Poetry competition CLOSED 25th August 2011 9:51pm
WINNER
beautiful_accident
beautiful_accident
Pull The Trigger Poems
Poetry Contest Description
Objection: Sinister
The challenge of this competition is to paint a picture in the reader's mind; Strive to make them feel what the victim/antagonist is feeling and make them feel the suspicion and morbid nature of the situation.
The poem must tell a story; Perhaps about a socially awkward teenager that strives to be popular by killing the school's most beloved girl and attempting to replace her or a girl's rapist that comes back for her; The sky's the limit.
The poem must have 10-20 lines, sustain an acceptable rythme and reflect the horror of the story, and can be by any point of view but this view must be clear to the reader of course.
The poem must tell a story; Perhaps about a socially awkward teenager that strives to be popular by killing the school's most beloved girl and attempting to replace her or a girl's rapist that comes back for her; The sky's the limit.
The poem must have 10-20 lines, sustain an acceptable rythme and reflect the horror of the story, and can be by any point of view but this view must be clear to the reader of course.
Potato Salad
She cuts celery for salad
Why is she with a man like him
She looks at his head
Feels the knife
The way its weight contorts to her palm
Imagining the sound
As it plunges into the corpuscles
Medula Oblongata
Sitting shallowly under
The short blond tendrils
Barely protecting his open neck
Her blood tastes copper
Realizing she bit her cheek
She attends to her salad
Boiled albumin, cut the yolks
Feeling her forehead turn fire
It's fight or flight
She runs this time
Pandora's box remains untouched
She asks about the weather
Picks up the mixing spoon
And stirs in the mayonnaise
"Shoot him!"
I have no choice in this, the gun clutched in my hand.
I felt sick, I couldn't do this not now-- Not to him.
But I had no choice, being in this gang.
That was my choice and you can never leave the gang.
I see what happens when you try now, but this guy. . .
Sitting in front of me, light chestnut brown hair falling over
his blue eyes that have the slightest hint of green in one of them. . .
He is not just some other member of this gang.
He is my best friend, and not only that
but he is the one whom I love.
Do they know this?
Is that why this job was given to me?
Shoot him or be shot myself?
Yes?
No?
Right or wrong?
Written on this bullet is my good-bye to him.
Written on this bullet is my love for him.
"I-- I can't do this."
I barely know my own voice as I say those words.
I feel the weight of the gun in my hand and the anxiety pulling down on my heart.
There was no choice or test to know if I can do it or not.
It was either I shoot him or we both get shot?
Why is it so hard for me to turn the gun on someone else?
Why am I not strong enough?
Why can't I look him in the eyes, because I know that this is are final good-bye.
There's is no second times and there is no more trying.
This is it.
"It's okay. . . I forgive you."
He says those words to me and I meet his eyes.
My legs almost giving out underneath me and I feel like I might break down and cry.
I lower the gun and then take a deep breath
and lean over and kiss him, one last time--
In front of people too.
But these people don't matter to me.
I don't care anymore.
They want to take away the love of my life--
Fine, you're going to watch me say good-bye.
"I'm sorry"
One shot-- That's all it took.
A bullet in his head.
And now he's dead.
I killed a man.
That man was my best friend.
That man was my boyfriend.
There I said it-- Finally.
But I couldn't say it when you were here.
And now you're gone and you'll never know that I loved you.
Just like you loved me.
But when you were here I denied it, because love between two men is wrong.
Yeah-- I'm a guy and I am in love with a guy.
But I shot him.
There was no choice.
Because I was in a gang.
But that was my choice.
And it was my choice to love you.
And I'm sorry that I ended you too.
You deserved better than this.
And I hope you're in a happier place.
Written on a bullet is my guilt.
Written on a bullet is my sorrow.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I can't say it enough.
But it won't bring you back will it?
-Poem inspired by a book my girlfriend and I are writing, written from one of the characters' points of view-
I have no choice in this, the gun clutched in my hand.
I felt sick, I couldn't do this not now-- Not to him.
But I had no choice, being in this gang.
That was my choice and you can never leave the gang.
I see what happens when you try now, but this guy. . .
Sitting in front of me, light chestnut brown hair falling over
his blue eyes that have the slightest hint of green in one of them. . .
He is not just some other member of this gang.
He is my best friend, and not only that
but he is the one whom I love.
Do they know this?
Is that why this job was given to me?
Shoot him or be shot myself?
Yes?
No?
Right or wrong?
Written on this bullet is my good-bye to him.
Written on this bullet is my love for him.
"I-- I can't do this."
I barely know my own voice as I say those words.
I feel the weight of the gun in my hand and the anxiety pulling down on my heart.
There was no choice or test to know if I can do it or not.
It was either I shoot him or we both get shot?
Why is it so hard for me to turn the gun on someone else?
Why am I not strong enough?
Why can't I look him in the eyes, because I know that this is are final good-bye.
There's is no second times and there is no more trying.
This is it.
"It's okay. . . I forgive you."
He says those words to me and I meet his eyes.
My legs almost giving out underneath me and I feel like I might break down and cry.
I lower the gun and then take a deep breath
and lean over and kiss him, one last time--
In front of people too.
But these people don't matter to me.
I don't care anymore.
They want to take away the love of my life--
Fine, you're going to watch me say good-bye.
"I'm sorry"
One shot-- That's all it took.
A bullet in his head.
And now he's dead.
I killed a man.
That man was my best friend.
That man was my boyfriend.
There I said it-- Finally.
But I couldn't say it when you were here.
And now you're gone and you'll never know that I loved you.
Just like you loved me.
But when you were here I denied it, because love between two men is wrong.
Yeah-- I'm a guy and I am in love with a guy.
But I shot him.
There was no choice.
Because I was in a gang.
But that was my choice.
And it was my choice to love you.
And I'm sorry that I ended you too.
You deserved better than this.
And I hope you're in a happier place.
Written on a bullet is my guilt.
Written on a bullet is my sorrow.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I can't say it enough.
But it won't bring you back will it?
-Poem inspired by a book my girlfriend and I are writing, written from one of the characters' points of view-
The gun is a foreign-
Cold and cruel,
Full of bitterness and fear.
They say guns don't kill people,
Only people kill people.
But it's wrong.
I want to throw it away,
And leave into the dead night,
Forget the blood that had already been spilled.
But that would be the unthinkable,
Just as it was to think a lonely girl would end up in the position,
Holding a girl and facing the other.
Looking into the frozen eyes-
Full of fear.
They mirror mine,
I hate myself for becoming a monster,
For becoming the thing I feared most.
Uncontrollable.
I see everything clearly now.
I know now how to make it right.
You see, this bullet-
So sleek and shiny,
Will be stained with my blood.
Because,
They have all suffered enough.
Because I was filled with petty jealousy.
Because I could not control myself.
This is it,
This is the end.
Cold and cruel,
Full of bitterness and fear.
They say guns don't kill people,
Only people kill people.
But it's wrong.
I want to throw it away,
And leave into the dead night,
Forget the blood that had already been spilled.
But that would be the unthinkable,
Just as it was to think a lonely girl would end up in the position,
Holding a girl and facing the other.
Looking into the frozen eyes-
Full of fear.
They mirror mine,
I hate myself for becoming a monster,
For becoming the thing I feared most.
Uncontrollable.
I see everything clearly now.
I know now how to make it right.
You see, this bullet-
So sleek and shiny,
Will be stained with my blood.
Because,
They have all suffered enough.
Because I was filled with petty jealousy.
Because I could not control myself.
This is it,
This is the end.
Anonymous
Glock and Budweiserhttp://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/16993/
Lips embrace the cheaply made bottle
of my x'th number of beer,
and I could have sworn
as I looked down
I saw God at the bottom of my glass.
Well, this won't do.
Religion is for the petticoat-ed class.
And all I would like to put on
is a few more packs of alcohol.
So, I consult my friends:
Mr. Glock and Mr. Budweiser,
who sent me on my way.
And I put my lips, once again, on the
dusty old glass, determined
to quit this habit for good.
I pull it away, tilt it back,
until I get my two friends confused
and pull the trigger instead.
Lips embrace the cheaply made bottle
of my x'th number of beer,
and I could have sworn
as I looked down
I saw God at the bottom of my glass.
Well, this won't do.
Religion is for the petticoat-ed class.
And all I would like to put on
is a few more packs of alcohol.
So, I consult my friends:
Mr. Glock and Mr. Budweiser,
who sent me on my way.
And I put my lips, once again, on the
dusty old glass, determined
to quit this habit for good.
I pull it away, tilt it back,
until I get my two friends confused
and pull the trigger instead.
Love
I can see him coming home
Drunk again just a little late
To keep me on toes by door
looking through the peephole
My mind in a numb, dumb frenzy
He kisses my cheek, and that feeling
frosting my stomach in lovely rose icing
Just like our daughter's birthdaycake
I can't leave
Trapped like an ugly rat
Just a mess in tangles
No one else will love me.
I know this as he pins me to the wall
I smell it on his breath
It makes my nose cringe
His growl at that makes me freeze
Under his loving hands
I can hear him lighting up
Another cigerette to drag on
Sithering and seething butt on mine
I can see him coming home
Drunk again just a little late
To keep me on toes by door
looking through the peephole
My mind in a numb, dumb frenzy
He kisses my cheek, and that feeling
frosting my stomach in lovely rose icing
Just like our daughter's birthdaycake
I can't leave
Trapped like an ugly rat
Just a mess in tangles
No one else will love me.
I know this as he pins me to the wall
I smell it on his breath
It makes my nose cringe
His growl at that makes me freeze
Under his loving hands
I can hear him lighting up
Another cigerette to drag on
Sithering and seething butt on mine
I will
I thought you loved me
Everynight I get a voicemail from you
But I turn around for one minute
Now your gone
Gone for good
Gone for ever
I didnt want this to happen but it did
To bad
You missed out
Im not even gonna pout
So I slowly pull the gun
From my bag
When you turn around
Its up to your head
I told you not to cheat
I told you not to lie
Or your soul is in the sky
What are you doing
All you can say
Oh im doing nothing just seeing things my way
I lower the gun
Right to your balls
Then I pull the trigger that end it all
Never cheat again
Or next time its youe head
I thought you loved me
Everynight I get a voicemail from you
But I turn around for one minute
Now your gone
Gone for good
Gone for ever
I didnt want this to happen but it did
To bad
You missed out
Im not even gonna pout
So I slowly pull the gun
From my bag
When you turn around
Its up to your head
I told you not to cheat
I told you not to lie
Or your soul is in the sky
What are you doing
All you can say
Oh im doing nothing just seeing things my way
I lower the gun
Right to your balls
Then I pull the trigger that end it all
Never cheat again
Or next time its youe head
For (and because of) Danielle
I am not perfect,
if tonight speaks truth.
I saw them leave the bar,
four of those cocky bastards.
Pulling their leather jackets tight,
cursing loudly at the cold.
I followed them a block away
watching as they peeled off one by one
'til there was only him left...
The man who ruined my life,
the coward that never knew my face—
well he'll find it tonight
engrained in his memory,
and if I'm lucky
he'll find my knuckles
traced on his face.
I rushed up an alley to cut him off.
Adrenaline washing my elated mind
and heightening my frozen senses,
impervious to the cold
and all I could hear was
"I'm sorry, there's someone else, I'm sorry"
over and over.
As he reached my alley lair,
I stepped out front of him with a savage "Hello."
"Shit—" THUD
was all that escaped his head
as my right knuckles broke his nose.
He staggered back, adding blood
to the salty slush beneath, still on his feet
which (THUD) a left hook to the eye
and (THUD) a knee to the balls
took care of.
I wasn't in the business of keeping shots clean,
I was in the business of causing him pain.
A heel to the gut, that thick thud
and a rush of exhaled air
and I crouched down in front of him.
Pulled his head level with mine,
feral-growled "Now you can have her,"
and threw his head back into the slush.
I am not perfect,
as I found out when I
staggered off smiling.
( http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/13851/ )
I am not perfect,
if tonight speaks truth.
I saw them leave the bar,
four of those cocky bastards.
Pulling their leather jackets tight,
cursing loudly at the cold.
I followed them a block away
watching as they peeled off one by one
'til there was only him left...
The man who ruined my life,
the coward that never knew my face—
well he'll find it tonight
engrained in his memory,
and if I'm lucky
he'll find my knuckles
traced on his face.
I rushed up an alley to cut him off.
Adrenaline washing my elated mind
and heightening my frozen senses,
impervious to the cold
and all I could hear was
"I'm sorry, there's someone else, I'm sorry"
over and over.
As he reached my alley lair,
I stepped out front of him with a savage "Hello."
"Shit—" THUD
was all that escaped his head
as my right knuckles broke his nose.
He staggered back, adding blood
to the salty slush beneath, still on his feet
which (THUD) a left hook to the eye
and (THUD) a knee to the balls
took care of.
I wasn't in the business of keeping shots clean,
I was in the business of causing him pain.
A heel to the gut, that thick thud
and a rush of exhaled air
and I crouched down in front of him.
Pulled his head level with mine,
feral-growled "Now you can have her,"
and threw his head back into the slush.
I am not perfect,
as I found out when I
staggered off smiling.
( http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/13851/ )
drenched in heavenly tears he knelt,
in the middle of the already deserted street,
thinking of what a looser he was.
his heart lay in shreds,
torn apart by fates hand,
his face awashed by dripping pain,
telling an untold tale of a hurting mate.
if only she could see his sad state,
and listen to his babbling lips,
and the tone from this fibble creature,
that now knelt in sorrow,
saddened by the unending misery,
that seemed not to seize,
with each passing minute,
gloomier than the past,
if only she could hear him out,
but no she is long gone,
taken all he lived for,
life meant nothing anymore,
he took out the colt,
kissed the barrel and said the grace,
blast!!...cling!!...thud!!
he had pulled the trigger...
in the middle of the already deserted street,
thinking of what a looser he was.
his heart lay in shreds,
torn apart by fates hand,
his face awashed by dripping pain,
telling an untold tale of a hurting mate.
if only she could see his sad state,
and listen to his babbling lips,
and the tone from this fibble creature,
that now knelt in sorrow,
saddened by the unending misery,
that seemed not to seize,
with each passing minute,
gloomier than the past,
if only she could hear him out,
but no she is long gone,
taken all he lived for,
life meant nothing anymore,
he took out the colt,
kissed the barrel and said the grace,
blast!!...cling!!...thud!!
he had pulled the trigger...
Anonymous
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