Poetry competition CLOSED 29th August 2012 11:32pm
WINNER
wanderer (Faceless)
wanderer (Faceless)
RUNNER-UP:
PierreTheMad
A write for the one above!
For the Madman, on his sanity
Twenty-odd years spent.
Doesn't matter how it was spent,
just that it was. And it hurt, to be sure.
At the time that mattered. But no more.
All that matters is that it was spent,
and you were spent,
and there was no direction, no purpose,
no reason. Very zen, or maybe along the Tao?
But you'd get another shot reincarnated—
or maybe these last few dragging seconds
would determine your eternity. No
direction, no purpose.
And then you chanced to find
a rosebush. Round, full, emerald, healthy.
And at the top of it, an opalescent rose,
starlit and glowing. It fascinated you,
you should know, we could all see that.
It drew you in. You found purpose
in watering, pruning, caring
for this bush that created such pearly beauty.
And for your painstaking trouble
to nurture something so ethereal,
three small
rosebuds
appeared.
Trading life for purpose,
for direction channeling your steps,
was your fair deal.
Really, it was trading life
for life.
Poetry? It's not your passion. It's idle fancy.
Rambling roughshod, wandering casually,
damn the torpedoes and fuck the structure,
slinging sharp metaphors
pinpointed to their targets
because you do it so well.
The roses and their bush are your opus,
and you should know,
we all see it.
Twenty-odd years spent.
Doesn't matter how it was spent,
just that it was. And it hurt, to be sure.
At the time that mattered. But no more.
All that matters is that it was spent,
and you were spent,
and there was no direction, no purpose,
no reason. Very zen, or maybe along the Tao?
But you'd get another shot reincarnated—
or maybe these last few dragging seconds
would determine your eternity. No
direction, no purpose.
And then you chanced to find
a rosebush. Round, full, emerald, healthy.
And at the top of it, an opalescent rose,
starlit and glowing. It fascinated you,
you should know, we could all see that.
It drew you in. You found purpose
in watering, pruning, caring
for this bush that created such pearly beauty.
And for your painstaking trouble
to nurture something so ethereal,
three small
rosebuds
appeared.
Trading life for purpose,
for direction channeling your steps,
was your fair deal.
Really, it was trading life
for life.
Poetry? It's not your passion. It's idle fancy.
Rambling roughshod, wandering casually,
damn the torpedoes and fuck the structure,
slinging sharp metaphors
pinpointed to their targets
because you do it so well.
The roses and their bush are your opus,
and you should know,
we all see it.
Levi what a nice guy
He may be young
and full of fun
But He has a serious side
With much much pride
He was so into Danni
Made that very clear
I like his shirt
He tried looking up my skirt
That on day back in may
Faithful and true
This young man
Will turn out to be better then some of you
That's all for now
Stay tuned
I'm not in it I've been written for. By Levi and jesta. So I just wrote for Levi to make it even
And he's a nice boy. So no one needs to write for him or me. Even Steven
He may be young
and full of fun
But He has a serious side
With much much pride
He was so into Danni
Made that very clear
I like his shirt
He tried looking up my skirt
That on day back in may
Faithful and true
This young man
Will turn out to be better then some of you
That's all for now
Stay tuned
I'm not in it I've been written for. By Levi and jesta. So I just wrote for Levi to make it even
And he's a nice boy. So no one needs to write for him or me. Even Steven
Anonymous
I'll take Mike!
ok I'll do Aish 
Hebroid Celt
she speaks eloquence.
weaving soft silk
and gossamer through her words.
when she speaks of love,
her words pulse
in time with her heart beats
spirit of the solstice
wild and caring
fresh as the first breath
of a newborn
baby
she laughs and cries
like all humanity
ought to.
"Love
at its core,
is wild, not obedient" -Aish
Hebroid Celt
she speaks eloquence.
weaving soft silk
and gossamer through her words.
when she speaks of love,
her words pulse
in time with her heart beats
spirit of the solstice
wild and caring
fresh as the first breath
of a newborn
baby
she laughs and cries
like all humanity
ought to.
"Love
at its core,
is wild, not obedient" -Aish
PierreTheMad said:[quote-115244-Kou_Indigo]- Sweet Violet -
Sweet and smiling Violet, who loves life and living so…
To find the words to sing of you, I call the muses hither!
On your old isle, across the sea where salt winds blow,
Your words reach out to us, and never once do wither.
Between the spaces of your phrases, I detect the light…
Of a spirit who is filled with joy, and sometimes sorrow.
But through it all you shine like all the stars of the night!
Sending slivers of echoes that beckon, for the morrow.
Sweet and smiling Violet, your words reach so deeply,
Into places only you can take us, upon your life’s path!
We are your fellow adventurers upon the errant journey,
And when you speak, such rousing sounds that laugh…
They flow from your lips like ambrosia, gracing our ears.
A clear mind can see the beauty and become entranced,
By the spell your poetry weaves, like sunlight that sears!
You are an honest artist, as before us you have danced.
Sweet and smiling Violet, I am happy that you are here,
Sharing this space between spaces, deep underground…
Bringing us close to your world, whenever we are near:
To the words you spin, with skill, to make artful sound.
You live, you love, you give us so much with such care,
And for that we are always grateful, for all that you are.
Thank you for all your words that you choose to share!
You are far more than just a poet, you are a shining star.
You seem to have been overlooked so here comes the Madman to right a wrong....
Rex Regina,
Soft enough to be Flos
Strong enough to be Tyranus
Your titles,
as well as your skill
precede you,
lovely time-traveler.
1000 folds of steel
and still tempered enough
to disturb Zen itself
Rinzai, the enlightened path walked
by the lady of the samurai
from ages past,
The jewel of Edo herself.
Honor above all, except
for the one truth
that originates in the heart
The quiet stream
The falling cherry blossom
The gently traveling winds
Calling your name
so you will always know the way[/quote]
Ah, thank you so much for that beautiful poem, Pierre! I was looking through the contest pages to see how things progressed thus far and noticed your lovely poem for me. I loved reading it, and felt truly honored by your portrayal of me in it too! Though it may not have been in accordance with the contest per se, it was still a splendid tribute and made me smile. :D
Sweet and smiling Violet, who loves life and living so…
To find the words to sing of you, I call the muses hither!
On your old isle, across the sea where salt winds blow,
Your words reach out to us, and never once do wither.
Between the spaces of your phrases, I detect the light…
Of a spirit who is filled with joy, and sometimes sorrow.
But through it all you shine like all the stars of the night!
Sending slivers of echoes that beckon, for the morrow.
Sweet and smiling Violet, your words reach so deeply,
Into places only you can take us, upon your life’s path!
We are your fellow adventurers upon the errant journey,
And when you speak, such rousing sounds that laugh…
They flow from your lips like ambrosia, gracing our ears.
A clear mind can see the beauty and become entranced,
By the spell your poetry weaves, like sunlight that sears!
You are an honest artist, as before us you have danced.
Sweet and smiling Violet, I am happy that you are here,
Sharing this space between spaces, deep underground…
Bringing us close to your world, whenever we are near:
To the words you spin, with skill, to make artful sound.
You live, you love, you give us so much with such care,
And for that we are always grateful, for all that you are.
Thank you for all your words that you choose to share!
You are far more than just a poet, you are a shining star.
You seem to have been overlooked so here comes the Madman to right a wrong....
Rex Regina,
Soft enough to be Flos
Strong enough to be Tyranus
Your titles,
as well as your skill
precede you,
lovely time-traveler.
1000 folds of steel
and still tempered enough
to disturb Zen itself
Rinzai, the enlightened path walked
by the lady of the samurai
from ages past,
The jewel of Edo herself.
Honor above all, except
for the one truth
that originates in the heart
The quiet stream
The falling cherry blossom
The gently traveling winds
Calling your name
so you will always know the way[/quote]
Ah, thank you so much for that beautiful poem, Pierre! I was looking through the contest pages to see how things progressed thus far and noticed your lovely poem for me. I loved reading it, and felt truly honored by your portrayal of me in it too! Though it may not have been in accordance with the contest per se, it was still a splendid tribute and made me smile. :D
Anonymous
lepperochan said:ok I'll do Aish
Hebroid Celt
she speaks eloquence.
weaving soft silk
and gossamer through her words.
when she speaks of love,
her words pulse
in time with her heart beats
spirit of the solstice
wild and caring
fresh as the first breath
of a newborn
baby
she laughs and cries
like all humanity
ought to.
"Love
at its core,
is wild, not obedient" -Aish
I love it! Mwuah!
AMEN
Excavation
through whip stitched craic
leathery skincage
and laughing eyes
of those wizened hands
and delivered mirth;
a trickle begets a wellspring
of polished strength.
Burbling drunkenness
of knowledge (and wine)
a path of choices
and masculine pride
challenging gifts
from an extraordinary life
yield fruit
and an uncommon man.
Hebroid Celt
she speaks eloquence.
weaving soft silk
and gossamer through her words.
when she speaks of love,
her words pulse
in time with her heart beats
spirit of the solstice
wild and caring
fresh as the first breath
of a newborn
baby
she laughs and cries
like all humanity
ought to.
"Love
at its core,
is wild, not obedient" -Aish
I love it! Mwuah!
AMEN
Excavation
through whip stitched craic
leathery skincage
and laughing eyes
of those wizened hands
and delivered mirth;
a trickle begets a wellspring
of polished strength.
Burbling drunkenness
of knowledge (and wine)
a path of choices
and masculine pride
challenging gifts
from an extraordinary life
yield fruit
and an uncommon man.
Anonymous
I'm working on Mike's
Mind-Boggler(Lepperochan)
Distant and far away across the screen
In and over the sea
Sits an intelligent man
who's red pen and black ink writes
as an artist paints;
One line he draws to another
And Another he mixes with the colourful
Other
To capture a picture;
To paint as an artist paints!
Intelligent words he sprinkles on screen-
Intelligent words bound together by a
Hinge, a focal point,
which hints
to the existence of a an experienced and
well furnished mind with a brain to observe- find patterns-
Decode codes-
And to relay an addiction on strangers minds
First time my attention was turned to the Mind-Boggler,
He struck me as a Questioner of some sorts...
a Seeker
Of something
I couldn't quite place my thumb on...
I think him friendly and humorous-
sometimes jolly
And I dare say- he seldomly gives in to folly;
a joker, then a gentle man,
a ladies man, then a serious man-
resourceful, industrious,
a fervent man ?
Hmm... Here I am drawing in the sand;
Building
a castle in air with my pen...
Many's crusty curiosities are directed towards you;
His Hers
and mine too
Distant and far away across the screen
In and over the sea
Sits an intelligent man
who's red pen and black ink writes
as an artist paints;
One line he draws to another
And Another he mixes with the colourful
Other
To capture a picture;
To paint as an artist paints!
Intelligent words he sprinkles on screen-
Intelligent words bound together by a
Hinge, a focal point,
which hints
to the existence of a an experienced and
well furnished mind with a brain to observe- find patterns-
Decode codes-
And to relay an addiction on strangers minds
First time my attention was turned to the Mind-Boggler,
He struck me as a Questioner of some sorts...
a Seeker
Of something
I couldn't quite place my thumb on...
I think him friendly and humorous-
sometimes jolly
And I dare say- he seldomly gives in to folly;
a joker, then a gentle man,
a ladies man, then a serious man-
resourceful, industrious,
a fervent man ?
Hmm... Here I am drawing in the sand;
Building
a castle in air with my pen...
Many's crusty curiosities are directed towards you;
His Hers
and mine too
