Poetry competition CLOSED 25th August 2018 3:33pm
WINNER
Heaven_sent_Kathy
Heaven_sent_Kathy
RUNNERS-UP:
Zaynab_kamoonpury
and ReggiePoet
Fleeting Inspiration
sentenced
Newborn words will flow out the pen
So often seemingly to ink themselves
From places unknown time and again
Never wonders far from bookshelves,
Dressing up the thought consummate
A conjugate that never procrastinates
Unlike some that can't wait to be late
Instead the words flow with no delay,
Well...only if the well is flowing, then ok...
A sentenced line lays low on induction
So a font the internalized construction
The walls are a deconstructed passion
With doors, the unlocked compassion,
Breaking out of the self-inflicting zone
Those bloody muddy ideas of low shit
Making a mockery of the truth known
And the process we are taught to spit,
While the new pen will just wait and sit...
And never need repent
Of lies that were spent
Writing of untrue sin
With made up bend
On our life road
With no end...
So often seemingly to ink themselves
From places unknown time and again
Never wonders far from bookshelves,
Dressing up the thought consummate
A conjugate that never procrastinates
Unlike some that can't wait to be late
Instead the words flow with no delay,
Well...only if the well is flowing, then ok...
A sentenced line lays low on induction
So a font the internalized construction
The walls are a deconstructed passion
With doors, the unlocked compassion,
Breaking out of the self-inflicting zone
Those bloody muddy ideas of low shit
Making a mockery of the truth known
And the process we are taught to spit,
While the new pen will just wait and sit...
And never need repent
Of lies that were spent
Writing of untrue sin
With made up bend
On our life road
With no end...
Written by runaway-mindtrain
Go To Page
The warm and fuzzies
My pen used to be filled
With my tears
From heartbreak
I’d spread my tears
Over the pages
Spilling my soul
Since I met you
My heart doesn’t cry
So my pens run dry
Instead I feel
Warm and fuzzy
Sweet and lovey
There’s a tenderness
In my body
Aching for you
There’s a softness
In my voice
When I talk to you
I get nervous
And shy
Just at the thought of you
Forgive me
I’m not good at writing
Love poems
You see
I had no inspiration
Until I met you
With my tears
From heartbreak
I’d spread my tears
Over the pages
Spilling my soul
Since I met you
My heart doesn’t cry
So my pens run dry
Instead I feel
Warm and fuzzy
Sweet and lovey
There’s a tenderness
In my body
Aching for you
There’s a softness
In my voice
When I talk to you
I get nervous
And shy
Just at the thought of you
Forgive me
I’m not good at writing
Love poems
You see
I had no inspiration
Until I met you
Written by Heart_symphony
Go To Page
Related submission no longer exists.
Art?
It's a chipped frame - pane
tacky upon touch - finely flaking
depictions of unknowns
authorship of mute convictions...
coaxings from the heart of Nox
alleys - murals mildew
galleries where no one walks
It's umber pigments
pooled in Scarborough rows
of gold on mango
dandelion medallions
diffusing hues
for use by fertile hands
It's lungs of bellows
catching tradewinds
mixing molten silks - all those glosses...
unstirred by dross
bending blended motes
They sway
devotedly
dancing glasses
amassing...emoting...
It's scritching
graphite whispers
on chaste pasty maiden pages
in bashful nights
compositions with covers spread - awaiting
progressions into those
sweet
tight
bindings
down slits...tight little seams
ink gestating into dreams
The lust of soul
to become seen
tacky upon touch - finely flaking
depictions of unknowns
authorship of mute convictions...
coaxings from the heart of Nox
alleys - murals mildew
galleries where no one walks
It's umber pigments
pooled in Scarborough rows
of gold on mango
dandelion medallions
diffusing hues
for use by fertile hands
It's lungs of bellows
catching tradewinds
mixing molten silks - all those glosses...
unstirred by dross
bending blended motes
They sway
devotedly
dancing glasses
amassing...emoting...
It's scritching
graphite whispers
on chaste pasty maiden pages
in bashful nights
compositions with covers spread - awaiting
progressions into those
sweet
tight
bindings
down slits...tight little seams
ink gestating into dreams
The lust of soul
to become seen
Written by AtoMikbomb
Go To Page
Anonymous
Related submission no longer exists.
About A Girl
Your physique is like none other
To me that is why you are special
I love that hair so soft and clean
I would really love to make you my queen
Voice like hearing a heavenly choir
Lips like kissing fire
Piercing eyes that triggers my smile
Tone so slick
Ass like magic
Hips just thick
You the one I want to be with
To me that is why you are special
I love that hair so soft and clean
I would really love to make you my queen
Voice like hearing a heavenly choir
Lips like kissing fire
Piercing eyes that triggers my smile
Tone so slick
Ass like magic
Hips just thick
You the one I want to be with
Written by Dre_k47
(AnDre James)
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Strive for ourselvs
They say that beauty is only skin deep, but beauty is In the eye of the beholder..
Now to be vulnerable is to let another in.
This is into our fears our doubts our losses and into our hearts.
To let your self feel truelly vulnerable you must have courage.
Courage is somthing that burns with in you, this courage will ignite your soul,
Your soul fires your passion, this is your passion for life, your passion for love and your passion for others.
Our passion will drive us to the peace we seek most.
A peace around us and a peace within our self's. But This place of serenity, tranquility and beauty already dwells with in you.
And with every beautiful smile the world will see it too......
Now to be vulnerable is to let another in.
This is into our fears our doubts our losses and into our hearts.
To let your self feel truelly vulnerable you must have courage.
Courage is somthing that burns with in you, this courage will ignite your soul,
Your soul fires your passion, this is your passion for life, your passion for love and your passion for others.
Our passion will drive us to the peace we seek most.
A peace around us and a peace within our self's. But This place of serenity, tranquility and beauty already dwells with in you.
And with every beautiful smile the world will see it too......
Written by Breakingbenjamin
(Benjamin)
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The High Shelf
I want to become someone else today.
And, in wishing it down from the high shelf,
Will this in fact bring out more of myself.
In my chair I rock to a slow cadence.
A mantel clock between my shoulder blades.
A timpani within a symphony.
Clever, how the first rain of fall arrives
As the introduction is preceded
By a trembling percussion of thunder.
I rise to gaze through the rain-flecked window.
But the someone else that I will become
Shall not think twice to leave & greet the storm.
And, in wishing it down from the high shelf,
Will this in fact bring out more of myself.
In my chair I rock to a slow cadence.
A mantel clock between my shoulder blades.
A timpani within a symphony.
Clever, how the first rain of fall arrives
As the introduction is preceded
By a trembling percussion of thunder.
I rise to gaze through the rain-flecked window.
But the someone else that I will become
Shall not think twice to leave & greet the storm.
Written by Heaven_sent_Kathy
Go To Page
Fleeting Inspiration All Around
The words that form and take shape in my head
Like musical notes or when your body has all
The right curves. My pen that captures the bed
And its messy sheets. When the once solid wall
Begins crumbling and breaking. You emerge from
The shadows like an angel I am seeing in the light
For the first time. Thoughts that used to squirm
And wiggle, but they are staying firmly in place
Like the walls I used to build sky high. It is when
I am finding myself wanting to follow and trace
My hands up or down her spine, taking my pen,
Searching for imperfections that I realize this is
All the inspiration I need right before me. All of
This extra background noise will fade and fizz
Away until there is nothing left, but love.
Like musical notes or when your body has all
The right curves. My pen that captures the bed
And its messy sheets. When the once solid wall
Begins crumbling and breaking. You emerge from
The shadows like an angel I am seeing in the light
For the first time. Thoughts that used to squirm
And wiggle, but they are staying firmly in place
Like the walls I used to build sky high. It is when
I am finding myself wanting to follow and trace
My hands up or down her spine, taking my pen,
Searching for imperfections that I realize this is
All the inspiration I need right before me. All of
This extra background noise will fade and fizz
Away until there is nothing left, but love.
Written by eswaller
Go To Page
My Angelic muse
Walking the darkest Broadways of life
An angel descended onto me with the sweetest touch
She told me she wanted to talk for while
She said "if you need a friend you can always call on me
Take my hand and we can run free"
A tear fell off my eye
She pulled me in with the sweetest smile
She said "I'mI'm always in your heart
I know how it beats and the vastness of it love
I know your thoughts and I've seen the brightness of your smile"
She said "II forgot to introduce myself Im Muse
And I'm your tool
I'm that fire you feel deep within
I'm the beauty in your imagination you see
She said I'll never leave your side
From today and forever you'll have me as some you'll call mine"
I might not have the world in my arms
But I know I'll always have her by my side
She's the greatest thing to ever happen to me
She's my dear friend
She's my Muse
An angel descended onto me with the sweetest touch
She told me she wanted to talk for while
She said "if you need a friend you can always call on me
Take my hand and we can run free"
A tear fell off my eye
She pulled me in with the sweetest smile
She said "I'mI'm always in your heart
I know how it beats and the vastness of it love
I know your thoughts and I've seen the brightness of your smile"
She said "II forgot to introduce myself Im Muse
And I'm your tool
I'm that fire you feel deep within
I'm the beauty in your imagination you see
She said I'll never leave your side
From today and forever you'll have me as some you'll call mine"
I might not have the world in my arms
But I know I'll always have her by my side
She's the greatest thing to ever happen to me
She's my dear friend
She's my Muse
Written by poetOftragedy
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A bleeding heart still pounds
I've been hurt
I've been kicked to the dirt
I've fallen and I've been dragged
I have sqweelled, I have begged
I've been left behind, left for dead
But you showed me, a bleeding heart still pounds
I have failed
And I have to this day
I lost my vision, I lost my way
I have chocked,I run out of things to say
I died, what was left was to decay
Bit by bit I faded away like vapourizing Clay
But you showed me, a bleeding heart still pounds
You held my head
And never let go of my hand
You sew back what was left to let
When the chips were down, You were my friend
You picked me up when I was down
You removed fear and eradicated my doubt
All the love I thought was lost, you found
You bought me peace, so safe and sound
And you showed me,a bleeding heart still pounds
I've been kicked to the dirt
I've fallen and I've been dragged
I have sqweelled, I have begged
I've been left behind, left for dead
But you showed me, a bleeding heart still pounds
I have failed
And I have to this day
I lost my vision, I lost my way
I have chocked,I run out of things to say
I died, what was left was to decay
Bit by bit I faded away like vapourizing Clay
But you showed me, a bleeding heart still pounds
You held my head
And never let go of my hand
You sew back what was left to let
When the chips were down, You were my friend
You picked me up when I was down
You removed fear and eradicated my doubt
All the love I thought was lost, you found
You bought me peace, so safe and sound
And you showed me,a bleeding heart still pounds
Written by poetOftragedy
Go To Page
The Innocence Slips Away
The innocence slips away,
When it gives way to adolescence
As does anything with the passage of time,
And in the realization of truth,
The wool is pulled from over our eyes,
We weep somewhere inside,
When the virtue is gone,
Forever lost.
But it’s a cycle,
One of life’s harsh realities,
When the world takes sudden claim of naivety,
It swallows it complete,
So gone are the days of gullible looks,
Curious smiles filled with wonder,
Fleeting into the passages of memory.
Therein lies the dilemma,
Saddened for that which is inevitable,
Holding on to cherished recollections
That have flown away,
Knowing we’ll never get them back,
Accepting it as fate.
But they become treasures,
Brief eclipses of the past and present,
Where entwined circumstances are like stars aligned,
Beautiful and blue all together,
Children growing up,
Losing a part of themselves,
Only to discover more.
In these fleeting moments
I have to pause to appreciate,
Because time will keep going
Without mercy or sympathy much to my dismay,
Because the world is always changing,
Reflective when the innocence slips away.
The innocence slips away,
When it gives way to adolescence
As does anything with the passage of time,
And in the realization of truth,
The wool is pulled from over our eyes,
We weep somewhere inside,
When the virtue is gone,
Forever lost.
But it’s a cycle,
One of life’s harsh realities,
When the world takes sudden claim of naivety,
It swallows it complete,
So gone are the days of gullible looks,
Curious smiles filled with wonder,
Fleeting into the passages of memory.
Therein lies the dilemma,
Saddened for that which is inevitable,
Holding on to cherished recollections
That have flown away,
Knowing we’ll never get them back,
Accepting it as fate.
But they become treasures,
Brief eclipses of the past and present,
Where entwined circumstances are like stars aligned,
Beautiful and blue all together,
Children growing up,
Losing a part of themselves,
Only to discover more.
In these fleeting moments
I have to pause to appreciate,
Because time will keep going
Without mercy or sympathy much to my dismay,
Because the world is always changing,
Reflective when the innocence slips away.
Inspirational Suicide Equality
Why do men commit suicide more often than women
Yet strangely, the truth is, women attempt it more
Are men just simply better at it than women
Are men just more macho or are they braver
Are more female suicides just cries for help
Are men more interested in death than help
Maybe men are just more serious about it
Men shoot themselves in the head more
Men hang themselves with a rope more
Men are more likely slit their own throat
Women tend, when they are serious about it
To favour drug overdoses, slitting wrists
In the bath or swallow diving from tall buildings
Men will jump in front of speeding trains
They will drive their cars into brick walls
Women tend to attempt suicide and fail more
Especially when they phone a friend or ambulance
More men end up on cold, marble slabs
It seems like men are not suicide equal
It seems men are superior at killing themselves
If women seriously want true equality
They are going to have to learn how
To successfully kill themselves
In much greater numbers
In this call for suicide equality
To be properly established
Go Ladies
Why do men commit suicide more often than women
Yet strangely, the truth is, women attempt it more
Are men just simply better at it than women
Are men just more macho or are they braver
Are more female suicides just cries for help
Are men more interested in death than help
Maybe men are just more serious about it
Men shoot themselves in the head more
Men hang themselves with a rope more
Men are more likely slit their own throat
Women tend, when they are serious about it
To favour drug overdoses, slitting wrists
In the bath or swallow diving from tall buildings
Men will jump in front of speeding trains
They will drive their cars into brick walls
Women tend to attempt suicide and fail more
Especially when they phone a friend or ambulance
More men end up on cold, marble slabs
It seems like men are not suicide equal
It seems men are superior at killing themselves
If women seriously want true equality
They are going to have to learn how
To successfully kill themselves
In much greater numbers
In this call for suicide equality
To be properly established
Go Ladies
Hi David, you forgot about women who do it by gas ovens and locked in a garage with the auto’s engine running. That wouldn’t work for me (no garage, and now, no car), and my oven is electric. (Sylvia Platt did the first, Anne Sexton did the second - both successfully.)
