Poetry competition CLOSED 30th January 2020 8:50pm
WINNER
EdibleWords
EdibleWords
RUNNERS-UP:
Ahavati
and Kinkpoet
ROAST, the RUTHLESS
Easy Bake Mistake (Roasted)
'For Ruth Less'
Gas oven, 103.
I think I can make toast this way.
They never wanted me to, those doubters,
so I bought extra bread.
It was on sale like 'his' stuff
dropped off at Goodwill
when I emptied the car,
smoking insanity.
I have no muffler anymore
and the shop is closed.
It's right next to the fridge.
Bring on the last meal, no wait,
there's leftovers aplenty
since he's gone.
Toasted 'his' cinnamon stick
on my hearth, that was last week,
now I'm alone.
I can finally hog the TV and the shower;
no more hairy bits in the sink.
Unfortunately, he left 'her' underwear
in the sock drawer, Oh-ld Spice!
Some cloves stuck in an orange
will do nicely.
Light a candle, it lasts longer,
must be a Yankee.
Heck, if it burns bright enough
I might toast a marshmallow.
How did I get here?
Time and impatience
and 'him' over easy in a slow oven.
It was half-baked in a lightbulb moment;
everything else was D.O.A.
Ask Betty Crocker or Fanny Farmer.
I'm getting too close to the flame.
What's that acrid smell?
I'm one big creosote log;
it must be my hair burning.
Aqua-Net is extremely flammable;
it was 'him' that coated me in it.
.....
Gas oven, 103.
I think I can make toast this way.
They never wanted me to, those doubters,
so I bought extra bread.
It was on sale like 'his' stuff
dropped off at Goodwill
when I emptied the car,
smoking insanity.
I have no muffler anymore
and the shop is closed.
It's right next to the fridge.
Bring on the last meal, no wait,
there's leftovers aplenty
since he's gone.
Toasted 'his' cinnamon stick
on my hearth, that was last week,
now I'm alone.
I can finally hog the TV and the shower;
no more hairy bits in the sink.
Unfortunately, he left 'her' underwear
in the sock drawer, Oh-ld Spice!
Some cloves stuck in an orange
will do nicely.
Light a candle, it lasts longer,
must be a Yankee.
Heck, if it burns bright enough
I might toast a marshmallow.
How did I get here?
Time and impatience
and 'him' over easy in a slow oven.
It was half-baked in a lightbulb moment;
everything else was D.O.A.
Ask Betty Crocker or Fanny Farmer.
I'm getting too close to the flame.
What's that acrid smell?
I'm one big creosote log;
it must be my hair burning.
Aqua-Net is extremely flammable;
it was 'him' that coated me in it.
.....
Written by PoetsRevenge
Go To Page
clewluss said:Amazing one and all,
Jade many apologies for
Misreading your PM
I am pleasantly surprised that nobody
HAs followed orders
Nobody has roasted anyone!
So much Love ❤️
If nobody has roasted anyone, it could be because they want to up their own odds of winning, not someone elses? Or do critiques help the person critiquing win?
Jade many apologies for
Misreading your PM
I am pleasantly surprised that nobody
HAs followed orders
Nobody has roasted anyone!
So much Love ❤️
If nobody has roasted anyone, it could be because they want to up their own odds of winning, not someone elses? Or do critiques help the person critiquing win?
Jade-Pandora said:Halloooo. SMOOKY...
Don’t forget you made a parallel universe over at the twin tower...
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/competitions/read/11207/
We got action!🐾😸✍🏼
I got hungry...
For TIGER!!
She Has a Pan
She simply said ‘I have a pan’,
‘Twas purrchased hot, did she say?
It’s early and I just began;
there's a muse we must sauté.
Sure she doesn't have a cock,
she simply said ‘I have a pan’.
juicy for my chopping block;
to feed a crowd my plan.
I'll guarantee it’s better than
My competition’s food intent.
She simply said ‘I have a pan’,
...not saying who's roast she meant.
Hot to trot, she has a spell!
She can roast without a plan!
A magic potion? who can tell,
She simply said ‘I have a pan’.
Don’t forget you made a parallel universe over at the twin tower...
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/competitions/read/11207/
We got action!🐾😸✍🏼
I got hungry...
For TIGER!!
She Has a Pan
She simply said ‘I have a pan’,
‘Twas purrchased hot, did she say?
It’s early and I just began;
there's a muse we must sauté.
Sure she doesn't have a cock,
she simply said ‘I have a pan’.
juicy for my chopping block;
to feed a crowd my plan.
I'll guarantee it’s better than
My competition’s food intent.
She simply said ‘I have a pan’,
...not saying who's roast she meant.
Hot to trot, she has a spell!
She can roast without a plan!
A magic potion? who can tell,
She simply said ‘I have a pan’.
Nothing IS that Serious (Parody for Ahavati)
“All the great sadnesses, great temptations,
and great mistakes are almost always
the result of loneliness.”
-- José Saramago, Margaret Jull Costa
Elder ends we will all have,
becoming not such graves,
our differences in aging
united by the same fun glory
neglect of weed or worse,
triangle turf and immense
necrotizing urges and desires
formerly swathing residents
in spent sea foam
observe from quiet retirement
needing no protective encasings
anymore...
Beyond, our mounds
will spread and hang
Jiggly giant limbs
caressing bulbous beauty,
tapping that like
trapped hangers
the behind
closeted doorknobs
finally couch casting
macabre shadows chasing them
across plastic flowers
and fake indoor dirt.
Visitors see do not disturb signs
and memories once decimated
are revived in time before all that
juiciness becomes remains
even old hovels can be
made of chiseled stone.
History becomes an illusion
of mistresses (like that one dog)
there -- just below an aching stench,
sniffing out with such diligence
you would swear it was seeking
the birth certificate of
God's golden year
love child
until it cocks its leg
and pisses
...on the carpet instead.
~
and great mistakes are almost always
the result of loneliness.”
-- José Saramago, Margaret Jull Costa
Elder ends we will all have,
becoming not such graves,
our differences in aging
united by the same fun glory
neglect of weed or worse,
triangle turf and immense
necrotizing urges and desires
formerly swathing residents
in spent sea foam
observe from quiet retirement
needing no protective encasings
anymore...
Beyond, our mounds
will spread and hang
Jiggly giant limbs
caressing bulbous beauty,
tapping that like
trapped hangers
the behind
closeted doorknobs
finally couch casting
macabre shadows chasing them
across plastic flowers
and fake indoor dirt.
Visitors see do not disturb signs
and memories once decimated
are revived in time before all that
juiciness becomes remains
even old hovels can be
made of chiseled stone.
History becomes an illusion
of mistresses (like that one dog)
there -- just below an aching stench,
sniffing out with such diligence
you would swear it was seeking
the birth certificate of
God's golden year
love child
until it cocks its leg
and pisses
...on the carpet instead.
~
Written by EdibleWords
Go To Page
"It and I"
This thing
It feeds like it's never full
Consumes with teeth so keen, it tears everyone I bring apart into a bloody pool
Ordering for more and more before I can find more to lure
Watching with it's red eyes and horns
Sitting still, it still breaths debris from the last body it leaves on the floor
I promptly force myself to provide this predator with people, so it don't pick me to be the next main course
Fixing to find a way to finish this fucking blood sucking sucker so I can evade
That's why for it's last meal, I hit a mausoleum and wait
Day turns to darkness then I dig
Now it's time to feast
I go and drop an old diseased dead body at it's feet
It eats, slow not use to the rotten meat
It shrieks, in pain from the corpse I yanked out of the grave
Spewed the spoiled carcass it chewed
Tremoring in convulsions not knowing what to do
I'm no longer worried of residing in the belly of the beast as it's food
It feeds like it's never full
Consumes with teeth so keen, it tears everyone I bring apart into a bloody pool
Ordering for more and more before I can find more to lure
Watching with it's red eyes and horns
Sitting still, it still breaths debris from the last body it leaves on the floor
I promptly force myself to provide this predator with people, so it don't pick me to be the next main course
Fixing to find a way to finish this fucking blood sucking sucker so I can evade
That's why for it's last meal, I hit a mausoleum and wait
Day turns to darkness then I dig
Now it's time to feast
I go and drop an old diseased dead body at it's feet
It eats, slow not use to the rotten meat
It shrieks, in pain from the corpse I yanked out of the grave
Spewed the spoiled carcass it chewed
Tremoring in convulsions not knowing what to do
I'm no longer worried of residing in the belly of the beast as it's food
Written by StruggleFreePotery
(StruggleFreePoetry)
Go To Page
I am conscious of the Scribe
I have become conscious, lately, that Awesome Others
Seemingly are conscious of my consciousness.
And most of the time I had taken for granted this
Consciousness of consciousness to what consciousness,
My consciousness actually is.
Privately and Publicly, a few of this,
All scriveners, Bards and writers alike
Told me, tell me I am more than amanuensis –
I am that Special Gifted individual
…..who writes.
Have I truly moved from being the scribe
Who jots downs shit for the monk
In a cave in the mountains of Tibet?
When?
When did this transformation take place!
Goddamnit! The love I FEEL
Is making my face wet again.
No longer the artistic assistant,
I am.
I am the monk who scribes in a cave
In the mountains of Tibet.
I am.
I am also the Scribe.
Written by Tallen (earth_empath)
I have bad news brother
this is monk shit smeared on trailer park wall
and the only transformation occurring
is when that shit dries and falls off
big love and mystique RazzerRoast
I have become conscious, lately, that Awesome Others
Seemingly are conscious of my consciousness.
And most of the time I had taken for granted this
Consciousness of consciousness to what consciousness,
My consciousness actually is.
Privately and Publicly, a few of this,
All scriveners, Bards and writers alike
Told me, tell me I am more than amanuensis –
I am that Special Gifted individual
…..who writes.
Have I truly moved from being the scribe
Who jots downs shit for the monk
In a cave in the mountains of Tibet?
When?
When did this transformation take place!
Goddamnit! The love I FEEL
Is making my face wet again.
No longer the artistic assistant,
I am.
I am the monk who scribes in a cave
In the mountains of Tibet.
I am.
I am also the Scribe.
Written by Tallen (earth_empath)
I have bad news brother
this is monk shit smeared on trailer park wall
and the only transformation occurring
is when that shit dries and falls off
big love and mystique RazzerRoast
"It and I"
This thing
It feeds like it's never full
Consumes with teeth so keen, it tears everyone I bring apart into a bloody pool
Ordering for more and more before I can find more to lure
Watching with it's red eyes and horns
Sitting still, it still breaths debris from the last body it leaves on the floor
I promptly force myself to provide this predator with people, so it don't pick me to be the next main course
Fixing to find a way to finish this fucking blood sucking sucker so I can evade
That's why for it's last meal, I hit a mausoleum and wait
Day turns to darkness then I dig
Now it's time to feast
I go and drop an old diseased dead body at it's feet
It eats, slow not use to the rotten meat
It shrieks, in pain from the corpse I yanked out of the grave
Spewed the spoiled carcass it chewed
Tremoring in convulsions not knowing what to do
I'm no longer worried of residing in the belly of the beast as it's food
Written by StruggleFreePotery (StruggleFreePoetry
Dude I think you need a couple More more's in L5 just to lure us in a bit more
and I love that last stanza Micheal Jackson thriller right ?
ZombieDeadFlesh Peeling lip Kisses RazzerRoast
This thing
It feeds like it's never full
Consumes with teeth so keen, it tears everyone I bring apart into a bloody pool
Ordering for more and more before I can find more to lure
Watching with it's red eyes and horns
Sitting still, it still breaths debris from the last body it leaves on the floor
I promptly force myself to provide this predator with people, so it don't pick me to be the next main course
Fixing to find a way to finish this fucking blood sucking sucker so I can evade
That's why for it's last meal, I hit a mausoleum and wait
Day turns to darkness then I dig
Now it's time to feast
I go and drop an old diseased dead body at it's feet
It eats, slow not use to the rotten meat
It shrieks, in pain from the corpse I yanked out of the grave
Spewed the spoiled carcass it chewed
Tremoring in convulsions not knowing what to do
I'm no longer worried of residing in the belly of the beast as it's food
Written by StruggleFreePotery (StruggleFreePoetry
Dude I think you need a couple More more's in L5 just to lure us in a bit more
and I love that last stanza Micheal Jackson thriller right ?
ZombieDeadFlesh Peeling lip Kisses RazzerRoast
gentle jack
Listen close dear children
Gather near
I'll tell you a tall one
If you lend me an ear
Tall mountain jack
As big as they come
Arms that can lift you
Onto his back
Legs that can kick mountain goats
Out of the way
Gentle with children
Helps grannies cross the street
Count yourself lucky to
Have jack in your sight
Because with jack
Everything is all right
No bad drugs in your body
No cravings in your head
No worries over rent
a relationship gone dead
Jack brings you
A fine bowl of stew
After playing in the snow
His roaring hearth fire
Warms our cold toe
Jack gives us his glowing glow
Soon jack will bid us farewell
Leaving us to face inner turmoil
And life's grime alone
But he leaves us warm enough
That we won't turn to cold stone
Written by clewluss (SMOOKY)
Hey the best thing to do with this poem is to
drop it in Jacks stew.
Then leave it on the cooker for sixteen hour
until its burnt, and i mean burnt so no one has to read it again
really burnt.
loves and snuggle bugs RazzerRoast
Listen close dear children
Gather near
I'll tell you a tall one
If you lend me an ear
Tall mountain jack
As big as they come
Arms that can lift you
Onto his back
Legs that can kick mountain goats
Out of the way
Gentle with children
Helps grannies cross the street
Count yourself lucky to
Have jack in your sight
Because with jack
Everything is all right
No bad drugs in your body
No cravings in your head
No worries over rent
a relationship gone dead
Jack brings you
A fine bowl of stew
After playing in the snow
His roaring hearth fire
Warms our cold toe
Jack gives us his glowing glow
Soon jack will bid us farewell
Leaving us to face inner turmoil
And life's grime alone
But he leaves us warm enough
That we won't turn to cold stone
Written by clewluss (SMOOKY)
Hey the best thing to do with this poem is to
drop it in Jacks stew.
Then leave it on the cooker for sixteen hour
until its burnt, and i mean burnt so no one has to read it again
really burnt.
loves and snuggle bugs RazzerRoast
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Damn I dropped my crit then came back to post and the comp had closed, ah well for what its worth is here
Vinnie the vegan Vampire
could be seen in Tesco’s at night,
sucking the blood out of oranges,
campaigning for animal rights.
He slept in the freezer section
when day light got too much to bear,
used frozen peas as his pillow,
Vinnie's days were comfy there,
Until Pete from poultry and meats
went to fast with a wobbly cart,
the freezer was open and in the commotion,
a steak went through Vinnie’s heart.
Vinnie the vegan Vampire
could be seen in Tesco’s at night,
sucking the blood out of oranges,
campaigning for animal rights.
He slept in the freezer section
when day light got too much to bear,
used frozen peas as his pillow,
Vinnie's days were comfy there,
Until Pete from poultry and meats
went to fast with a wobbly cart,
the freezer was open and in the commotion,
a steak went through Vinnie’s heart.
Anonymous
Congrats, EW! You certainly have a knack for roasting.
Great job Kinkpoet!
And Ahavati too! XO ( though I'm use to being roasted by her - always complaining she's cold and cranking up the thermostat in the office when we are working on NaPo or Classic Comp stuff )
Great job Kinkpoet!
And Ahavati too! XO ( though I'm use to being roasted by her - always complaining she's cold and cranking up the thermostat in the office when we are working on NaPo or Classic Comp stuff )
