Poetry competition CLOSED 7th March 2018 00:50am
WINNER
Gover
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poet
tmoj
___xjslt_
Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 2nd Nov 2016
Forum Posts: 48

Poetry Contest

Put up your favorite poem. Whoever has the best wins.

poet
Gover
Strange Creature
United States
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Joined 20th Feb 2018
Forum Posts: 3

Can't you see?

Can't you see?
It's all falling apart
No more churning, no more turning
 
Just collapsing and falling free
My mind is racing no time to worry about my now withered heart
Because everything I have build is bursting and burning
 
I just want to be me
But I have to get it correct, I have to get it right, I have to hit the bullseye with my dart
I'm expected to do great things, to keep learning and earning
 
It's all so much I need to escape, I need to flee
Just a little more and I feel my cold dead body will be taken out on a cart
The world is going too fast, it's whirling and blurring
 
I can't keep up, I can't keep going, my troubles keep following me like a screaming banshee
Im told I just have to work through it, just work harder, be better, but i'm not that strong or that smart
I can't even keep focus, I lose track of my self during my discerning

Can't you see what this is doing to me?
Can't you see this is not the way it was meant to be?
Can't you see I can't do this, can't you see i need to be free?
Written by Gover
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poet
JAZZMANOR
Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 4th Aug 2011
Forum Posts: 100

"Chickens Coming Home To Roost"

When brother Malcolm first voiced this sentiment  
the meaning was so misconstrued  
now more then fifty years later  
we can reexamine his true attitude  
 
He wasn't glorifying violence  
but rather suggesting silence when action was in demand  
when people simply expressing their rights  
where lynched across the land  
 
The media blew the words up into rejoicing a president's death  
missing the key message to be discerned  
thinking guilt was severely restricted  
and today we still have much to learn
 
For we glorify violence  
a component of entertainment in various forms  
violent conflict resolution  
so ingrained and now societal norms  
 
In sports when is attention harnessed?
the competition that gets out of hand  
if not on the playing field  
then occurring in the stands  
 
Video games most popular  
have children destroying fictional beasts  
or animated human characters  
blood splattered the display anything but neat  
 
The political experience crouched in combative phrases  
pitting one party against another in a game  
linguistic battles taken to the ninth degree  
how quickly can we tar and defame  
 
How about the selling of weapons for profits  
one campaign chair of the likely lady next to serve  
we would rather limit contraceptions at a school health clinic  
as if teenagers curious about sex creates a union of perves  
 
Ignoring the companies based in the US
who push armaments on a global scene  
sometimes to ruthless autocrats and dictators  
the epitome of inhuman and mean  
 
Selectively using the term terrorist  
ingoring many years of our own history's deeds
lacking courage to confront that strain within us  
we won't separate the lovely flowers from the strangling weeds
 
But the "arch of world events" will catch up  
even if our only crime was silence in the round  
maybe we will choose another direction  
before deep sorrow finds us feeling down  
 
For it isn't enough just to advocate for gun restrictions  
but one channel that we must pursue  
we must visit our collective reactions  
not scapegoat those whose numbers are actually few  
 
You see no one religion has a lock on saving humanity  
stories across the planet have violent hues  
despite what may be conventional thinking  
yes the truth is hard to sometimes chew  
 
We can't be a civilized nation  
telling other nations we are the purveyors of peace  
while stock holders are enriched via destruction  
if sincere there is behavior that must cease
Written by JAZZMANOR
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poet
Heaven_sent_Kathy
Lost Thinker
United States
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Joined 1st Nov 2017
Forum Posts: 10

Drawing Deep the Well that Night

The smoke & ash from glowing embers  
Left from a fire that raged hot that night  
   
Was when she in her darkest thoughts had    
Wrapped me in a deeper velvet, covering    
   
A bed of lamb's wool, to be smothered    
In a traditional, biblical love.    
   
Where my paleness was the milk & honey    
That laid among the goat herd with their teats    
   
Full & dangling as I woke from their bleats.    
And there she was, the warrior shepherdess    
   
Waving the herd aside like a sea parting    
Just as she began to kneel over me,    
   
With musk descending, my arms reaching,    
Our bodies curved as goat bells scattered.  
 
Written by Heaven_sent_Kathy
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poet
lepperochan
Craic-in-a-box
Tyrant of Words
Palestine
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Joined 1st Apr 2011
Forum Posts: 12363

Space within - touhtiw emiT

(¡)

and time
ain't no Robin Hood
wouldn't give it space on my wrist
because it cares for nothing


(¡¡)

She offered me space
and I refused
then she forced it upon me
so I filled it with anger
and drowned her



(¡¡¡)

look at it, fool
do you think ol' Mr Higgs
gives a fiddler's fuck
where the little hand points
Written by lepperochan (Craic-in-a-box)
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poet
thepositivelydark
Fire of Insight
Philippines
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Joined 28th Aug 2013
Forum Posts: 94

Nighthawks

We write.

We only meet in the dim lights, it seems,
You and I.
Nighthawks telling stories through flesh and stars and raindrops.
You sit next to me.

They wait for us to spill more secrets,
Though I know not as much about poetry.
No one knows how we're all here -
No one knows the way out -
Yet we love that one air
Filling our lungs differently.

We rarely barely touch,
You and I,
But your smokes enter me -
Black and white and unavoidable.

Your hand near mine - like mine -
Resting then flowing
With verses and rhyme,
Rain and roses,
Thorns and secret universes.

I can never cut as deep as you,
You ruthless bastard.
I guess that comes with time and talent,
And I'm just a lonely young girl you can color in with whatever you want and lay down on pages.
You always bring me there,
To your time, your place.
Was I ever able to show you the colors of mine?

I don't need you to tell me you love me,
Good sir.
I guess that comes with madness - loving me -
And I'm just a girl almost living, almost dying,
Almost naked, almost fucking,
Almost singing,
Almost writing,
Almost cliché.

We like to pretend that we're dancers in the moonlight.
The truth is we're only nighthawks under fluorescent harshness.

Stuck in poetry.


Art: Nighthawks by Edward Hopper

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JGulAZnnTKA
Written by thepositivelydark
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poet
wallyroo92
Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 11th July 2012
Forum Posts: 504

Illicit Ecstasy

You’re overwhelmed by those images in your head,
That at first they seem like some passing fascination,
But then, the thought becomes more vivid and lively,
You find yourself living with a constant obsession.

And the sweet torment of the filthy fantasy fulfills you,
For only a little while until you delve in it again,
In fleeting names of shapes and forms, of acts unknown,
That seems to feed a hunger that has no end.

It becomes the perfect scenario of man’s indulgence,
In things that are forbidden and what should never be,
But in the darkest places of the heart and mind you find,
Ways to relish in the visions of vile and illicit ecstasy.

poet
Hepcat61
geoff cat
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 27th Nov 2015
Forum Posts: 934

OLD TOM AND THE TIGER (Redux)

(a nursery sonnet)
    
Her keepers called her cage her “habitat,”  
And she was queen of her two block domain.  
Kept court in summer shade, his regent cat,  
Old Tom was "jester" of his tiger’s reign.  
    
Old Tom, would watch her grandly regal stalk,  
As she would pace to gain the humans’ stare.  
Old Tom would stride and match her walk for walk,  
As she would smile to watch his strutting there.  
    
But cold in winter’s bleak, she’d barely stir.  
These frigid rains that made her feel so sick,  
So lost, then came a rustle in her fur.  
It was Old Tom with nip and tug and lick.  
    
Old Tom would stay and play with her awhile,  
He always seemed to prod his tiger’s smile.
 
 
 
Written by Hepcat61 (geoff cat)
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poet
calamitygin
Jennifer Michael McCurry
Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 22nd June 2015
Forum Posts: 1908

A silly ol' cum kind Hillbilly squaw loves her camel tooo much rhyme...or Mrs.Malaprop's words go terribly wrong!!

The squaw that stroked the camel's sack had finally dun herself in.      
She looked into the eyes of the beast,        
and became powerful frightened of his wicked grin!        
Oh Holy Moly how that one stroke too far had engorged his needed hump....        
She saw her touch had unleashed a devlish urge and swallowed hard with a lump..        
Swollen from lust..        
And in need of a thrust...        
He pawed his hooves at the ground..        
Never in her short sqaw life had she heard anything snortin such a hellacious sound!        
Then she saw the enormous size        
of the thing she had rized..        
And the camal hocked a big ol spit..        
The sweet lil thang Cherokee hollered, and her mocassins took her off lickety split..        
He came chargin right behind her, bound and determined, nostrils round n aflared..        
Man! You should have seen that purty lil squaw runnin, by gawd she was ascared!!!      
     
For my Kitty Kat and favorite grinnin bloke..blocat..love you for your efforts at makin me giggle. Eternal luvs and hugz!
Written by calamitygin (Jennifer Michael McCurry)
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poet
AtoMikbomb
Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 1st Aug 2017
Forum Posts: 134

Aaron


 
Will you garden  
in the still
screens
lilting your wilted
wanderings upon  
greenery ears?
 
Those hedgerows...
they knew (they know...)
your sentiments
penny candy etiquette  -  
your high-fructose fueled
to & fros  
 
Will you meadow
in fairy-ringed  
plateaus?
Skirting slick stanzas
through shadows  
of plunging-handed
willows
 
Will the rune
of lunes
untold
fold tuned feathers
restful and warm
'round newfound
charcoal keyholes?
Peppering the scroll  
your pen has scored;  
boring into  
my soul...
 
my soul
 
 
 
Written by AtoMikbomb
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poet
FromTheAsh
Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 20th Feb 2017
Forum Posts: 284

declaration of independence

 
with both trembling hands
I will seek you out
where once you sought shelter
in the echoes of my pain
you will take no comfort there
when illusions are burned away

and I will fist you
tight between love and anger
and strangle what we have been together
forever silencing your hateful voice
struggling even now to be heard

I will shatter every bridge
spanning the space
between then and right now
leaving you alone in the shadows
with no way to ever break out

I will see you paralyzed
unable to even breathe
leave you as torn and broken
as you tried to leave me
banish you into the ether
of what you would have me believe

I'm issuing warning
as soon as I gather my courage
tossing the gauntlet
on this blood-soaked ground
hereby declaring war
on my self-doubt




Copyright © 2018 FromTheAsh. All Rights Reserved
Written by FromTheAsh
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poet
Krosgood
Violence
Thought Provoker
United States
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Joined 21st Mar 2014
Forum Posts: 159

Sonnet of the War Child

Transmutation, nucleus redesigned
Experimental reconfiguring    
DNA strands set to be realigned    
Nuclear waste excelled disfiguring  
   
Radioactive sludge like solution  
Scientifically overhauls the flesh  
Manipulating it's evolution  
Creates the children the gutters caress    
   
Toxicity levels begin to grow  
Red swollen eyes burning from the crying  
Staring at the clouds which are black as crow  
Gathering now together and dying
   
Post nuclear war, child of the past  
Plays in the fallout of death ridden gas
Written by Krosgood (Violence)
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poet
Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 9th Nov 2015
Forum Posts: 3894

Craneo de un Caballo

Soon it was clear that the moon
was a horse's skull,  
and the air, a dark apple.
 
   
The gearshift shudder of  
a heavy-laden truck fades,  
   
all the while, the  
sustained drone of bees;  
   
past their prime and sluggish,  
yet their wings cannot be stilled.  
   
A dull glint behind the eyes  
of a yoked pair of oxen,  
   
standing at a crossroad  
between myself and the fields  
   
that bake in the August  
of a Spanish sun,  
   
waiting for the  
hammer and anvil to sing,  
   
for the echoing refrain  
of rifle shots beyond  
   
a stand of distant trees  
shimmering from spent cartridges  
   
in the waning afternoon  
of your exquisitely curved spine.  
   
   
The title literally means "Skull of a Horse"  
Ever since I read about the Spanish poet, Federico Garcia Lorca (1898-1936), some of his poetry, his biography, and of his violent death - I've always felt the loss, and the injustice of how he was abducted and executed by Nationalists of Franco's army during the Spanish civil war of the 30's.    
   
Credit for the first stanza in italics is from Lorca's poem, "Ruin" which can be viewed in its entirety here in both Spanish & English :

 
https://emilyjaneisaac.wordpress.com/2014/01/20/english-federico-garcia-lorca-poem-ruinaruin-analysis/
Written by Jade-Pandora (jade tiger)
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poet Anonymous

poet
Fallen_Angel_194
FlowerChild
Thought Provoker
United States
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Joined 24th May 2014
Forum Posts: 285

Bouquet of bruises

When they asked why I stayed so long,
I tell them it wasn't easy,
Breaking open and starting over.
The dark seed's planted within me.

When they ask me why I didn't tell,
I tell them it was hard to betray the man who raised me
I didn't know it was wrong,

I didn't know my body wasn't suppose to bloom filled with black and blue,
I didn't know good fathers didn't beat their daughters.
When they ask me why i didn't leave,
I tell them it wasn't easy to ignore the thorns planted within me.

I tell them it's hard to watch your mother take your father's side,
Even when she see's the bruises and settles for lies.
She ignores the bouquet's and settles for lies wrapped in gold.

I tell them it's not easy ripping out the thorns,
And settling for a father who screams horrible things outside your door.
I tell them it wasn't ever easy ignoring the locked doors.

My mother settled for the roses and Ignored the thorns,
And I settled for a bottle of boo's and ignored the locked doors.
My father settled for food and in return made my body black and blue.
Written by Fallen_Angel_194 (FlowerChild)
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