Poetry competition CLOSED 22nd April 2012 5:08pm
WINNER
Karrabear (Question)
Karrabear (Question)
RUNNER-UP:
beautiful_accident
Hope Is...
I Dream Awake
When I walk
I sleep
I recall your voice
I try to keep
its talk
so sweet
I just can't wait
to meet
the apple maid
in the valley
of an offbeat
to stray
down your one way
street
come what may
we can stand elite
there is no pay
its all for free
I'm awake
in our dream to be
I'm your cake
your the cream
of me
the world may quake
but you'll not shake me
others can take their
fakery
theres a sky of rouge
in eternity
love light pools
on a solar kissed tree
a sunset prism
rains its colourful glee
magical dust covers
you and me
so place some trust
in our possibility .
When I walk
I sleep
I recall your voice
I try to keep
its talk
so sweet
I just can't wait
to meet
the apple maid
in the valley
of an offbeat
to stray
down your one way
street
come what may
we can stand elite
there is no pay
its all for free
I'm awake
in our dream to be
I'm your cake
your the cream
of me
the world may quake
but you'll not shake me
others can take their
fakery
theres a sky of rouge
in eternity
love light pools
on a solar kissed tree
a sunset prism
rains its colourful glee
magical dust covers
you and me
so place some trust
in our possibility .
I’d say hope is rather comical,
it never did much for me.
One fleeting ray of light,
in a world filled with greed.
People hand it out falsely,
like food stamps and trends.
I encourage you not to try it,
it gets crushed in the end.
But... I’m a hypocrite.
it never did much for me.
One fleeting ray of light,
in a world filled with greed.
People hand it out falsely,
like food stamps and trends.
I encourage you not to try it,
it gets crushed in the end.
But... I’m a hypocrite.
Hope (A Closed Up Wound) (Day 68)
I remember when I did this one.
It was like I was in a trance.
My lover asleep on my bed.
And I don't know why I did it...
Maybe because I wanted to bleed.
Maybe because I wanted his attention.
Maybe because I just wanted the pain.
I do not know the reason why...
The razor was on the other side of the room.
And I remember sitting on my mother's bed,
and the slice-- It must've woke my from my trance.
Because when I looked down and so the split open wound,
blood filling it up and sliding down my arm.
I started to cry because it was the scariest time I had ever cut.
It was scary because it was so large, and it bled so much.
I didn't know if it would stop.
My love awoke to my cries.
And I remember that I told him that I didn't remembering hurting myself.
When I did remember perfectly well.
I lied to him.
But then told the truth, and when he asked why I did it?
I told him I didn't know.
I felt like a freak.
Like I needed to be put away.
Like I needed to be drugged up on medication.
Or put in a nuthouse.
That's what I needed, that's what I thought.
But now I look down at my pale arms and I see no more new scars.
And that one cut has closed up.
It has healed, but left behind a scar as a reminder.
That I will never forget the past.
Which is the way I like it.
I like my scars.
The one from my freshman year that first landed me in the ER.
The ones following my grandfather dying.
The heart on my leg, and the words on my thighs.
The scars on my arms.
The superficial, the slightly deeper one.
The ones that had me scared to death.
Though right now I am very glad that I am not dead.
I was falling apart.
Made of cuts, wounds, and scars all over my body.
But still I feel it eveytime he holds me,
caresses my body making me feel beautiful.
It helps me get up and smile at the girl in the mirror.
And even when I feel I'm falling apart again,
like I'm ready to give up.
I do not raise another blade to flesh.
Because now I have hope.
He gave me that hope.
And I have made myself believe,
I can get better.
Because no matter what maybe be left inside of the Pandora's box.
There is indeed hope in the world.
Because I'm still alive.
That's all that hope that I need.
I remember when I did this one.
It was like I was in a trance.
My lover asleep on my bed.
And I don't know why I did it...
Maybe because I wanted to bleed.
Maybe because I wanted his attention.
Maybe because I just wanted the pain.
I do not know the reason why...
The razor was on the other side of the room.
And I remember sitting on my mother's bed,
and the slice-- It must've woke my from my trance.
Because when I looked down and so the split open wound,
blood filling it up and sliding down my arm.
I started to cry because it was the scariest time I had ever cut.
It was scary because it was so large, and it bled so much.
I didn't know if it would stop.
My love awoke to my cries.
And I remember that I told him that I didn't remembering hurting myself.
When I did remember perfectly well.
I lied to him.
But then told the truth, and when he asked why I did it?
I told him I didn't know.
I felt like a freak.
Like I needed to be put away.
Like I needed to be drugged up on medication.
Or put in a nuthouse.
That's what I needed, that's what I thought.
But now I look down at my pale arms and I see no more new scars.
And that one cut has closed up.
It has healed, but left behind a scar as a reminder.
That I will never forget the past.
Which is the way I like it.
I like my scars.
The one from my freshman year that first landed me in the ER.
The ones following my grandfather dying.
The heart on my leg, and the words on my thighs.
The scars on my arms.
The superficial, the slightly deeper one.
The ones that had me scared to death.
Though right now I am very glad that I am not dead.
I was falling apart.
Made of cuts, wounds, and scars all over my body.
But still I feel it eveytime he holds me,
caresses my body making me feel beautiful.
It helps me get up and smile at the girl in the mirror.
And even when I feel I'm falling apart again,
like I'm ready to give up.
I do not raise another blade to flesh.
Because now I have hope.
He gave me that hope.
And I have made myself believe,
I can get better.
Because no matter what maybe be left inside of the Pandora's box.
There is indeed hope in the world.
Because I'm still alive.
That's all that hope that I need.
Anonymous
[font=Verdana]Hope is a dream I once had
about a can of diet coke just beyond my reach.
I lay on my side and extended an arm,
but the sugarless goodness remained in the can.
about a can of diet coke just beyond my reach.
I lay on my side and extended an arm,
but the sugarless goodness remained in the can.
Hope is...
...A delusion,
In this new world order.
It is a bait,
Those with devils use.
They know man is quick to hope,
He shuts his eyes,
And turns away from a painful truth,
To listen to the sweet songs of hope,
Till she transforms him into a beast.
...A delusion,
In this new world order.
It is a bait,
Those with devils use.
They know man is quick to hope,
He shuts his eyes,
And turns away from a painful truth,
To listen to the sweet songs of hope,
Till she transforms him into a beast.
The reflection she sees
is youthful in appearance
sharpen with her minds eye
but she is hopeful that the winkles
around her eyes and mouth are hidden
with the thick makeup she applies.
She’s hopeful he doesn’t notice
Hopeful he doesn’t see
That she’s his mother's age indeed.
is youthful in appearance
sharpen with her minds eye
but she is hopeful that the winkles
around her eyes and mouth are hidden
with the thick makeup she applies.
She’s hopeful he doesn’t notice
Hopeful he doesn’t see
That she’s his mother's age indeed.
Its elusive
like water flowing through
your hand or grasping at air,
you can’t identify it or isolate it
you can’t comprehend it
or define it but you
continually try to pursue it
to contain it but
HOPE is a mysterious creature forever
wild
like water flowing through
your hand or grasping at air,
you can’t identify it or isolate it
you can’t comprehend it
or define it but you
continually try to pursue it
to contain it but
HOPE is a mysterious creature forever
wild
Anonymous
Hope: a four letter word at best
until adding the ‘s’
then you’ve multiplied the times
despair creeps into the mind
to be beaten like a dead horse
which you can’t do, of course
but now it’s over, put it to bed
tuck it in and tack on the –ed!
until adding the ‘s’
then you’ve multiplied the times
despair creeps into the mind
to be beaten like a dead horse
which you can’t do, of course
but now it’s over, put it to bed
tuck it in and tack on the –ed!
