Poetry competition CLOSED 31st January 2019 7:48am
WINNER
Anonymous
Anonymous
Who inspires you?
Poetry Contest Description
Pick a person who inspires you and write a poem about it.
Topic: Who is someone that inspires you? To be a better person. To write, to create, to be passionate, to carry on; your hero, so to speak. Write a poem about, or dedicated to a person who you really admire.
Details: No specific form, length, or requirements, other than that you write about a specific person who inspires you.
Duration: 2 weeks
My poem about Jason Becker, an incredible man, who didn't let becoming paralyzed stop him from pursuing his passion and dreams. You'll have to read my poem to learn exactly why he is so inspiring to me, but he is pretty awesome! If you have the time, I also encourage you to read my author's note, and watch the videos that I've included with my poem, which I'll attach below.
I look forward to reading your entries, and hope for a decent turnout! I don't know how to create a 'vote', so I guess at the end I'll pick a winner if I can figure out how (this is the first competition I've created). Anyway, happy writing!
EDIT: I requested a vote instead because I may have developed a bias for some members of the community. I figured it might be more fair that way.
Details: No specific form, length, or requirements, other than that you write about a specific person who inspires you.
Duration: 2 weeks
My poem about Jason Becker, an incredible man, who didn't let becoming paralyzed stop him from pursuing his passion and dreams. You'll have to read my poem to learn exactly why he is so inspiring to me, but he is pretty awesome! If you have the time, I also encourage you to read my author's note, and watch the videos that I've included with my poem, which I'll attach below.
I look forward to reading your entries, and hope for a decent turnout! I don't know how to create a 'vote', so I guess at the end I'll pick a winner if I can figure out how (this is the first competition I've created). Anyway, happy writing!
EDIT: I requested a vote instead because I may have developed a bias for some members of the community. I figured it might be more fair that way.
Jason Becker
Jason Becker was a star,
shining brighter than the rest.
He played the hell out of the guitar;
Some might say he was the best.
He scored a gig of high acclaim,
His wildest dreams were coming true!
Then his fate took a tragic turn;
It struck out of the blue.
He was diagnosed with ALS
Doctors said he’d live a few more years,
Because it was still germinal,
But they had little hope for him:
"The disease is always terminal."
Jason’s dreams came crashing down,
He had just begun to live,
At just 19 years old,
he had so much more to give!
But Jason persevered
30 years went by, and he didn’t die,
But can longer speak or move.
And after all these years,
He still hasn’t lost his groove!
With his eyes he can communicate,
He makes music with them too;
Note by note, he writes his opus,
From which heaven’s angels flew.
With the power of technology,
his family, and his friends,
His ingenious musicology
Never really ends.
So perfectly divine,
The soaring melodies he creates.
His intelligent design,
So beautifully, he orchestrates.
His music speaks so loud and clear,
His message to the world is this:
“Love is the reason I’m alive,”
“And love is the key to happiness.”
shining brighter than the rest.
He played the hell out of the guitar;
Some might say he was the best.
He scored a gig of high acclaim,
His wildest dreams were coming true!
Then his fate took a tragic turn;
It struck out of the blue.
He was diagnosed with ALS
Doctors said he’d live a few more years,
Because it was still germinal,
But they had little hope for him:
"The disease is always terminal."
Jason’s dreams came crashing down,
He had just begun to live,
At just 19 years old,
he had so much more to give!
But Jason persevered
30 years went by, and he didn’t die,
But can longer speak or move.
And after all these years,
He still hasn’t lost his groove!
With his eyes he can communicate,
He makes music with them too;
Note by note, he writes his opus,
From which heaven’s angels flew.
With the power of technology,
his family, and his friends,
His ingenious musicology
Never really ends.
So perfectly divine,
The soaring melodies he creates.
His intelligent design,
So beautifully, he orchestrates.
His music speaks so loud and clear,
His message to the world is this:
“Love is the reason I’m alive,”
“And love is the key to happiness.”
Written by NewBeginnings
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Anonymous
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Anonymous
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Anonymous
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Anonymous
My Muse
With kind intentions providing great inspiration for my many creations. She is my muse, the woman whom fuels my artistic tools. Supporting my every move, but hidden in the shadows is what she choose. Not in sight but nothing I can do. So I write from the early morning days to the dark late nights in hopes she steps out into the light and reads more than just the words I write, analyzing the deeper meaning of what I'm meaning. To actually see beyond the greys and blues within me.
Written by Chris_Pleasures
(Chris Pleasures)
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Annie Moore
Written for the “Who Inspires You?” Contest by NewBeginnings
One hundred and seventy years ago,
Over the course of several nights,
A boat of many passengers arrived,
With their passports by their side.
All of them spoke different languages,
Though they all shared something in common.
All those children sailed the sea,
To come to this “gateway” island.
Of the many, Irish and Scottish,
Immigrants - all the same.
Annie Moore was one of the passengers,
And was the first to cross the gates.
A mere fifteen years old, she arrived,
Tagging along, her brothers.
Her mother daringly sent her alone,
Crying, “I love you, daughter!”
One hundred and seventy years ago,
Over the course of several nights,
A boat of many passengers arrived,
With their passports by their side.
All of them spoke different languages,
Though they all shared something in common.
All those children sailed the sea,
To come to this “gateway” island.
Of the many, Irish and Scottish,
Immigrants - all the same.
Annie Moore was one of the passengers,
And was the first to cross the gates.
A mere fifteen years old, she arrived,
Tagging along, her brothers.
Her mother daringly sent her alone,
Crying, “I love you, daughter!”
Written by solanaceae
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From The Sidelines
He was always a part of my deepest and darkest pleasure,
Giving me a fire that would frequently be burning brighter
Than any single constellation or star in the dark sky. He is
Not anyone’s gold mine, but he is my most prized treasure
Hidden deep within the shadows and he was a solid lighter
Who frequently lit me up. He was the one to hold me in his
Strong embrace. He was always pushing for me to be at my
Fullest and my highest potential when I was really feeling
I was at my lowest point. He is my angel and my protector,
Guarding or keeping me safe against the tears I would cry
That came at nighttime. He repaired every cracked ceiling
And held it together for me. He was a bridge and connector
From my past to my present. He is my breath and tomorrow.
He is right in the middle of my chaotic messy storm. I was
Finding myself hanging onto him like an anchor while he
Poured himself into me when I was empty and my sorrow
Threatening to ruin things I knew. My escape from the buzz
Lived in his arms and heart. He asks me what inspires me…
I do not tell him that it is him and it will always be him in
The end because he always stays embedded under my skin.
Giving me a fire that would frequently be burning brighter
Than any single constellation or star in the dark sky. He is
Not anyone’s gold mine, but he is my most prized treasure
Hidden deep within the shadows and he was a solid lighter
Who frequently lit me up. He was the one to hold me in his
Strong embrace. He was always pushing for me to be at my
Fullest and my highest potential when I was really feeling
I was at my lowest point. He is my angel and my protector,
Guarding or keeping me safe against the tears I would cry
That came at nighttime. He repaired every cracked ceiling
And held it together for me. He was a bridge and connector
From my past to my present. He is my breath and tomorrow.
He is right in the middle of my chaotic messy storm. I was
Finding myself hanging onto him like an anchor while he
Poured himself into me when I was empty and my sorrow
Threatening to ruin things I knew. My escape from the buzz
Lived in his arms and heart. He asks me what inspires me…
I do not tell him that it is him and it will always be him in
The end because he always stays embedded under my skin.
Written by eswaller
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