Poetry competition CLOSED 28th February 2019 2:53pm
WINNER
Heaven_sent_Kathy
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The Saddest Lines Written

JohnnyBlaze
JohnnyBlaze
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 20th Mar 2015
Forum Posts: 1541

Poetry Contest

Classic Corner tribute to Pablo Neruda

Co-Host - Ahavati ( the architectress of these educational comps )

Part X in an ongoing series introducing serious writers of DUP to the most well-known poets, both classical and modern.

Ricardo Eliécer Neftalí Reyes Basoalto (12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973), better known by his pen name and, later, legal name Pablo Neruda, was a Chilean poet-diplomat and politician. Neruda became known as a poet when he was 13 years old, and wrote in a variety of styles, including surrealist poems, historical epics, overtly political manifestos, a prose autobiography, and passionate love poems such as the ones in his collection Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair (1924). He won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1971.

Guidelines

Write a new poem honoring Neruda from any of his published poetry.  We feel listing poems may be constricting, and want you to follow the inspiration wherever it leads.

Do your best to make us feel as though we are reading poems by Neruda. The more we feel you "capturing his essence" in "your own words" , the higher you will score.  This will involve choice of wording, delivery, subject material, formatting, target audience - a wide range of factors.  

The Rules

1.  One entry per DUP persona.  

2. No erotica; this is open to all ages and can't be viewed with an ECW.  

3. No exact word limit; however, attempt to keep it no more than 250 - 300.  

4. Any form is acceptable ( but studying the poet is advised ).  

5. Hashtag your poem #PabloNeruda and link to your poem here. Do NOT copy paste your poem to the competition. The point is to eventually direct visitors searching for Neruda to your poem via the hashtag we hope will eventually be implemented by the Webmiss.  

Comp will be judged by a panel including myself.  You have one month; best of luck to all entrants.    

JohnnyBlaze
JohnnyBlaze
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 20th Mar 2015
Forum Posts: 1541

Titanic

 

Slate grey was the lumbering
leviathan slowly making its way
chameleoned in a lowly mist;
drifting through canal derelict
with madness swirling, thicked
across decked cargo unclaimed

If one were to further inspect -
this is what you may have missed;

a behemoth's hull full of sadness
as it meandered unpurposeful
having nowhere in particular to go;

ghost of a titan long ago
unnamed











#PabloNeruda



 
Written by JohnnyBlaze
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Non-entry

Jade-Pandora
Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 9th Nov 2015
Forum Posts: 4764

The Scent Of The Night She Was Born

   
It’s still not too late    
as she rises near a light    
to a knock at her   
front door this evening,    
   
Carefully wrapping    
herself in a robe from    
the chill in the air    
and whoever is there,    
so they will think her  
a respectable whore.    
   
Yet she sees no one  
as she stay in the soft light  
at the threshold,    
in the thin clean air    
of the Chilean Andes,    
with a scent of    
split cordwood in a pile.    
   
And she steps out on    
the porch where    
cane chairs are stacked,    
brought to her  
by men who buy them  
from her as payment.    
   
She is a handsome    
woman, still young even,    
but not too much.    
She has always    
remembered herself    
like this, and no other.    
   
As she sits in a cane chair    
to wait for the first    
light of a rising moon,    
she forget the    
cigarette she drew on    
inside as it dwindles    
and goes out,    
   
And a new memory    
tries to surface.    
For she has no    
memory of being born,    
or the woman    
who bore her.    
Yet she thinks she has died,    
but loses no sleep.    
   
And she never weeps for    
burnt wood    
long gone to ash.    
And she doesn’t know why,    
but she likes to try to    
imagine the scent    
of the night she was born.    
Written by Jade-Pandora (jade tiger)
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ImperfectedStone
ImperfectedStone
The Gardener
Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom
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Joined 10th Oct 2010
Forum Posts: 1214

To Linger (Neruda)

I remember you as you were in the last autumn,
in black and white, in sheets and sheets, on fallen leaves, in puddles, by torch-light -
in reflections of eyes unable to see  
the metal core of your soul.  
  
Your will still bent me as espalier trees,  
the buds contorted, the bones ill at ease.  
A bonfire of awe inside my youth was burning  
as the delicate flowers of my spring were nurtured to show.  
   
You relieve, as deciduous leaves, upon consistent growth.  
The sheets and sheets fall, the still frame of our moment migrates  
where our touches caught beneath torch-light    
are frozen in black as char, in white as snow.  
   
The heady ball of light makes puddles of us,  
melts harsh history to purer reflections cast upon our familiar sky  
as buds are constrained to pay my toll.  
Those Autumn days hollowed out the soul.  
   
#PabloNeruda
Written by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
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snugglebuck
snugglebuck
Dangerous Mind
United States
75awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 3rd Feb 2014
Forum Posts: 1755

Ode to the Forbidden Fruit

It was not the apple 🍎
That was the cause
Of the man's downfall
Rather, it was the avocado
 
With green snakeskin hide 🐍
And a stone hardcore heart
The avocado is Satan’s pride
In the shape of the serpent’s eye
 
What other fruit could Eve
Use to tempt Adam's integrity,
A tender fig or fuzzy kiwi?
Or maybe a shiny cherry?
 
Offer a peach to an outlaw biker
And you'll get punched
Give him an avocado
And you'll get a hug
 
For strawberries nor nectarines
Compliment beer and football 🏈
Like the virile macho avocado
 
Primitive hardy with beefy flesh
Nothing says, "Masculinity"
Like a bowl of guacamole
 
#PabloNeruda
Written by snugglebuck
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Heaven_sent_Kathy
Heaven_sent_Kathy
Thought Provoker
United States
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Joined 1st Nov 2017
Forum Posts: 165

Hearing Nothing In The Snow

   
It was from an open balcony,    
where I saw,    
surrounded by    
war-torn deserted streets    
circling the (ruins of an) arena,    
and muffled by a    
winter dusting falling    
where there was no sky,    
muting the    
approach of horses.    
    
Black crows perch    
on a gentle sway of    
each horse’s back, to their    
synchronized lockstep,    
as mesmerizing    
as the brown shirts, who    
trot next to a solemn truck    
in its slow percussion.    
     
A frail boy with a rabbit,    
comes out of hiding    
from behind    
an overturned sedan    
that still smolders    
from when it was torched    
since before    
the snow had come.    
     
A shrill voice cracks the ice.    
“Halt! Schnell    
den Weg frei machen!”    
     
The boy with onyx eyes    
raises the    
limp rabbit in offering.    
It was dead.    
     
A soldier jumps from the    
truck, fixing a    
bayonet to his rifle,    
then runs up to the boy    
as he lunges.    
     
The horses, with their    
Grecian necks of amber,    
toss long manes,    
flaming.
 
Written by Heaven_sent_Kathy
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Ahavati
Ahavati
Tyrant of Words
United States
77awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 11th Apr 2015
Forum Posts: 3795

The Fear ( After Pablo Neruda )

We are not naturally afraid of darkness;
we gestate within it, our eyes unclear
thriving in gelatinous sockets of growth—  
it is birth that dilates pupils to fear.  
  
Abuse, its steel toe boot cracking the teeth  
of our solar plexus in times of innocence;  
adolescence demands our participation—  
microscopically studies each breath.  
   
Breaking the spine of nonconformity  
fear wills one into a submissive participant;  
dominant peers lord over the weak  
and life is not lived, but tolerated.  
   
We sit on the rim of the well of darkness  
and fish for fallen light with patience.
 
We seek havens of peaceful confinement—  
ultimately concluding ourself the safest.  
 
~        
          
#PabloNeruda
Written by Ahavati
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slipalong
slipalong
Fire of Insight
United Kingdom
9awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 1st Jan 2018
Forum Posts: 301

Fog of loss;

That tunnel seemed so dark    
the curved ball stoped you in your tracks
   
Quicksand being where the ground was easily tread
 any chinks of light in that dim place;
   
The candle flickers but won't be doused
small steps of faith come as increments of closure now
    
The die that is cast of inconsolable malaise    
times steadies the hand to find the dawn again
    
To lift a spirit from its cellar dwelling    
the full of disconnected question marks
    
You somehow brave the incline to the top    
and having scaled the blackness stood aloft
    
The compass point with its point so bright    
draws you through eclipse to that resting place
 
# Pablo Neruda
Written by slipalong
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PoetsRevenge
PoetsRevenge
Dangerous Mind
United States
12awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 30th June 2016
Forum Posts: 238

Sonnet xxvi (Love's Name)

‘I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,  
in secret, between the shadow and the soul  

I love you as the plant that never blooms  
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers.’  

                                    -Pablo Neruda  
 
 
Deep in the hollow heart  
a flame tries to be born;
it sparks and flickers,
it only thinks of you.  
It knows it must be born  
for you require its warmth.  
It is as a star to those who gaze  
at the sky, milky and wide.  
It knows its life will be short  
compared to the eternity of most things.  
It knows itself to be a shooting star  
that dies in spite of itself  
after the brightest blaze it can effect;  
it burns itself for love, only love, its taste  
lingers on the night air.  
 
What was that flame I felt,  
what was your name, love, love,  
I always knew you cared;  
when I closed my eyes you were always there  
and still you were singed by my longing for you.  
You were frozen in my lacking, needing.  
Still, I only knew you by your name, love, love  
and it was I alone who lit the flame.  
 
It was you burning in those embers  
glowing in the dark,  
it was you rising; a ghost in the fire,
a resurrection of my heart.  
You were the scent of all the  
unbloomed flowers which  
permeated my soul darkly,  
solidly and straightforwardly.  
 
I knew no other way to love you  
so your arms became mine.  
The light of your embrace  
became mine for you.  
The dark of your heart  
became my heart  
and somewhere  
between my soul and my shadow  
my love for you was born.
 
          .....  
 
#Pablo Neruda
Written by PoetsRevenge
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JohnnyBlaze
JohnnyBlaze
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 20th Mar 2015
Forum Posts: 1541

Whoop! Whoop!

The vote is on for our next Classic Corner comps!

https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/10625/

Ahavati
Ahavati
Tyrant of Words
United States
77awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 11th Apr 2015
Forum Posts: 3795

Greetings, honored Classic participants.  The above poll for March has been closed in order to have time to prep the portraits.  

Below is the new poll for April.  This will close March 15 ( so beware the Ides of March and vote before then ).  We are conducting this early in order to prepare DUP's NaPoWriMo Team and Comp. Thank you.

https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/10638/#439297

eswaller
eswaller
Dangerous Mind
United States
27awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 22nd Dec 2015
Forum Posts: 608

Love Sonnet (After Neruda)

I do not love you as if you were made of the finest gold
This world has to offer or because your smile can start
A fire. I love you as the darkness desires light and cold  
Touches crave warmth. There is something your heart  
  
Always wants; to always be loved in all the right ways  
And places without fear of being broken or delicate.  
I wish to love the deepest parts of you, not for days  
You spent in the summer, but when you felt desolate,  
   
Alone and everyone ignored you when you needed  
Love. That is when I will prove you and them wrong  
Because I never let your tears or voice go unheeded.  
I know only of one way to love you with no ping-pong  
   
Battle. What I want ends with your head against my  
Chest as you sleep and dream, my hand on your thigh.  
   
   
#PabloNeruda
Written by eswaller
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JusTim_
JusTim_
Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 22nd Jan 2017
Forum Posts: 116

Is There But One Truth

Is there but only one truth    
painted above these eyes  
edifying about  
in those slivers of your sun    
that make my way    
   
   
is there but one love    
where winters cease    
and fires burn end to end    
   
beyond these mountains    
of white and grey    
stagnant blurs that never lift    
   
   
I wonder if the wind would ever blow    
and answers would appear    
written in the braille of your soul    
   
but if I could not touch such soul    
and read such tales    
would futures fade    

or would you feel the brazen breeze    
and move those mountains    

letting me know said truths    
crackling in sparks    
of a slow warming fire    
   
   
   
#PabloNeruda
Written by JusTim_
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yelluw_always
yelluw_always
Haley Quaquaversal
Fire of Insight
United States
5awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 24th Dec 2018
Forum Posts: 132

Ode to Nothing (Neruda)

So many things    
about you, nothing,    
you who are often      
in philosophy and theology.      
I close      
my eyes and see you.      
I wave      
my hands      
behind my head and unsee you.      
Unfeeling. I move      
through you,      
my frame framing you. Out      
of you, all things begin.      
The anticipation is great      
at this cusp.      
The astronomers      
love you, they bang on      
and on      
about nothing,      
the mathematicians      
go further than zero      
and call you null, some      
null thing.      
Love exists but goes away      
with you, I feel      
nothing      
for former lovers. It's      
an absence      
that flat-lines.      
In no time, no space,      
no radiation, no particles-      
you were a field      
of lines or one,      
sheeted and somehow      
you noticed other      
lines, another      
and another, bump      
in and in existence      
against the other.      
Something      
was born. A pair      
into a quad.      
Our shapes. Our universes.      
One verse, indeed,      
expands      
into geometry, sides, boxes,      
blobs, desires and cries.      
You are the before      
of a fire      
from the dried moss      
of morass and a flint.      
I know you well,      
a fever burned      
out my ears,      
now there is no sound.      
I know how you feel,      
to be repelled by or to be      
attracted by
those dreamers.      
I exist with some      
absence      
of something, that one      
nothing.      
It is a marvel      
to make art out of you,      
the ideas      
that cohere      
in the here and after,      
proof in the concrete,      
by our creations      
into our hands.    
A duende, the infinitesimal    
poof, the spark,    
pops in and in    
and makes new. We all see      
how the energy flows      
from our head to canvas      
to paper to stone.      
It is nothing to imagine      
what you are, mystery.      
Easy, that is- by a loss.      
Fill it up      
with leaving, write no      
letters back, cut    
the connected      
string to friends,  
old lovers, the shore.  
Stay landlocked  
and live  
a phantasm of an ocean.  
One day I’ll be unmade by you,  
meanwhile, sleep  
brings us  
closer together.  
         
#PabloNeruda
Written by yelluw_always (Haley Quaquaversal)
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