Poetry competition CLOSED 28th February 2019 3:27am
WINNER
Ahavati (Tams)
Ahavati (Tams)
RUNNER-UP:
SatInUGal
Scramblegram
Anal Cabal
Prince Nala lie back
on an abaca hammock
enjoying fresh bacca
and masala under a gossamer
cabana aside the Ganges River—
natural light seeping
through its beautiful weave—
acacia-branched shadows
moving as smoke atop the fabric.
As servants tended blains
upon the soles of his feet,
he supped while contemplating
penning an alcaic verse
for his Princess Damayanti
( having been chosen
as her wedded husband
so many years ago ).
He gazed intently beyond
two binal banian trees
withered of their figs
for inspiration; his kingdom,
Nishadha had been blanched
by a cruel drought—
its greenery clinching to root;
canna gasping for life in cracked
bulbs cinched by death;
the laich-lands were becoming
no more than sand and clachs.
He thought of his family instead—
Damayanti, how their union
had been blessed by Gods
under a courtyard lanai
blanketed in liana for shade—
her chin cupped in his hand. . .
their two children now beacons.
And the one mistake that allowed
Kali’s malfic possession to sweep
him away in drunken merriment
and casting of the die—
stripped of all he possessed
for a season—abandoned family
lain with shame, destitution
was an inch from fateful destiny.
The fight was righteous
his restoration glorious!
The land was recovering;
fate blessed him with fruits
of peace and happiness—
O! Alas, Kali! Your anal
cabal suffered annialism;
the abaci calculations
allotted you but seconds
on the scale of infinity—
and what was taken
was returned tenfold.
As a reminder to the perils
of bacchanalianism and gambling
it is recorded still in the annal
of 12th century text, Nishadha Charita,
in the Sanskrit literature of Mahabharata.
All Praise be to Allah!
Prince Nala dipped quill in ink—
then smiled.
~
on an abaca hammock
enjoying fresh bacca
and masala under a gossamer
cabana aside the Ganges River—
natural light seeping
through its beautiful weave—
acacia-branched shadows
moving as smoke atop the fabric.
As servants tended blains
upon the soles of his feet,
he supped while contemplating
penning an alcaic verse
for his Princess Damayanti
( having been chosen
as her wedded husband
so many years ago ).
He gazed intently beyond
two binal banian trees
withered of their figs
for inspiration; his kingdom,
Nishadha had been blanched
by a cruel drought—
its greenery clinching to root;
canna gasping for life in cracked
bulbs cinched by death;
the laich-lands were becoming
no more than sand and clachs.
He thought of his family instead—
Damayanti, how their union
had been blessed by Gods
under a courtyard lanai
blanketed in liana for shade—
her chin cupped in his hand. . .
their two children now beacons.
And the one mistake that allowed
Kali’s malfic possession to sweep
him away in drunken merriment
and casting of the die—
stripped of all he possessed
for a season—abandoned family
lain with shame, destitution
was an inch from fateful destiny.
The fight was righteous
his restoration glorious!
The land was recovering;
fate blessed him with fruits
of peace and happiness—
O! Alas, Kali! Your anal
cabal suffered annialism;
the abaci calculations
allotted you but seconds
on the scale of infinity—
and what was taken
was returned tenfold.
As a reminder to the perils
of bacchanalianism and gambling
it is recorded still in the annal
of 12th century text, Nishadha Charita,
in the Sanskrit literature of Mahabharata.
All Praise be to Allah!
Prince Nala dipped quill in ink—
then smiled.
~
Written by Ahavati
(Tams)
Go To Page
Praise be to all f'n gods it's over.
Heading Towards Success
We live in a[b] rat[/b]/i] [i]race
As we run after success
A way of life we deemed to be the best
We try to outrun our peers
In this competitive life we live
Without a care for those
Who are going to be hurt in the race
It is in our nature to be competitive
Inherent in us from the beginning of time
In the story of Cain and Abel
Competition rouse our desire to succeed
In whatever feat we take in life
Success lures us, its power grips us
It arouses our passion
At times the smell and taste of success leave us in a state of trance
As we savor the feeling of self fulfillment
The aura of success is like a masterpiece of art
Perfect, most sought after that everybody dreams to have and achieve
So unlike failure whose taste leaves a sour and tangy taste in the mouth like a tar
And a wound to our ego that we have to nurse for a time
Traces of success are followed by many of us
It is a path where everyone of us are heading to, rain or shine
As we canter in the roads of life
As we listen to its beauteous sound like a sweet aria in the silence of the night
Do not rant over failure
Take it as a challenge
Make a strong stance to achieve the success you dream all your life
Take one at a time
little by little in cartful
Till you achieve crates of it
And reap the sweetest success of your life
As we run after success
A way of life we deemed to be the best
We try to outrun our peers
In this competitive life we live
Without a care for those
Who are going to be hurt in the race
It is in our nature to be competitive
Inherent in us from the beginning of time
In the story of Cain and Abel
Competition rouse our desire to succeed
In whatever feat we take in life
Success lures us, its power grips us
It arouses our passion
At times the smell and taste of success leave us in a state of trance
As we savor the feeling of self fulfillment
The aura of success is like a masterpiece of art
Perfect, most sought after that everybody dreams to have and achieve
So unlike failure whose taste leaves a sour and tangy taste in the mouth like a tar
And a wound to our ego that we have to nurse for a time
Traces of success are followed by many of us
It is a path where everyone of us are heading to, rain or shine
As we canter in the roads of life
As we listen to its beauteous sound like a sweet aria in the silence of the night
Do not rant over failure
Take it as a challenge
Make a strong stance to achieve the success you dream all your life
Take one at a time
little by little in cartful
Till you achieve crates of it
And reap the sweetest success of your life
Written by Summerrain75
Go To Page
Sauce and Ants!
Sorrows stir within.
The funeral retains an aura of raucous silence from our inner cries.
It was more of a sauna, a trance of the sound of rain as I held my rose.
The sun can rest above clouds and care not to show herself to a mortal’s rest.
I look up into the falling rain and hope my prayers shall oust the day star.
There was a moment when all of us thought that we had seen a hand arose from a grave!
What could of roust a soul? Rest!
A score of ants then emerged from beneath the tan coffin lid! The mourning crowd can’t retain their stance!
So, the mourners ran! My aunt raved into a wild rant!
The hand of the corpse drove open the lid, hunched over the side of the coffin,
and out spewed a sauce of vomit and ants!
The funeral retains an aura of raucous silence from our inner cries.
It was more of a sauna, a trance of the sound of rain as I held my rose.
The sun can rest above clouds and care not to show herself to a mortal’s rest.
I look up into the falling rain and hope my prayers shall oust the day star.
There was a moment when all of us thought that we had seen a hand arose from a grave!
What could of roust a soul? Rest!
A score of ants then emerged from beneath the tan coffin lid! The mourning crowd can’t retain their stance!
So, the mourners ran! My aunt raved into a wild rant!
The hand of the corpse drove open the lid, hunched over the side of the coffin,
and out spewed a sauce of vomit and ants!
Written by gothicsurrealism
(Daniel Long)
Go To Page
BACH BASHIN
Bach is a chain of snails, man.
hail a shaman cab, man. Bach? His bash, his cash, his hash, man.
in a shaman's lab, him is in a shaman cabal, man.
In a snail's anal canal, man.
sh!! sh!!
Bach's a mail scam, a lich,
as banal as a snail's anal canal.
Ach! Ach! Aaaach... SH!
...
shaman cab?! shaman cab?!
Cash n' hash! cash n' hash!
Sh! Sh, man!!
CASH N' HASH!! CASH N' HASH!!
ah, man...
Bach is snail's clam. A clam's anal canal. A cabal of snail clams.
A clam-snail clash in an anal canal, is Bach.
Bah! Him is a shaman. Him is a main ham! Him is cash 'n' hash in mail! ha! HA!!
Shaman cab! Shaman cab!
Is a scam, man. An' Bach? Him is nails, man. Nails!
Snails!
Nails!
Snails!
Nails!
...
Slabs of ham. mmmmm... ah man... ham slabs, lamb slabs, 'n' clam slabs.
mm-mm-mm...
sh sh sh sh...
hm? is shaman cab?
nah. is Bach's snail anal canal. Ha! HA! Him ails man!
Ach! Ach! Bah! Bach is cash 'n' hash. Him is a bash, man. Him sails, man! [bails in Shaman cab. SLAM!]
hm... Bach is sham, man.
Cash 'n' hash! Cash 'n' hash!
... Cash 'n' hash, man?
Nah, man.
Bah!!
Bach is a chain of snails, man.
hail a shaman cab, man. Bach? His bash, his cash, his hash, man.
in a shaman's lab, him is in a shaman cabal, man.
In a snail's anal canal, man.
sh!! sh!!
Bach's a mail scam, a lich,
as banal as a snail's anal canal.
Ach! Ach! Aaaach... SH!
...
shaman cab?! shaman cab?!
Cash n' hash! cash n' hash!
Sh! Sh, man!!
CASH N' HASH!! CASH N' HASH!!
ah, man...
Bach is snail's clam. A clam's anal canal. A cabal of snail clams.
A clam-snail clash in an anal canal, is Bach.
Bah! Him is a shaman. Him is a main ham! Him is cash 'n' hash in mail! ha! HA!!
Shaman cab! Shaman cab!
Is a scam, man. An' Bach? Him is nails, man. Nails!
Snails!
Nails!
Snails!
Nails!
...
Slabs of ham. mmmmm... ah man... ham slabs, lamb slabs, 'n' clam slabs.
mm-mm-mm...
sh sh sh sh...
hm? is shaman cab?
nah. is Bach's snail anal canal. Ha! HA! Him ails man!
Ach! Ach! Bah! Bach is cash 'n' hash. Him is a bash, man. Him sails, man! [bails in Shaman cab. SLAM!]
hm... Bach is sham, man.
Cash 'n' hash! Cash 'n' hash!
... Cash 'n' hash, man?
Nah, man.
Bah!!
Bach bashin'
Bach is a chain of snails, man.
hail a shaman cab, man. Bach? His bash, his cash, his hash, man.
in a shaman's lab, in a shaman cabal, man.
In a snail's canal, man.
sh!! sh!!
Bach's a mail scam, a lich,
as banal as a snail's anal canal.
Ach! Ach! Aaaach... SH!
...
shaman cab?! shaman cab?!
Cash n' hash! cash n' hash!
Sh! Sh, man!!
CASH N' HASH!! CASH N' HASH!!
ah, man...
Bach is snail clam. A clam's anal canal. A cabal of snail clams.
A clam-snail clash, is Bach.
Bah! Him is a shaman. Him is a main ham! Him is cash in mail, ha!
Shaman cab! Shaman cab!
Is a scam, man. An' Bach? Him is nails, man. Nails!
Snails!
Nails!
Snails!
Nails!
...
Slabs of ham. mmmmm... ah man... ham slabs, lamb slabs, 'n' clam slabs.
mm-mm-mm...
sh sh sh sh...
hm? is shaman cab?
nah. is Bach's snail anal canal. Ha! HA! Him ails man!
Ach! Ach! Bah! Bach is cash 'n' hash. Him is a bash, man
[bails in Shaman cab]
hm... Bach is sham, man.
Cash 'n' hash! Cash 'n' hash!
... Cash 'n' hash?
Nah, man.
Bah!!
hail a shaman cab, man. Bach? His bash, his cash, his hash, man.
in a shaman's lab, in a shaman cabal, man.
In a snail's canal, man.
sh!! sh!!
Bach's a mail scam, a lich,
as banal as a snail's anal canal.
Ach! Ach! Aaaach... SH!
...
shaman cab?! shaman cab?!
Cash n' hash! cash n' hash!
Sh! Sh, man!!
CASH N' HASH!! CASH N' HASH!!
ah, man...
Bach is snail clam. A clam's anal canal. A cabal of snail clams.
A clam-snail clash, is Bach.
Bah! Him is a shaman. Him is a main ham! Him is cash in mail, ha!
Shaman cab! Shaman cab!
Is a scam, man. An' Bach? Him is nails, man. Nails!
Snails!
Nails!
Snails!
Nails!
...
Slabs of ham. mmmmm... ah man... ham slabs, lamb slabs, 'n' clam slabs.
mm-mm-mm...
sh sh sh sh...
hm? is shaman cab?
nah. is Bach's snail anal canal. Ha! HA! Him ails man!
Ach! Ach! Bah! Bach is cash 'n' hash. Him is a bash, man
[bails in Shaman cab]
hm... Bach is sham, man.
Cash 'n' hash! Cash 'n' hash!
... Cash 'n' hash?
Nah, man.
Bah!!
Written by SayQuois
(JeremyK)
Go To Page
BACCHANALIANISM
In the cabana
Mini fridge on the lānai
Decorating cues from Asia
Sipping lambic from a calabash—
Balsamic and basil blinis
A touch too basic, needs more acid
The flashy sin of samba
Hot like chili
Tommy Bahamas and bikinis
(We once spent time
Volunteering in clinics
In Namibia)
She’s been depending on cannabis
Taking acacia to be slim again
Coconut oil balms
Alms for what ails
Better them than mail it in—
Banish the thought!
---
Just enough light to limn:
•Almanacs on the shelf
•A sizable bin she uses for ash
•Aha! The outlines
Of her body—
A hint of labia
A slightly opened clam
And then…
Pursed lips become a chasm
She emerges, sans everything
Her albinism glowing
Freshly shaven, shines like china
Save for a tiny strip
First fur of lambs
(I am brushed by her cilia)
From the floor
She climbs my body
We are mere animals
---
My banana peels itself
Inch by inch
As I take in her cancan legs
“You be long, to me” she stakes her claim
(She has an 8-inch bias)
Slip my salami to a shaman
Sail her canals as a caiman
Limbs flailing
Polishing each other’s shins
Slam into the wall
My nails gripping her honey hams
Nibs on nips
Culo gordo
Mashed on granite slab—
Mach 5!
Cast off chains
Clinch the prize
(To great acclaim)
---
We have lain together
At the Dewdrop Inn
And I am dripping
Slowly down her chin
“Use the basin”
(Slain) I suggest
My voice embarrassingly nasal
She wipes it away
Her hands more mannish than mine
When we met
She was a snail without a shell
And the world was salt
Bastards and their maniac cabals
Meeting in cabins in the woods
The banal sham
Annals of our Simian history
An emotional scab
She hails a taxi cab
Mini fridge on the lānai
Decorating cues from Asia
Sipping lambic from a calabash—
Balsamic and basil blinis
A touch too basic, needs more acid
The flashy sin of samba
Hot like chili
Tommy Bahamas and bikinis
(We once spent time
Volunteering in clinics
In Namibia)
She’s been depending on cannabis
Taking acacia to be slim again
Coconut oil balms
Alms for what ails
Better them than mail it in—
Banish the thought!
---
Just enough light to limn:
•Almanacs on the shelf
•A sizable bin she uses for ash
•Aha! The outlines
Of her body—
A hint of labia
A slightly opened clam
And then…
Pursed lips become a chasm
She emerges, sans everything
Her albinism glowing
Freshly shaven, shines like china
Save for a tiny strip
First fur of lambs
(I am brushed by her cilia)
From the floor
She climbs my body
We are mere animals
---
My banana peels itself
Inch by inch
As I take in her cancan legs
“You be long, to me” she stakes her claim
(She has an 8-inch bias)
Slip my salami to a shaman
Sail her canals as a caiman
Limbs flailing
Polishing each other’s shins
Slam into the wall
My nails gripping her honey hams
Nibs on nips
Culo gordo
Mashed on granite slab—
Mach 5!
Cast off chains
Clinch the prize
(To great acclaim)
---
We have lain together
At the Dewdrop Inn
And I am dripping
Slowly down her chin
“Use the basin”
(Slain) I suggest
My voice embarrassingly nasal
She wipes it away
Her hands more mannish than mine
When we met
She was a snail without a shell
And the world was salt
Bastards and their maniac cabals
Meeting in cabins in the woods
The banal sham
Annals of our Simian history
An emotional scab
She hails a taxi cab
Written by SatInUGal
(Kumar)
Go To Page
I decided to count, and if you include all the small words and a couple repetitions, I'm at 109 words derived from the title word. See here: https://i.imgur.com/EwuzFoI.jpg
yeah, fun for sure. I took the spare, repetitive approach. for whatever reason, Beckett's plays came to mind. Two basically idiotic guys, bickering about nothing, obsessed about nothing, taking shaman cabs to nowhere, yet inexplicably opining on Bach, in really stupid language that I think sort of has the flavour of street slang (but no streets I ever heard of.) I had fun.
Theater
American politics have turned into circus,
Mindless entertainment for the masses,
Better yet perhaps,
It’s a state of decay with the constant threat
That the government one day will be at the brink
Of total collapse.
And the more one side decides to separate,
The more the opposite has to stretch
Becoming extremes,
Mad hatters tear at the fabric of society,
They un-tether they’re grasp on reality
Killing the dream.
It’s an absurd theater, a poisonous ether,
And at the heart a rat that many treat
Like a king,
A cancer released to eat upon the earth
While fools grin bearing rotting teeth
Ignore things.
And there lies the problem, they’re lies,
Demons in disguise in the era of information,
Full of deception,
They lend no ear to no one but themselves
They are the heat of a disease and ignorance
Without perception.
American politics have turned into circus,
Mindless entertainment for the masses,
Better yet perhaps,
It’s a state of decay with the constant threat
That the government one day will be at the brink
Of total collapse.
And the more one side decides to separate,
The more the opposite has to stretch
Becoming extremes,
Mad hatters tear at the fabric of society,
They un-tether they’re grasp on reality
Killing the dream.
It’s an absurd theater, a poisonous ether,
And at the heart a rat that many treat
Like a king,
A cancer released to eat upon the earth
While fools grin bearing rotting teeth
Ignore things.
And there lies the problem, they’re lies,
Demons in disguise in the era of information,
Full of deception,
They lend no ear to no one but themselves
They are the heat of a disease and ignorance
Without perception.
