Poetry competition CLOSED 13th April 2021 8:14am
WINNER
Eerie
Eerie
RUNNERS-UP:
buddydog
and Josh
Villanelle Hell
Poetry Contest Description
Write a villanelle
http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/villanelle.html
Rules:
One entry per poet or poetess
Do not enter a poem with a previous win
Any subject
Two weeks
No collaborations
This will be an open vote competition.
Have fun!
Rules:
One entry per poet or poetess
Do not enter a poem with a previous win
Any subject
Two weeks
No collaborations
This will be an open vote competition.
Have fun!
Daydreams
I had a dream, you were there
We met in a familiar place
As the sound of seagulls filled the air
The wind gently blowing your hair
We walked along the shore without a trace
I had a dream, you were there
We reminisce of the secrets we share
Holding each other like leather and lace
As the sound of seagulls filled the air
I was captivated with this affair
Hanging on to memories without disgrace
I had a dream, you were there
I was awakened in despair
I searched for the light in your face
As the sound of seagulls filled the air
Dazed and confused, no one to care
You faded away with an Angels grace
I had a dream, you were there
As the sound of seagulls filled the air
We met in a familiar place
As the sound of seagulls filled the air
The wind gently blowing your hair
We walked along the shore without a trace
I had a dream, you were there
We reminisce of the secrets we share
Holding each other like leather and lace
As the sound of seagulls filled the air
I was captivated with this affair
Hanging on to memories without disgrace
I had a dream, you were there
I was awakened in despair
I searched for the light in your face
As the sound of seagulls filled the air
Dazed and confused, no one to care
You faded away with an Angels grace
I had a dream, you were there
As the sound of seagulls filled the air
Written by buddydog
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Anonymous
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Anonymous
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Anonymous
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Campfire
It starts at dusk with quiet simple strum.
‘It’s campfire time!’ the gleeful kids exclaim.
Lost souls align with rhythm of the drum.
Melodious solo bids the campers come -
marshmallow sticks are shared as well as names;
It starts at dusk with quiet simple strum.
They might come happy, or they might feel glum:
with eyes obscured by flickering of flames,
lost souls align with rhythm of the drum.
The more reserved in sotto voce hum,
while others unleash harmonies untamed.
It starts at dusk with quiet simple strum.
Who knows just what this evening might become?
Confessions flow as laughter eases shame;
lost souls align with rhythm of the drum.
In darkness, ballads mingle with the rum,
and drinking songs set merry hearts aflame.
It starts at dusk with quiet simple strum;
Lost souls align with rhythm of the drum.
Written by brokentitanium
(k.)
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Related submission no longer exists.
DO NOT BE GENTLE IN THE PASSION RACE
Do not be gentle in the Passion race
Where all the demons wear the angel's vest
For the end is always an evil mess
Hath thou ever been in an evil chase,
As thou walked away from the devil's nest?
Do not be gentle in the Passion race
Should her tongue be just like gelatinase
May you not get lost in her cunning jest
For the end is always an evil mess
Like father of lies, her lie is a mace
Who's sole aim is to destroy all your rest
Do not be gentle in the Passion race
If there exist a chance to take a race
Do not cling to the hope of what is best
For the end is always an evil mess
Even tho one comes with an angel's face
And just like a righteous saint one is dressed,
Do not be gentle in the Passion race
For the end is always an evil mess
Where all the demons wear the angel's vest
For the end is always an evil mess
Hath thou ever been in an evil chase,
As thou walked away from the devil's nest?
Do not be gentle in the Passion race
Should her tongue be just like gelatinase
May you not get lost in her cunning jest
For the end is always an evil mess
Like father of lies, her lie is a mace
Who's sole aim is to destroy all your rest
Do not be gentle in the Passion race
If there exist a chance to take a race
Do not cling to the hope of what is best
For the end is always an evil mess
Even tho one comes with an angel's face
And just like a righteous saint one is dressed,
Do not be gentle in the Passion race
For the end is always an evil mess
Written by Gentle
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Ribbed Music of Bone ( Villanelle )
Centuries manifesting Sound
Charting trajectories in blood
'twixt ribbed music of bone
Through generations thereof
themed variations of chord
Centuries manifesting Sound
Resonate vibrations of note
intervals reverberating thirds
'twixt ribbed music of bone
Defining the rise of scale
double bass through treble clef
Centuries manifesting Sound
Melodic intervals in tone
Adagios restful and slow
'twixt ribbed music of bone
Vessels creating their song
tintinnabulate as One;
Centuries of manifesting Sound
'twixt ribbed music of bone
~
Charting trajectories in blood
'twixt ribbed music of bone
Through generations thereof
themed variations of chord
Centuries manifesting Sound
Resonate vibrations of note
intervals reverberating thirds
'twixt ribbed music of bone
Defining the rise of scale
double bass through treble clef
Centuries manifesting Sound
Melodic intervals in tone
Adagios restful and slow
'twixt ribbed music of bone
Vessels creating their song
tintinnabulate as One;
Centuries of manifesting Sound
'twixt ribbed music of bone
~
Written by Ahavati
(Tams)
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WHAT EINSTEIN SAID
We’re still not sure what Einstein said
despite he’s quoted quite a lot
and we can’t ask him since he’s dead
he never gave a talk on TED,
his you-tube clips are doctored rot
so how to know what Einstein said?
and what went on inside his head
is relative — (or was it not?)
… we can’t ask him since he’s dead
iconic hair with lots of cred
a mystic too, so what’s the plot?
we’re still not sure what Einstein said
his “E is M.C squared” has led
to atom bombs and God knows what …
but we can’t ask him since he’s dead
the kosher truth has upped and fled
his legacy has gone to pot —
don’t ask me what Einstein said
I never met the man — he’s dead!
Born blessed
I was born Black
Dark tone,
Extra melanin
And an afro
I was born blessed
Born with nothing
Enslaved, taken taken for granted
But like a Pheonix I rose from ash
I was born Black
Personified art,
Poetry and style
Wrote history from scraps
In this concrete world I rose between cracks
I was born Black
Crafted miracles from empty hands
Made a home from a shack
Made Vogue from rags
Leant to cohabit with rats
I was born Black
Adversity means opportunity,
Segregation meant unity
Black is beauty
I was born Black,
I was born blessed
Dark tone,
Extra melanin
And an afro
I was born blessed
Born with nothing
Enslaved, taken taken for granted
But like a Pheonix I rose from ash
I was born Black
Personified art,
Poetry and style
Wrote history from scraps
In this concrete world I rose between cracks
I was born Black
Crafted miracles from empty hands
Made a home from a shack
Made Vogue from rags
Leant to cohabit with rats
I was born Black
Adversity means opportunity,
Segregation meant unity
Black is beauty
I was born Black,
I was born blessed
Written by poetOftragedy
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Related submission no longer exists.
Leanings (villanelle)
Yours was the heart on which I leant
the arbour calm, you were my spring
we two, each other, would ever compliment
Our beings torments never rent
in harmony like melodies that cling
yours was the heart on which I leant
In passions arms, lies our intent
the ecstasy of love, be the ever suffering
come strings of lute play my lament
The summer sun it came and went
burned sweet affection, as my whim
yours was the heart on which I leant
Dusk's kiss of autumns long moments
the fall, tied garments from each limb
with bodies wrapped, to lie content
As unity will ever be, romances sweet present
we were balanced, like perfection pinned
yours was the heart on which I leant
with bodies wrapped, to lie content
the arbour calm, you were my spring
we two, each other, would ever compliment
Our beings torments never rent
in harmony like melodies that cling
yours was the heart on which I leant
In passions arms, lies our intent
the ecstasy of love, be the ever suffering
come strings of lute play my lament
The summer sun it came and went
burned sweet affection, as my whim
yours was the heart on which I leant
Dusk's kiss of autumns long moments
the fall, tied garments from each limb
with bodies wrapped, to lie content
As unity will ever be, romances sweet present
we were balanced, like perfection pinned
yours was the heart on which I leant
with bodies wrapped, to lie content
Written by slipalong
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