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Poetry competition CLOSED 8th January 2018 8:27am
WINNER
Foxface
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The Room

poet Anonymous

Poetry Contest

You wake up disorientated, in a room with just a bed and a locked door.
Write about how you got into the room as your memories start returning, how you feel, why you’re there, be as creative/twisted/erotic/disturbing/happy as you like, it can be any type of poem.

One entry per person, 2 weeks to enter.

poet
drone
Dangerous Mind
Greece
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Joined 3rd Sep 2011
Forum Posts: 424

Looking down
from the corner
of a near dark
locked  
abandoned room
two people
and a wooden bed
one tied
trembling in fear
the other
chuckling
caressing  a blade
confused I am
a feeling of dread  
for I know
one is me
but I don't know  
which  

poet
MadameLavender
Guardian of Shadows
United States
61awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 17th Feb 2013
Forum Posts: 4429

The Violent Room


I remember now,
glass,
metal,
the slice of puncture,
impact—

Silence.

I had the wheel.
So did the drunk behind us
on the ice.

We spun like windmills
chasing snow falling from gray skies.

A glance at my beloved child,
and my heart said I would take her place, in death.

God listened and agreed.

I throw off the bedding,
healed from the passage—
the Violent Room, having done its job
once more,
with obscene endings.

The door opens to the fields, where
I walk in forgiveness,
leaving the Room for the next
to forget and to remember.

poet
Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 9th Nov 2015
Forum Posts: 3603

HIM

The ebb of evening
wrapped in its midnight,  
was a friend to me, even in my crib.
 
But a night light
casting shadows
stretched across the floor    
 
to a locked door now cracked open,
an unseen stranger
hiding from me there

watching, unblinking
doing things
I couldn't see,

but I could hear
his raspy breath,
the shuffling sounds he made.
 
For it's the little ones
who cannot name it,
but their minds fit in between,    
 
between the ribs where I sat
crouched looking out,
waiting... and knowing.

poet
SenpaiDERE
Strange Creature
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Joined 10th Dec 2017
Forum Posts: 11

Mess Them Up

Whatever I do
They always commented
"It's messed up"

Whatever I say
They always commented
"It's messed up"

Whatever I see
They always commented
"It's messed up"

Whatever I hear
They always commented
"It's messed up"

Whatever I feel
They always commented
"It's messed up"

Well I'm been holding this anger for long
but I guess it's messed up
so there's no excuses to mess them up
Written by SenpaiDERE
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poet
cloventongue89
Nathaniel Peter
Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 18th Sep 2017
Forum Posts: 360

No Recall For Humanity

I rest on a cot
In a bed that's known a thousand patients
Making love to infirmity
Identified by an ailment, I have no name
I wake up slumbering
Painting these white walls with my delusions of significance
Trapped behind a door
A world unaware
Kept from being a danger to myself
With nothing to spare me theatric pychiatrics
Routine to induce pseudo recovery
A pill to pacify a voice
And curb my eye's appetite for imagination
Nothing more real than my perpetual hallucination
Friends named invisible for a consensus of sight with expectations fixed
Beholding the lies of normalcy
Standards of absolutes contrived of relative perceptions
Preaching medicine like a gospel for dead faith
You see an illness before you see a man
How do you humanize a laboratory specimen?
Wellness is the cheese in a maze prison
Blind fixation on a self made light
Invisible plagues
Herding mental cattle into pharmaceutical processing
Bars on these windows of the soul
No escape from the unmanned room of my insanity
Characterized by defects
Lock me away like a government authorized shut in
Observatory intrigue
One moment a petting zoo
The next, a torture chamber
Like BDSM with straight jackets
Exploited means to stroke the egos of white coats and appease the purpose of a PHD
A modern ark for conspirator floods
A colorless sky of rain without the light to spark a bow through the flint of precipitation
Accursed by the promise of unrelenting sorrow
Disappointment like a vow that goes unspoken but is truest of our hearts
What is god but the illusion of good maintained in the face of the ways we feel let down?
Written by cloventongue89 (Nathaniel Peter)
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poet Anonymous

Some amazingly creative entries so far, thank you ladies and gentlemen for your participation!

poet
QuinnARichardson
Thought Provoker
United States
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Joined 19th Dec 2017
Forum Posts: 82

Behind the Locked Door

He stood over the woman touching her face
She awakened from the start
Clothes had been taken off, his cock was standing hard as her pulse began to race.
 
"Don't be afraid, baby girl," he said
She looked around the room darkness engulfing her  
He held her wrists, teasing her delicious mouth as she lay in the bed.
 
Memories came flooding back of the
night before
Too much alcohol making her disoriented  
She knew the man's intentions because of the locked door.
 
He gently laid her back down
Sucking on her breasts until she moaned
He travelled down her body til the source of her wetness he found.  
 
She gasped as he licked and sucked
Her clit exploded in his face
He groaned as his fingers got inside of her softness, played, and fucked.
 
Finally,  without any more waiting
His cock found the same softness as his
fingers had
Her mind racing as he continued stimulating.  
 
Behind the locked door, the couple
kissed and played,  fucked and loved  
The man knew her body so very well
And she knew his body as he was her beloved.
Written by QuinnARichardson
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poet
Grace
Idryad
Guardian of Shadows
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Joined 25th Aug 2011
Forum Posts: 13272

withdrawn

poet
snugglebuck
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 3rd Feb 2014
Forum Posts: 1329

http://i1290.photobucket.com/albums/b536/1willybugger/prison%202_zpsot8tk74t.png

DREAM ESCAPE

Riding upon my galloping horse
I can feel the breeze upon my face
I could never feel so free
Then, with a startle I awake
Upon a hard prison bed
Surrounded by four gray walls
Locked within behind a steel door

For a moment I thought my dream was a reality
For a living nightmare is my actuality

poet
dark_horizons
Lost Thinker
United States
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Joined 27th Dec 2017
Forum Posts: 5

        The Neverending Pain

Somehow I am floating, looking down at myself
I am scared, trembling, in the fetal position
Trying to hide under a bed frame with no mattress or box spring
So it is useless

I notice that there is a window I can see out of
But everything is in black and white
There is a river with a wooden bridge crossing it
But the bridge is in flames

Then I remember why I am so scared
It is because it is coming for me ..... again

poet
archetype23
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 5th Oct 2013
Forum Posts: 3631

DOLLAR NOTES

Room and board and bored boarded windows
half dead, her and I tied to the bed
boarded up windows down in the cellar
We both broke free from the ropes of dead hopes
She ran and I yell and I tried to tell her
before she was caught again, before he could sell her
sought again, caught again, I tried to tell her
before he could resell her, I tried to tell her........
She runs down the hall as I holler and hollar
I call her and call her still wearing the collar
I follow her watching the awaiting fall of her
As she runs towards the fanatic maniac crack addict
waiting for her in the cracks in the attic
Waiting for her........
Screaming out dollar notes, fantastically clear
into her seemingly plastic doll ear
closer and closer, but never quite near
I scream in a seemingly silent voice she can't hear
emphatic static as she flails erratic
madness for what is awaiting for her
 Buzzed-up answers screaming into muffled
 muzzled reverberations of newborn revelations
emerging from a fuzzy puzzle....
as she runs up towards  a new level
of tortured orchids of hoards singing
in and within out-of-tune chords bringing
writhing in pain as a pretty blood stain spreads
slowly out across the shit-stained bed instead
Like bright blooming petals of the newly born dead
.....and......and..... ahead......violence......
......and......and.....dead........silence........
    Six cents in a sick sense of sixth sense
    I tried to tell her, to write her a note
as we were tied to the bed without hope
....with a rope around our throat....
Broke-up and broken and broke.....
I gave her a few cents, and wrote her out a dollar note
It all made sense, until I awoke
Written by archetype23
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poet
Foxface
Lost Thinker
United States
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Joined 2nd Dec 2017
Forum Posts: 35

Pixie

When water is cold
It becomes a reflection
Of all shades of light

It started the night I was fourteen,
His thin T-shirt, my black boots
On the rooftop above the flashing city
Fingers the color of powdery soot
Wrists covered in mud and scars
The boy I thought I loved toking
Daydreaming far above in the stars
Half dozing and half smoking
It kissed me
And my ability to see color without it shattered

Chemicals had already been curled in my mind
And I realized I was born
From sadness and destruction intertwined
An addictive personality, mental illnesses to mourn
But when my heart stuttered in the dawn
Light resonating from within my pale veins
It's softness seduced me like a black swan
Bittersweetness seeping from it like a beckoning hurricane
He pulled out a mirror
And asked for fire

It's calling, it's calling, it's always calling
Murmuring, whispering, screaming
My skin, my eyes, my life was scratched raw
Nothing was real or at all like it seemed
I lived to forget, I breathed to fall into the highs
Self destructing spark by spark
Day by day, I felt my heart and mind crystallize
And the light in my eyes finally went dark
The sunset had never
Been so horrifying, morbid, and gruesome

The world was black and white,
Stinging and condescending
Nothing but artificial, blinking lights
And a silence that never ascended
Demons clawed at my eyelashes
And the doctors tore at my mind
Stuck with white walls, a bed, a living lie
I was the only one that knew everyone else was blind
They told me
I was a danger to myself
That it was better
To be locked away

I told them
I rather be dying
Than never happy
Written by Foxface
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poet
gardenlover
Fire of Insight
United Kingdom
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Joined 19th Aug 2012
Forum Posts: 560

The Room


Where am I ?
Who is this women?

The walls are dark there is no light
No sound echos round the room

Her naked body caresses mine
Her mouth seeks my flaccid member.

I enter her as she mounts,
She rides me like a jockey.

With sensuous and  thrusting strokes,
The climax comes  too soon

I am confused, I cannot see.
She is no longer in the bed;
Was she real , do I know her?

Gradually  there is light
The walls  and window are like mine
Is this bed the one I own?

Awake; I realise that I have been dreaming
Will I ever know her again?

poet
eswaller
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 22nd Dec 2015
Forum Posts: 390

In This Dark Room

The dark room begins swaying and tilting.
How the hell did I get here? Maybe I had too
Many shots and drinks from the night before.
I remember your gaze, burning and wilting
Something deep within my fiery soul. You
And me finally all alone with a locked door.
No one was around to watch. I really wanted
To take you home, but we never got that far
As your hands wandered all over me and my
Body. I could not breathe. You have a haunted
Presence that I cannot shake off. Every scar
Is hidden away. We cannot see the blue sky
Inside the darkness anymore. I wish I could
Retain the color of your eyes before the lights
Went out and when our clothes slowly began
Disappearing. I want to recall all of the good
And clear memories. We all have dark nights
And shadows, but you are always the same man
Within these four walls. Right here is where we
Made a lifetime of moments and memories. No
Truer words spoken than in a room that holds
Our secrets closely. A sacred place that will see
More to come. No sunlight, but we will grow.
In time everything becomes beautiful and unfolds.
Written by eswaller
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