Poetry competition CLOSED 16th September 2023 4:11pm
WINNER
Rew
Rew
Page:
Your Two Cents Worth
Changes (x22)
When I was young, banks closed at 3PM
You needed to change a check?
Needed funds for the week-end? Best get a move on....
When I was young there was no métro
To go downtown took a good hour plus to get there
Nowadays it takes maybe twenty minutes
When I was young you had only bus tickets
No fancy passes like today
When I was young, no internet
And newspapers weighed a ton
Now they are pretty much all gone
True, the internet is a huge plus
Everything available at the click
Of a button.
You needed to change a check?
Needed funds for the week-end? Best get a move on....
When I was young there was no métro
To go downtown took a good hour plus to get there
Nowadays it takes maybe twenty minutes
When I was young you had only bus tickets
No fancy passes like today
When I was young, no internet
And newspapers weighed a ton
Now they are pretty much all gone
True, the internet is a huge plus
Everything available at the click
Of a button.
Written by robert43041
(Viking)
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Anonymous
<< post removed >>
What went West?
The slickity-click of ticket machines
toted by conductor or conductress,
on clattering trams, screeching on steel wheels,
me, delivering newspapers to the wrong address,
where breakfast smells mingled with shrieking kids
and cheesy milkmen's " gahn, give us a flash "
a dozen voices squealing " bags me first dibs "
for wearing the milk monitor's blue and white sash...
My red bike, on which I toured my small world,
the one with white-wall tyres and two tone seat,
do you remember it? Proper boys and girls...
please, remember... squeaking round memories' streets?
Or were you the oik who, on one of my rides,
Screeched " Hoy! Geroff an milk it, swotty-four-eyes! ``
toted by conductor or conductress,
on clattering trams, screeching on steel wheels,
me, delivering newspapers to the wrong address,
where breakfast smells mingled with shrieking kids
and cheesy milkmen's " gahn, give us a flash "
a dozen voices squealing " bags me first dibs "
for wearing the milk monitor's blue and white sash...
My red bike, on which I toured my small world,
the one with white-wall tyres and two tone seat,
do you remember it? Proper boys and girls...
please, remember... squeaking round memories' streets?
Or were you the oik who, on one of my rides,
Screeched " Hoy! Geroff an milk it, swotty-four-eyes! ``
Written by Rew
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A Glitch in Time
and there he stood
with his low hood
the grey figure in sight
commanding fright
his scythe shines
for unholy harvests
the child was birthed
at the strike of twelve
he smiled eyes closed
there...so much love
Scytheman stood awhile
his face broke in unfamiliar smile
for a while he remembered sunshine
and then he brought the baby
to Glory.
with his low hood
the grey figure in sight
commanding fright
his scythe shines
for unholy harvests
the child was birthed
at the strike of twelve
he smiled eyes closed
there...so much love
Scytheman stood awhile
his face broke in unfamiliar smile
for a while he remembered sunshine
and then he brought the baby
to Glory.
Written by Grace
(IDryad)
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Each John Hancock on the Dotted Line
*
So much has changed since I was born sans giving my consent --
no baby being birthed today to live in discontent --
none croaking in a hurricane or quake or flood or fire --
none daisies pushing up on having braved a cancer dire --
none yet the bucket kicking having caught a fatal flu --
none killed in Mali's conflict zone, none starved in Timbuktu --
none strangled having met some sweet-as-candy pedophile --
none dropped by any mass school shooter going out in style --
none trapped here on a planet wee without a guarantee
of drawing each new breath -- before its final breath -- pain free.
*
So much has changed since I was born sans giving my consent --
no baby being birthed today to live in discontent --
none croaking in a hurricane or quake or flood or fire --
none daisies pushing up on having braved a cancer dire --
none yet the bucket kicking having caught a fatal flu --
none killed in Mali's conflict zone, none starved in Timbuktu --
none strangled having met some sweet-as-candy pedophile --
none dropped by any mass school shooter going out in style --
none trapped here on a planet wee without a guarantee
of drawing each new breath -- before its final breath -- pain free.
*
Written by Jordan
(D.O.C.)
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multi-hued memories
angel wings spread above us
silent guardians in glimmering hover
benevolent gaze steady upon their flock
stained glass manifestations
brilliantly fragmented
as sun shone through their panes
once a week there I was
feeling special just to be in their presence
blessed by the mere touch
of warm rays caressing my face
like the fingers of a loving god
I remember tracing intricate patterns in the wood
one thumbnail following a crack in the grain
small feet dangling free
well above carpet worn thin by prayer-bent knees
little silver buckles biting with each gentle swing
the pinching pull of tender flesh
where skirts didn't quite cover my thighs
and the drone in the pulpit going on and on
mother's hand vice-gripping my leg
if I so much as looked like I might move
as I fought to be still
silent
not my strongest virtues
like a roving river in constant motion
my tiny body forever moving
{only ever bound by society's constraints}
reverence was expected
and I was the wild child
unearthly & uncommon
always humming softly beneath my breath
twitchy & touchy
sensitive to textures & moods
never quite understood
truly, a bit of a conundrum
the unnatural kid with too many questions
and quite a fervent imagination
{a world in which I preferred to spend all my time}
stood failingly in comparison
side by side all the other children sitting quietly
the epitome of perfection
little girls with their beautiful curls & immaculate dresses
never heard
only seen
{but if they don't hear you
are you really there...
just a thought}
and then there was me
the outcast leaf on the family tree
always rumpled & disheveled
because movement was part of my being
never quite able to make a full connection
only slightly
around the edges
but today I think of that pew
all those hours spent trying to conform
doing my best to please & fit in
and here I am
no longer trying...
Written by WillowsWhimsies
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Education
The minute I chose to continue my education
A lot of things began to change for me
I experienced a different kind of aspiration
Which instantly grew a new curiosity
It stated a thirst for knowledge and understanding
Through books and conversations with friends
For it was one of the ways to help my advancing
In the area of self improvement to make amends
Education also served as a constant reminder
That things are always changing and evolving
Keeping up with the hustle of the daily grinder
And It also helped me be better at problem solving
But most of all education gave a different point of view
In the intricate way the world and people work
And as technologies continue to have break through
I must keep to my wits and not be left in the murk
Written by wallyroo92
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(More Than) A Few Things (That Were Science Fiction When I Was A Kid)
men on the moon
two way radios
cell phones
space shuttles
desktop computers
color TV
(TVs that don’t use rabbit ears)
flat screen TVs
space stations
GPS
CD-ROMs
DVDs
LSD
Roofies
Fentanyl
hammer
harem
pants
snap bracelets
fanny packs
pop rocks
lasers
augmented reality
video games
cardiac stents
CaT scans MRIs
pacemakers
24 hour news
bucky balls
quarks
carbon fiber
cannabis dispensaries
cardiac cath labs
aspartame
stevia
coke zero
electrolyte drinks
energy drinks
flavored vodka
internet
WiFi
Bluetooth
space-X
starlink
teslas
USBs
flash drives
the cloud
back up cameras
airbags
LEDs
a few
things
we still have
from
when i was a kid
(that i wish we didn’t)
wars
bigots
greed
© 2023 Raibeart Bruis
two way radios
cell phones
space shuttles
desktop computers
color TV
(TVs that don’t use rabbit ears)
flat screen TVs
space stations
GPS
CD-ROMs
DVDs
LSD
Roofies
Fentanyl
hammer
harem
pants
snap bracelets
fanny packs
pop rocks
lasers
augmented reality
video games
cardiac stents
CaT scans MRIs
pacemakers
24 hour news
bucky balls
quarks
carbon fiber
cannabis dispensaries
cardiac cath labs
aspartame
stevia
coke zero
electrolyte drinks
energy drinks
flavored vodka
internet
WiFi
Bluetooth
space-X
starlink
teslas
USBs
flash drives
the cloud
back up cameras
airbags
LEDs
a few
things
we still have
from
when i was a kid
(that i wish we didn’t)
wars
bigots
greed
© 2023 Raibeart Bruis
Written by Kinkpoet
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a summertime's worth of liberation
The scent of honeysuckle
infiltrates my memories
conjuring long bike rides
banana seats
and double dipped ice cream cones
Those first senses of teen freedom,
watermelon jolly ranchers
building forts
making nightly fire pits
for warding off mosquitoes
From days first light
until fireflies twinkle bright;
being among those friends
was sacred and profound, that group
was certainty in friends forever
Having the time of your life (up until then)
was cemented in all that glorious youth;
night swimming amidst the jasmine
that first kiss, from the red-headed boy
that I always squealed was "Ewww"...
Sprinklers, water balloons
hide and seek in the dark;
my favorite was Kick the Can
being so scared while hiding,
that I swear I was going to pee myself
Sleepovers, prank calls
mixed with attempts at light as a feather
backyard camping, s'mores
toilet papering houses
lawn darts and jiffy popcorn
Summer carnivals, illegal fireworks
collecting money for "Jerry's Kids"
sleeping in the cool basement
watching this new novelty called MTV
understanding in full what' being unique'
really meant
Discovering a solid sense of self
without usual pressures
an oasis of summertime stretched before me
where latitude was happily given
because out of their hair, was also their freedom
And three months
of successful 'emancipation'
was it's own
cherished reward
Written by Bluevelvete
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The Biggest Change
The conversation
never stops
How bad the weather's got
the way that summer's not
a little boy's freedom to roam
I still miss Grandma's chocolate waffles
the sweetest toffee apples
skipping happy all the way home
Grandpa drove a pony and trap
shot rabbits in the field out back
At school girls couldn't wear pants
and on Sunday's God said
you couldn't play gin lest the Devil walked in
to dirty your hands
We shared the phone line with a neighbor
the only jam came in a jar
Dad's car the only traffic on our street
I hated bony herrings for Friday tea
cabbage boiled for hours to make it sweet
and a teaspoon of sennapods
waiting cold for those who wouldn't eat
Funerals weddings christenings
reflect the real speed of things
though now change comes so fast
I barely notice until the mirror screams
but hospital chairs feel harder
young folks seem scared sometimes
just saying hello
and so the biggest change
must be me
never stops
How bad the weather's got
the way that summer's not
a little boy's freedom to roam
I still miss Grandma's chocolate waffles
the sweetest toffee apples
skipping happy all the way home
Grandpa drove a pony and trap
shot rabbits in the field out back
At school girls couldn't wear pants
and on Sunday's God said
you couldn't play gin lest the Devil walked in
to dirty your hands
We shared the phone line with a neighbor
the only jam came in a jar
Dad's car the only traffic on our street
I hated bony herrings for Friday tea
cabbage boiled for hours to make it sweet
and a teaspoon of sennapods
waiting cold for those who wouldn't eat
Funerals weddings christenings
reflect the real speed of things
though now change comes so fast
I barely notice until the mirror screams
but hospital chairs feel harder
young folks seem scared sometimes
just saying hello
and so the biggest change
must be me
Written by Abracadabra
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