Poetry competition CLOSED 17th October 2018 4:26am
WINNER
cold_fusion
cold_fusion
RUNNERS-UP:
Jade-Pandora
and Medinda
The Unreasonable Man
Poetry Contest Description
Examine Shaw's assertion, either pro or con, in any form you like!
The reasonable man adapts himself to the world: the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.
― George Bernard Shaw, Man and Superman
It would be ironic to make rules for the unreasonable. Instead, I will note that the winner will be chosen by public vote.
Insanity?
Keep doing the same thing
Expecting something different
That's insane they say
I'll have it my way
I can prove their intelligence
Is flawed, not seeing
Persistence pays
Keep pushing against the ground
It will move for me
I can move mountains
By planting my mustard seed
And the ocean will roar
Devouring my enemies
When I spread my wings
A butterfly makes the world
change in time
They will see and awe
Unbelieving the truth
There is no insanity
Different perceptions only
The world is mine
Expecting something different
That's insane they say
I'll have it my way
I can prove their intelligence
Is flawed, not seeing
Persistence pays
Keep pushing against the ground
It will move for me
I can move mountains
By planting my mustard seed
And the ocean will roar
Devouring my enemies
When I spread my wings
A butterfly makes the world
change in time
They will see and awe
Unbelieving the truth
There is no insanity
Different perceptions only
The world is mine
Written by Medinda
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Empty Bowl
“Strength does not come from winning. Your struggles develop your strengths. When you go through hardships and decide not to surrender, that is strength.”
When I’d been diagnosed,
It was the first string of
Medical jab & sting
Over the years
In longer worms
Of consequences
From that first recognition.
But it was the first one, as it
Fled the doctor's lips
Like a gypsy moth.
His stolen words,
Crude & mute,
That flew in my ear
With rice flour wings.
Before then, I was immortal,
Afraid of nothing nada nil.
Even spiders that spin
Caught in a web.
Denying wee things.
Now I had tiny creatures
Secretly growing inside me.
I'd rather have had a bowl of
Goldfish or a puppy my own
And make it my friend.
My friend would be
Middle-aged
In dog years by now,
Taking care of me instead.
But that's just it. I am still here
And my friend never was.
Yet an influence to me
In many ways
As is a dog prone,
To give my pause paws
When it’s one of those days
Which are sadists, resolved
To lay me low I cannot see,
For any time l let my
Blithe spirit slump.
A fat groundhog
Coming out to find
Six more weeks of winter.
But I’ll be much worse off
If I didn’t ask of my life
To fill my empty bowl.
When no one but I
Can show God
What I need, not want,
If there’s hope diagnosed.
Copyright©️2018 Jade Pandora. All Rights Reserved.
NaPo/GloPoWriMo 2018
Written by Jade-Pandora
(jade tiger)
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STOP LOOKING!
Stop looking for it
The solutions to your problems
Are all around you
They always have been
They always will be
Stop looking for them
For the love of everything
And everyone you hold dear
Stop looking!
The solutions to your problems
Are all around you
They always have been
They always will be
Stop looking for them
For the love of everything
And everyone you hold dear
Stop looking!
Written by SatInUGal
(Kumar)
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ReggiePoet said:P.S.
The fact that G.B.S. has a strong resemblance to my avatar, William Ernest Henley, is purely coincidental! Victorian gentlemen all look alike to us now.
Is that who they are? ... I thought one was Conor McGregor ... oddly enough Victorian men look like every other guy you see today with the grizzly beard look, replete with tattoos ...
...but I digress ... will come back with an entry.
The fact that G.B.S. has a strong resemblance to my avatar, William Ernest Henley, is purely coincidental! Victorian gentlemen all look alike to us now.
Is that who they are? ... I thought one was Conor McGregor ... oddly enough Victorian men look like every other guy you see today with the grizzly beard look, replete with tattoos ...
...but I digress ... will come back with an entry.
A Beautiful Struggle
Love is beautiful and tragic, magnificent and overwhelming
You fall in it and suddenly you feel alive
Feeling life in every memory you share
Until it’s gone
Then how are you supposed to live
Knowing you will never feel his lips touch yours again
It’s agonizing
But we all take this risk at the chance of finding the one that will give us life forever
At the chance of never having to say goodbye
This is what we live for
It is a beautiful struggle
You fall in it and suddenly you feel alive
Feeling life in every memory you share
Until it’s gone
Then how are you supposed to live
Knowing you will never feel his lips touch yours again
It’s agonizing
But we all take this risk at the chance of finding the one that will give us life forever
At the chance of never having to say goodbye
This is what we live for
It is a beautiful struggle
Written by Stargazed
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stick it to them ?
I sense a personality that pricks
and pokes just for the fun of it
and uses words like pointed sticks
uncouth but to arrogant to admit
Just like an awfully spoil't child
a tantrum in the supermarket isle
placate me with what I want
or awkwardness is my response
inherent of that ginger gene
a rebel with no empathy
recalcitrant no sense of fun
stick your finger up your social sum
throw your toys of of the pram
thats the easy option man
a point of view from different peaks
yours is just so full of shit
spit at the world not shake its hand
not hug it close through good and bad
outcast yourself for publicity
the easy sound bites cost is free
engineering medicine and science
don't progress with that sort of bias
collaboration as any writer knows
is not metaphorically throwing stones
the contempt of notoriety
overbearing false philosophy
enticement to always disagree
Shaws self depiction thats graffiti
and pokes just for the fun of it
and uses words like pointed sticks
uncouth but to arrogant to admit
Just like an awfully spoil't child
a tantrum in the supermarket isle
placate me with what I want
or awkwardness is my response
inherent of that ginger gene
a rebel with no empathy
recalcitrant no sense of fun
stick your finger up your social sum
throw your toys of of the pram
thats the easy option man
a point of view from different peaks
yours is just so full of shit
spit at the world not shake its hand
not hug it close through good and bad
outcast yourself for publicity
the easy sound bites cost is free
engineering medicine and science
don't progress with that sort of bias
collaboration as any writer knows
is not metaphorically throwing stones
the contempt of notoriety
overbearing false philosophy
enticement to always disagree
Shaws self depiction thats graffiti
Written by slipalong
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TomShields said:I'm loving each of these, I can't wait to enter what I've written for this contest. Quick question from a greenhorn, is there a FAQ for competition forums?
There isn't a FAQ, because each member host tends to make their own rules for their competitions.
However, the help section can answer general questions about competitions, or allow you to pose your own:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/questions/
You can also ask questions in the Welcome Party group:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/groups/welcome-party/discussion/
Hope that helps
There isn't a FAQ, because each member host tends to make their own rules for their competitions.
However, the help section can answer general questions about competitions, or allow you to pose your own:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/questions/
You can also ask questions in the Welcome Party group:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/groups/welcome-party/discussion/
Hope that helps
Stiff Competition
"How do you intend to win?"
He's already won in his mind's eye
"I'm not going to try."
"Well what then?"
"To attempt is a submission, we won't participate."
"How does success come if you do not?"
"I have forgone the victory to myself, I won't give it a second thought."
"You've yet to win, you've got no prize! Will you please just concentrate?"
"Not for even a second, place your hand steady."
"Honestly, man, we haven't time for games, are you going to concede to lose?"
His mind's eye met with mine, and asked if I was ready
"No, sir, you know far better that I am going to win the contest as I choose."
"You are mad! Progress is not a calm river you can swim against."
"I'll be sure to tell that to all those overboard when I am ferrying across it hence."
He clicked his heels and crossed the room, puffing a pipe; mimicking a steamboat
"You are going to fail in this endeavor, most certainly, most assuredly, and what a fool you will be."
"The wife would be at my throat...
A wager! Come along, and if I lose then you may cover the costs of the entry fee."
"Why in Sam Hill do you think those are conditions to which I would ever agree?"
"Well, simply put, old chap, you see, you do not know for sure that I will not emerge with victory."
I harumphed at him and let him swindle me.
Written by TomShields
(Evilhappy)
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alchoholic
i pour a drink on my glass
i took a sip and remembered my past
i was good and was never been this bad
i was happy and never been this sad
i was the best
i never drink this much
i never took a punch
i bled and cried
why did i become this kind of guy
i became addicted
and destroyed
i took a sip and remembered my past
i was good and was never been this bad
i was happy and never been this sad
i was the best
i never drink this much
i never took a punch
i bled and cried
why did i become this kind of guy
i became addicted
and destroyed
Written by KGERICD
(Kurt Geric Dili)
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Related submission no longer exists.
I've outgrown the need to tiptoe
I etched a fence - a cold water fjord
to hoard myself
to keep these shores from you
And I cracked some stencils
my pencil pressings
come on to strong;
so I leave myself
where I please
The lines...
they think they know how they should lie
Oh,
the confines ease their eyelids closed
at night
But they detest;
us, the stabber of gaps
in their tidy
typical packaging
Red, raw eyewhites blink...
we cheat them of their dividends
of sleep
to hoard myself
to keep these shores from you
And I cracked some stencils
my pencil pressings
come on to strong;
so I leave myself
where I please
The lines...
they think they know how they should lie
Oh,
the confines ease their eyelids closed
at night
But they detest;
us, the stabber of gaps
in their tidy
typical packaging
Red, raw eyewhites blink...
we cheat them of their dividends
of sleep
Written by AtoMikbomb
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