Poetry competition CLOSED 10th September 2019 3:22pm
WINNER
LunaGreyhawk
LunaGreyhawk
RUNNER-UP:
midevil
Through The Alphabet--The Letter "R"
Poetry Contest Description
Use all the words in the list below, in a poem
Next up, the letter "R” ! 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
*New* : will be putting up 2 comps at a time, to finish out the alphabet series.
Here’s the list of words:
Ransack
Rattan
Rebel
Redemption
Rhapsody
Ripen
Rivulet
Rosary
Rucksack
Rye
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
*New* : will be putting up 2 comps at a time, to finish out the alphabet series.
Here’s the list of words:
Ransack
Rattan
Rebel
Redemption
Rhapsody
Ripen
Rivulet
Rosary
Rucksack
Rye
Related submission no longer exists.
Of Every Kind
When I was young I’d flitter through the sky,
And ransack all the stars of magic dust.
I’d walk lightheartedly ‘cross fields of rye,
Within my rucksack filled with wanderlust.
I was so young, the rebel in me rose,
To holler with a shout that shook the world.
I gazed straight up to God, “I want to know,”
And then the magic started to unfurl.
All thru’ the days & nights, my quicken’d step,
The rhapsody of knowledge filled my mind.
Thru’ jungle, swamp & forest rivulet,
Of bamboo, rattan, growth of every kind.
At last I felt redemption came to me,
The branches overhead were full of fruit.
They heavy hung like ripen rosary;
So hungry and so grateful, I fell mute.
Written by Jade-Pandora
(jade tiger)
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Quick
With my rattan cane
I struck the rebel
who dared to ransack my home.
Fatal was the wound
as a rivulet of blood
hid not the break of bone.
In his rucksack I found
jerky of beef
ripen fruit and a loaf of rye.
Clenching my rosary
reciting a rhapsody of redemption
twas I that did not die.
Written by midevil
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Related submission no longer exists.
Risen Reject
In the church where prayers are left to ripen
Forgivness is the count of rosary
And penance a rivulet of guilt
Confessed upon one knee
Can faith now lift that rucksack
The baggage of your sin
The choir with a rhapsody
Conducted lifes amens
Corn and rye of congregation
Stand on broken stems
Try to hold the rattan strength
The seat of your beliefs
A weave of good and bad decisions
That's so hard to achieve
Branded to be christian
To live and so to die
For the devils tempting treat
Its coals that blackened lie
Fester the bishops carnal whims
The innocent that cry
Redemption a well trodden path of sin
Rebel and cheat the ever seeing eye
The weak the Cain that whisper meek
A ransack foisted on ones life
For that altar seek not I
Forgivness is the count of rosary
And penance a rivulet of guilt
Confessed upon one knee
Can faith now lift that rucksack
The baggage of your sin
The choir with a rhapsody
Conducted lifes amens
Corn and rye of congregation
Stand on broken stems
Try to hold the rattan strength
The seat of your beliefs
A weave of good and bad decisions
That's so hard to achieve
Branded to be christian
To live and so to die
For the devils tempting treat
Its coals that blackened lie
Fester the bishops carnal whims
The innocent that cry
Redemption a well trodden path of sin
Rebel and cheat the ever seeing eye
The weak the Cain that whisper meek
A ransack foisted on ones life
For that altar seek not I
Written by slipalong
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Through the Eyes of a Friend
Look at me through the eyes of a friend, she said,
A stream of thoughts embraced me in a sad rhapsody,
But I, drunk on whiskey and rye cried a rivulet instead,
Running through my mind like an unforgettable melody.
I took her old rosary, the one she kept in an old box,
Before anyone else would ransack her possessions,
I prayed a prayer of redemption but before I could talk,
She said, never look back or hold on to obsessions.
But I placed the beads and hymn book in my rucksack,
My young rebel soul would never see her eyes again,
And as the years passed in a ripen memory I think back,
How she sat in that rattan chair and the letters she penned,
I remember my mentor but I still dearly miss my friend.
A stream of thoughts embraced me in a sad rhapsody,
But I, drunk on whiskey and rye cried a rivulet instead,
Running through my mind like an unforgettable melody.
I took her old rosary, the one she kept in an old box,
Before anyone else would ransack her possessions,
I prayed a prayer of redemption but before I could talk,
She said, never look back or hold on to obsessions.
But I placed the beads and hymn book in my rucksack,
My young rebel soul would never see her eyes again,
And as the years passed in a ripen memory I think back,
How she sat in that rattan chair and the letters she penned,
I remember my mentor but I still dearly miss my friend.
Written by wallyroo92
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Anonymous
Related submission no longer exists.
Related submission no longer exists.
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