Poetry competition CLOSED 10th September 2017 7:43pm
WINNER
Grace (IDryad)
Grace (IDryad)
RUNNERS-UP:
mel44
and Amorous_tryst
silence is acceptance
Freedom from a corrupted Chief
(are we there yet...?)
letters borne on silver winged birds
logos and flags, with stars and stripes
all hail the descending royalties
smug fat faces shiny and smiling
like petrified Buddhas
oh how they exude benevolence
bend the knees, forehead to palms
deities from the skies, all hail
never a step missed
never a frozen face frowned
words of welcome murmured
never above the safe decible
they are gourmand and gourmandisers
deny them not their food and drinks
born of the peasants sweat
palsied fingers paying
gaping mouths of treasuries
or else the tilled land of corns are theirs
say not a word or dungeon becomes your home
write not even on sands for they see all
trust not in the smiling face of a friend
for one hand hide what the other does
work, shackles on your neck to the yoke
of the keeper of the coins
freedom will come yet
weld you the pencil
that write the king to his throne
with the pencil you can again
drop him to the ground
where dogs may not deign to spit
Freedom.
(are we there yet...?)
letters borne on silver winged birds
logos and flags, with stars and stripes
all hail the descending royalties
smug fat faces shiny and smiling
like petrified Buddhas
oh how they exude benevolence
bend the knees, forehead to palms
deities from the skies, all hail
never a step missed
never a frozen face frowned
words of welcome murmured
never above the safe decible
they are gourmand and gourmandisers
deny them not their food and drinks
born of the peasants sweat
palsied fingers paying
gaping mouths of treasuries
or else the tilled land of corns are theirs
say not a word or dungeon becomes your home
write not even on sands for they see all
trust not in the smiling face of a friend
for one hand hide what the other does
work, shackles on your neck to the yoke
of the keeper of the coins
freedom will come yet
weld you the pencil
that write the king to his throne
with the pencil you can again
drop him to the ground
where dogs may not deign to spit
Freedom.
My Village
The village in a valley
surrounded by a forest
ever tranquilly serene
fenced by thick gigantic trees
standing tall reaching for the skies
looking up as if in plea
to be away and earthbound free
Within the village
there is a seer
a medicine man
a shaman
and a chieftain
to whom all defer to
their words are law
all yes no nay
The people live in shivering fear
of flying metals
and flickering boxes
of water in steel tubes
of flashing fire in glass confines
of tall people without their skin
their eyes blue-peeled from the skies
The village within that valley
thrives on in harmony
with nature at its best
hands calloused tilling the land
to plant and farm
all their food are contained
where mother Nature has it
they want for nothing
food off the ground and jungles
water from crystal clear river
scooped with bamboo dippers
to quench their thirst
One day a strange man arrives
with a crossed book on his hand
thundering words of fire and brimstone
golden brown eyes flashing fire
with words of ugliness he paints
everything the people stands for
to be evil and against the will
of a foreign deity
showering guilt on their wondering minds
Sleepy village
a church with a spire
two padres
six altar boys
congregation of fifty five
babies born to be baptised
the shaman has left
for places unknown.
surrounded by a forest
ever tranquilly serene
fenced by thick gigantic trees
standing tall reaching for the skies
looking up as if in plea
to be away and earthbound free
Within the village
there is a seer
a medicine man
a shaman
and a chieftain
to whom all defer to
their words are law
all yes no nay
The people live in shivering fear
of flying metals
and flickering boxes
of water in steel tubes
of flashing fire in glass confines
of tall people without their skin
their eyes blue-peeled from the skies
The village within that valley
thrives on in harmony
with nature at its best
hands calloused tilling the land
to plant and farm
all their food are contained
where mother Nature has it
they want for nothing
food off the ground and jungles
water from crystal clear river
scooped with bamboo dippers
to quench their thirst
One day a strange man arrives
with a crossed book on his hand
thundering words of fire and brimstone
golden brown eyes flashing fire
with words of ugliness he paints
everything the people stands for
to be evil and against the will
of a foreign deity
showering guilt on their wondering minds
Sleepy village
a church with a spire
two padres
six altar boys
congregation of fifty five
babies born to be baptised
the shaman has left
for places unknown.
Written by Grace
(IDryad)
Go To Page
I hope my posts are more inspirational than intimidational...
JJ
"Silence is Acceptance "
Fear grabbed me by the throat
Took my breath away to erase zealous defiance
Enslaving me to my own jaded duplicity
Wedged between confidence and arrogance
As if either one could comfort the rationale of silence
Emerging when immersed in the tears of falling angels
Whose wings were singed by the feverish chill emanating
From the souls behind the eyes concealing undead lies
I cannot fathom the complaints of those who've said nothing
For untold ages while the battle continually rages
Feigning two-faced offense for conserving slavery
Embracing supremacist icons of murderers and traitors
Mowing down the peaceful protestors who will not be silenced
For in death our voices speak louder than spirits in the heavens
While tears of Summer cannot stop Heather from blowin' in the wind
Too many voices remained silent until called out for being quiet
For the volumes unspoken by the tongues that were broken
Say nothing about the poets who refuse to spill defiant ink
JJ
"Silence is Acceptance "
Fear grabbed me by the throat
Took my breath away to erase zealous defiance
Enslaving me to my own jaded duplicity
Wedged between confidence and arrogance
As if either one could comfort the rationale of silence
Emerging when immersed in the tears of falling angels
Whose wings were singed by the feverish chill emanating
From the souls behind the eyes concealing undead lies
I cannot fathom the complaints of those who've said nothing
For untold ages while the battle continually rages
Feigning two-faced offense for conserving slavery
Embracing supremacist icons of murderers and traitors
Mowing down the peaceful protestors who will not be silenced
For in death our voices speak louder than spirits in the heavens
While tears of Summer cannot stop Heather from blowin' in the wind
Too many voices remained silent until called out for being quiet
For the volumes unspoken by the tongues that were broken
Say nothing about the poets who refuse to spill defiant ink
Tears on the road
My road is full of the heart break, so its real easy to stay awake.
On THE road of tears i am just walking in puddles, HOW come we just can't sit back, chill and love one Another.
The water is getting knee deep, it's really hard to get any sleep.
so many Years of tears, on the road behind me there is allot of broken bottles and chairs.
Trying to drown my sorrows feeling sorry for myself, i had to get down to get back up, because my self is all i have left.
The rain come down whenever i am in pain emotionally, i always seem to mess up by given the wrong person all of me.
I just learn from my mistakes and the love don't go away, i wish my recent lover can stay until the end of TIME.
MY road is dark, all you can see is the shine of the water, MY love is not awaken its still hiding under the covers.
The water is getting too deep and my shoes are getting too wet, i can't go on without me going through the storm.
Walking in the rain, the thunderstorms is coming
I have a long road ahead of me, BUT I'm walking slow, because i don't want to fall again.
Forgive me Lord for which i have sin, THE way my tears is coming saying that i can't let nobody in.
Walking up THE hill where i have to climbed, going through all my broken past that i got to leave behind.
Step BY step going through the pain and hurt, its was pouring real hard and everything on me got soaked, I'm not even safe in the storm with a coat.
The higher and higher i go more and more of MY world is slowly crashing, if i stop everybody around me is going to start bashing me.
The more and more i walk all of the houses and buildings just fall, the devil took my love away, but i have to keep going.
There is no sun or light, lying to myself saying everything will be alright.
Riding looking out the window of a bus, its hard to find someone good when this world is full of lust.
I'm willing to give a second chance of my past, this time i hope the situation will be good and last.
The more i cry and the more its pours down on me, I'm trying to make it up the hill, through the storm, and up the street in order to be a better person.
On THE road of tears i am just walking in puddles, HOW come we just can't sit back, chill and love one Another.
The water is getting knee deep, it's really hard to get any sleep.
so many Years of tears, on the road behind me there is allot of broken bottles and chairs.
Trying to drown my sorrows feeling sorry for myself, i had to get down to get back up, because my self is all i have left.
The rain come down whenever i am in pain emotionally, i always seem to mess up by given the wrong person all of me.
I just learn from my mistakes and the love don't go away, i wish my recent lover can stay until the end of TIME.
MY road is dark, all you can see is the shine of the water, MY love is not awaken its still hiding under the covers.
The water is getting too deep and my shoes are getting too wet, i can't go on without me going through the storm.
Walking in the rain, the thunderstorms is coming
I have a long road ahead of me, BUT I'm walking slow, because i don't want to fall again.
Forgive me Lord for which i have sin, THE way my tears is coming saying that i can't let nobody in.
Walking up THE hill where i have to climbed, going through all my broken past that i got to leave behind.
Step BY step going through the pain and hurt, its was pouring real hard and everything on me got soaked, I'm not even safe in the storm with a coat.
The higher and higher i go more and more of MY world is slowly crashing, if i stop everybody around me is going to start bashing me.
The more and more i walk all of the houses and buildings just fall, the devil took my love away, but i have to keep going.
There is no sun or light, lying to myself saying everything will be alright.
Riding looking out the window of a bus, its hard to find someone good when this world is full of lust.
I'm willing to give a second chance of my past, this time i hope the situation will be good and last.
The more i cry and the more its pours down on me, I'm trying to make it up the hill, through the storm, and up the street in order to be a better person.
Written by deepthreat1490
Go To Page
No Longer Silent
As sitting here, in my front room
with thoughts of hate, and how it grooms
taught by parents, or perhaps others
to little sisters, and their brothers
how it denies, the actual truth
a twisted tree, with putrid roots
all b
r
a
n
c
h
e
s
d
r
o
o
p
void of fruit
I watch my grandsons, play in joy
no words of hatred, here employed
for not enjoyed...........
just annoy.............
For you see, tis mine to tell
as scene I see, how my heart swells
within a tale...............
with words well.............
Though not a bigot, more stander by
a different bird, I feared they'd spy
no longer I can live this lie
just as soon, curl up and die
Two young boys, of darker dad
makes me ashamed, of thoughts I had
my words withheld, now make me sad
now speak my mind, I will be glad
No longer do I, hold my piece
if only to, just keep the peace
and now much better, do I sleep
for they have taught me,........
be not a sheep
As sitting here, in my front room
with thoughts of hate, and how it grooms
taught by parents, or perhaps others
to little sisters, and their brothers
how it denies, the actual truth
a twisted tree, with putrid roots
all b
r
a
n
c
h
e
s
d
r
o
o
p
void of fruit
I watch my grandsons, play in joy
no words of hatred, here employed
for not enjoyed...........
just annoy.............
For you see, tis mine to tell
as scene I see, how my heart swells
within a tale...............
with words well.............
Though not a bigot, more stander by
a different bird, I feared they'd spy
no longer I can live this lie
just as soon, curl up and die
Two young boys, of darker dad
makes me ashamed, of thoughts I had
my words withheld, now make me sad
now speak my mind, I will be glad
No longer do I, hold my piece
if only to, just keep the peace
and now much better, do I sleep
for they have taught me,........
be not a sheep
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Grace said:Freedom from a corrupted Chief
(are we there yet...?)
letters borne on silver winged birds
logos and flags, with stars and stripes
all hail the descending royalties
smug fat faces shiny and smiling
like petrified Buddhas
oh how they exude benevolence
bend the knees, forehead to palms
deities from the skies, all hail
never a step missed
never a frozen face frowned
words of welcome murmured
never above the safe decible
they are gourmand and gourmandisers
deny them not their food and drinks
born of the peasants sweat
palsied fingers paying
gaping mouths of treasuries
or else the tilled land of corns are theirs
say not a word or dungeon becomes your home
write not even on sands for they see all
trust not in the smiling face of a friend
for one hand hide what the other does
work, shackles on your neck to the yoke
of the keeper of the coins
freedom will come yet
weld you the pencil
that write the king to his throne
with the pencil you can again
drop him to the ground
where dogs may not deign to spit
Freedom.
(are we there yet...?)
letters borne on silver winged birds
logos and flags, with stars and stripes
all hail the descending royalties
smug fat faces shiny and smiling
like petrified Buddhas
oh how they exude benevolence
bend the knees, forehead to palms
deities from the skies, all hail
never a step missed
never a frozen face frowned
words of welcome murmured
never above the safe decible
they are gourmand and gourmandisers
deny them not their food and drinks
born of the peasants sweat
palsied fingers paying
gaping mouths of treasuries
or else the tilled land of corns are theirs
say not a word or dungeon becomes your home
write not even on sands for they see all
trust not in the smiling face of a friend
for one hand hide what the other does
work, shackles on your neck to the yoke
of the keeper of the coins
freedom will come yet
weld you the pencil
that write the king to his throne
with the pencil you can again
drop him to the ground
where dogs may not deign to spit
Freedom.
