Poetry competition CLOSED 11th February 2018 5:16am
WINNER
MadameLavender
MadameLavender
RUNNER-UP:
wallyroo92
Take It To The Street
Poetry Contest Description
A poem about graffiti/street art
I am from Oakland, CA and it is filled with street art/graffiti on every corner. What I want you do (it does require going outside, even just going around the block) is to hit the streets and find a piece of graffiti/street art that inspires you. Write a piece about it. If you want to upload an image of that street art, I will leave that up to you (and it must be your own image).
*1 month
*Up to 2 submissions per person
*No limit on length, but must be at least 10 lines
*I enjoy pieces with rhyming (but that is totally optional)
*Please DM me if you have any questions, comments or concerns
*And lastly good luck
*1 month
*Up to 2 submissions per person
*No limit on length, but must be at least 10 lines
*I enjoy pieces with rhyming (but that is totally optional)
*Please DM me if you have any questions, comments or concerns
*And lastly good luck
Example Piece:
In the Streets
You cannot simply kill them all unless it is with
Kindness and a pretty smile. Make sure that
The ground you walk on is concrete and dirt,
Not bloodied bodies. Murder every single myth
That people from the hood are thugs. They stand at
Street corners when making money with the hurt
Streaming through their eyes. They are ordinary
People just like you and me, just living their life
Differently than what we are used to. Just because
They stand out does not mean they are less wary
And they will never trust a bloody gun or knife
Any more they would with a helping hand. They
Just want to live their life in vibrancy and colors
With beautiful art on every corner. Scribbled
On the walls is love. They are tired of the decay
Of their beloved city. Oakland, where crawlers
And dwellers live with thoughts that are rippled.
(image can be viewed on my page).
In the Streets
You cannot simply kill them all unless it is with
Kindness and a pretty smile. Make sure that
The ground you walk on is concrete and dirt,
Not bloodied bodies. Murder every single myth
That people from the hood are thugs. They stand at
Street corners when making money with the hurt
Streaming through their eyes. They are ordinary
People just like you and me, just living their life
Differently than what we are used to. Just because
They stand out does not mean they are less wary
And they will never trust a bloody gun or knife
Any more they would with a helping hand. They
Just want to live their life in vibrancy and colors
With beautiful art on every corner. Scribbled
On the walls is love. They are tired of the decay
Of their beloved city. Oakland, where crawlers
And dwellers live with thoughts that are rippled.
(image can be viewed on my page).
Unrecognized flowing objective
I got more bars than xanex takers
I guess as a kid you could say I was anxious
Because of how much I used to chew up earasers
With more memory lost than a person abducted by spaceships
Why reach for the Stars when I'm so alienated
Saving hoes who don't want it is frustrating
So that phone booth I used to use to switch identifies is the one I burned my cap in
Like kryptonite, pussy is my Demise can't escape it
Life is a bitch but only to those who hate it
Life is a gift you don't have to receive so appreciate it
Like fresh clay and an imagination
Life is what you make it
Made in the image that God created
All Equal, yet unique in our abilitity to be creative
Go ahead tell me to say it don't spray it
Cause I'm spitting hard with every word I'm saying
I guess as a kid you could say I was anxious
Because of how much I used to chew up earasers
With more memory lost than a person abducted by spaceships
Why reach for the Stars when I'm so alienated
Saving hoes who don't want it is frustrating
So that phone booth I used to use to switch identifies is the one I burned my cap in
Like kryptonite, pussy is my Demise can't escape it
Life is a bitch but only to those who hate it
Life is a gift you don't have to receive so appreciate it
Like fresh clay and an imagination
Life is what you make it
Made in the image that God created
All Equal, yet unique in our abilitity to be creative
Go ahead tell me to say it don't spray it
Cause I'm spitting hard with every word I'm saying
Written by kiko_the_poet
Go To Page
Tag
With wild colorful spray of intensity
Mirroring the street rhythms that pulse within me
I tag my beat box legacy
Giving light and life to the the terror dome walls surrounding me
Gifting beauty and direction to the jags and angling pale yellow signs suggesting yield
Fuck that noise
I yield to nothing and pale yellow clouds my sunny disposition
A b girls collective conscience
Illustrating my thoughts
Expressing my innermost Illest reflections
Iike Cool Earl and Cornbread before me
Or Herring with his nuclear babies
Dancing unity in the minds of the once uninspired
Swaying suburban melancholy towards enlightenment
Now alive with the fire of high art
Covering the vast intermingling
Now punch drunk mangled
Master stroked avenues of the pedestrian
I to will continue and exist by my mark
While this beat girl roams and creates
And my life will throb through like reverb word
Declaring myself "was here" long live
A graffiti outlaw
With wild colorful spray of intensity
Mirroring the street rhythms that pulse within me
I tag my beat box legacy
Giving light and life to the the terror dome walls surrounding me
Gifting beauty and direction to the jags and angling pale yellow signs suggesting yield
Fuck that noise
I yield to nothing and pale yellow clouds my sunny disposition
A b girls collective conscience
Illustrating my thoughts
Expressing my innermost Illest reflections
Iike Cool Earl and Cornbread before me
Or Herring with his nuclear babies
Dancing unity in the minds of the once uninspired
Swaying suburban melancholy towards enlightenment
Now alive with the fire of high art
Covering the vast intermingling
Now punch drunk mangled
Master stroked avenues of the pedestrian
I to will continue and exist by my mark
While this beat girl roams and creates
And my life will throb through like reverb word
Declaring myself "was here" long live
A graffiti outlaw
http://www.smashingbuzz.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/10/The-Graffiti-Writing-Revolution-06.jpg
Revolution !
I sense a revolution coming,
The masses are taking a stand for what is right,
Coming together for the sake of humanity,
Joining together in an arduous everlasting fight.
I feel a revolution rising,
Like prophecies told about the end of times,
The rich get richer and the poor are dehumanized,
And those responsible will be judged for their crimes.
I smell a revolution brewing,
When some in the ruling class are the worst of criminals,
Creating laws and decrees to take what’s rightfully ours,
To benefit them is just beyond deceptive and cynical.
I see a revolution growing,
The uprising of the multitudes to save democracy,
To fight for what’s fair, for all to become aware,
Otherwise it’s just another nation of hypocrisy.
I see a revolution in the horizon,
When the left and the right are becoming extremes,
And the space in between gives them the room,
To drop bombs to kill what was once a dream.
I foresee a revolution,
They have been the tipping points of troubled nations,
Event after event becoming more dire and calamitous,
That some even lead to political assassinations…
…History seems to repeat itself over and over again,
When the people are fed up and there is no other solution,
So fight the power from this very day from this very hour,
And give rise to true sovereignty through a revolution.
Revolution !
I sense a revolution coming,
The masses are taking a stand for what is right,
Coming together for the sake of humanity,
Joining together in an arduous everlasting fight.
I feel a revolution rising,
Like prophecies told about the end of times,
The rich get richer and the poor are dehumanized,
And those responsible will be judged for their crimes.
I smell a revolution brewing,
When some in the ruling class are the worst of criminals,
Creating laws and decrees to take what’s rightfully ours,
To benefit them is just beyond deceptive and cynical.
I see a revolution growing,
The uprising of the multitudes to save democracy,
To fight for what’s fair, for all to become aware,
Otherwise it’s just another nation of hypocrisy.
I see a revolution in the horizon,
When the left and the right are becoming extremes,
And the space in between gives them the room,
To drop bombs to kill what was once a dream.
I foresee a revolution,
They have been the tipping points of troubled nations,
Event after event becoming more dire and calamitous,
That some even lead to political assassinations…
…History seems to repeat itself over and over again,
When the people are fed up and there is no other solution,
So fight the power from this very day from this very hour,
And give rise to true sovereignty through a revolution.
Technicolor fist fight forest
Someone being stabbed
not gushing blood
but black light
blue neon dance party
happy yellow dumpsters for recycling
giant ducks drinking people tea
punching through white canvases
karate master maestro
rollerblading on empty vodka bottles
Van Halen's "runnin with the devil" plays in the background
tagging
with a retro sought after can of Krylon spray paint
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
inspired by the wonderful calamitygin (Jennifer Michael McCurry)
"tag"
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/296870-tag/
not gushing blood
but black light
blue neon dance party
happy yellow dumpsters for recycling
giant ducks drinking people tea
punching through white canvases
karate master maestro
rollerblading on empty vodka bottles
Van Halen's "runnin with the devil" plays in the background
tagging
with a retro sought after can of Krylon spray paint
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
inspired by the wonderful calamitygin (Jennifer Michael McCurry)
"tag"
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/296870-tag/
Written by samael
(Zaroff poetry)
Go To Page
ORIGINAL KRYLON KINGS
Ripe plum
groove
running down
mature nectar
sweet juice
jaw dropping
glaucous
you jackknifed into my heart
splashing in my pool
clean out the fiber filter
full of death
drown me out of breath
pretend
like it doesn't hurt
it throws me
in a shallow paupers grave
if you were rent
i'd be late
a liar
just to hear your voice
minx
landlord of Love
hurting like a hernia
i miss you so bad
splitting chests
an Axe murderer in the night
popping sternums cherry's
results may very
i'll turn them all against me in the end
A hopeless little engine that could
running out of steam
he couldn't cut the grade no more
the larger engines discouragement won
rolling through the hood they
they hung me on cinder blocks
tagged me like the train i am
bombing with burns
"ORIGINAL KRYLON KINGS"
amnesia font
groove
running down
mature nectar
sweet juice
jaw dropping
glaucous
you jackknifed into my heart
splashing in my pool
clean out the fiber filter
full of death
drown me out of breath
pretend
like it doesn't hurt
it throws me
in a shallow paupers grave
if you were rent
i'd be late
a liar
just to hear your voice
minx
landlord of Love
hurting like a hernia
i miss you so bad
splitting chests
an Axe murderer in the night
popping sternums cherry's
results may very
i'll turn them all against me in the end
A hopeless little engine that could
running out of steam
he couldn't cut the grade no more
the larger engines discouragement won
rolling through the hood they
they hung me on cinder blocks
tagged me like the train i am
bombing with burns
"ORIGINAL KRYLON KINGS"
amnesia font
Written by samael
(Zaroff poetry)
Go To Page
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http://i1290.photobucket.com/albums/b536/1willybugger/grfitti%20train%20art%20-%20Copy_zps4yplv8b1.png
Urban Poetry in Motion
Clickety-clack, clickety-clack, clack
Along a frozen Minneapolis
Inner city railroad track
It’s the Empire Builder rail line
Watch neon painted gondola cars
Marching by, one at a time
Invading this bleak industrial park
It interrupts a gray winter’s day
With a flash of kaleidoscope art
An artist’s ticker-tape cavalcade
In chromatic technicolored type
It’s vibrant urban poetry on parade
Urban Poetry in Motion
Clickety-clack, clickety-clack, clack
Along a frozen Minneapolis
Inner city railroad track
It’s the Empire Builder rail line
Watch neon painted gondola cars
Marching by, one at a time
Invading this bleak industrial park
It interrupts a gray winter’s day
With a flash of kaleidoscope art
An artist’s ticker-tape cavalcade
In chromatic technicolored type
It’s vibrant urban poetry on parade
