Poetry competition CLOSED 4th May 2018 9:10pm
WINNER
LobodeSanPedro
LobodeSanPedro
RUNNER-UP:
wallyroo92
Honoring Angelou
Poetry Contest Description
Write a meaningful memoir piece
Dear Angelou's birthday is today. Although she's more renown for her autobiographies, she was also a poetic powerhouse.
Write a poem in a reflective manner (in your own voice, she certainly wouldn't desire anyone to conform to her style) about something with deeper, reaching concepts that reflect somehow on the human condition. She did this in her work repeatedly, and it's why it's so touching.
Old and new poems welcome
One poem/poet
No collabs this time, make it *yours*
----
Kin
We were entwined in red rings
Of blood and loneliness before
The first snows fell
Before muddy rivers seeded clouds
Above a virgin forest, and
Men ran naked, blue and black
Skinned into the warm embraces
Of Sheba, Eve and Lilith.
I was your sister.
You left me to force strangers
Into brother molds, exacting
Taxations they never
Owed or could ever pay.
You fought to die, thinking
In destruction lies the seed
Of birth. You may be right.
I will remember silent walks in
Southern woods and long talks
In low voices
Shielding meaning from the big ears
Of overcurious adults.
You may be right.
Your slow return from
Regions of terror and bloody
Screams, races my heart.
I hear again the laughter
Of children and see fireflies
Bursting tiny explosions in
An Arkansas twilight.
by Maya Angelou
Anonymous
Related submission no longer exists.
The Maya Angelou You Didn’t Know
Once an exotic dancer Maya was proud of her past at a time when any mention of sexuality left most aghast.
She was one of the first outspoken critics of our involvement in Southeast Asian conflict well before our troops were part of it.
Maya drank Cherry when while writing poetry and she loved baking, saying the scent of fresh baked cookies awakened her sensory sagacity.
She was religious without being a zealot, and she was feminist without being a militant.
A true poet, Maya Angelou couldn’t be labelled, because Maya Angelou was a true individual.
If only there were more people like her. If there were, our world would be much brighter.
She was one of the first outspoken critics of our involvement in Southeast Asian conflict well before our troops were part of it.
Maya drank Cherry when while writing poetry and she loved baking, saying the scent of fresh baked cookies awakened her sensory sagacity.
She was religious without being a zealot, and she was feminist without being a militant.
A true poet, Maya Angelou couldn’t be labelled, because Maya Angelou was a true individual.
If only there were more people like her. If there were, our world would be much brighter.
Written by snugglebuck
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Like Maya Angelou (Tribute)
Sexy, sultry and deep like Maya Angelou.
The words that bloom from the cracks in
The sidewalk like flowers. A painted blue
Sky in the backdrop, wearing every sin
Like a diamond necklace. Pretty to wear,
But it also shows us where we have been.
You light up the night sky and every tear
Is well hidden within that smile of yours.
Some day you will rise and swear
To protect what people are afraid of. Doors
Will open and you will walk in with grace.
Do not let life have you down on all fours,
Cowering like a scared animal. Your soft lace
Like beauty and sassiness that others will
Mock. Does it upset you? The way my face
Reflects like moon shadows. The thrill
That is sunny and bright behind my smile.
Darling, you do not need the extra frill.
You come with your own shine. The bile
And poison you spit out has no reason
To be a part of your history while
You go through every day of every season.
Let go of all of the hurt and treason.
The words that bloom from the cracks in
The sidewalk like flowers. A painted blue
Sky in the backdrop, wearing every sin
Like a diamond necklace. Pretty to wear,
But it also shows us where we have been.
You light up the night sky and every tear
Is well hidden within that smile of yours.
Some day you will rise and swear
To protect what people are afraid of. Doors
Will open and you will walk in with grace.
Do not let life have you down on all fours,
Cowering like a scared animal. Your soft lace
Like beauty and sassiness that others will
Mock. Does it upset you? The way my face
Reflects like moon shadows. The thrill
That is sunny and bright behind my smile.
Darling, you do not need the extra frill.
You come with your own shine. The bile
And poison you spit out has no reason
To be a part of your history while
You go through every day of every season.
Let go of all of the hurt and treason.
Written by eswaller
Go To Page
Evelina (1976)
Evelina (1976)
I am everything she prayed
I wouldn't be
Couldn't be
Because of promises made by her
to her Lord
I always felt she was going to her knees
just for me
Last thing in the evenin'
First thing before the cock crow
Yet
I stole from her
I'd sneak in her purse to take a few of her cigarettes
Blowing circles that my stick limbs
Could hula hoop with
I'd sneak in her frig and steal a beer or two
Trying to numb the wails of a boy
So I might be a man in her eyes
Stole her homemade wine at night
Playing cards in her kitchen with the cousins
Her threatening the switch if we made her get up
Yes M'am
We sang in chorus
And then kept drinkin'
When my father died
I needed to steal her dignity
Her grace
Her faith
And like everything else
My grandmother let me have them
Praying I would become
Everything I am not
I am everything she prayed
I wouldn't be
Couldn't be
Because of promises made by her
to her Lord
I always felt she was going to her knees
just for me
Last thing in the evenin'
First thing before the cock crow
Yet
I stole from her
I'd sneak in her purse to take a few of her cigarettes
Blowing circles that my stick limbs
Could hula hoop with
I'd sneak in her frig and steal a beer or two
Trying to numb the wails of a boy
So I might be a man in her eyes
Stole her homemade wine at night
Playing cards in her kitchen with the cousins
Her threatening the switch if we made her get up
Yes M'am
We sang in chorus
And then kept drinkin'
When my father died
I needed to steal her dignity
Her grace
Her faith
And like everything else
My grandmother let me have them
Praying I would become
Everything I am not
Written by LobodeSanPedro
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Anonymous
<< post removed >>
The Voices Of Woman
I Am In Awe Of The Voices Of Woman ;
Enchanted, Enthralled, Ecstatic,
Enveloped In A Lyrical Moment Of Rapture ;
The Power And Potentcy And Passion ,
The Embodiment Of All Feeling ,
And All Possibility ;
The Storytellers, The Weavers ,
The Mystery Makers, The Ones
Who Cry Out For Justice, For Healing ,
The Ones Who Have Lived, And Loved ,
And Died, And Ressurected Themselves ,
A Thousand Times Over Thru The Ages ,
And Come Back To Speak Of It ,
The Ones Who Honor This Earth ,
The Children, And Each Other ;
Intimate, Introspective, Instinctual,
Insatiable For The Experience Of Being ,
And Just Being ,
And Then Saying What Is Real ,
What Is Now , What Has Been,
The Ones Who Dream What Is To Come ;
In This Sacred Space , I Am In Awe
Of All The Voices Of Woman
Written by Blackwolf
(I.M.Blackwolf)
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Ole Miss
White woman, white woman
Show me your skin
Pallid and see through
You're allowed in
White woman, white woman
You wear it so well
Soul of a brown girl
With secrets to tell
White woman, white woman
Why do you cry
The face that they see
Has a depth belied
White woman, white woman
Come take my hand
Your caramel children
Will soon rule the land
White woman, white woman
Don't look away
Pain comes in all colors
Don't invite it to stay
Show me your skin
Pallid and see through
You're allowed in
White woman, white woman
You wear it so well
Soul of a brown girl
With secrets to tell
White woman, white woman
Why do you cry
The face that they see
Has a depth belied
White woman, white woman
Come take my hand
Your caramel children
Will soon rule the land
White woman, white woman
Don't look away
Pain comes in all colors
Don't invite it to stay
Written by Amanacer
Go To Page
Grapes
As I coast down the road,
The temperature says it's 102 outside,
As I blast my music and the A.C.,
It's a nice drive.
But then I notice the fields,
They're out there picking grapes,
In the blistering heat.
I look in the mirror,
At my brown face,
Thinking I was given the chance
to get an education,
to find a comfortable life,
Yet those migrant workers
Out there earning a living
Must have dreams and aspirations of their own,
To give their daughters and sons a chance.
And the fields are miles long,
There must be hundreds of them out there.
I turn the music down for a moment,
And tell my sons,
Look, they're out there picking grapes,
Trying to earn a living,
A decent wage.
But I guess we all have to start somewhere,
And although I felt a heavy heart for them,
As I drive down the highway fast,
I couldn't fathom their pain,
Their dreams and aspirations,
Their work feeding nations,
Because they're out there,
Picking up more than grapes.
As I coast down the road,
The temperature says it's 102 outside,
As I blast my music and the A.C.,
It's a nice drive.
But then I notice the fields,
They're out there picking grapes,
In the blistering heat.
I look in the mirror,
At my brown face,
Thinking I was given the chance
to get an education,
to find a comfortable life,
Yet those migrant workers
Out there earning a living
Must have dreams and aspirations of their own,
To give their daughters and sons a chance.
And the fields are miles long,
There must be hundreds of them out there.
I turn the music down for a moment,
And tell my sons,
Look, they're out there picking grapes,
Trying to earn a living,
A decent wage.
But I guess we all have to start somewhere,
And although I felt a heavy heart for them,
As I drive down the highway fast,
I couldn't fathom their pain,
Their dreams and aspirations,
Their work feeding nations,
Because they're out there,
Picking up more than grapes.
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
