Poetry competition CLOSED 16th February 2023 6:44pm
WINNER
wallyroo92
wallyroo92
RUNNERS-UP:
BrookeAlynn
and PAR
COULD YOU BE LIKE CUPID?
Poetry Contest Description
If you could be cupid, what would you do? Who would you make fall in true love? What kind of love darts would you have? Tell me what would you wear and if you would talk or stay mute. Your cupid personality and humor.
Would you be a good or bad cupid giving good or bad love? But who would you try make falling in love and with who?
Make it a poem or a story. Be creative and focus hard if you had such a power as to cast love. Valentine's is around the corner so who will be falling in love thanks to you.
Be my Valentine ....
Stories......
Who does not like Debauchery?
May be I am very brave
Or am just plain stupid
I just go for what I crave
In the absence of the cupid.
You like what you like
I like what you like
You try to look away
And deny the needful play.
Assault on the senses
Makes much more sense
Than living in denial
And the useless suspense.
Or am just plain stupid
I just go for what I crave
In the absence of the cupid.
You like what you like
I like what you like
You try to look away
And deny the needful play.
Assault on the senses
Makes much more sense
Than living in denial
And the useless suspense.
Written by ncof
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Like a Machine
I am grateful for my heart's stoic ice
Forbidding itself too easily smit
By the slightest beauty seemingly nice
With intellect to accompany it;
Troublesome enough to manage affairs
After filtering the commonweal
From the finer things with which it compares
In its odd rarefication zeal...
All too often entirely unfair,
Making stoics poorly jurisprudent
In all matters of tender loving care...
Or whenever heartache is protrudent.
Yet often I see heartless thoughts depart
When vexing milady with Cupid's dart!
Forbidding itself too easily smit
By the slightest beauty seemingly nice
With intellect to accompany it;
Troublesome enough to manage affairs
After filtering the commonweal
From the finer things with which it compares
In its odd rarefication zeal...
All too often entirely unfair,
Making stoics poorly jurisprudent
In all matters of tender loving care...
Or whenever heartache is protrudent.
Yet often I see heartless thoughts depart
When vexing milady with Cupid's dart!
Written by MidnightSonneteer
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Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Cupid's dart
He was a slave to her heart
For Cupid had well placed his dart
What else could he do
But play his intended part
As if now a total marionnette
Despised her mind, loved the sex
He no longer had control, all was fixed and set
So the game of love is a roulette
You win, you lose, place your bet
But if you are not ready for this high stake game
Keep your marbles and stay away from the dames.
For Cupid had well placed his dart
What else could he do
But play his intended part
As if now a total marionnette
Despised her mind, loved the sex
He no longer had control, all was fixed and set
So the game of love is a roulette
You win, you lose, place your bet
But if you are not ready for this high stake game
Keep your marbles and stay away from the dames.
Written by robert43041
(Viking)
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If I Was Cupid...
If I was Cupid…
I’d make two of the most hateful manliest homophobes
Feel something for each other in their souls
So that their core beliefs would rock in their foundations
And that their erections couldn’t be controlled
Whenever they looked into each other’s eyes
If I was Cupid…
I’d make two people from different faiths and creeds
Who have hatred and bigotry for each other’s cultures
Fall in love to the point they couldn’t stand to be apart
So that they would realize religion doesn’t really count
When it comes to matters of the heart
If I was Cupid…
I’d make two people from opposite extreme political views
Fall deep into the depths of love, lust and compassion
So that the veil of social separation would be lifted
And bring them a little closer to a middle ground
Toward a compromise that brings about harmony
If I was Cupid
I’d shoot a shit load of arrows into narcissists and egocentrics
So they would feel a spiritual love and connection to others
Who are the complete opposite of them
May be then reality would give them a better understanding
That beauty exists beyond what the eye can see
But that’s just my version
From my quiver I’d deliver arrows like I'm on the attack
You know I like to be funny and stupid
Because if I was Cupid I’d make more opposites attract
Written by wallyroo92
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Related submission no longer exists.
Turn into stone!
Medusa's riddle:
What is a Bone
without a stone?
Oedipus is on fire...
Is on fire!
Is on fire!
Oedipus is lost.
Is blind.
Is in love.
Gods hate him...
Gods hate the sphinx!
Gods hate
a bunch of things.
Such as Chimaera,
no snakes,
no turns...
no peebles!
Cupid takes
Prometheus for a flight
over
Icarus' house!
House of oblivion!
Thousands of rooms!
Labyrinth of noneness...
Unforgiven Cyclops.
On a horse...
not like any sea horse!
White-red Pegasus
red-white!
What happens to a bone
hit by a stone?
Oedipus is blind...
Antigona is lost,
lost,
lost,
not blind...
she's just lost!
She's lost!
Cupid is giving away
bows and arrows!
Cupid is insane and vain!
Lost in oblivion...
Cupid has no idea
how to solve riddles.
Cupid never asks
for answers!
Gods hate Cupid!
Gods hate not being able
to chain him
to a mountain.
Gods hate
a bunch of things!
PAR
Written by PAR
(PAULO ACACIO RAMOS)
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Cupid Is A Warrior
On a hot summers day, her in a depressive state, grabbed pen and paper, and opened the gate.
A cemetery ready, the scene matching mood, firey scribble, mark out...then redo.
Tears flooding lines, a gun in her bag, if poetry didn't work, shed trigger hurt dead.
Looking up to blue skies, screaming to God, Please just let me die!!
Peripheral vision catching glimpse of a figure in the trees, she knew someone was there, but who could it be?
Eyes straight ahead, her sleeve wiping tears, to get a better view of the being who's shadow was near.
Grabbing her phone in a frantic mad feign, a hundred takes in a second, she knew this wasn't a dream.
All of the sudden, a buck enters the scene...
With grace he gated across the meadows tall grass, her attention now turned, it happened so fast. A quick snap of the new wonder embracing her eyes, so majestic, so brave, and no fear in his stride.
After a few minutes he faded from view, and her heart calm as ever, like somebody knew.
A relief in her soul, and peace on her side, she packed up her things, no longer wishing to die.
As she made it back home, pondering events.
She uploaded her pictures, and there caught a glimpse, of an Indian chief, head dress and long bow, I had interrupted his hunt, he interrupted my flow.
Both of us there for death, only his had noble meaning, he was just trying to eat, I was broken and screaming.
They say cupid is the angel of love, I say cupid is an Indian warrior chief sent from above.
Unto this day, I keep his picture safe, our aims were both off through irony and fate.
A cemetery ready, the scene matching mood, firey scribble, mark out...then redo.
Tears flooding lines, a gun in her bag, if poetry didn't work, shed trigger hurt dead.
Looking up to blue skies, screaming to God, Please just let me die!!
Peripheral vision catching glimpse of a figure in the trees, she knew someone was there, but who could it be?
Eyes straight ahead, her sleeve wiping tears, to get a better view of the being who's shadow was near.
Grabbing her phone in a frantic mad feign, a hundred takes in a second, she knew this wasn't a dream.
All of the sudden, a buck enters the scene...
With grace he gated across the meadows tall grass, her attention now turned, it happened so fast. A quick snap of the new wonder embracing her eyes, so majestic, so brave, and no fear in his stride.
After a few minutes he faded from view, and her heart calm as ever, like somebody knew.
A relief in her soul, and peace on her side, she packed up her things, no longer wishing to die.
As she made it back home, pondering events.
She uploaded her pictures, and there caught a glimpse, of an Indian chief, head dress and long bow, I had interrupted his hunt, he interrupted my flow.
Both of us there for death, only his had noble meaning, he was just trying to eat, I was broken and screaming.
They say cupid is the angel of love, I say cupid is an Indian warrior chief sent from above.
Unto this day, I keep his picture safe, our aims were both off through irony and fate.
Written by BrookeAlynn
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Related submission no longer exists.
