Poetry competition CLOSED 17th May 2018 9:34am
WINNER
Anonymous
Anonymous
RUNNER-UP:
composedWITHrazors
Tumultuous Darkness
Poetry Contest Description
From feelings that can not be put into one word or sentence. Not about evil (good, or rage) rather the things that brand you. Through experience, or real empathy. The best of these writings will not be thoughtless or thrown together without reason.
Hopefully these writings that you're about to read,
are not without compassion and turmoil from thee.
There will be others here, that try to compare;
will leave us here, only to sit and stare.
Only a brash, and thought felt object like a simile,
or if you prefer, a metaphor, contemplating all of our identity;
within a cave a new Sybil that will soon to be.
If anything, show me your dark (so I call it) tales to me,
where you are not just trying to give any such promotion
Let loose all your deep and dark, yet perhaps light, emotion.
This is a testament, for now, to your deepest mind's commotion.
An edit to all of you, that didn't like to join on just this commodity
A set of rules for you to follow; in case you like to win this absurdity.
For all of you that I will still include, a list here in simplicity.
Things that will win:
1. The best will be crowned by Me.
2. This is not a battle, so no points for knocking down another.
3. Imagery, rhyme, meter, originality.
Edit 2:
4. Five poems you may submit.
Edit 3:
5. Relevant to topic: 'Branded by Darkness.' There is also light to be had here if you're creative.
Though, I think (at least for me) the things that brand, are the ones that hurt the most.
Prove me wrong!
If you broke a nail, and want to write about how you flailed.
Do so that paints the picture of such trauma or glee, if that's your thing.
Edit 4:
Rule #3 is an all encompassing one. This edit is here to stress this rule. Though, it is likely that the winner will have these attributes, it is possible that they may not. I like to be surprised, and unbiased I will stay.
Edit 5:
I was going to save this one for the last week but I decided two weeks notice is pretty standard.
At the end, May 17th (no earlier,) I will accept a type of jury submission, PM (Private Message) me to vote on your favorite, again after the 17th of May. Top hits may direct Me to revisit a potentially overlooked passage.
I will still be the judge: Thoughtful and unbiased, Me.
are not without compassion and turmoil from thee.
There will be others here, that try to compare;
will leave us here, only to sit and stare.
Only a brash, and thought felt object like a simile,
or if you prefer, a metaphor, contemplating all of our identity;
within a cave a new Sybil that will soon to be.
If anything, show me your dark (so I call it) tales to me,
where you are not just trying to give any such promotion
Let loose all your deep and dark, yet perhaps light, emotion.
This is a testament, for now, to your deepest mind's commotion.
An edit to all of you, that didn't like to join on just this commodity
A set of rules for you to follow; in case you like to win this absurdity.
For all of you that I will still include, a list here in simplicity.
Things that will win:
1. The best will be crowned by Me.
2. This is not a battle, so no points for knocking down another.
3. Imagery, rhyme, meter, originality.
Edit 2:
4. Five poems you may submit.
Edit 3:
5. Relevant to topic: 'Branded by Darkness.' There is also light to be had here if you're creative.
Though, I think (at least for me) the things that brand, are the ones that hurt the most.
Prove me wrong!
If you broke a nail, and want to write about how you flailed.
Do so that paints the picture of such trauma or glee, if that's your thing.
Edit 4:
Rule #3 is an all encompassing one. This edit is here to stress this rule. Though, it is likely that the winner will have these attributes, it is possible that they may not. I like to be surprised, and unbiased I will stay.
Edit 5:
I was going to save this one for the last week but I decided two weeks notice is pretty standard.
At the end, May 17th (no earlier,) I will accept a type of jury submission, PM (Private Message) me to vote on your favorite, again after the 17th of May. Top hits may direct Me to revisit a potentially overlooked passage.
I will still be the judge: Thoughtful and unbiased, Me.
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
One Infernal Kiss
Within Ancient Memory , In The Vault Of My Subconscious Mind
There Is A Continual Stir , Yet A Blur , Of A Beast One Eye Blind ;
There Is A Den Of Snakes , And Spiders Webs , Darkened Sea That Flows And Ebbs ,
And A Wolf That Howls , Things That Prowl , An Unseen Face Beneath A Cowl ,
And A Sky Of Storm , And An Earth Of Fire , And Bodies Burnt On Funeral Pyre ,
A Forest Deep Of Deadly Intent , Ink Black Raven With Malice Sent , Fang And Blood
As Nourishment , A Call To Raise A Holy Hell , From The Bowels Of Chthonic Well ,
Invokation By Nether Spell , A Circle Round , Dancing Serpent Mound , Pan's Hooves
Beating Into The Ground , Court Unseelie And Wild Horde , A Place Where Leather
Winged Beings Soar , A Pit Of Bones , Dusty Tomes , And Unknown Ones Slink And
Roam , All Of This And So Much More , Sigils Traced Upon The Floor , A Hand As
Knocker On Demon Door , Psychotic Laughter , Black Silence After , Something
Moving Within The Rafters , A Clock Running In Reverse , To Where Time Itself
Becomes A Curse , An Abandoned Graveyard And Driverless Hearse , An Endless
Maze Walked By Beings Crazed , Those Skin Red From Being Flayed , And Made
To Hang Eternal , And All Of This , From One Long Slow Kiss From Her Lips Infernal ;
And No One Knows , These Depths Of Me , These Mysteries , I Must Keep Buried And
Not Let Them Free As I Waken From This Dream , And Enter This World Where Light
Is Seen
There Is A Continual Stir , Yet A Blur , Of A Beast One Eye Blind ;
There Is A Den Of Snakes , And Spiders Webs , Darkened Sea That Flows And Ebbs ,
And A Wolf That Howls , Things That Prowl , An Unseen Face Beneath A Cowl ,
And A Sky Of Storm , And An Earth Of Fire , And Bodies Burnt On Funeral Pyre ,
A Forest Deep Of Deadly Intent , Ink Black Raven With Malice Sent , Fang And Blood
As Nourishment , A Call To Raise A Holy Hell , From The Bowels Of Chthonic Well ,
Invokation By Nether Spell , A Circle Round , Dancing Serpent Mound , Pan's Hooves
Beating Into The Ground , Court Unseelie And Wild Horde , A Place Where Leather
Winged Beings Soar , A Pit Of Bones , Dusty Tomes , And Unknown Ones Slink And
Roam , All Of This And So Much More , Sigils Traced Upon The Floor , A Hand As
Knocker On Demon Door , Psychotic Laughter , Black Silence After , Something
Moving Within The Rafters , A Clock Running In Reverse , To Where Time Itself
Becomes A Curse , An Abandoned Graveyard And Driverless Hearse , An Endless
Maze Walked By Beings Crazed , Those Skin Red From Being Flayed , And Made
To Hang Eternal , And All Of This , From One Long Slow Kiss From Her Lips Infernal ;
And No One Knows , These Depths Of Me , These Mysteries , I Must Keep Buried And
Not Let Them Free As I Waken From This Dream , And Enter This World Where Light
Is Seen
Written by Blackwolf
(I.M.Blackwolf)
Go To Page
Very nice imagery, as well as rhyme, Black Wolf. An excellent example (in my opinion) of recreation through either empathy -at least that is how I would do such work- or talented imagination. Either way you painted the portrait of a ritual (of sort) quite well. Not only, (still trying not to spoil for others) that you tied in many prejudices of such.
I would like to nominate you, Black Wolf as the current beholder
Apologies to Icarus, for the rules were not posted.
I would like to nominate you, Black Wolf as the current beholder
Apologies to Icarus, for the rules were not posted.
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Dark (K)night
Oh yes I talk about trying, don't pardon me
Innocence has nothing to fear, this is what hardened me
Just quit man, give up, be the pawn in world chess these thought never cordon me
Rise for you may not reign, but rise for you may be right.. this is the lesson that gardened me
I was in the zone too, I still feel low at times, but I fought and will fight everytime, atleast now I know what my stardom is
Never counted much on anyone, because sometimes when did I got to know what the word phantom means
And trust me I do have dreadful nightmares, but i don't let them warden me
Because what's much bigger and brighter is my dream and the ones I want to live it with, that is what that heartens me
Over expectations, just like over exposure to light, gives you darkened s(K)in
Same people, same situation but different faces, realised allotropes are not found in carbon only
Was down and low and in pieces, survived, now I am coming thundering for the win
Dream, travel, love, express, experience so the world knows you not just some iron molding
Everyone's at war, some fighting for glory, some voicing their story.. latter is how i unburden me
Miseries in abundance, it's HOPE that forms the basis of my ardent leap
Innocence has nothing to fear, this is what hardened me
Just quit man, give up, be the pawn in world chess these thought never cordon me
Rise for you may not reign, but rise for you may be right.. this is the lesson that gardened me
I was in the zone too, I still feel low at times, but I fought and will fight everytime, atleast now I know what my stardom is
Never counted much on anyone, because sometimes when did I got to know what the word phantom means
And trust me I do have dreadful nightmares, but i don't let them warden me
Because what's much bigger and brighter is my dream and the ones I want to live it with, that is what that heartens me
Over expectations, just like over exposure to light, gives you darkened s(K)in
Same people, same situation but different faces, realised allotropes are not found in carbon only
Was down and low and in pieces, survived, now I am coming thundering for the win
Dream, travel, love, express, experience so the world knows you not just some iron molding
Everyone's at war, some fighting for glory, some voicing their story.. latter is how i unburden me
Miseries in abundance, it's HOPE that forms the basis of my ardent leap
Written by SaWal
Go To Page
i am
i am the great pretender
the master of the art you see
i am this unabashed offender
act like this love is a mystery
this love is a story i sell
while you nurse your strawberry gashes
pretend to empathise with your version of hell
playing pj harvey and bat for lashes
maybe one time before
love filled my heart
i felt some feelings i could explore
now no epinerfrine can ever restart
i get one weak beat
when i cause you emotional distress
your pain is my pain on repeat
my selfish hunger for feeling i confess
i light a candle in the dark
spray scent on my cold dead chest
is that florence and the machine you remark
your tears of my rejection are the best
dont care if you leave in grey morning
im dead and dont need your warm press
i died inside, only i was mourning
kiss of sleep was offered and i said yes
perhaps a vamipre hypnotising
i can crush every aorta
these are the mirror heartbreaks im revising
before i take your fragile emotions out to slaughter
i am a paper gangsta pretenda
who fills his own head with lies
this cardboard monsters propaganda
its not those girls its myself i despise
please
restart
my
heart
the master of the art you see
i am this unabashed offender
act like this love is a mystery
this love is a story i sell
while you nurse your strawberry gashes
pretend to empathise with your version of hell
playing pj harvey and bat for lashes
maybe one time before
love filled my heart
i felt some feelings i could explore
now no epinerfrine can ever restart
i get one weak beat
when i cause you emotional distress
your pain is my pain on repeat
my selfish hunger for feeling i confess
i light a candle in the dark
spray scent on my cold dead chest
is that florence and the machine you remark
your tears of my rejection are the best
dont care if you leave in grey morning
im dead and dont need your warm press
i died inside, only i was mourning
kiss of sleep was offered and i said yes
perhaps a vamipre hypnotising
i can crush every aorta
these are the mirror heartbreaks im revising
before i take your fragile emotions out to slaughter
i am a paper gangsta pretenda
who fills his own head with lies
this cardboard monsters propaganda
its not those girls its myself i despise
please
restart
my
heart
Written by composedWITHrazors
(Blade Artist)
Go To Page
The Grim Reality
There is nothing but bleakness and devastation in the horrid world of ours
Humans are nothing but parasitic worms of destruction
Annihlating everything in our path through war and famine
We are earth’s method of committing suicide destroying the core of everything it stood for
We claim to bear kindness and grace, that our religions contribute to the fortunes of unshakable masses.
We are shambling corpses consumed by hate and violence dreaming new methods of further sealing our demise
There is no god, there is no external almighty power, only the cries of infants and their mothers begging for coin suffering from the plagues of organisms recognizing our own futility
The darkness exists within us all, the capability to tap into our most primal instincts, to fuck, to kill, and to profit.
We extend our own piles filth and decay into towers built on the mangled corpses of those who labored in its construction.
There is no good in this world, nothing pure, nothing innocent.
Society is a construct of human pretentiousness, an excuse to live as murderers and rapists
In the end we are nothing but senseless rodents in a grand universe conspiring against us.
Fame is nothing but the shallow workings of pathetic slobs who choose to believe humans could be greater than themselves
Some claiming themselves to be gods when born into conditions aiding in the accomplishment of their hollow status.
Some are not famous for any discernible reason and simply leach off of public curiosity as the idle masses witnesses gawk at any mindless spectacle in their visage
The Lovecraftian laws of reality will devour the wicked, digesting their spirits within a sea of madness and hysteria. There is no room for thieves, devout in the heinous thoughts and ideologies, they shall dwell within the pits of Hades, slave laborers to their own righteous causes.
History is an endless wave of horrid tragedies entangling themselves within the fallout of previous tragedies.
A spider’s web of eternal pain and suffering, neatly recorded within tiny notebooks detailing the nature of the crime.
The beasts of politics roar in their skyscraper sized pulpits declaring the inferiority of supposed lesser beings, those who with the audacity to experience humble lives never centered on crushing invisible enemies.
Perhaps not all of humanity is evil, perhaps there are those who simply wish to live an ordinary existence.
This writer is not one of those people, this writer chooses to write about the folly of the working man and woman and transgender, and the corruption to which befalls them
Documenting pain and suffering and horror within a rudimentary sketchbook and dismally ineffective computational device.
It has been quite some time since I’ve discussed the horror of everyday society within the confines of a simplistic narrative written to entertain the violent minded individuals which comprise the majority of mainstream society.
It gives me pleasure to indulge in the darkness humanity possesses. I would never choose to carry out the actions dominating my interests.
Humans are nothing but parasitic worms of destruction
Annihlating everything in our path through war and famine
We are earth’s method of committing suicide destroying the core of everything it stood for
We claim to bear kindness and grace, that our religions contribute to the fortunes of unshakable masses.
We are shambling corpses consumed by hate and violence dreaming new methods of further sealing our demise
There is no god, there is no external almighty power, only the cries of infants and their mothers begging for coin suffering from the plagues of organisms recognizing our own futility
The darkness exists within us all, the capability to tap into our most primal instincts, to fuck, to kill, and to profit.
We extend our own piles filth and decay into towers built on the mangled corpses of those who labored in its construction.
There is no good in this world, nothing pure, nothing innocent.
Society is a construct of human pretentiousness, an excuse to live as murderers and rapists
In the end we are nothing but senseless rodents in a grand universe conspiring against us.
Fame is nothing but the shallow workings of pathetic slobs who choose to believe humans could be greater than themselves
Some claiming themselves to be gods when born into conditions aiding in the accomplishment of their hollow status.
Some are not famous for any discernible reason and simply leach off of public curiosity as the idle masses witnesses gawk at any mindless spectacle in their visage
The Lovecraftian laws of reality will devour the wicked, digesting their spirits within a sea of madness and hysteria. There is no room for thieves, devout in the heinous thoughts and ideologies, they shall dwell within the pits of Hades, slave laborers to their own righteous causes.
History is an endless wave of horrid tragedies entangling themselves within the fallout of previous tragedies.
A spider’s web of eternal pain and suffering, neatly recorded within tiny notebooks detailing the nature of the crime.
The beasts of politics roar in their skyscraper sized pulpits declaring the inferiority of supposed lesser beings, those who with the audacity to experience humble lives never centered on crushing invisible enemies.
Perhaps not all of humanity is evil, perhaps there are those who simply wish to live an ordinary existence.
This writer is not one of those people, this writer chooses to write about the folly of the working man and woman and transgender, and the corruption to which befalls them
Documenting pain and suffering and horror within a rudimentary sketchbook and dismally ineffective computational device.
It has been quite some time since I’ve discussed the horror of everyday society within the confines of a simplistic narrative written to entertain the violent minded individuals which comprise the majority of mainstream society.
It gives me pleasure to indulge in the darkness humanity possesses. I would never choose to carry out the actions dominating my interests.
Written by Madbuttonhatter
(Ryan R Morgan)
Go To Page
I Been A Dancin' With The Devil
I Got Just A Little Thing To Say , I Got Some Words To Write
Are You Hungry For Soul Speak You Know It Might Just Bite
I Been A Dancin' With The Devil , And She Whispered To Me
Told Me A Thing Or Two Or Three She Spoke Of A Great Mystery
She Talked Of Power Over And Then Talked Of Power With
She Talked Of Love Talked Of Sex And The Power Of Their Myths
She Showed Me A World Burnin' As It Was Turning With It's Passion
And Those Seeking Always Their Own Satisfaction Fuck The Reaction
She Showed Me Pain Of Those Driven Insane , By The Pressure On Their Brain ,
By The Darkness Of Some Hearts Some Who Do Not Care , Souls Laid Bare
Who Will Strip You , Rip You , Rape You , Then Take You Down As They Fall
Who Will Hurt You Just To Hurt You Then Ask You Why You Did Not Call
As They Wail , And They Pound Another Nail For Just A Pound Of Flesh ,
Then They Dare To Demand , Without Fail , By Their Hand , For You To Confess
She Showed Me The Devil's Dance , And Snake Eyes And just Take A Chance ,
Roll Of The Dice , Gave Me Her Number It Was Thirteen , And Said Just Keep In Touch
All I Said , Is What I Mean , Not Just Circumstance In Some Lover's Dark Romance
Now You Know , I Gotta Go , But Just Know This With A Kiss I Love You Very Very Much !
Are You Hungry For Soul Speak You Know It Might Just Bite
I Been A Dancin' With The Devil , And She Whispered To Me
Told Me A Thing Or Two Or Three She Spoke Of A Great Mystery
She Talked Of Power Over And Then Talked Of Power With
She Talked Of Love Talked Of Sex And The Power Of Their Myths
She Showed Me A World Burnin' As It Was Turning With It's Passion
And Those Seeking Always Their Own Satisfaction Fuck The Reaction
She Showed Me Pain Of Those Driven Insane , By The Pressure On Their Brain ,
By The Darkness Of Some Hearts Some Who Do Not Care , Souls Laid Bare
Who Will Strip You , Rip You , Rape You , Then Take You Down As They Fall
Who Will Hurt You Just To Hurt You Then Ask You Why You Did Not Call
As They Wail , And They Pound Another Nail For Just A Pound Of Flesh ,
Then They Dare To Demand , Without Fail , By Their Hand , For You To Confess
She Showed Me The Devil's Dance , And Snake Eyes And just Take A Chance ,
Roll Of The Dice , Gave Me Her Number It Was Thirteen , And Said Just Keep In Touch
All I Said , Is What I Mean , Not Just Circumstance In Some Lover's Dark Romance
Now You Know , I Gotta Go , But Just Know This With A Kiss I Love You Very Very Much !
Written by Blackwolf
(I.M.Blackwolf)
Go To Page
A bit sadistic, I must admit,
because I'm entertained by
callous visions, and reiterations
described within, such submissions
experiences, and descriptions so
fair these things I won't remit
go, keep going; we're just getting started.
As far as leadership, I will have to revoke the previously stated. It seems that there will be many great contenders and until later, can I decide the winner.
because I'm entertained by
callous visions, and reiterations
described within, such submissions
experiences, and descriptions so
fair these things I won't remit
go, keep going; we're just getting started.
As far as leadership, I will have to revoke the previously stated. It seems that there will be many great contenders and until later, can I decide the winner.
“Empathy”
A quite inspired relation to all those,
Quarrels, and qualms, I let go my foes
live and treat the others all unrealistically
Unreasonably, respectfully, eventually
This hurts me, try to stay humble, really.
Darkness has given me a crash course
In empathy, helped to see others remorse
This source, leaves me hoarse, subconsciously
Statistically, unbelievably, historically
It’s left me, sad in melancholy.
Empathy, a great burden left on me,
many times I wish I could be free
heavy things to carry, as I might
conceit, might (have) respite
May not be right, just grit teeth tight.
Just throwing this in for inspiration.
Anonymous
