Poetry competition CLOSED 24th June 2022 7:32am
WINNER
Strangeways_Rob
Strangeways_Rob
RUNNERS-UP:
Razzerleaf
and NANCY_RDZ_STORIES
LISTEN , Water brings a message
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
August Rain
Begging for sleep, his eyes roll again,
pain keeps them from slumber.
She washes cups in the kitchen,
what else can she do?
He did ask for something,
when his voice could be heard,
a prayer for August rain.
Heat brings a bad day for being caged this way
but she recalls the whispered last request
and meets me on the lawn.
Me, a simple hosepipe,
my snake belly, needing to be filled
so water can become my tongue.
holding my head in her hand,
she looks to his bedroom
and turns the tap.
My inside fills to burst,
and answers his prayer,
pounding on windows
belting down gutters
rhythm of first drops
rain dance on roof tops.
I carry the drums of droplets,
his tranquility comes tapping on tiles,
coolness calms his condition
smiling at the August rain.
Finally sleep swings open his cell door;
We hang our heads in the garden,
clothes and hair soaked,
she lets me fall to the grass,
I feel empty, spent, I can only watch,
as the rain maker mixes tears in the mud.
pain keeps them from slumber.
She washes cups in the kitchen,
what else can she do?
He did ask for something,
when his voice could be heard,
a prayer for August rain.
Heat brings a bad day for being caged this way
but she recalls the whispered last request
and meets me on the lawn.
Me, a simple hosepipe,
my snake belly, needing to be filled
so water can become my tongue.
holding my head in her hand,
she looks to his bedroom
and turns the tap.
My inside fills to burst,
and answers his prayer,
pounding on windows
belting down gutters
rhythm of first drops
rain dance on roof tops.
I carry the drums of droplets,
his tranquility comes tapping on tiles,
coolness calms his condition
smiling at the August rain.
Finally sleep swings open his cell door;
We hang our heads in the garden,
clothes and hair soaked,
she lets me fall to the grass,
I feel empty, spent, I can only watch,
as the rain maker mixes tears in the mud.
Written by Razzerleaf
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Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Rivers and Flame
- Rivers and Flame -
Across sandy shores and crystalline seas,
I see the ripples and countless reflections.
Within those I behold all the facets of me,
And I understand all spiritual connections.
The waters lap upon the shore so gentle…
Like the caresses of a lover long forgotten.
In that moment I feel strangely sentimental,
And I think of all that love hath begotten…
From dawn to dusk, beginnings unto ends!
The sea is eternal, and all that I am is too.
I know the source that, all gnosis, sends…
As mine eyes art anointed, in visions true.
How many rivers flow from those waters?
A river for every heart, flowing so strong!
Rivers for my many sons and daughters…
That we may bask beneath a perfect sun!
Unto some Elysian vastness, so heavenly,
The music of the rivers continues forever.
To chart them, is to understand destiny…
Which is bound in ways none may sever.
Not with chains, but with silken ribbons,
That we may wear, as adornments fine…
In beauty may be bound all that is living.
Bound heart to heart and thence to time!
Not all time leads only to death and loss,
Sometimes to glory we art worthily sent.
We canst win it for ourselves, for a cost,
Each soul’s price is its’ own to be spent.
I have paid mine, and arose to so dwell,
In greater blessedness than I had known.
A flaming eagle rising from fires of Hell…
Brilliant as the sun when first it so shone!
My light is reflected in the waters sweet,
And like unto that is how we do ascend.
Beyond sandy shores to paradise meet,
For such power is ours to so command.
Across sandy shores and crystalline seas,
I see the ripples and countless reflections.
Within those I behold all the facets of me,
And I understand all spiritual connections.
The waters lap upon the shore so gentle…
Like the caresses of a lover long forgotten.
In that moment I feel strangely sentimental,
And I think of all that love hath begotten…
From dawn to dusk, beginnings unto ends!
The sea is eternal, and all that I am is too.
I know the source that, all gnosis, sends…
As mine eyes art anointed, in visions true.
How many rivers flow from those waters?
A river for every heart, flowing so strong!
Rivers for my many sons and daughters…
That we may bask beneath a perfect sun!
Unto some Elysian vastness, so heavenly,
The music of the rivers continues forever.
To chart them, is to understand destiny…
Which is bound in ways none may sever.
Not with chains, but with silken ribbons,
That we may wear, as adornments fine…
In beauty may be bound all that is living.
Bound heart to heart and thence to time!
Not all time leads only to death and loss,
Sometimes to glory we art worthily sent.
We canst win it for ourselves, for a cost,
Each soul’s price is its’ own to be spent.
I have paid mine, and arose to so dwell,
In greater blessedness than I had known.
A flaming eagle rising from fires of Hell…
Brilliant as the sun when first it so shone!
My light is reflected in the waters sweet,
And like unto that is how we do ascend.
Beyond sandy shores to paradise meet,
For such power is ours to so command.
Written by Kou_Indigo
(Karam L. Parveen-Ashton)
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Anonymous
<< post removed >>
ice and fire
Do You hear the groan, the cracking ice shelf
its painful latitude
a journey in cold and hostile territory
moving patiently under mantels of snow
blood spilled by artic fox and polar bear
consequence, the stain that we gave so little care
burned bridges see each Eden flood
consumed because we lacked the love
it only took a few degrees
the grind of just two centuries
our heads so buried in the sand
while ignoring natures own demands
the washers worn out on the tap
the flood will come
what once was dry, will soon see water lap
Our hedonistic tendencies , swamp the land
the beauty of new brackish lakes
reflections of our own mistakes
tomorrows coastline none had planned
the oceans rise, its fathoms span
its whispers, storms to navigate
its painful latitude
a journey in cold and hostile territory
moving patiently under mantels of snow
blood spilled by artic fox and polar bear
consequence, the stain that we gave so little care
burned bridges see each Eden flood
consumed because we lacked the love
it only took a few degrees
the grind of just two centuries
our heads so buried in the sand
while ignoring natures own demands
the washers worn out on the tap
the flood will come
what once was dry, will soon see water lap
Our hedonistic tendencies , swamp the land
the beauty of new brackish lakes
reflections of our own mistakes
tomorrows coastline none had planned
the oceans rise, its fathoms span
its whispers, storms to navigate
Written by slipalong
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Rivers in a Teaspoon
“No man ever steps in the same river twice.” Heraclitus
From the amniotic porridge:
Through teeth, claws and oceans
To be creatures of phallus and womb.
Factory smog smoulders against morning mist.
I dream we watch the sunrise over the Canal,
Rib-cage of bicycles, bottles and bones
Breath against the chest of this ordinary town.
Sleep-talk to a stranger who weeps at God’s silence.
After umbrella days,
The River Clwyd thrum-beats her surge
As ribbons fired from a revolver.
On the shore between two piers
Or a small neck of sea,
We hold whole our own lives, like unspilt water,
Catching silvered memories in the smallest net.
Set the animals free, Noah has lost his bearings.
We’ll sleep water in dusk cradles
Waking to what the physics of the evening
Has done to the light on sea,
For no one but us.
This is where they drown witches,
Sink liners, purify lost souls,
Baptise in fonts of humanity.
It will be the rain which decides our fate.
From the amniotic porridge:
Through teeth, claws and oceans
To be creatures of phallus and womb.
Factory smog smoulders against morning mist.
I dream we watch the sunrise over the Canal,
Rib-cage of bicycles, bottles and bones
Breath against the chest of this ordinary town.
Sleep-talk to a stranger who weeps at God’s silence.
After umbrella days,
The River Clwyd thrum-beats her surge
As ribbons fired from a revolver.
On the shore between two piers
Or a small neck of sea,
We hold whole our own lives, like unspilt water,
Catching silvered memories in the smallest net.
Set the animals free, Noah has lost his bearings.
We’ll sleep water in dusk cradles
Waking to what the physics of the evening
Has done to the light on sea,
For no one but us.
This is where they drown witches,
Sink liners, purify lost souls,
Baptise in fonts of humanity.
It will be the rain which decides our fate.
Written by Strangeways_Rob
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Anonymous
<< post removed >>
In the Waters
Oh, yes! Listen, new blood, and you will weep...
At the legend of the things that below you creep.
Look on the dark waters, oh how they are glistening!
But if you look deeper, there is something just beneath,
Watching, waiting, hoping for you to get a bit closer!
Oh so peaceful, just to look at the ripples for a while.
Wait until the waters turn, wait until the waters churn,
Then you will see what I have witnessed, only to see no more.
I will still be waiting, watching for you from the far shore!
In the waters, in the waters,
Beware the green daughters!
The rains fall, the streams rise,
The dark ones whisper truth and lies.
From the rocks and the sand, from the dark listening!
They are rising up, crowned with seaweed for a wreath,
Around drowned heads, which look up from down lower!
Digging their way up from the beach, their hearts vile.
Go with them and you will know what it is to in cold burn,
The mother of the murk, who is an ancient one's wild whore.
Speak her name, speak her name, a name you should abhor!
Beneath the waves, beneath the waves,
More come with the fading of the day!
The storms rage, the arrogant sage,
Should have foreseen this feral age!
Upon the island, upon the mainland, carrion feeders flock!
They sense the horrors of those who lie in graves no longer,
Come with me, let me show you the way into the labyrinth!
I know the paths, I have the key to the gate of desolation.
From the elders it was given, but no name did they grant it,
When they watched from the dark, whispering their secrets.
Before the rising of the damned from their own torments!
In the dark clouds, in the dark clouds,
The winged things come in foul crowds!
We know the riddle, death plays the fiddle,
While we walk the path, in the very middle.
Our own demons are dancing so gleefully upon the rock!
But it is too late to send them back, they just grow stronger,
While into the murk the latest sacrifices are made to sink!
The ones who live below, accept them with celebration.
We who look, watch, and wait must do all that we see fit,
Calling up the greater powers, the ones that purity protects.
Pristine traditions keep us wise, as we cast magical nets!
To catch the drowned devils within the dark,
Binding them until to us they hark! Oh, yes!
Listen to the waters and to them confess.
At the legend of the things that below you creep.
Look on the dark waters, oh how they are glistening!
But if you look deeper, there is something just beneath,
Watching, waiting, hoping for you to get a bit closer!
Oh so peaceful, just to look at the ripples for a while.
Wait until the waters turn, wait until the waters churn,
Then you will see what I have witnessed, only to see no more.
I will still be waiting, watching for you from the far shore!
In the waters, in the waters,
Beware the green daughters!
The rains fall, the streams rise,
The dark ones whisper truth and lies.
From the rocks and the sand, from the dark listening!
They are rising up, crowned with seaweed for a wreath,
Around drowned heads, which look up from down lower!
Digging their way up from the beach, their hearts vile.
Go with them and you will know what it is to in cold burn,
The mother of the murk, who is an ancient one's wild whore.
Speak her name, speak her name, a name you should abhor!
Beneath the waves, beneath the waves,
More come with the fading of the day!
The storms rage, the arrogant sage,
Should have foreseen this feral age!
Upon the island, upon the mainland, carrion feeders flock!
They sense the horrors of those who lie in graves no longer,
Come with me, let me show you the way into the labyrinth!
I know the paths, I have the key to the gate of desolation.
From the elders it was given, but no name did they grant it,
When they watched from the dark, whispering their secrets.
Before the rising of the damned from their own torments!
In the dark clouds, in the dark clouds,
The winged things come in foul crowds!
We know the riddle, death plays the fiddle,
While we walk the path, in the very middle.
Our own demons are dancing so gleefully upon the rock!
But it is too late to send them back, they just grow stronger,
While into the murk the latest sacrifices are made to sink!
The ones who live below, accept them with celebration.
We who look, watch, and wait must do all that we see fit,
Calling up the greater powers, the ones that purity protects.
Pristine traditions keep us wise, as we cast magical nets!
To catch the drowned devils within the dark,
Binding them until to us they hark! Oh, yes!
Listen to the waters and to them confess.
Written by LaBrujaOscura_75
(Camilla Beatriz Flores)
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Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Water
After Maria Negroni’s the Baby
Power is in nonviolence, nonresistance.
Water gives, and takes
in the tides without strife,
allowing silent strength to permeate,
take shape in reception.
Build, and break.
I am Water.
When you dig deep you find me.
You will always find me.
Mamma, stand down,
your baby is well.
He is curious, keen and lively;
his desires actualized,
he bathes in our world’s treasures.
His competence leans into your scriptures,
resides blessed among
the many structures nature bears;
he remembers everything.
Woman, build courage,
allow me to guide you
graciously to your spoils,
enwrapped in Water,
draped in might: assent.
Then wait.
Your babies will always come back with the tides.
Power is in nonviolence, nonresistance.
Water gives, and takes
in the tides without strife,
allowing silent strength to permeate,
take shape in reception.
Build, and break.
I am Water.
When you dig deep you find me.
You will always find me.
Mamma, stand down,
your baby is well.
He is curious, keen and lively;
his desires actualized,
he bathes in our world’s treasures.
His competence leans into your scriptures,
resides blessed among
the many structures nature bears;
he remembers everything.
Woman, build courage,
allow me to guide you
graciously to your spoils,
enwrapped in Water,
draped in might: assent.
Then wait.
Your babies will always come back with the tides.
Written by ursa
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Anonymous
<< post removed >>
When Her Eyes are Green
The misty olive colored water has reflections
Its raining
And the reflections are muddled with rings
Rings that spiral out and out
Not quite reaching me
My hand
Where is sit on the wooden bench
Under my umbrella spattered with pink flowers and rain
Drops that fall and roll and stay just on the edge
Until another pushes it aside
Like tears
Hanging on at my chin until another
Rolls down and screams until the first one falls
Like the ripple effect
Reflected in the misty olive colored water
The same color as my eyes
On certain days
Like today, I know they are not gray today, not blue
I tuck my legs in under me but my toes still feel the rain
Cold soft rain
Splattering through sandals
Its starting to pound the umbrella harder
But the dogwood flowers just smile and wave
My toes are taking a beating now
I can barely see the water down the hill, the lake of
Misty olive colored water
Is hidden from view
And the rain
It pours down
All around
Like the tears that stain my shirt and make me shiver
Dark circles, perfect circles spreading out
Touching each other, holding hands
Remind me of the ripples, the rings down in the lake
Not quite reaching me
My hand
Its raining
And I can hear the song its singing
Down there
in the misty olive colored water
Its raining
And the reflections are muddled with rings
Rings that spiral out and out
Not quite reaching me
My hand
Where is sit on the wooden bench
Under my umbrella spattered with pink flowers and rain
Drops that fall and roll and stay just on the edge
Until another pushes it aside
Like tears
Hanging on at my chin until another
Rolls down and screams until the first one falls
Like the ripple effect
Reflected in the misty olive colored water
The same color as my eyes
On certain days
Like today, I know they are not gray today, not blue
I tuck my legs in under me but my toes still feel the rain
Cold soft rain
Splattering through sandals
Its starting to pound the umbrella harder
But the dogwood flowers just smile and wave
My toes are taking a beating now
I can barely see the water down the hill, the lake of
Misty olive colored water
Is hidden from view
And the rain
It pours down
All around
Like the tears that stain my shirt and make me shiver
Dark circles, perfect circles spreading out
Touching each other, holding hands
Remind me of the ripples, the rings down in the lake
Not quite reaching me
My hand
Its raining
And I can hear the song its singing
Down there
in the misty olive colored water
Written by DreamIllusions
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