Poetry competition CLOSED 3rd February 2023 3:00am
WINNER
Bluevelvete
Bluevelvete
RUNNERS-UP:
Fallen_Angel_194
and Eleanor_Braveheart
Alive in Memory
Lessons in life (Part 1 Try a little Kindness)
Mr Barker chose to teach, it didn’t choose him,
it laughed at him, pushed past him
showed him all its failed floors
and ugly scuffed rough corridors,
it spat manic in his face
tried to trip him, open his case.
He trembled and couldn’t control
the class or his body,
holding chalk was a chore.
I gave my advice for free,
keep away you tosser
before you infect me.
I was outside college
hugging coffee cups for warmth
as the elephant shuffled onto the ice.
It rattled like a witch doctor's bone bag
its legs shook with each mouse size step.
Shoulders heavy under the weight
of knowing it would only get worse.
I fell, offering an apologetic hand,
taking an arm as strong as a spasm.
For the first time I saw it,
the tired effort beneath such frailty,
grey wrinkles of desperation
in search of normality,
hiding in the chaos of the herd.
As the elephant drove away
I saw his secret graveyard
and how he would arrive there alone.
From then on when Mr Barker chose to teach,
I chose not to be a dickhead.
it laughed at him, pushed past him
showed him all its failed floors
and ugly scuffed rough corridors,
it spat manic in his face
tried to trip him, open his case.
He trembled and couldn’t control
the class or his body,
holding chalk was a chore.
I gave my advice for free,
keep away you tosser
before you infect me.
I was outside college
hugging coffee cups for warmth
as the elephant shuffled onto the ice.
It rattled like a witch doctor's bone bag
its legs shook with each mouse size step.
Shoulders heavy under the weight
of knowing it would only get worse.
I fell, offering an apologetic hand,
taking an arm as strong as a spasm.
For the first time I saw it,
the tired effort beneath such frailty,
grey wrinkles of desperation
in search of normality,
hiding in the chaos of the herd.
As the elephant drove away
I saw his secret graveyard
and how he would arrive there alone.
From then on when Mr Barker chose to teach,
I chose not to be a dickhead.
Written by Razzerleaf
Go To Page
Anonymous
Origami Memories
(Prologue)
I’m not sure which came first:
pang of familiar finality, or
numb moments of calamity.
Knotted pull and tug, beneath
offerings of benign serenity.
Although, the path was clear
he was gone before I got there.
I still remember the vacant eyes
piece of my heart clenched in his fist.
*
*
*
There was no room in this house
crowded by Indians, Spanish and Jews
crawling the corridors, displaced, lost.
If it’s not your mother holding a silver spoon
then another woman, gnawing at roots
who lost her footing and her shoe.
Tell me which way doors swing
no closure to hope and fear
re-blooming regrets with fading steps
embracing strangers wandering in.
We have been here before
fate waned to howling gales
Do you recall?
Narcissi by threshold
broken bricks on Kentucky stone
stairway to the attic, cobwebs in our hair
climbed steps, creak..creak..creak
counting one by one, like a hymn
dreams intertwined.
This is the place we called home
origami musings in a paper fold.
Shred anthology with peeled paint
scatter confetti on blades of grass
young and wild
like mad-March-hare
dare steeped, world a stage
beauty amiss in a grain.
Strike the hearth with thunder and light
feeding hunger; life & love
thick with marrow, passions alight.
*
*
*
I heard you whisper in my ear
it was beautiful (I think)
Just like I imagined it to be
perhaps I invented you
perhaps you’re not real..
Hush, my love..not so loud
our unborn children will wake at dawn
shut the windows, bolt the doors
our brilliance shines
today, not tomorrow.
*
*
*
(Epilogue)
The dream ended before it began.
I knelt by the Narcissi
which had bloomed early this year
my hands in the rich soil
toiling, carved cocooned with trust.
I felt you behind me
with warm May breeze
lifting my hair, falling on my ears
dashed to death’s door
this lifetime too short
tending bouquet of mistakes
a distance of a grain.
I think I birthed you
I think you were real
In a house on sticks.
© All Rights Reserved
(Prologue)
I’m not sure which came first:
pang of familiar finality, or
numb moments of calamity.
Knotted pull and tug, beneath
offerings of benign serenity.
Although, the path was clear
he was gone before I got there.
I still remember the vacant eyes
piece of my heart clenched in his fist.
*
*
*
There was no room in this house
crowded by Indians, Spanish and Jews
crawling the corridors, displaced, lost.
If it’s not your mother holding a silver spoon
then another woman, gnawing at roots
who lost her footing and her shoe.
Tell me which way doors swing
no closure to hope and fear
re-blooming regrets with fading steps
embracing strangers wandering in.
We have been here before
fate waned to howling gales
Do you recall?
Narcissi by threshold
broken bricks on Kentucky stone
stairway to the attic, cobwebs in our hair
climbed steps, creak..creak..creak
counting one by one, like a hymn
dreams intertwined.
This is the place we called home
origami musings in a paper fold.
Shred anthology with peeled paint
scatter confetti on blades of grass
young and wild
like mad-March-hare
dare steeped, world a stage
beauty amiss in a grain.
Strike the hearth with thunder and light
feeding hunger; life & love
thick with marrow, passions alight.
*
*
*
I heard you whisper in my ear
it was beautiful (I think)
Just like I imagined it to be
perhaps I invented you
perhaps you’re not real..
Hush, my love..not so loud
our unborn children will wake at dawn
shut the windows, bolt the doors
our brilliance shines
today, not tomorrow.
*
*
*
(Epilogue)
The dream ended before it began.
I knelt by the Narcissi
which had bloomed early this year
my hands in the rich soil
toiling, carved cocooned with trust.
I felt you behind me
with warm May breeze
lifting my hair, falling on my ears
dashed to death’s door
this lifetime too short
tending bouquet of mistakes
a distance of a grain.
I think I birthed you
I think you were real
In a house on sticks.
© All Rights Reserved
A Mother's Hug Goodnight
Frigid calm front
hides in northern winds,
vast sky of my bedroom dims.
Stream in winter
iced over; mother's embrace
letting go at bedtime.
Still rainfall,
sky's dark pillow,
eyelids become anchors; smothering.
The cold front
blanketing this damp landscape,
peacefully covers the coming storm.
hides in northern winds,
vast sky of my bedroom dims.
Stream in winter
iced over; mother's embrace
letting go at bedtime.
Still rainfall,
sky's dark pillow,
eyelids become anchors; smothering.
The cold front
blanketing this damp landscape,
peacefully covers the coming storm.
Written by gothicsurrealism
(Daniel Long)
Go To Page
The Retirement Party
All of Creation, quieted
for a few hours
and sent chickadees to peer in the windows
while I set my tables for the guests.
There were no wars, and
the death clocks stopped ticking
so I could marvel
at the perfect shades of aqua trees
I'd found, to hold
the vintage Shiny-Brites.
"See here! How we glint and dazzle
each of us, a survivor
of many pasts."
I saw, not chemtrails in the sky, but
sunrays
that called forth the Host of Heaven
to lay down their arms
just for a moment-- this moment,
and bless the bowls
on champagne-hued tablecloths.
(I simply must find more
pieces for the cut-glass collection; I shall
need them for gatherings, larger
than this.....I can feel it--they are coming)
Car doors close with "clicks" outside,
muffled voices, laughter, and
everyone spills in from the porch,
warm foods in hand.
I bring out the gifts, and
we reminisce about the past
forty years together, in the laboratory
with the guest of honor .
It is a perfect day.
for a few hours
and sent chickadees to peer in the windows
while I set my tables for the guests.
There were no wars, and
the death clocks stopped ticking
so I could marvel
at the perfect shades of aqua trees
I'd found, to hold
the vintage Shiny-Brites.
"See here! How we glint and dazzle
each of us, a survivor
of many pasts."
I saw, not chemtrails in the sky, but
sunrays
that called forth the Host of Heaven
to lay down their arms
just for a moment-- this moment,
and bless the bowls
on champagne-hued tablecloths.
(I simply must find more
pieces for the cut-glass collection; I shall
need them for gatherings, larger
than this.....I can feel it--they are coming)
Car doors close with "clicks" outside,
muffled voices, laughter, and
everyone spills in from the porch,
warm foods in hand.
I bring out the gifts, and
we reminisce about the past
forty years together, in the laboratory
with the guest of honor .
It is a perfect day.
Written by MadameLavender
Go To Page
November 11th (Our Last Visit)
Alone in a room
Stained glass wall to my right
Nothing but prayer bowls and the exit in sight
Over the intercom,
"Code Blue in the NICU"
The unrelated loss of another
Reminds me of the impending loss of you, too
What am I even doing in here?
I do not really know what to think
If I should pray, or how I will pray
Really, what good will my wishes bring?
Existing in another area
White halls with windows and doors to other dimensions
Neither here, nor there
Eternally suspended
How can we leave you alone?
I try to find comfort in thinking:
I am sure you will let your angels show you the way
Truly peaceful navigating
As far as I can see,
The only things keeping you company
Are the IV drip and cloud screensaver playing on TV
Feeling ashamed of my sadness
I go to cry in the nearby bathroom
Pain-stung, bloodshot eyes
Newfound hurt draining from an emotional wound
I shake myself out of it
Attempt to regain composure
A moment of acceptance, not wasting time
This will be my closure
A lasting goodbye
To find, just seven days later
You will depart here, a new start there
A chance to be with your Savior
November 11th, our last visit
I have nevermore felt so empty-hearted
Stained glass wall to my right
Nothing but prayer bowls and the exit in sight
Over the intercom,
"Code Blue in the NICU"
The unrelated loss of another
Reminds me of the impending loss of you, too
What am I even doing in here?
I do not really know what to think
If I should pray, or how I will pray
Really, what good will my wishes bring?
Existing in another area
White halls with windows and doors to other dimensions
Neither here, nor there
Eternally suspended
How can we leave you alone?
I try to find comfort in thinking:
I am sure you will let your angels show you the way
Truly peaceful navigating
As far as I can see,
The only things keeping you company
Are the IV drip and cloud screensaver playing on TV
Feeling ashamed of my sadness
I go to cry in the nearby bathroom
Pain-stung, bloodshot eyes
Newfound hurt draining from an emotional wound
I shake myself out of it
Attempt to regain composure
A moment of acceptance, not wasting time
This will be my closure
A lasting goodbye
To find, just seven days later
You will depart here, a new start there
A chance to be with your Savior
November 11th, our last visit
I have nevermore felt so empty-hearted
Written by a_piscean_dream
(Tierra)
Go To Page
What Will Survive Of Us Is Love
We burned you into little shells and stars
Melted fingers into perpetual prayer,
Blazed the manuscripts of our library.
In memoriam, set fire to the psalm breeze.
There is no other place where
Their ghosts can ever roam,
Than in our hearts’ mantelpiece.
The hearth will soon be a heath
Where no kites or birds fly.
In the unforgiving space between minds
Guillotined by Alzheimer blades,
Absence anvils the tender hearts:
Each hug is a final hug.
From Dad, the strength and compassion
From Mum, the fear and written word
From my land, the defiance and fight.
From the road
I can see the bonework ridge
Shallow shadows of the cemetery,
Wreathed in rust I navigate my way
To where my mind flowers on death’s stalk.
Trudging gravely over russet duvet
A starling banks as a slumbering jet,
Silence rose until it was still.
Curling leaves into my jacket pocket
I heeled towards home (which is
Nothing more than post-code).
The leaves bleed into the carpet
Whispering secrets to the tables and chairs.
We were child once.
Melted fingers into perpetual prayer,
Blazed the manuscripts of our library.
In memoriam, set fire to the psalm breeze.
There is no other place where
Their ghosts can ever roam,
Than in our hearts’ mantelpiece.
The hearth will soon be a heath
Where no kites or birds fly.
In the unforgiving space between minds
Guillotined by Alzheimer blades,
Absence anvils the tender hearts:
Each hug is a final hug.
From Dad, the strength and compassion
From Mum, the fear and written word
From my land, the defiance and fight.
From the road
I can see the bonework ridge
Shallow shadows of the cemetery,
Wreathed in rust I navigate my way
To where my mind flowers on death’s stalk.
Trudging gravely over russet duvet
A starling banks as a slumbering jet,
Silence rose until it was still.
Curling leaves into my jacket pocket
I heeled towards home (which is
Nothing more than post-code).
The leaves bleed into the carpet
Whispering secrets to the tables and chairs.
We were child once.
Written by Strangeways_Rob
Go To Page
Faded to Gray
The memories have faded,
And with them,
Much of the pain.
As those memories faded,
The anger,
Why him?
Why not me?
Vanished,
Wondrously,
Completely.
Bright colorful snapshots,
Replaced by,
A mellowed image,
Washed out,
Nearly lost to the fog of time,
Grainy,
Nearly transparent,
Gray,
Shadowy.
Remembrances,
Of what once was.
Bits still survive,
In Sepia.
I held your hair back,
While you vomited,
Your too much beer,
You had at the party.
Walking across campus,
My arm around your waist,
Your hand in my back pocket.
Walking in the warm spring rain,
Soaking wet,
Laughing,
We were so very young.
There are many,
No longer vivid,
Still warm me at night,
Faded,
Not forgotten.
I thought of you,
The other day,
When Joanie,
Died.
Alone.
Breast cancer.
Your wedding was the week,
After mine.
Yours ended,
Mine is dying.
I Googled,
The name,
I knew you by;
Nothing.
I Googled,
The name you took,
Marrying him,
Before divorcing him;
Nothing.
Vanished.
Achingly.
And with them,
Much of the pain.
As those memories faded,
The anger,
Why him?
Why not me?
Vanished,
Wondrously,
Completely.
Bright colorful snapshots,
Replaced by,
A mellowed image,
Washed out,
Nearly lost to the fog of time,
Grainy,
Nearly transparent,
Gray,
Shadowy.
Remembrances,
Of what once was.
Bits still survive,
In Sepia.
I held your hair back,
While you vomited,
Your too much beer,
You had at the party.
Walking across campus,
My arm around your waist,
Your hand in my back pocket.
Walking in the warm spring rain,
Soaking wet,
Laughing,
We were so very young.
There are many,
No longer vivid,
Still warm me at night,
Faded,
Not forgotten.
I thought of you,
The other day,
When Joanie,
Died.
Alone.
Breast cancer.
Your wedding was the week,
After mine.
Yours ended,
Mine is dying.
I Googled,
The name,
I knew you by;
Nothing.
I Googled,
The name you took,
Marrying him,
Before divorcing him;
Nothing.
Vanished.
Achingly.
Written by J_J_Jay_Jr
Go To Page
Came in a dream
You came to me in a dream, just the other night
it's as if you did not recognize me, it did not feel right.
You sat upon a bench, confused and looking pensive
You looked at me with eyes, appearing apprehensive
The only thing I knew to do, I bent and whispered in your ear
"I love you Mom" and backed away, I am not sure that you could hear
I felt as If the dream was ending, and I was being pulled away
I turned around, very slowly, just in time to hear you say,
"What was that you said to me?" now her spirit was breaking through
Her countenance with an angelic look, she said, "I love you too"
RIP Mom
You will always be my Angel
it's as if you did not recognize me, it did not feel right.
You sat upon a bench, confused and looking pensive
You looked at me with eyes, appearing apprehensive
The only thing I knew to do, I bent and whispered in your ear
"I love you Mom" and backed away, I am not sure that you could hear
I felt as If the dream was ending, and I was being pulled away
I turned around, very slowly, just in time to hear you say,
"What was that you said to me?" now her spirit was breaking through
Her countenance with an angelic look, she said, "I love you too"
RIP Mom
You will always be my Angel
Written by TIG
Go To Page
AUDIENCE WITH MY QUEEN AT RECESS
(tap on the shoulder)
“Hi Bobby!”
Oh, hi mom!
“What are you drawing?”
Some World War Two planes...
that’s a P-51 Mustang
“Very nice!”
And that’s a B-17...
they call it the “Flying Fortress.”
“Wow, cool name!
Those sure are funny bubble windows.”
Yeah...those are machine guns sticking out.
“Well they are masterpieces…
worthy of any refrigerator door.”
Thanks mom!
Ben taught me how to draw them.
“He’s a good friend that Ben.”
Yeah.
Can I ask you something?
“Yes, anything.”
So, why did you leave me?
I miss you so much!
(tears erupting in her eyes)
“I was very sad when I had to go.
I just couldn’t be a good mommy anymore…
the pain was too much to bear.”
Oh, I’m sorry I made you cry…
it’s okay...you’re here now.
“Yes, always.”
My friend Robin died.
“I know I am...”
Hit by a Corvette…
crossing the street…
and she was in the crosswalk.
We planted a memorial tree for her…
right next to the tetherball poles…
there near the playground.
I miss her too…
she was funny…
and pretty.
“She’s a wonderful little girl…
and still your friend.”
How do you know?
“We’ve met...I gave her a big hug.
She misses you too.”
Your not just saying that…
I mean to make me feel better, right?
“Cross my heart and hope to…
uh, it’s true...believe me”
I do!
(bell rings)
I gotta help put away the balls and get to class.
Bye mom! I really hate goodbye’s ya know?
“I know Bobby...so do I.
I’m always around if you want or need to talk.”
Thanks mommy!
I love you!
I love you too, son.
Give a hug to your sisters for me.”
Ewww, really? Okay I will.
If you see her again, say “hi” to Robin for me…
tell her I really miss her crazy laugh.
Ask her if she still plays four-square up there…
we were a great team.
“I will.”
See ya later alligator!
“After ‘while crocodile.”
“Hi Bobby!”
Oh, hi mom!
“What are you drawing?”
Some World War Two planes...
that’s a P-51 Mustang
“Very nice!”
And that’s a B-17...
they call it the “Flying Fortress.”
“Wow, cool name!
Those sure are funny bubble windows.”
Yeah...those are machine guns sticking out.
“Well they are masterpieces…
worthy of any refrigerator door.”
Thanks mom!
Ben taught me how to draw them.
“He’s a good friend that Ben.”
Yeah.
Can I ask you something?
“Yes, anything.”
So, why did you leave me?
I miss you so much!
(tears erupting in her eyes)
“I was very sad when I had to go.
I just couldn’t be a good mommy anymore…
the pain was too much to bear.”
Oh, I’m sorry I made you cry…
it’s okay...you’re here now.
“Yes, always.”
My friend Robin died.
“I know I am...”
Hit by a Corvette…
crossing the street…
and she was in the crosswalk.
We planted a memorial tree for her…
right next to the tetherball poles…
there near the playground.
I miss her too…
she was funny…
and pretty.
“She’s a wonderful little girl…
and still your friend.”
How do you know?
“We’ve met...I gave her a big hug.
She misses you too.”
Your not just saying that…
I mean to make me feel better, right?
“Cross my heart and hope to…
uh, it’s true...believe me”
I do!
(bell rings)
I gotta help put away the balls and get to class.
Bye mom! I really hate goodbye’s ya know?
“I know Bobby...so do I.
I’m always around if you want or need to talk.”
Thanks mommy!
I love you!
I love you too, son.
Give a hug to your sisters for me.”
Ewww, really? Okay I will.
If you see her again, say “hi” to Robin for me…
tell her I really miss her crazy laugh.
Ask her if she still plays four-square up there…
we were a great team.
“I will.”
See ya later alligator!
“After ‘while crocodile.”
Written by Gahddess_Worship
(Osomajestuoso)
Go To Page
Anonymous
God's Own
"God's Own"
Butterflies gently laid her 'pon God's throne
Quietly he spoke "My child you have come home"
Her tears glistening dew drops of dawn's glory
Settling her crimson consumed with worry
Glowing in his embrace her weary soul slept
Angels wept listening to the soft swell of breath
Meadowlark harmonies were never more sweet
Tasha found her resting place at God's feet
Waking from slumber she rose without pain
Pouring from her eyes a warm gentle rain
Showering the heavens in magnificent bliss
Granting every child their most desired wish
A golden chamber filled her chest in renewed love
This was her destiny feathered in the skies above
Stirring inside a gypsy eager to please all
Radiating brightly pride that stood proud & tall
Looking back at life very pleased with it's return
Faithfully romanced in his graceful crown's adorn
Shot outta the dark blazing heavenly skylines
A shooting star who will forever shine throughout time
Holy babe surrendered to his kingdom from birth
Whispers fell her lips, "No tears over mortal death"
In her loss do not fear, she lives everyday in your hearts
Not even our heavenly father's sneeze could blow apart
The Punk Poet…
Always Be Punk…
Always Be Drunk…
(One Poetry)
Written by Thepunkpoet
(Michelle Chelley Rice)
Go To Page
Faded to Gray
The memories have faded,
And with them,
Much of the pain.
As those memories faded,
The anger,
Why him?
Why not me?
Vanished,
Wondrously,
Completely.
Bright colorful snapshots,
Replaced by,
A mellowed image,
Washed out,
Nearly lost to the fog of time,
Grainy,
Nearly transparent,
Gray,
Shadowy.
Remembrances,
Of what once was.
Bits still survive,
In Sepia.
I held your hair back,
While you vomited,
Your too much beer,
You had at the party.
Walking across campus,
My arm around your waist,
Your hand in my back pocket.
Walking in the warm spring rain,
Soaking wet,
Laughing,
We were so very young.
There are many,
No longer vivid,
Still warm me at night,
Faded,
Not forgotten.
I thought of you,
The other day,
When Joanie,
Died.
Alone.
Breast cancer.
Your wedding was the week,
After mine.
Yours ended,
Mine is dying.
I Googled,
The name,
I knew you by;
Nothing.
I Googled,
The name you took,
Marrying him,
Before divorcing him;
Nothing.
Vanished.
Achingly.
And with them,
Much of the pain.
As those memories faded,
The anger,
Why him?
Why not me?
Vanished,
Wondrously,
Completely.
Bright colorful snapshots,
Replaced by,
A mellowed image,
Washed out,
Nearly lost to the fog of time,
Grainy,
Nearly transparent,
Gray,
Shadowy.
Remembrances,
Of what once was.
Bits still survive,
In Sepia.
I held your hair back,
While you vomited,
Your too much beer,
You had at the party.
Walking across campus,
My arm around your waist,
Your hand in my back pocket.
Walking in the warm spring rain,
Soaking wet,
Laughing,
We were so very young.
There are many,
No longer vivid,
Still warm me at night,
Faded,
Not forgotten.
I thought of you,
The other day,
When Joanie,
Died.
Alone.
Breast cancer.
Your wedding was the week,
After mine.
Yours ended,
Mine is dying.
I Googled,
The name,
I knew you by;
Nothing.
I Googled,
The name you took,
Marrying him,
Before divorcing him;
Nothing.
Vanished.
Achingly.
Written by J_J_Jay_Jr
Go To Page
Priti
Priti, so fair, a beautiful sight,
Her smile, sunshine, in the morning light.
Her grace and charm, an enchanting spell,
Her laughter, is a melody, that none can quell.
In her eyes, a love, so warm and so true,
A flame that'll glow, in the skies of blue.
I'm drawn to her, like a bee to a rose,
Her love, a treasure, that only grows
So I write this verse, with my heart in my hand,
With rhythm and rhyme, so graceful and grand.
With every word, I hope she can see,
The depth of my love is as deep as the sea.
For Priti, so fair, with a heart of gold
I'll love her always, till I grow old.
And I pray as she reads these lines so true,
She'll feel the love, that I have for her too
Her smile, sunshine, in the morning light.
Her grace and charm, an enchanting spell,
Her laughter, is a melody, that none can quell.
In her eyes, a love, so warm and so true,
A flame that'll glow, in the skies of blue.
I'm drawn to her, like a bee to a rose,
Her love, a treasure, that only grows
So I write this verse, with my heart in my hand,
With rhythm and rhyme, so graceful and grand.
With every word, I hope she can see,
The depth of my love is as deep as the sea.
For Priti, so fair, with a heart of gold
I'll love her always, till I grow old.
And I pray as she reads these lines so true,
She'll feel the love, that I have for her too
Written by Pratik
Go To Page
Anonymous
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