Poetry competition CLOSED 6th May 2019 2:09am
WINNER
ReggiePoet (Reggie)
ReggiePoet (Reggie)
Through the Alphabet—The Letter “I”
Poetry Contest Description
Use all the words in the list below , in a poem
Next up, the letter "I” ! Same rules as the other alphabet comps:
One poem per poet
Any style, length
Use all the words in the list in your poem
Two weeks to complete
Winner is decided by public vote
Here's your list of words:
Ivory
Ignite
Iris
Intersection
Indian
Illuminate
Ideal
Impenetrable
Itinerant
Italy
One poem per poet
Any style, length
Use all the words in the list in your poem
Two weeks to complete
Winner is decided by public vote
Here's your list of words:
Ivory
Ignite
Iris
Intersection
Indian
Illuminate
Ideal
Impenetrable
Itinerant
Italy
Intense, illuminating, imported “ivory” “ignites” immoral intentions; inducing immoral inhibitions. Involuntary “iris” interactions imply intentional immersion in “intersections” in infidelity; including illegit, ill-informed information.
“Indian” imaginations “illuminate” immaculate “ideals” in introspection. Indisputably “impenetrable” ideas in isolating insecurities. Impeccable information “itinerants” instantly instituted in industrious institutes in “Italy”.
“Indian” imaginations “illuminate” immaculate “ideals” in introspection. Indisputably “impenetrable” ideas in isolating insecurities. Impeccable information “itinerants” instantly instituted in industrious institutes in “Italy”.
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Niki's Four Letters & The Becoming Man
Years' long
futile attempts
did
finally
results produce.
He had, at last
the smallest of rocks climbed
at that enticing intersection
pointing left to the Indian Reservation
and Italy to the right
Fists raised over head
head covered by undisciplined hair
wildly screaming in foreign tongue: "Niki"
And that, surely
could only mean “Victory”
He had become a wild man
gesturing and barking
at different directions and ears
“incite
ignite
infuriated
i
island of
irritation
your left i is mowing down
irresistible illusions
of
iconolatry”
Trees around him
and
silence
eternal and serene
touched him
with
the ivory k of a sweet death
“kneel
knight
of
kinship”
he whispered
“kiss
kismet
of
uncertainty profound.”
He had become a wise man
his audience limited to one,
that girl with the sparkling iris in her eye.
He spoke in balanced
even tones
along the valley he had forgotten.
“Of olive trees
I cannot talk.
Only of huge walls,
impenetrable cement walls
of distance and bitterness.
Illuminate
images
illustrated
in
illicit
ink.
Your right i will my sorrows marry”
Time has his way with men
and his way
with him
was soon to be had
as
he again rose
from the ashes
of
meta-modern psychology
of
befriending snowmen
of
the zombie ideal he was taught
to
stand for.
He had become an angry itinerant
a furious orator without audience
overflowing with passion
every night
he took
his
solitude for a walk.
“Nausea
needle
needle
negate
nominal
Novembers
Nureyev be like
Nora of my dreams
your Ns
silence the voices
and
accelerate my steps.”
futile attempts
did
finally
results produce.
He had, at last
the smallest of rocks climbed
at that enticing intersection
pointing left to the Indian Reservation
and Italy to the right
Fists raised over head
head covered by undisciplined hair
wildly screaming in foreign tongue: "Niki"
And that, surely
could only mean “Victory”
He had become a wild man
gesturing and barking
at different directions and ears
“incite
ignite
infuriated
i
island of
irritation
your left i is mowing down
irresistible illusions
of
iconolatry”
Trees around him
and
silence
eternal and serene
touched him
with
the ivory k of a sweet death
“kneel
knight
of
kinship”
he whispered
“kiss
kismet
of
uncertainty profound.”
He had become a wise man
his audience limited to one,
that girl with the sparkling iris in her eye.
He spoke in balanced
even tones
along the valley he had forgotten.
“Of olive trees
I cannot talk.
Only of huge walls,
impenetrable cement walls
of distance and bitterness.
Illuminate
images
illustrated
in
illicit
ink.
Your right i will my sorrows marry”
Time has his way with men
and his way
with him
was soon to be had
as
he again rose
from the ashes
of
meta-modern psychology
of
befriending snowmen
of
the zombie ideal he was taught
to
stand for.
He had become an angry itinerant
a furious orator without audience
overflowing with passion
every night
he took
his
solitude for a walk.
“Nausea
needle
needle
negate
nominal
Novembers
Nureyev be like
Nora of my dreams
your Ns
silence the voices
and
accelerate my steps.”
Written by takis1917
Go To Page
The "Irony of Passion"
Your sarcastic sadistic sexual slick snarky talk used to Ignite the amorous caressing love
I burned for you
And
During Indian summers,
we spent time researching your heritage in Italy
It was Ideal that you retained information
to share with our offspring
With Ivory skin at birth
When all 4 were born
We found peacful grounds with each other
We shared their first breathes together and basked in the moments
The celebrations of their birthdays would illuminate the room with our love again.
But now,
We have come to the Intersection of love and hate
The Florentine Iris flower represents the blood shed, pain inflicting war We have with each other.
Your words and actions have become Impenetrable to blood vessels and veins in my heart.
My love has been an Itenerant searching for a safe landing
to no avail the runway has a traffic jam
You scorned me beyond healing
I hope I can find solace in the next man
To wrap me up in warmth to mask this cold feeling
Leaving me a Yellow Iris when I get home
In the evening
I burned for you
And
During Indian summers,
we spent time researching your heritage in Italy
It was Ideal that you retained information
to share with our offspring
With Ivory skin at birth
When all 4 were born
We found peacful grounds with each other
We shared their first breathes together and basked in the moments
The celebrations of their birthdays would illuminate the room with our love again.
But now,
We have come to the Intersection of love and hate
The Florentine Iris flower represents the blood shed, pain inflicting war We have with each other.
Your words and actions have become Impenetrable to blood vessels and veins in my heart.
My love has been an Itenerant searching for a safe landing
to no avail the runway has a traffic jam
You scorned me beyond healing
I hope I can find solace in the next man
To wrap me up in warmth to mask this cold feeling
Leaving me a Yellow Iris when I get home
In the evening
Written by Red_CurtainS
(SEVEN-ONE-EIGHT)
Go To Page
Anonymous
pre`apocalyptic Bonnie [ a lament ]
itinerant is the blue Bonnie lily
who gats through the unconscious iris of her lawless eye
gunpowder chokes between the
intersection of her trigger
and her finger an uncomplicated death
will illuminate the ivory sky, and she will add
to the poem of how strangers become
criminals become lovers… nothing paris in an Italy
nothing ideal to ignite a southern indian summer
thought to be impenetrable in nineteen thirty-four before
she found herself flat`lined, gazing out the ford her
bloodstained beauty echoing eternally like a remnant
of a V8 pre-apocalyptic fury yet to be seen
through the crown of a depression that was great… for its time
itinerant is the blue Bonnie lily
who gats through the unconscious iris of her lawless eye
gunpowder chokes between the
intersection of her trigger
and her finger an uncomplicated death
will illuminate the ivory sky, and she will add
to the poem of how strangers become
criminals become lovers… nothing paris in an Italy
nothing ideal to ignite a southern indian summer
thought to be impenetrable in nineteen thirty-four before
she found herself flat`lined, gazing out the ford her
bloodstained beauty echoing eternally like a remnant
of a V8 pre-apocalyptic fury yet to be seen
through the crown of a depression that was great… for its time
I * u take
I eye ivory
Italy teems with knickknack shops
Sweaty swarthy itenerate men with Indian goods
Hawk wares to unsuspecting tourists
My iris ignites as carefully carved wonders gleam with illumunation
I want to wrap up the place,
The smell of falafel competing with catch of the day
The bronzed bodies slick with sweat
The intersection between wharf and cannery row
And take it all home.
But ivory is illegal to buy, much less transport
And my ideal vacation does not have room for a customs arrest.
The impenetrable gaze of the salesman beacons...
Take a chance -it says
You only live once.
Italy teems with knickknack shops
Sweaty swarthy itenerate men with Indian goods
Hawk wares to unsuspecting tourists
My iris ignites as carefully carved wonders gleam with illumunation
I want to wrap up the place,
The smell of falafel competing with catch of the day
The bronzed bodies slick with sweat
The intersection between wharf and cannery row
And take it all home.
But ivory is illegal to buy, much less transport
And my ideal vacation does not have room for a customs arrest.
The impenetrable gaze of the salesman beacons...
Take a chance -it says
You only live once.
Written by Tardegrade
Go To Page
I preserved
Have the fools seen how itinerant your plight
The geaneology of your parents right to blight
Husband and a wife from cultures wide
Italy and Indian the span to bridge and family divide
Your fate an ivory carved wedding dress
Control and to obsess, that arranged marriage
Iris blue and yellow foretell of spring and winters chill
A child so incandesant, abandoned in despairs will
The ideal to ignite and never find your path fulfilled
Tied and bound that intersection of your life unfound
Any light now has been doused
Dreams that iluminate all now are lost
Impenetrable dilemma to tie or loose that knot
I or we
I preserved at any cost
The geaneology of your parents right to blight
Husband and a wife from cultures wide
Italy and Indian the span to bridge and family divide
Your fate an ivory carved wedding dress
Control and to obsess, that arranged marriage
Iris blue and yellow foretell of spring and winters chill
A child so incandesant, abandoned in despairs will
The ideal to ignite and never find your path fulfilled
Tied and bound that intersection of your life unfound
Any light now has been doused
Dreams that iluminate all now are lost
Impenetrable dilemma to tie or loose that knot
I or we
I preserved at any cost
Written by slipalong
Go To Page
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Kill
He started in a town in Italy,
Said his name was ‘Kill’ in another life,
Which was when his family lived in Warsaw;
An ideal life; Father taught piano.
When he could move about in the ghetto,
He became an itinerant tradesman.
‘Kill’, yet a boy when war was to ignite
Years after his mother died, still-birthing,
When he was nine, his brother only two.
But that was then, and this is also then.
Where had he been but scavenging gutters,
A carcass, looking for another way;
Scared a patrol would catch him red-handed
And iris in on the target, too late,
For his father had held the boy and babe
Tight as he swept the three of them away
In the night when the artillary would
Illuminate the smoke from explosions;
The sounds yet to reach the fleeing shadows
Flickering below, their impenetrable
Wails drowned in the delayed booms, echoing.
At the northeast corner of a littered
Intersection, where a once grand
Eight-story building, now a shell, compared,
With blown-out windows of the hotel stood,
And all utilities and water gone,
Where they’d try to rest till morning’s first light.
An Indian woman from Calcutta,
Had set up her fugitive slum home there
And took them in, believing them gypsies.
Gave ‘Kill’, his brother and father, shelter;
Her ivory tower flat still had windows.
She said there was food saved for the morning.
‘Kill’ was hungry. No one had eaten since
The night of the day before yesterday,
And even then it had been something raw.
The night too was hungry and wearied on.
As the others slept, the boy’s eyes glowered
At the door, hearing cracks out in the hall.
They popped just like a roaring fireplace.
He slowly slid backwards under the bed
On which the others laid, spooned together.
‘Kill’ waited, holding his breath forever.
A brief flashing of light lit up the room
To reveal a gaunt German soldier crouched.
The boy in the shadow of the light’s fade
Watched, as the soldier crept to a corner
Where an icebox silently stood, powerless.
‘Kill’ would not endure this final insult,
For an enemy to steal what was left!
He stealthy came out from under the bed.
The soldier was on his knees reaching up
Trying to yank the icebox door open,
The boy was pulling out his pocket knife.
Suddenly, his stomach began to growl.
The soldier looked quick over his shoulder.
‘Kill’ pushed in the blade to open his throat.
And that’s what he did; their food was now safe.
Written by Jade-Pandora
(jade tiger)
Go To Page
iris- the intersection
some say Monalisa
was an intenarant worker
in italy
well, she can keep her itenarant smiles
as here
in my muse
i see the shadow
of the cosmos
reflected in her iris
an intersection
of realms
her inner impenetrable depths
and the world
that her charm
illuminates
her words ignite
set ablaze
red hot passions leaving
the indian summer's kamasutra ideal
a pale ivory in contrast
i don't know what leonardo was thinking
sure as hell he left a masterpiece behind
he once had it and now it's the world's to keep
that treasure
for me
i go back and dive into
that Iris that holds my cosmos
some say Monalisa
was an intenarant worker
in italy
well, she can keep her itenarant smiles
as here
in my muse
i see the shadow
of the cosmos
reflected in her iris
an intersection
of realms
her inner impenetrable depths
and the world
that her charm
illuminates
her words ignite
set ablaze
red hot passions leaving
the indian summer's kamasutra ideal
a pale ivory in contrast
i don't know what leonardo was thinking
sure as hell he left a masterpiece behind
he once had it and now it's the world's to keep
that treasure
for me
i go back and dive into
that Iris that holds my cosmos
