Poetry competition CLOSED 8th December 2020 5:57pm
WINNER
LunaGreyhawk
LunaGreyhawk
RUNNERS-UP:
wallyroo92
and eswaller
She Walks in Beauty
Anonymous
Poetry Contest Description
The Classic Corner : Lord Byron tribute
Co-Hosts - Ahavati & JohnnyBlaze
Part XXXVIII in an ongoing series introducing serious writers of DUP to the most well-known poets, both classical and modern.
Lord Byron ( born George Gordon Byron, 22 January 1788 – 19 April 1824 ) was a leading figure of the Romantic movement and is regarded as one of the greatest British poets. Among his best-known works are the lengthy narrative poems Don Juan and Childe Harold's Pilgrimage.
He travelled extensively across Europe, especially in Italy, where he lived for seven years in the cities of Venice, Ravenna, and Pisa. During his stay in Italy he frequently visited his friend and fellow poet Percy Bysshe Shelley ( husband of Mary Shelley, the author of Frankenstein ).
Later in his abbreviated life, Byron joined the Greek War of Independence fighting the Ottoman Empire. He died in 1824 at the age of 36 from a fever contracted after the First and Second Siege of Missolonghi.
Byron first experienced inexplicable intense feelings at age eight for his distant cousin, Mary Duff. Within the next few years, he had received sexual advances from and had sexual encounters with adults of both genders.
There is an entire section in Wikipedia under his name dedicated to "Relationships and scandals". Needless to say, he was a passionate young man involved in numerous affairs with both sexes, some even regarded as incestuous. Though his life, similar to his attention span, was short - it was a soap opera that produced some of the world's most highly regarded love poetry.
For more about Lord Byron, visit
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/lord-byron
Guidelines
- Write a new Poem honoring Byron inspired by only one of his poems.
- While you are allowed a maximum of 2 entries, only the best of your entries is considered viable for the trophy.
- Do your best to make us feel as though we are reading poetry by Byron. The more we feel you "capturing his essence" in "your own words" , the higher you will score. Scoring will also involve choice of wording, delivery, subject material, formatting, target audience - a wide range of factors.
What is the "essence" we are looking for? It will be a combination of the poet's personality, emotional investment, and message delivered in the inspiration poem you chose.
The Rules
1. Two entries per DUP persona allowed. Keep this thread clean of everything but entries until after the awards announcement is made. Comment on entries directly to the member's page if you feel moved to. Post any questions or concerns about the comp in the Classic Corner Discussion thread @
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/10855/
2. No extreme erotica*; this is open to all ages and can't be viewed with an ECW ( Extreme Content Warning ). * Extreme Erotica would be considered visual imagery which would depict any type of sexual activity as well as the direct naming of body parts, i.e. - nipples, pussy, cock, et al.
3. No exact word limit; however, attempt to keep it no more than 250 - 300.
4. Any form is acceptable ( but studying the poet is advised ). While we accept Spoken Word and Visual Poems, please include a text version in your submissions.
5. You MUST tag your entries with the theme #LordByron. If the theme is currently not available, be sure to add it before the competition expires.
6. In your poem's Author Notes box, provide the title of and a direct link to the one poem by Byron that inspired yours. Failure to not include this information will automatically disqualify your entry. Without such, we have no way of determining if you were truly inspired by Byron or simply swapped fresh words into his existing poetry ( which is a form of plagiarism ). This is a requirement regardless if you include a copy of the inspiration poem along with your entry or borrow its title.
7. You may edit your entry up until the moment the competition closes and is locked for judging. In fact, we highly encourage you take a few minutes to review your entry to ensure that it is error free in terms of spelling, grammar, and punctuation, and adheres to these guidelines.
Comp will be judged by Ahavati & JohnnyBlaze. As in the past and in the event there is a tie, we will call in third ( and possibly fourth ) judge.
You have one month; best of luck to all entrants!
The Destruction of the Sea-People
A mighty kingdom o’er mountains north
Tales of its treasure spread widely forth
Yet coveting bounty from the land below
Mysterious riches for those in the know
A humble village nestled next to the sea
Ruled by none but their own humility
Possessing a prize world-over renown’d
Honored in secret where secrets abound
Begrudging the people their loyalty
The Ruler consumed by his royalty
Nefarious planning far into each night
Blinded by greed ever-eager to fight
Peaceful villagers fell swiftly as expected
Slaughter’d innocence mercy neglected
Assumption assured a reward most grand!
Pompous parade across bloodied land
Soldiers searched Death’s ghosted halls
Finding war’s profit behind crumbled walls
Expecting to uncover vast precious gold
Payment for greedy souls they’d just sold
Discov’ring instead a plain wooden box
Containing a single scroll and no locks
Retrieving it gingerly from its silk bed
“Love One Another” was all that it said
Tales of its treasure spread widely forth
Yet coveting bounty from the land below
Mysterious riches for those in the know
A humble village nestled next to the sea
Ruled by none but their own humility
Possessing a prize world-over renown’d
Honored in secret where secrets abound
Begrudging the people their loyalty
The Ruler consumed by his royalty
Nefarious planning far into each night
Blinded by greed ever-eager to fight
Peaceful villagers fell swiftly as expected
Slaughter’d innocence mercy neglected
Assumption assured a reward most grand!
Pompous parade across bloodied land
Soldiers searched Death’s ghosted halls
Finding war’s profit behind crumbled walls
Expecting to uncover vast precious gold
Payment for greedy souls they’d just sold
Discov’ring instead a plain wooden box
Containing a single scroll and no locks
Retrieving it gingerly from its silk bed
“Love One Another” was all that it said
Written by LunaGreyhawk
Go To Page
Anonymous
Related submission no longer exists.
A Man of Simple Dreams
( After Lord Byron )
To wake of morning, half-light crowning—
spitting flash through arthritic trees;
a spindly flame, waxing stronger
exposing ivory skin of frosted field.
An aroma, roasted kernel twists
as cats, entwined amid feet;
timorous stems of shadow retreat
across leaf-strewn concrete.
To hear the yodel of migrating loon
depart winter-tide for passion
disrupts me not, despite their omen;
armed guards of snow, capturing
the garden, sparing no green survivor
save evergreens, their boughs adorned—
pearls before swine; Venus Fly-
trapped, awaiting inevitable thaw. . .
aftertastes of solitude, escaping
ivory towers o're time's terra firma—
until such, I shall in patience remain
a man of simple dreams.
~
For J-with love
To wake of morning, half-light crowning—
spitting flash through arthritic trees;
a spindly flame, waxing stronger
exposing ivory skin of frosted field.
An aroma, roasted kernel twists
as cats, entwined amid feet;
timorous stems of shadow retreat
across leaf-strewn concrete.
To hear the yodel of migrating loon
depart winter-tide for passion
disrupts me not, despite their omen;
armed guards of snow, capturing
the garden, sparing no green survivor
save evergreens, their boughs adorned—
pearls before swine; Venus Fly-
trapped, awaiting inevitable thaw. . .
aftertastes of solitude, escaping
ivory towers o're time's terra firma—
until such, I shall in patience remain
a man of simple dreams.
~
For J-with love
Written by Ahavati
(Tams)
Go To Page
Breath Of Beauty
being attractive
is as natural as breath
for she is beauty
is as natural as breath
for she is beauty
Written by AspergerPoet56
Go To Page
The bridge soon to be crossed
As near the lake, I cast a stone
and stand and watch it bounce
duck's and drakes, squawk in overtones
skimming, its short flight pronounced
settled, leave the self so all alone
short term, that came all unannounced
as life, will have its ups and downs
each ripple ebbing, slowly drown.
In mourning, standing on the bridge
hear the water trickle past
be with it, its dark seeing images
who threw the die? that you were cast
stolen time, that we were pledged
my soul flies, sombre, at half mast
fair maiden, taken so, and carried off
in death so cold, as snow so soft.
So waxed and whitened, loving paled away
carved angels weep, so insincere
stand I, beside a clod so freshly laid
the roses broken stem, rising sap so disappeared,
recall all joy, before decay
each vernal day, the never year
wilting early, as the headstones tilt
the ground below my feet, it feels no guilt.
As youth's champagne, bubbles rising in the glass
empty, the tall flute of my lament
lying now in circumstances caveat
empty dregs, my life of that ferment
rising as a ghosts in ethereal contact
clay hold the emptiness, and not repent
our joy would ever multiply
now empathy, it's mask, my eventide.
Shadows of our spirit's so divorced
holding grief, a vacuous diamond ring
death dealt a final intercourse
the heat of love and its being
as the hearse, drawn by the horse
the dead march, echo's hovering
till we meet again, in a last kiss
the heart, in truth, never could dismiss.
and stand and watch it bounce
duck's and drakes, squawk in overtones
skimming, its short flight pronounced
settled, leave the self so all alone
short term, that came all unannounced
as life, will have its ups and downs
each ripple ebbing, slowly drown.
In mourning, standing on the bridge
hear the water trickle past
be with it, its dark seeing images
who threw the die? that you were cast
stolen time, that we were pledged
my soul flies, sombre, at half mast
fair maiden, taken so, and carried off
in death so cold, as snow so soft.
So waxed and whitened, loving paled away
carved angels weep, so insincere
stand I, beside a clod so freshly laid
the roses broken stem, rising sap so disappeared,
recall all joy, before decay
each vernal day, the never year
wilting early, as the headstones tilt
the ground below my feet, it feels no guilt.
As youth's champagne, bubbles rising in the glass
empty, the tall flute of my lament
lying now in circumstances caveat
empty dregs, my life of that ferment
rising as a ghosts in ethereal contact
clay hold the emptiness, and not repent
our joy would ever multiply
now empathy, it's mask, my eventide.
Shadows of our spirit's so divorced
holding grief, a vacuous diamond ring
death dealt a final intercourse
the heat of love and its being
as the hearse, drawn by the horse
the dead march, echo's hovering
till we meet again, in a last kiss
the heart, in truth, never could dismiss.
Written by slipalong
Go To Page
Related submission no longer exists.
I See Her in Dreams
I see her in dreams every night,
With heavenly angelic eyes
Covered in beauty and delight
Like the most glorious sunrise,
And I bask in this solemn rite
That only a dream can comprise.
Captivated by a bright smile,
I cannot help but fall in love,
For the splendor lasts a while
As if it’s been sent from above,
Her appearance is so tactile
It’s surely what dreams are made of.
I long to sleep just for the chance
To behold this sheer fantasy
In her attraction there’s a trance
More profound than an endless sea,
For in her eyes there’s a romance
That in dreams only I can see.
Written by wallyroo92
Go To Page
Anonymous
Attention, CCComp Peeps!
We are extending the deadline of this comp 1 week by request due to Holiday obligations cutting into writing time -and- because we need a minimum of 8 entries in order to generate a theme page.
Thank you and good luck in the judging!
< Ahavati & JohnnyBlaze
We are extending the deadline of this comp 1 week by request due to Holiday obligations cutting into writing time -and- because we need a minimum of 8 entries in order to generate a theme page.
Thank you and good luck in the judging!
< Ahavati & JohnnyBlaze 
To Romance (Visions Of Love)
Romantic rays, of these were lit
my early days as joy saw fit.
I reveled in your warm cascades;
receded into wanton ways.
Yet visions bore no guarantee,
were at best of elusivity;
my intentions so did melt
under glare of scrutiny dealt
And I did cast you out, away --
my bosom shielded of decay.
The suit of armour molded, cast
would not then yield to your repast.
The hungry heart devoured itself
within its shrine upon a shelf
and where have gone Thee, lost above
at each attempt to capture love.
Divine, intangible: Whose allure
is only a nutriment to those unsure
wavering in their sleepy dreams,
your regale never quite as it seems.
But I yet know your inner taunt --
Romantic Love so given to want
every soul to call its own
except to the free, no truth be shown!
.....
my early days as joy saw fit.
I reveled in your warm cascades;
receded into wanton ways.
Yet visions bore no guarantee,
were at best of elusivity;
my intentions so did melt
under glare of scrutiny dealt
And I did cast you out, away --
my bosom shielded of decay.
The suit of armour molded, cast
would not then yield to your repast.
The hungry heart devoured itself
within its shrine upon a shelf
and where have gone Thee, lost above
at each attempt to capture love.
Divine, intangible: Whose allure
is only a nutriment to those unsure
wavering in their sleepy dreams,
your regale never quite as it seems.
But I yet know your inner taunt --
Romantic Love so given to want
every soul to call its own
except to the free, no truth be shown!
.....
Written by PoetsRevenge
Go To Page
Don’t say it, do not haunt me
Follow a pence, a pole or garden path,
a shimmering lane soaked in a moonlit bath.
You own the starry stream, the current and the staff
They steady my waltz and the thrum of my laugh
But I am no mirror afore you
so do not haunt me please just send this note
with ash or fuse drawn from the churches pew
to be sewn within the linings of my sister’s coat
Drag me under, someone,
below nude celluloid, in all blemish,
before some fresh thought becomes meaningful once more.
It was all laden, ‘fore you spoke, before you stood,
the coma laced in moment, a pause statuesque.
We teach and spit out as fast as we can brood
on these drafts of things so messy on the desk
Slouches and saws; glimpses and draws
our blindspots that would not grow back again.
Your hazel and innocent eye returns them to the night,
with our forefingers and thumbs forming a frame.
Shout out your witch's franc; that silver studded tooth
spit-cemented into the greenhouse glass
with thought that this throne was big enough for two
two murmurs that slip into the fog among the grass.
The higher I scale my mortgage on you,
the lower the tide, the harder to drown
and closer is the horizon to hug the shoreline
the easier to hook my crooked lip to the ground.
a shimmering lane soaked in a moonlit bath.
You own the starry stream, the current and the staff
They steady my waltz and the thrum of my laugh
But I am no mirror afore you
so do not haunt me please just send this note
with ash or fuse drawn from the churches pew
to be sewn within the linings of my sister’s coat
Drag me under, someone,
below nude celluloid, in all blemish,
before some fresh thought becomes meaningful once more.
It was all laden, ‘fore you spoke, before you stood,
the coma laced in moment, a pause statuesque.
We teach and spit out as fast as we can brood
on these drafts of things so messy on the desk
Slouches and saws; glimpses and draws
our blindspots that would not grow back again.
Your hazel and innocent eye returns them to the night,
with our forefingers and thumbs forming a frame.
Shout out your witch's franc; that silver studded tooth
spit-cemented into the greenhouse glass
with thought that this throne was big enough for two
two murmurs that slip into the fog among the grass.
The higher I scale my mortgage on you,
the lower the tide, the harder to drown
and closer is the horizon to hug the shoreline
the easier to hook my crooked lip to the ground.
Written by nomoth
Go To Page
She Is True Beauty
I see her standing there like a true vision.
How I wish I could meet her right at the
Water’s edge so captivated by her beauty
And true perfection. In some other world
She would be mine, but in this world she
Is fawned over by many others like some
Boyhood or girlhood fantasy. When she
Laughs like a musical melody others stop
To listen. With her smile she can light up
A dark room and with her eyes she can set
Fires. She walks in beauty like the silence
In the wind chimes, but no one knows her
True beauty on the inside and the strength
In her bones like the women who all came
Before her. No one knows the struggles she
Faces to be like the girls on the front of the
Magazine covers. She does not know that I
Am standing right here to catch her if she
Ever falls. She offers love and kindness.
She is like an angel who walks in beauty.
How I wish I could meet her right at the
Water’s edge so captivated by her beauty
And true perfection. In some other world
She would be mine, but in this world she
Is fawned over by many others like some
Boyhood or girlhood fantasy. When she
Laughs like a musical melody others stop
To listen. With her smile she can light up
A dark room and with her eyes she can set
Fires. She walks in beauty like the silence
In the wind chimes, but no one knows her
True beauty on the inside and the strength
In her bones like the women who all came
Before her. No one knows the struggles she
Faces to be like the girls on the front of the
Magazine covers. She does not know that I
Am standing right here to catch her if she
Ever falls. She offers love and kindness.
She is like an angel who walks in beauty.
Written by eswaller
Go To Page
Anonymous
Our apologies to any CCComp Peeps who were hoping for more time to get entries in. A one week extension was all that we were allowed.
Your continued patience is much appreciated as we finish analyzing the entries and picking the winners! Byron would be thrilled at all this poetry inspired by his!
Your continued patience is much appreciated as we finish analyzing the entries and picking the winners! Byron would be thrilled at all this poetry inspired by his!
JohnnyBlaze said:Our apologies to any CCComp Peeps who were hoping for more time to get entries in. A one week extension was all that we were allowed.
Your continued patience is much appreciated as we finish analyzing the entries and picking the winners! Byron would be thrilled at all this poetry inspired by his!
LMAO!
Your continued patience is much appreciated as we finish analyzing the entries and picking the winners! Byron would be thrilled at all this poetry inspired by his!
LMAO!
