go ….. Mikimoondancer



poet Anonymous

I would like to thank each and every one of you for writing and contributing in this comp, the results were phenomenal and each of the judges expressed how difficult it was to narrow the choices down to 3 top favorites.
Although, most expressed honorable mentions because they were simply too fantastic to not include.


The point system is based on each of the judges placements according to their choices.

First: 3 points
Second: 2 points
Third: 1 points



( 1 vote, 3 points) Faith …. Jade-Pandora
( 2 votes, 5 points) 8 …… Calamitygin
( 1 vote, 1 point) Home on Gillis Road …. Lyricalli
( 1 vote, 1 point) Beach Club …… Russiamagda
( 3 votes, 8 points) Long Live The D 313 …. Mysteriouslady
( 2 votes, 4 points)  Gotta Let It Go ….. Mikimoondancer


Honorable mentions:  ( they were mentioned quite a few times on the lists of the judges)

crooked rainbow … John Feddeler
Icehouse …. 7wednesdays



Critique/ Feedback ( In no particular order)

~~~ Faith by Jade-Pandora: I really like ‘Faith’ by Jade-Pandora. She transports me to the place she is talking about. Lines like this bring past memories alive;
“The layers of dust-settled outlining frames
of tobacco smoke where once pictures had hung,
and aromas from generations ago.

How many chicken dinners, and rubarb pies
with golden flaky crusts made of lard, passed through
the wood-burning stove in a land few trees grew.”
I think she nailed it with sights, scents and sounds(the fly, the dog etc).


~~~ 8 by Calamitygin: The short lines give it a lot of energy which lends itself to the subject. I also like how it’s just packed with different images- much like a conversation with an 8 year old.

Calamity's Gin piece really stood out for me
because she was more than being descriptive
her's had a lot of personality to it.  I love the the distinct imagery you going on here
very nostalgic  and lively..[Ricky Schroeder? ha! now that's a throw back]
i can feel the energy all throughout..
yes..this was a very entertaining and witty read Gin, i enjoyed this vibe a lot.


~~~  Home on Gillis Road by Lyricalli: captures the feel of a large family in a small house. Again the energy and liveliness conveyed in very few words contrasting with the silence and formality after the grandfather’s funeral.

~~~ Long Live The D 313 by Mysteriouslady: mysteriouslady's vibe had some umph to it as well and a lot it i related to in a personal and nostalgic place....
"When the sun goes to sleep
huge lights lit the streets
and thats when you got your ass home "
yep!! remember those days..
"us snot~nosed brats ruled the world "
all hail the snot nosed brats!!  ha!!  i likes


Truly enjoyed Mysterious Lady .....Long Live the D -313.....she took me thru a neighborhood I used to know myself .....and how wonderful for her to take us back again after she left that place.

Mysteriouslady:  The poem is expertly crafted, flawless and each line fell into the next and by the last line it brought tears to my eyes. The imagery descriptive and vivid, the syntax beautiful and sad at the same time.  Rhyming factor understated.  Winning combination.


~~~ Gotta Let It Go by Mikimoondancer: Miki trip to a hard past was painful to read. To find that she came out of that darkness into light where darkness is a mere shadow is awesome..

Mikimoondancer, She took the reader on a journey that we can all identify in some form and shape. The last line was so powerful like staring truth in the face and realizing that we all have allowed the undeserving too much value in our lives.  


~~~ Beach Club by Russiamagda: Russiamagda's beach club SWEPT.me away...the cadence..the intimacy...the sweet imagery...sigh...that was divine indeed.

Beach Club by Russia Magda where I can smell the suntan lotion and feel the sun and water on my skin.......

~~~  JOHN F with Crooked Rainbow......the house is old and lonely, I want to fix it!



I would like to thank three exceptionally talented writers who not only amaze us with their work every single day but they are the epitome of kindness and respect.
Thank you for your time and for your valuable feedbacks, much appreciation to:

Mr. Naajir                            Miss Lena-Underneath                   Mr. Edead




Congratulations to:

1. Mysteriouslady
2. Calamitygin
3. Mikimoondancer



Thanks again to everyone who participated, let your inks flow with kindness and love.

poet Anonymous

Many thanks, Vee and judges
big congrats to Mysteriouslady and Calamity!

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