Poetry competition CLOSED 19th June 2024 10:20pm
WINNER
Northern_Soul
Northern_Soul
RUNNER-UP:
Grace
Tell me about your morning
Poetry Contest Description
Poetry or prose about a morning you've had. Good or bad.
Tell me about your morning. Good, bad, boring, busy, crazy... whatever it is, I want to know.
Thanks to Ahavati for prompting me to make this comp, based on my poem 7:43am
~7:43am~
4:49am
I woke up too early
couldn't get back to sleep
cause I lost my PJ pants
during the night
and couldn't be bothered
to get up and try and find them
lost between the bed sheets and the floor
5:56am
Get body slammed
by my four year old
with the cries of
"Mummy wake up"
before he gets tangled
on his way out of
his own PJs
and pisses on the carpet
cause it was easier
for him to piss in an
over-full nappy
than make it to the toilet
6:02am
Why does the kettle
always take so long to fucking boil
it's cold and all my socks
are in the dryer on the other side
of the house
so it's hot coffee and cold toes
before I drag my blankets
to the couch
7:24am
Kiddo dropped the new heater
and now it tings and smells
like burning metal
and I'm screaming about
new things and money
and how I can't have
fucking anything nice
while he looks at me
going "no screaming"
cause all he wanted to do
was fiddle with the heater knobs
and all I want is to not be cold
and for anything to last
more than a week
before succumbing to
curious hands that can't understand
that we're supposed to look
with eyes not hands
7:29am
I have completely lost the calm
I didn't have to begin with
and I'm hunting down my meds
that I've somehow misplaced
and can't find in the chaos
of the kitchen
And I wonder if this is what
my mother feels like
when she wakes up
and breaks the dishes
But that's not relevant
cause if I don't find these meds
I'm gonna punch a wall
a window
my fucking self
I don't even know
as I tear apart the pantry
edging a rage filled panic attack
that's gonna have me
crying on the floor
in 3...2...
found them
7:43
Dose myself
and pray I don't break something
before this medication kicks in
Is it too late
to turn this day around?
1000 words max, please. No novellas.
1 entry per person.
2 weeks.
No erotica.
Have fun
Thanks to Ahavati for prompting me to make this comp, based on my poem 7:43am
~7:43am~
4:49am
I woke up too early
couldn't get back to sleep
cause I lost my PJ pants
during the night
and couldn't be bothered
to get up and try and find them
lost between the bed sheets and the floor
5:56am
Get body slammed
by my four year old
with the cries of
"Mummy wake up"
before he gets tangled
on his way out of
his own PJs
and pisses on the carpet
cause it was easier
for him to piss in an
over-full nappy
than make it to the toilet
6:02am
Why does the kettle
always take so long to fucking boil
it's cold and all my socks
are in the dryer on the other side
of the house
so it's hot coffee and cold toes
before I drag my blankets
to the couch
7:24am
Kiddo dropped the new heater
and now it tings and smells
like burning metal
and I'm screaming about
new things and money
and how I can't have
fucking anything nice
while he looks at me
going "no screaming"
cause all he wanted to do
was fiddle with the heater knobs
and all I want is to not be cold
and for anything to last
more than a week
before succumbing to
curious hands that can't understand
that we're supposed to look
with eyes not hands
7:29am
I have completely lost the calm
I didn't have to begin with
and I'm hunting down my meds
that I've somehow misplaced
and can't find in the chaos
of the kitchen
And I wonder if this is what
my mother feels like
when she wakes up
and breaks the dishes
But that's not relevant
cause if I don't find these meds
I'm gonna punch a wall
a window
my fucking self
I don't even know
as I tear apart the pantry
edging a rage filled panic attack
that's gonna have me
crying on the floor
in 3...2...
found them
7:43
Dose myself
and pray I don't break something
before this medication kicks in
Is it too late
to turn this day around?
1000 words max, please. No novellas.
1 entry per person.
2 weeks.
No erotica.
Have fun
Bad Rooster
Cock-A-Doodle-Doo
Yes I still remember you
Every morning before the sun
I hope you're ready to run
Because your head is mine
No more annoying sunrise
I don't want to know the time
Please stop this hate crime
Deep inside you know you're wrong
Silence is where you don't belong
No more Cock-A-Doodle-Dooing song
Why not chill and smoke a bong?
Cock-A-Doodle-Doo
Yes I still remember you
Every morning before the sun
I hope you're ready to run
Yes I still remember you
Every morning before the sun
I hope you're ready to run
Because your head is mine
No more annoying sunrise
I don't want to know the time
Please stop this hate crime
Deep inside you know you're wrong
Silence is where you don't belong
No more Cock-A-Doodle-Dooing song
Why not chill and smoke a bong?
Cock-A-Doodle-Doo
Yes I still remember you
Every morning before the sun
I hope you're ready to run
Written by AfterSexDilemma
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(#1) Bright Blue Walls
‘Hey.. what are you after?’ She says
and I tell her who I’m here to see
as she buzzes me into the building
she’s a carbon copy of me
septum ring, awkwardly dressed
stick in her right hand
as we catch the lift together
stand cramped in an oblong box
as a door slides open
releasing us out into the world.
The place is like Fort Knox
as we talk through more intercoms
and it makes sense when I think
about the clientele
all the battered souls of the world
reaching for their last shred of hope.
She makes me tea in a paper cup
while I read framed quotes
about worth and beauty
and I wonder if that’s me at all
as lift bitch calls me through
she’s my counsellor now
introduces herself
pulls her baggy top down
over her threadbare skirt
explains about confidentiality
asks what I want from the session
and I don’t know in truth
I don’t know why I’m here
in these bright, blue walls
but I know I want it to end
the noise in my head
how it’s so fucking loud
thinking of 15 years ago
as if it’s still fresh
every thought
every wound
every word.
We talk for a while
I tell her what happened
and I feel it rise
that strange darkness
I push down into myself
to feel safe
because
I don’t want to let it out
to wreak havoc on myself
to Godzilla a fucking town.
I note details of that quiet room
a coaster with a fern leaf
a box of Kleenex
that plant that seems to exist
in all therapy rooms such as this
as if it’s calming
but it’s not calming
it’s crooked
with decaying edges
and in need of love.
Maybe it angered me
because I saw myself there
a plant
a buried root system
confined to a large pot
in a hot room
talking about my
fucking inability
to stand straight
and it comes out of me
pours out of me like a dam
that broke after an epic storm
this violent version of love
the guilt I feel
it goes on
and on
and on.
When the session ends
I reverse Fort Knox
the oblong box
the buzzing of a door
sit in a cafe
with an oat milk hot chocolate
watch people float down the street
without memories
working with purpose
with meaning
must be nice
Written by Northern_Soul
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Morning Rain
Morning rain on the darkened pane
sliding off my memories
of those lonely yesteryears
my remembrance
as rain washing off dirt
encrusted on perceived love
twisted in trust and faith
there would be other rainy mornings
when tears mingled with the showers
to land and invigorate the grass
to melt hardened resolves
as frost on a summer day
breathing on not wanting to know
to feel to see to speak
enforced tranquility of aloneness
unfeeling
living was merely breathing
then Words like little raindrops
fell one by one on a dead soul
the lifeless seed quivered
growth of hope on blackened
bulb, stubs of faith appeared
“It is raining this morning, My Angel!”
“That’s good, My Love, Rain cools…”
sliding off my memories
of those lonely yesteryears
my remembrance
as rain washing off dirt
encrusted on perceived love
twisted in trust and faith
there would be other rainy mornings
when tears mingled with the showers
to land and invigorate the grass
to melt hardened resolves
as frost on a summer day
breathing on not wanting to know
to feel to see to speak
enforced tranquility of aloneness
unfeeling
living was merely breathing
then Words like little raindrops
fell one by one on a dead soul
the lifeless seed quivered
growth of hope on blackened
bulb, stubs of faith appeared
“It is raining this morning, My Angel!”
“That’s good, My Love, Rain cools…”
Written by Grace
(IDryad)
Go To Page
Related submission no longer exists.
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Mornings
I wonder what its like
To wake up looking forward to what a new day brings
To feel refreshed and ready to take on the world
Seeing the sun shining around the edges of the blackout curtains as a beacon of hope
Instead of a stark reminder of having to push through another day
Another day
Of surviving rather than living
Of an unrelenting desire to stop being
Fighting not to give in to what is wanted the most
Every fucking second
The battle never stops
A war raging inside
While navigating through the monotony and playing a role
Hiding what lies right beneath the surface
No one knows
How Im barely holding on
How thin that line is between the person standing before them flashing a pained smile
And the one that is being lowered into the ground, no longer fighting for a cause that he doesn't believe in
To wake up looking forward to what a new day brings
To feel refreshed and ready to take on the world
Seeing the sun shining around the edges of the blackout curtains as a beacon of hope
Instead of a stark reminder of having to push through another day
Another day
Of surviving rather than living
Of an unrelenting desire to stop being
Fighting not to give in to what is wanted the most
Every fucking second
The battle never stops
A war raging inside
While navigating through the monotony and playing a role
Hiding what lies right beneath the surface
No one knows
How Im barely holding on
How thin that line is between the person standing before them flashing a pained smile
And the one that is being lowered into the ground, no longer fighting for a cause that he doesn't believe in
Written by The_Darkness_Insid
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I hope this one is acceptable. Its not a specific morning but most of my mornings start like this. If not, let me know and Ill remove it.
Monday Morning
I woke up before dawn in a confused state of mind
And I stayed awake until daylight
It was a Monday morning and I had nothing to do
I couldn't cope with the trials of life anymore
Contentious people kept looking for trouble
I wanted to find happiness and serenity even for a day
So I left home in a hurry for a long walk
It was the first time I forgot to wear a mask
I bought one from a female vendor on the roadside
My shadow was right under my feet
I wasn't sure where I was going,
But I had to go somewhere to meditate
I was walking aimlessly in the hot sun
Lots of vehicles drove past me along the way
I walked a few miles until I ended up at the park
There were many settings from which to choose
I sat on a hard bench near the walkway
A strong cool wind was blowing from the east
The limbs of the trees were shaking
I relaxed in the shade of the Bauhinia x Blakeana
A number of people were in the park
Some were sitting by themselves
Others were sitting in twos and in groups
Children were playing everywhere
And there was a peaceful atmosphere
The lawn was covered with beautiful crabgrass
Oil palms were waving in the wind
I felt like writing something while I was there
And I wrote this poem about my experience
I spent exactly four hours in the park
The time slipped away faster than I expected
I didn't intend to leave the location so soon,
But I left when I received a phone call from someone
And I stayed awake until daylight
It was a Monday morning and I had nothing to do
I couldn't cope with the trials of life anymore
Contentious people kept looking for trouble
I wanted to find happiness and serenity even for a day
So I left home in a hurry for a long walk
It was the first time I forgot to wear a mask
I bought one from a female vendor on the roadside
My shadow was right under my feet
I wasn't sure where I was going,
But I had to go somewhere to meditate
I was walking aimlessly in the hot sun
Lots of vehicles drove past me along the way
I walked a few miles until I ended up at the park
There were many settings from which to choose
I sat on a hard bench near the walkway
A strong cool wind was blowing from the east
The limbs of the trees were shaking
I relaxed in the shade of the Bauhinia x Blakeana
A number of people were in the park
Some were sitting by themselves
Others were sitting in twos and in groups
Children were playing everywhere
And there was a peaceful atmosphere
The lawn was covered with beautiful crabgrass
Oil palms were waving in the wind
I felt like writing something while I was there
And I wrote this poem about my experience
I spent exactly four hours in the park
The time slipped away faster than I expected
I didn't intend to leave the location so soon,
But I left when I received a phone call from someone
Written by PittinixDesigns
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