Poetry competition CLOSED 25th January 2018 4:53pm
WINNER
Anonymous
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RUNNER-UP: AtoMikbomb

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CONFABULATION

UbiquitousVoid
. . . . . . . . .
Thought Provoker
United States 11awards
Joined 11th Sep 2016
Forum Posts: 245

Poetry Contest

In psychiatry, confabulation is a term used to describe the recollection of a false occurence due to lost or fragmented memory. Many have experienced this phenomenon, and most refer to it as 'The Mandela Effect'.
This may be a difficult topic for some, but I challenge you to write a poem describing an experience you have had with this, describe how it made you feel. As always, it can be written in any style you so desire.

- Two weeks. I may extend later on.
- Must be a NEW write.
- One submission per poet.
- No length requirements or restrictions.
- I will select the winner and runner-up.
- No explicit content or vulgarities, please.
- Can be based on personal experience, third-party or entirely fiction.

poet Anonymous

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UbiquitousVoid
. . . . . . . . .
Thought Provoker
United States 11awards
Joined 11th Sep 2016
Forum Posts: 245

Thank you for the first entry cloventongue, a great start to this competition.

Foxface
Aewyrn
Lost Thinker
United States 7awards
Joined 2nd Dec 2017
Forum Posts: 35

Nightmare

It was one of those dark nights
That changed me, but rather than a fragment
It altered my whole sense of being  
Confusion, puzzlement
As I hit replay on the memory once more,
 
I had planned to go out with only my friends
The two people I nearly trusted with my life  
But then he decided to come along  
The boy I thought I loved,  
Who everyone warned about,
The cheater, the liar, the troublemaker  
 
I argued,
Told them it would go badly,  
And they brushed me off
 
So at Ice Cream Hill  
We met at midnight  
Drinking, chugging, shouting, laughing
Wandering through the small town's empty streets  
 
Then the night ended, and he decided to walk me  
Home  
He climbed in through my window  
Drunk as me, gazing intensely
As I handed him a cigarette, lighting my own
 
Then his hand fisted in my hair
And he dragged me underneath him as the world  
Spun, twisted, nausea forming in my stomach
Slurred words leaving my lips,
"Wait,"
 
Hand in my jeans, under my shirt,  
His lips crushing mine  
Undressing me, alarms going off in my ears, ringing  
My father slept in the room next to mine, and fear  
Of being too loud  
Stitched my words to silence  
 
Panic, fear, trying to fight his touch off  
As he pinned me down, putting his palm  
Over my mouth and giving me no choice  
As he opened my legs,  
Placed his elbows above my shoulders  
And moved  
 
I recall the tears, the pain, the agony  
Nothing I had ever experienced could mimic
That night in June, as others slept
And the crickets chirped  
And blood stained the sheets underneath me
 
Eventually, my cries of pain were heard, and the boy hid
As my father opened the door
And as tears trekked down my face  
I whispered to him I had a nightmare  
Too afraid to get in trouble, to feel his fists  
Yet afraid to close the door  
 
But eventually, my both hero and fear
Went back to bed  
And so did I
 
Changing in gym, everyone gasping and staring  
At the horrific bruises touching nearly every  
Centimeter  
Of my body  
The whispers at school,  
The loss of friends due to their thinking I lied,  
My father telling me I acted differently
And everything around me  
Seeming to shatter, everything I had built  
Since I fell to the bottom
Everyone telling me,
"He was drunk too so it didn't count,"
"Are you sure?"
"If you didn't say no, it wasn't rape."
"Are you sure?  
"That's just boys."
"Are you sure?"
 
Are you sure?
Are you sure?
Are you sure?
 
I never was,
And perhaps I never will be,
For memories fragment
And our perspectives and emotions
Twist them
But whenever I try to accept it
Something tugs at my heart
And I know deep down,
Even if I don't remember perfectly,
His fingerprints bruised my memory
Just as they did my thighs
Written by Foxface (Aewyrn)
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UbiquitousVoid
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Thought Provoker
United States 11awards
Joined 11th Sep 2016
Forum Posts: 245

Powerful write, Foxface. Thank you for attending.

wallyroo92
Tyrant of Words
United States 147awards
Joined 11th July 2012
Forum Posts: 1792

False Memory

I could’ve sworn I’ve been here before,
This isn’t déjà vu, I know I’ve seen your face,
Or is it a false memory? My alternative reality,
Angel from my dream, my saving grace.

Slowly I begin to feel the nostalgia sink in,
That long forgotten longing that never existed,
It’s a feeling I resisted or I thought I had fought,
But my mind is becoming tangled and twisted.

I know I have said these words before and swore,
That I would never feel this way again but then,
I always felt I knew but now this place is new,
I thought I’d feel like this way until the very end.

But now you’re telling me this is not real,
That the truth is tilted from what I actually see,
I cannot recall the time I lost touch with it all,
Maybe I’m just remembering my fantasy.

This hysteria, is exciting and a little mysterious,
The way I reminisce about this provoking abyss,
The caverns of my mind are losing track of time,
And space and place and everything gone amiss.

So I go back and read the verses feeling so certain,
That I’m not making up the emotion again and again,
But I can’t find them, it seems they’ve all disappeared,
Like lost pages of a book written, torn, never penned.

But I know I’ve been here before, I’ve seen your face,
This isn’t déjà vu, angel from my dream, my saving grace.

eswaller
Dangerous Mind
United States 30awards
Joined 22nd Dec 2015
Forum Posts: 752

False Memories

I could have sworn to have been here before.
The worry etched across your face as you
Ask, “Are you okay?” Memories that swirl
And tilt all by themselves. My eyes, too sore
From rubbing them while really wanting to
Know if this is all real. Fragments that twirl
Around themselves. It is like slipping into a
Coma, awakening to the sun being too bright
And cheerful. That sky that is too blue and
Those clouds melting like cotton candy. The
Memories that should really feel downright
True, but feel false and feel like a backhand
To the face. I have already been giving in
To this fake illusion. I wish I could silence,
Feed and give the devil what he really wants,
But he already won, replacing my angel with sin.
He has rewritten and stood against my defiance,
But I will try not to give in to all he haunts.  
Written by eswaller
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okanna93
MJWells93
Lost Thinker
United States 1awards
Joined 16th Aug 2017
Forum Posts: 33

Father that Was Never There

Hello? Are you there?
Where did you go?
Why can't I see you? Why can't I feel you?
I miss you even though I never knew you

I hear rumors
I tell stories
Who knows if any of it is true

I have an image of you deep in my brain
Is that not real too?

I think about you often
I wonder what happened to you
Did you ever try to find me?

I told them I wouldn't want to meet you if I had the chance
too much pain, too much emotion
I could never handle the rejection
You couldn't handle your own pain

I am mad at you
I miss you
Did you even know my name?
I know yours only from what I was told

Is it true you took another man's life?
Did it bother you when he took his last breath?

The last time I thought about you was last night
most of my thoughts of you come at night
I cannot dream of you
I have no memory to hold on to

did you want me? Did you care?
I was alone as an orphan without a home
Did you know?
If you did what would you have done?

Now you are dead
alive no more
Just skin and bones in the cold hard ground
Written by okanna93 (MJWells93)
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runaway-mindtrain
Dangerous Mind
United States 8awards
Joined 30th July 2017
Forum Posts: 758

syncromystery

A ten dimension global play, sacred and profane polarity
With a crossfire wit that is fuguein' on a fantasy
"To know their inner vengeance", is but an ironic laugh
Their ship put to sail with their thoughts now blown aft...

An annoyance tax placed on the wages of sinning
Forms a singular duplicity within a triangular ending
A double corroborated mental intake confusion
With a passive heart valve relates a duel infusion...

A Yonic loop of forgotten past selfishly encased
Leading then to your end. as yourself foolishly chased
A carriage ride to the other side, that doesn't spare the whip
A soul race on the hidden slide, reborn disembodied trip...

In bound history... H-bomb antiquity...

A old effort in vain of wiping, the mental mainframe
With the innocent bait for staging, the evil shell game
Being even with your odd time, so your beat finds the one
And catch the drift if you can, so we sail into the sun...

The gardener doesn't live in the garden...

We never notice anything, in the present shtick
As they sling crazy ideas, like an old load of bricks..

Sufi's whirling dervish spinning, hand signs in action
Show a phoenix from the ashes of failures abstraction
Vowel chanting mystics creating music made spirits
Inferno flame is drawn to last, the demonic made to fear it...

Mentally projected figures shining life through 12 rooms
A zodiacal spirit projector with an entheogenic zoom
All across the Platonic year, we still feel the center wobble
By our sun and twin!.. a spacetime warping sibling squabble...

As a prodigal star now bleeds, the spiritual cup of red wine
A Columbia faction made the old truth into a new false line
In the womb of the mother earth sits the nature of thought
Through the seed of the sun god, our idea is then wrought...

The fearful heart dies of terror.. instead of beating... makes a fit
The soulful mind travels never.. in place of spacing... time just sits
With the objective eyeball of God's view, we see a brilliant incision
Bright of the sun through the window, our time framed in a vision...[]
Written by runaway-mindtrain
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UbiquitousVoid
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Thought Provoker
United States 11awards
Joined 11th Sep 2016
Forum Posts: 245

Excellent entries so far, thank you all for participating.

Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
Tyrant of Words
United States 154awards
Joined 9th Nov 2015
Forum Posts: 5134

deleted

poet Anonymous

Related submission no longer exists.

AtoMikbomb
Fire of Insight
United States 13awards
Joined 1st Aug 2017
Forum Posts: 141

The Rot That Wasn't

Mattress memory
fantasies impress  
bodyprints  
like the pallor  
of mattock hands
Chopping sallow marrow
and clamoring into my muddy  
mind - Irish loam
 
A foam is
the whole
the addled all
the ever-it I've ever  
known
 
Dizzied breathing
squeezes  
stale attic air
through pinholes;
Glycerol victuals
for the perpetually perturbed  
 
Wind is words
winding
my findings  
spell book bindings
slide down wonderland
as blonde reveries  
ooze  
profusely
through blued out wormholes
Written by AtoMikbomb
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UbiquitousVoid
. . . . . . . . .
Thought Provoker
United States 11awards
Joined 11th Sep 2016
Forum Posts: 245

A difficult decision, as there was a great variety of different takes on the subject matter, different stories to tell. But I chose cloventongue89 as the winner, as his had the greatest thought-provoking impact on me, and was closest to what I was looking for in this comp. Excellently written. Well done to all, and to the runners-up, and thank you all for participating in my competition.

poet Anonymous

Well done ClovenTongue and thank you Void, I enjoy these comps which really make me think!

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