Poetry competition CLOSED 28th October 2023 12:37pm
WINNER
Razzerleaf
Razzerleaf
RUNNERS-UP:
adagio
and Kinkpoet
Terror
Antiquities of Lost Fears
In the shadows of the antiquities of lost fears and
fingerprints without light in my naked shade of pale.
Beneath twilight's dawn with the scent of the dew,
waiting for mortals to weed the grass deep down to
my soul. Walking my own chalk line beneath the
acumens and the dark's chignon. As angels are
forever in my time and God is my concierge.
Wandering in the eternal darkness with Mal de
Coucou, flushing out the toxins, in the land of the
frozen caribou.
fingerprints without light in my naked shade of pale.
Beneath twilight's dawn with the scent of the dew,
waiting for mortals to weed the grass deep down to
my soul. Walking my own chalk line beneath the
acumens and the dark's chignon. As angels are
forever in my time and God is my concierge.
Wandering in the eternal darkness with Mal de
Coucou, flushing out the toxins, in the land of the
frozen caribou.
Written by adagio
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Becoming Death
Mother was too pale to cough black,
Father became the house,
a face of weathered granite
melded with the stones,
kept crooked by the constant wind
raging off the moors.
When I look to the fields
the scarecrow sees me,
he's been whispering.
When the weathervane turns
his snakes hiss across the crops,
I don’t want to listen anymore
but the ground connects us.
I watch the walls at night,
my back to the flames,
creatures come to dance behind me.
He told me not to turn
so I watch a life of shadows
flying with the sun and rain,
straining to see the subtleties.
He's moving closer to the house,
I call the children in from the washing line
they've been out all day
flapping like larks on the breeze.
I hold them to my cheek smell their folded hair.
He's outside the window now,
I haven’t moved for days.
The house growls as the wind changes direction
and he's sitting at my table,
insects sprawling from his outstretched hands.
It only takes a touch.
I’m in the top field
listening for two travelers
as they cross the moors,
one is very weak so I tell him
he won't make the journey.
Then I move a little closer,
I know he can hear me.
Father became the house,
a face of weathered granite
melded with the stones,
kept crooked by the constant wind
raging off the moors.
When I look to the fields
the scarecrow sees me,
he's been whispering.
When the weathervane turns
his snakes hiss across the crops,
I don’t want to listen anymore
but the ground connects us.
I watch the walls at night,
my back to the flames,
creatures come to dance behind me.
He told me not to turn
so I watch a life of shadows
flying with the sun and rain,
straining to see the subtleties.
He's moving closer to the house,
I call the children in from the washing line
they've been out all day
flapping like larks on the breeze.
I hold them to my cheek smell their folded hair.
He's outside the window now,
I haven’t moved for days.
The house growls as the wind changes direction
and he's sitting at my table,
insects sprawling from his outstretched hands.
It only takes a touch.
I’m in the top field
listening for two travelers
as they cross the moors,
one is very weak so I tell him
he won't make the journey.
Then I move a little closer,
I know he can hear me.
Written by Razzerleaf
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My brother said
All alone tucked up in bed,
remember what your brother said,
if you can hear the faintest noise,
it's hairy hands that strangle boys.
The softest click of a wardrobe latch,
contains a monster, hear it scratch.
Always close that cupboard door,
or through that gap blood will pour.
Listen close for night time growls,
beasts of hell will start to prowl,
in the dark a shadow shifts,
hold your breath their bite is swift.
Never leave a doll to stare,
or sit her watching from a chair,
for as the clock strikes half past one,
you'll look back and see she's gone.
remember what your brother said,
if you can hear the faintest noise,
it's hairy hands that strangle boys.
The softest click of a wardrobe latch,
contains a monster, hear it scratch.
Always close that cupboard door,
or through that gap blood will pour.
Listen close for night time growls,
beasts of hell will start to prowl,
in the dark a shadow shifts,
hold your breath their bite is swift.
Never leave a doll to stare,
or sit her watching from a chair,
for as the clock strikes half past one,
you'll look back and see she's gone.
Written by Razzerleaf
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Dreams
Ever wonder what you would do if all of it was only another's dream?
That all your memories and your hopes and dreams
are the whims of an unsuspecting oaf who could wake up anytime
That all your memories and your hopes and dreams
are the whims of an unsuspecting oaf who could wake up anytime
Written by Ash74
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A fading dream
Sometimes I fear that this is all my life will be
That I'll always be alone since I don't believe anyone would choose me
My only friends are the words I love so much
and the dreams that feel real enough to touch
But no matter how much I don't want to wake
All my dreams will come to an end
That I'll always be alone since I don't believe anyone would choose me
My only friends are the words I love so much
and the dreams that feel real enough to touch
But no matter how much I don't want to wake
All my dreams will come to an end
Written by Ash74
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Being Alone In This World
What are you most afraid of?
Being alone I replied. Why?
Because I could be surrounded
By people yet still feel alone.
People can give me all their love
Yet they do not see the tears I cry.
I can be stable and be well grounded
Yet the dirt and every single stone
Beneath my feet may give and no
One would care. Give up your fears,
But how can I trust everyone when
They give me no reason to be free?
Maybe I am afraid of losing my glow
And to be dull. It is losing the years
I spent building myself with the pen
In my grasp. I am afraid of losing me.
Being alone I replied. Why?
Because I could be surrounded
By people yet still feel alone.
People can give me all their love
Yet they do not see the tears I cry.
I can be stable and be well grounded
Yet the dirt and every single stone
Beneath my feet may give and no
One would care. Give up your fears,
But how can I trust everyone when
They give me no reason to be free?
Maybe I am afraid of losing my glow
And to be dull. It is losing the years
I spent building myself with the pen
In my grasp. I am afraid of losing me.
Written by eswaller
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Thank you everyone for participating in the competition. The trophy goes to Razzerleaf for the poem Becoming Death. The second place goes to Adagio for the poem Antiquities of Lost Fears and third place goes to Kinkpoet for the poem Terrorism. Thank you so much for being with me. See you all in my next competition.
