Poetry competition CLOSED 22nd July 2020 3:19pm
WINNER
Strangeways_Rob
Strangeways_Rob
POEM OF THE MONTH ~ JULY 2020
Poetry Contest Description
Nominate an Amazing Poem to Represent DU across social media!
It's time for our "Poem of the Month" to be featured in the DUP 'Poem of the Month Hall of Fame' and on the official Facebook page.
You have THREE weeks to nominate no more than THREE of your favorite poems from another DUP poet!
Please note the following when making nominations:
NOTE: The Spoken Word of the Month comp is here:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/competitions/read/11384/
Because the vote for this com is anonymous, and spoken word pieces cannot be anonymous due to avatars and voices, we would prefer you nominate those pieces in the appropriate comp above so that voting remains fair.
NOTE: New Member ( six ( 6 ) months of less ) of the Month comp is here: https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/competitions/read/11478/
1. Self nominations are not accepted. The great majority of the competitions here are about spotlighting one's own work on a particular topic or theme. This is a chance to nominate that poem that you wish you had written but some other great talent here beat you to it.
2. You may nominate only THREE poems from THREE different DU members.
3. No DUPLICATES. If someone nominates the same poem the entry will be deleted. If you like it that much wait and vote for it!
4. Any genre except erotica or pornography. This is a Facebook feature and we must adhere to their guidelines.
5. Any member who is banned or disables their account PRIOR to the win will be automatically disqualified.
6. One win per member within a Calendar Year.
7. You must personally notify the member that they have been nominated.
Nomination Duration is three weeks followed by a week of site voting!
Current Poem of the Month Hall of Famers:
2020
January 2020- NEW BEGINNINGS
February 2020 - EDIBLE WORDS
March 2020 - MADAME LAVENDER
APRIL 2020 - MONKEYMAN
MAY 2020 - TIMAGINATION543
JUNE 2020 -
JULY 2020 - Strangeways_Rob
2019
January, 2019 - DANIELCHRISTENSEN
February, 2019 - SOPHIE_ERICSON
March, 2019 - AUDIOHARLEEA
April, 2019 - FROM THE ASH
May, 2019 - MISS_SUB
June, 2019 - NAAJIR
July, 2019 - LAYLA
August, 2019 - AHAVATI
September, 2019 - MISS_SUB
October, 2019 - HOWLING_WHELMS
November, 2019 - JOHNNY BLAZE
December 2019- RACHEL_LAUREN
2018
January, 2018 - LADY_OF_THE_QUILL
February, 2018 - LEPPEROCHAN Craic in a Box
March, 2018 - TINABUBUYA (Tee Mali)
April, 2018 - CROWFLY
May, 2018 - ATOMIKBOMB
June, 2018 - MISS_SUB (Missy)
July, 2018 - MEADOWSWEET
August, 2018 - LAYLA
September, 2018 - COLD FUSION
October, 2018 - TODSKI28
November, 2018 - TheMUSE22
December, 2018 - BENDER
2017
January, 2017 - VEE
February, 2017 - CRIMSIN
March, 2017 - ONEFIFTYSIX
April, 2017 - DANIEL CHRISTENSEN
May, 2017 - ALEXANDER CASE
June, 2017 - AEMelia564
July, 2017 - THE_SILLY_SIBYL (Jack Thomas Heslop)
August, 2017 - QUIETUSQUILL
September, 2017 - _SHADOE_
October, 2017 - POETSREVENGE
November, 2017 - NAAJIR
December, 2017 - POETSPEAK
2016
November, 2016 - JOHN FEDDELER
December, 2016 - AHAVATI
You have THREE weeks to nominate no more than THREE of your favorite poems from another DUP poet!
Please note the following when making nominations:
NOTE: The Spoken Word of the Month comp is here:
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/competitions/read/11384/
Because the vote for this com is anonymous, and spoken word pieces cannot be anonymous due to avatars and voices, we would prefer you nominate those pieces in the appropriate comp above so that voting remains fair.
NOTE: New Member ( six ( 6 ) months of less ) of the Month comp is here: https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/competitions/read/11478/
1. Self nominations are not accepted. The great majority of the competitions here are about spotlighting one's own work on a particular topic or theme. This is a chance to nominate that poem that you wish you had written but some other great talent here beat you to it.
2. You may nominate only THREE poems from THREE different DU members.
3. No DUPLICATES. If someone nominates the same poem the entry will be deleted. If you like it that much wait and vote for it!
4. Any genre except erotica or pornography. This is a Facebook feature and we must adhere to their guidelines.
5. Any member who is banned or disables their account PRIOR to the win will be automatically disqualified.
6. One win per member within a Calendar Year.
7. You must personally notify the member that they have been nominated.
Nomination Duration is three weeks followed by a week of site voting!
Current Poem of the Month Hall of Famers:
2020
January 2020- NEW BEGINNINGS
February 2020 - EDIBLE WORDS
March 2020 - MADAME LAVENDER
APRIL 2020 - MONKEYMAN
MAY 2020 - TIMAGINATION543
JUNE 2020 -
JULY 2020 - Strangeways_Rob
2019
January, 2019 - DANIELCHRISTENSEN
February, 2019 - SOPHIE_ERICSON
March, 2019 - AUDIOHARLEEA
April, 2019 - FROM THE ASH
May, 2019 - MISS_SUB
June, 2019 - NAAJIR
July, 2019 - LAYLA
August, 2019 - AHAVATI
September, 2019 - MISS_SUB
October, 2019 - HOWLING_WHELMS
November, 2019 - JOHNNY BLAZE
December 2019- RACHEL_LAUREN
2018
January, 2018 - LADY_OF_THE_QUILL
February, 2018 - LEPPEROCHAN Craic in a Box
March, 2018 - TINABUBUYA (Tee Mali)
April, 2018 - CROWFLY
May, 2018 - ATOMIKBOMB
June, 2018 - MISS_SUB (Missy)
July, 2018 - MEADOWSWEET
August, 2018 - LAYLA
September, 2018 - COLD FUSION
October, 2018 - TODSKI28
November, 2018 - TheMUSE22
December, 2018 - BENDER
2017
January, 2017 - VEE
February, 2017 - CRIMSIN
March, 2017 - ONEFIFTYSIX
April, 2017 - DANIEL CHRISTENSEN
May, 2017 - ALEXANDER CASE
June, 2017 - AEMelia564
July, 2017 - THE_SILLY_SIBYL (Jack Thomas Heslop)
August, 2017 - QUIETUSQUILL
September, 2017 - _SHADOE_
October, 2017 - POETSREVENGE
November, 2017 - NAAJIR
December, 2017 - POETSPEAK
2016
November, 2016 - JOHN FEDDELER
December, 2016 - AHAVATI
I realize the rules above are long and not everyone takes the time to read thoroughly, therefore I will point a section of the rules pertaining to SPOKEN WORD poems/VIDEOS.
ANY POEM THAT FEATURES A VIDEO CANNOT BE SUBMITTED IN THIS COMP.
The video automatically gets featured rather than the poem itself and this particular comp is not designed to conceal the author during the voting process, hence; we have a comp for that specifically.
Hosted by Josh : Spoken Word Of The Month (link will be updated soon)
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/competitions/read/11442/
If you receive a message from me with an explanation and the invitation to remove the video or replace it with a poem.
PLEASE KINDLY DO SO.
Otherwise, a mod will swiftly make it disappear with a stroke of a key.
Thank you.
ANY POEM THAT FEATURES A VIDEO CANNOT BE SUBMITTED IN THIS COMP.
The video automatically gets featured rather than the poem itself and this particular comp is not designed to conceal the author during the voting process, hence; we have a comp for that specifically.
Hosted by Josh : Spoken Word Of The Month (link will be updated soon)
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/competitions/read/11442/
If you receive a message from me with an explanation and the invitation to remove the video or replace it with a poem.
PLEASE KINDLY DO SO.
Otherwise, a mod will swiftly make it disappear with a stroke of a key.
Thank you.
Cerveau
The brain plays games
not sudoku but close.
Everything in its place.
Thoughts, fears, thoughts, fears,
add them up and they just become
a way of life.
Do you hear voices?
I've always assumed every human
had an inner dialogue, a conscience.
I figure animals do too.
Imagine nothing, just a blank page in
your head. I can't, and hope
you can't either.
The body exhausts before the mind
so in an everlasting town that looks
similar to bismuth from far away.
I watch, like a God, with no control
over anything. The people here
made themselves, I just pop in and
out of their lives observing them,
stealing their emotions and stories
for my own purposes later.
Insanity or creativity?
Hand in hand they go.
The frontal cortex lights up with
excitement and yeah, that's it.
not sudoku but close.
Everything in its place.
Thoughts, fears, thoughts, fears,
add them up and they just become
a way of life.
Do you hear voices?
I've always assumed every human
had an inner dialogue, a conscience.
I figure animals do too.
Imagine nothing, just a blank page in
your head. I can't, and hope
you can't either.
The body exhausts before the mind
so in an everlasting town that looks
similar to bismuth from far away.
I watch, like a God, with no control
over anything. The people here
made themselves, I just pop in and
out of their lives observing them,
stealing their emotions and stories
for my own purposes later.
Insanity or creativity?
Hand in hand they go.
The frontal cortex lights up with
excitement and yeah, that's it.
Written by nikkimoe
Go To Page
birdlife
Birdlife matters: God sees the tiny sparrow where it falls.
Black lives matter: God hears the bruised, the broken, when he calls.—cab
nor shall you hear my song,
you infidel,
though all my days prolong
you in this hell.
no descant shall be formed
upon my tongue
though all my sense were charmed
and from me flung.
this caged bird does not sing
to entertain
the likes of prince or king
or chamberlain;
may silence me consume
till I am dead,
before, in this dark room,
your ears are fed.
what though before me loom
a lofty man,
your temporary bloom
is sleight of hand!
this tiny bird shall watch
a giant fall,
when soon my feathered thatch
the skies enthralls.
© Copyright 2020 June 29
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
Black lives matter: God hears the bruised, the broken, when he calls.—cab
nor shall you hear my song,
you infidel,
though all my days prolong
you in this hell.
no descant shall be formed
upon my tongue
though all my sense were charmed
and from me flung.
this caged bird does not sing
to entertain
the likes of prince or king
or chamberlain;
may silence me consume
till I am dead,
before, in this dark room,
your ears are fed.
what though before me loom
a lofty man,
your temporary bloom
is sleight of hand!
this tiny bird shall watch
a giant fall,
when soon my feathered thatch
the skies enthralls.
© Copyright 2020 June 29
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
Written by cabcool
Go To Page
a poem-type-thing for a poet ~
dear charkhol'd dichotomy ov half-light {&} midday ~
your words were blood {&} ash in my mouth; a sinister swell
ov larvae writ(h)ing
[decadent metaphors]
coagulat'd in runes amid the leaves steeping in cut glass
monkshood merlot
savor'd on fork'd tongue, sips ov bruise
s
w
i
r
l
'd
a copper coin maelstrom against scarr'd discern [hearse/nak'd filament
hipster bold
asylum invitation]
tannin tenets, the (un)holy scripture ov pagan communion
wafer-thin curs(iv)'d verse
sit
stand
a p a d
p l u
genu(ine)(in)flect(ion)
from her, the void
//
your words were blood {&} ash in my mouth; a sinister swell
ov larvae writ(h)ing
[decadent metaphors]
coagulat'd in runes amid the leaves steeping in cut glass
monkshood merlot
savor'd on fork'd tongue, sips ov bruise
s
w
i
r
l
'd
a copper coin maelstrom against scarr'd discern [hearse/nak'd filament
hipster bold
asylum invitation]
tannin tenets, the (un)holy scripture ov pagan communion
wafer-thin curs(iv)'d verse
sit
stand
a p a d
p l u
genu(ine)(in)flect(ion)
from her, the void
//
Written by _shadoe_
(yiyi)
Go To Page
![~This ['Cuckooing'] Anonymity](/images/uploads/poemimages_webp/390110.webp?1594625251)
Considering Snowdrops
Snowdrop
Now is the globe shrunk tight
Round the mouse’s dulled wintering heart.
Weasel and crow, as if moulded in brass,
Move through an outer darkness
Not in their right minds,
With the other deaths. She, too, pursues her ends,
Brutal as the stars of this month,
Her pale head heavy as metal.
Ted Hughes—
I understand the space in the brass
Airless no contempt, or ability to hold it
Tightly, round spring coiled around nothing
The Yo yo ing purpose of mice, mouse
Pursuits of the steel wool cut, itchy
Red abrasions cover heaving chest, loose
In the leg, furthering no where special
Connecting the four corners of the Earth
Ill conceived screams, curling under sharp toothy, to punch holes in the can
Scurry the string through, running the telephone line
Hello’s dreams, fears
Echos of clay and thud
The moisture in the ground is mud
The moisture in the ground is mud
The pooling reflects no light
And gathers the snow drops
With the remorse of it
She will surely die there
If only a smiling face to make an impression
Now is the globe shrunk tight
Round the mouse’s dulled wintering heart.
Weasel and crow, as if moulded in brass,
Move through an outer darkness
Not in their right minds,
With the other deaths. She, too, pursues her ends,
Brutal as the stars of this month,
Her pale head heavy as metal.
Ted Hughes—
I understand the space in the brass
Airless no contempt, or ability to hold it
Tightly, round spring coiled around nothing
The Yo yo ing purpose of mice, mouse
Pursuits of the steel wool cut, itchy
Red abrasions cover heaving chest, loose
In the leg, furthering no where special
Connecting the four corners of the Earth
Ill conceived screams, curling under sharp toothy, to punch holes in the can
Scurry the string through, running the telephone line
Hello’s dreams, fears
Echos of clay and thud
The moisture in the ground is mud
The moisture in the ground is mud
The pooling reflects no light
And gathers the snow drops
With the remorse of it
She will surely die there
If only a smiling face to make an impression
Written by Calamityofgin
Go To Page
Related submission no longer exists.
broken tree >> on river bend
Upon my bough,
June breeze pins me to the scene.
Brow of my beloved
Astride an amethyst trunk,
Arched towards rainfall
Tears the bow of harboured ships.
Old fisherman shares a nod -
Awkward reverence of existence -
Objectifying space between us.
The comfort of strangers.
Riverbed reflects a painting:
Into which we step,
People of oiled canvas, as
Burnt matches unframed.
Sunset sulphurs
Strike tomorrow chime.
Looking down into drowned
Weeds, savagely whirling,
On verge of uprooting.
Carcass of sunken yacht
Lies compassed on borders,
No map dares to bear
Locations of survival.
The Llangernyw Yew* knows my name, but
Shied away from sharing her moonlight.
Walking in footsteps of lonely walkers
En route to a vodka trail, pallid lips seeking.
Turned back to see nothing but mist:
Further into the fog I had fallen.
Old fisherman ignored my waves
Be thought of yesterday ripples,
Consumer of all the threads he has worn
His ruddy face wears a pugilist plinth.
Forget-me-nots border the path
Some beheaded some crushed,
Their stalks stand in stealth.
There is a force on the
Other side of the river:
Beyond oceans cities continents
It pulls me in magnetic majesty.
Cliché bruised me to sing Moon River-
It was the shortest walk home.
*Oldest surviving tree in Europe. Conwy, North Wales. Visited seeking solace 5 years ago.
June breeze pins me to the scene.
Brow of my beloved
Astride an amethyst trunk,
Arched towards rainfall
Tears the bow of harboured ships.
Old fisherman shares a nod -
Awkward reverence of existence -
Objectifying space between us.
The comfort of strangers.
Riverbed reflects a painting:
Into which we step,
People of oiled canvas, as
Burnt matches unframed.
Sunset sulphurs
Strike tomorrow chime.
Looking down into drowned
Weeds, savagely whirling,
On verge of uprooting.
Carcass of sunken yacht
Lies compassed on borders,
No map dares to bear
Locations of survival.
The Llangernyw Yew* knows my name, but
Shied away from sharing her moonlight.
Walking in footsteps of lonely walkers
En route to a vodka trail, pallid lips seeking.
Turned back to see nothing but mist:
Further into the fog I had fallen.
Old fisherman ignored my waves
Be thought of yesterday ripples,
Consumer of all the threads he has worn
His ruddy face wears a pugilist plinth.
Forget-me-nots border the path
Some beheaded some crushed,
Their stalks stand in stealth.
There is a force on the
Other side of the river:
Beyond oceans cities continents
It pulls me in magnetic majesty.
Cliché bruised me to sing Moon River-
It was the shortest walk home.
*Oldest surviving tree in Europe. Conwy, North Wales. Visited seeking solace 5 years ago.
Written by Strangeways_Rob
Go To Page
Related submission no longer exists.
