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Josh
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When Dark Doves Fly

JohnnyBlaze
JohnnyBlaze
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Poetry Contest

The Classic Corner: Federico García Lorca Tribute

Co-Hosts - Ahavati & JohnnyBlaze  

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

Federico del Sagrado Corazón de Jesús García Lorca, known as Federico García Lorca [ 5 June 1898 – 19 August 1936 ] was a Spanish poet, playwright, and theatre director.

Lorca achieved international recognition as an emblematic member of the Generation of '27, a group consisting of mostly poets who introduced the tenets of European movements ( such as symbolism, futurism, and surrealism ) into Spanish literature.

Lorca published numerous volumes of poetry during his career, beginning with Impresiones y paisajes (1918). His lyrical work often incorporates elements of Spanish folklore, Andalusian flamenco and Gypsy culture, and cante jondos, or deep songs, while exploring themes of romantic love and tragedy.

With the publication of his poetry collection Romancero Gitano, or Gypsy Ballads (1928), Lorca received significant critical and popular attention, and the following year traveled to New York City, where he found a connection between Spanish deep songs and the African American spirituals he heard in Harlem.

When he returned to Spain he co-founded La Barraca, a traveling theater company that performed both Spanish classics and Lorca’s original plays. Despite the threat of a growing fascist movement in his country, Lorca refused to hide his leftist political views, or his homosexuality, while continuing his ascent as a writer.

Executed by Nationalist forces at the beginning of the Spanish Civil War, his body has never been found.

Guidelines 

Write a new poem honoring Lorca inspired by any one or more of his poems. We feel listing particular 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 Lorca. 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 ( Extreme Content Warning ).   

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

6. In your poem's notes, provide links to the poem by Lorca that inspired yours. Without these, we have no way of determining if you were truly inspired by Lorca or simply swapped fresh words into his existing poetry.

Comp will be judged by Ahavati & JohnnyBlaze.

You have one month; best of luck to all entrants!

Jade-Pandora
Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
Tyrant of Words
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The Gypsy Moon

( after Federico Garcia Lorca )      
 
 
The cream of the gypsy moon
on this night of green, rising
 
to its apex as a deeper blush
of a blood orange that children

cannot eat, to leave it intact
lest the old gypsies mourn.
 
Two lovers walking white horses
on the lake’s shore, are grieved
 
to not sit astride, to admire
the bath of reflected silver
 
on each other’s face from the path the moon has taken.
 
That their love is not welcomed
by the stillborn water, isolated
 
and fading into the green night
while she bleeds in silence,
 
unable to hide in veiled mists
on her veranda of high birth.
 
Written by Jade-Pandora (jade tiger)
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JohnnyBlaze
JohnnyBlaze
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Of The Naked Girl

barely leaning lazily -    
her bare backside against
a poplar tree occupied    
by birds counting two -    
loving doves, I believe    
by the sound of coo  -    
I spied the lady, nude    
raptured in reverie; she    
being no one in particular    
spoke to me without words    
   
I, being of mind to (re)create    
captured with precision that gal    
going about this exhibitionist swoon    
minus hard wood at her soft behind    
or those little feathered friends in love    
or moon and sun likewise perched above    
skied high up until noon    
   
because I could;    
that's what I oft have done    
and continue to do    
   
Thus, during my visit begun    
as an audience of one    
I drew, prefering to draw    
what I see as it was when I saw    
with my very own eyes    
without thinking, nor did I think    
she would mind being drawn    
   
And there on the lawn sketched in
leaves browned and grass greened  
was another lass, naked, leaned   
ass against another poplar tree    
preoccupied by another pair of doves    
continually shrinking    
   
And without a shadow of doubt    
I knew each was the other    
going about in their swoon    
being no one in particular    
raptured in reverie up until noon    
   
speaking softly to a moon    
barely yet slowly blinking    
   
captured oftly by the sun    
unthinking    
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
#FedericoGarciaLorca    
   
 
Written by JohnnyBlaze
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Non-entry

Ahavati
Ahavati
Tyrant of Words
United States
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Singularity ( after Federico García Lorca )

Many things shall be said
once I'm deceased—  
maybe what I actually wish:
 
one hundred year-old elms
  grow blueprints in dust and ash—    
boney ringlets annually; listen
  then understand.  
 
Damaged grass bleeds  
  green leaf volatiles, golden
copper across dry air—  
a distress signal:  
  self-preservation, SOS  
  against inflicted injury.
 
Death breeds Truth  
  despite how unwelcome its fingernail
picks your secret’s lock,  
  hidden down the chimney’s throat.  
 
Accept his burgundy content    
  staining plush carpet—  
  wine-glassed communion:  
    body, blood  
  offering Genesis of birth.  
 
Every existing thing alters to live—  
  marinates slowly inside change.      
Everyone gestates hungry until dead,  
  though not from hunger itself;  
  but, for Life instead.    
 
See? Nothing was about me personally;  
  I am no singularity.  
~  
 
#FedericoGarcíaLorca
Written by Ahavati
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non-entry

snugglebuck
snugglebuck
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United States
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When Silence Speaks

Silence speaks volumes
With words unheard
Silence begets silence
For all becomes hushed
As every ear strains to hear
Silence's every word
 
#FedericoGarcíaLorca
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: 155

A Solitary Rose

( after Federico Garcia Lorca )
 
 
A dark seraph, and a black horse,
riding the one without a broken wing.
 
My heart is an orange,
drawn and quartered in sections,
 
succulent and ready for midnight
to take in my breath of desire
before I succumb to the scarred
sunken pits in the garden
 
that death haunts, that knows
the way is far beyond Córdoba.
 
But not for me, like a songbird
who sings of my pain,
not of the love I have to give it.
 
 
 
#FedericoGarciaLorca
Written by Heaven_sent_Kathy
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PoetsRevenge
PoetsRevenge
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Gaela Of The Remembrance Of Love (Orchard Of Remembrance)

The heavy fruit lay  
against bare branches,  

All night long,  
quinces of pain growing

Like difficult dreams  
crowding each other.  
 
White lillies of chalk  
hide from the dogs  
 
Who stalk their poisons  
in dreams of remembrance  
 
In my secret orchard,  
windswept in Night's greenery.  
 
Like tulips in January  
I sleep in frost's hibernation.  
 
As a tremor I am kept  
by pains of a bleeding rose.  
 
Sometimes the night is a wall  
that prevents me from knowing darkness,  
 
Sometimes my eyes are but winds  
through Death's orchard of remembrance.  
 
      .....

#FedericoGarciaLorca
Written by PoetsRevenge
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nomoth
nomoth
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United Kingdom
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Forum Posts: 80

lambs ears

(When Dark Doves Fly competition)  

wrested from a flight
I whispered back, each stem’s name
that had fermented in her perfume.  
a collapse of my head  
upon her nape of morning mist,  
where blood had flowered  
anabatic musks; guiding me  
under a nettled raiment.  
 
…and I shoplifted, scruffed this moment  
and placed it into the crosshairs

 my on/off switch  
 
 
as her flushed spine, unzipped  
with heavens weight crumbling.  
caryatid; from whom each cracked pore  
poured red dusted sand  
leaking through much  too clumsy fingers  
in learned helplessness.  
I lost her to a finer mosaic.  
 
#FedericoGarcíaLorca
Written by nomoth
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Magnetron
Magnetron
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Of My Lovely Dark Dove

 
 
Incomplete, always downloading
downloading futures throated
with the thick, streaming sap  
secreted by this laurelle branched  
Universe of Possibilities -  
that foreboding Virgin Territory;  
unpenetrated, lubricated space  
between legs of Mother Cosmos    
suns and moons are destined to end  
in continued collision course with;  
Where Time and When Space bend  
over in submission, commencing      
Comprehension's asteriod belting;  
Awareness's anal cabal in-itiation    
jacking into Mainframe backdoors  
hacked, hacked until Access Granted  
releases silhouetted white birds  
from a bourgening flock of    
Unrealized Identities; their glorious  
wholesome exponential potential    
shattering the glass ceiling of Humanity  
in a sky darkly  
And of the dark doves  
as they fly, from my Jupiter outpost  
I wave as she goes by, seemingly    
nothing more than a nude girl  
with starry eyes, a constellation prize  
straddling Europa's continued whirl  
while grasping firm handholds of  
Ganymede's beautiful, erected    
terrain in his Natural State  
For Ex-Machina is Ava and she is  
more than human, less than android  
in the darkly sky stationed above;  
my lovely dark dove in anticipation  
incapable of prolonging the arousal  
always downloading, downloading  
Life    
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
for Ex-Machina ( Ava )  ❤
   
 https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poets/Ex-Machina/  
 
#FedericoGarciaLorca
 
 
Written by Magnetron
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Non-entry

slipalong
slipalong
Fire of Insight
United Kingdom
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Flamenco #Frederico Garcia Lorca

Castanets, pulsing blood and coursing
Regina for the veins
Stabs a rhythm
Passion of ivory carved outlines
Deaths arrogance the haughtiness caresses
Cuban heels, hearts stamped crashendo
Puppetiers we danced
To winds that strummed
Plectrum on the strings of fate
Rat-ta-ta long fingers that gesticulate
Bare the beast of inuendo
Flames that lick from our flamenco
That we will kiss in love and hate
Written by slipalong
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PoetsRevenge
PoetsRevenge
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Forum Posts: 219

Adam (Tree Of Life)

Tree of wine in
passion's early glare,
not forthcoming of dawn,
engorges fevered veins.
 
The coolness waits
among seedless worries,
in sorrow's early light,
beam of the Moon's flight.
 
Adam, dreaming,
sees a child aloft
piercing the apple of his cheek
where the woman groans.
 
She, in morning's blood
soaks the sweet clay
under the tree of life,
burning in the mists of day.
 
   .....
 
#FedericoGarciaLorca
 
(a non-entry)
Written by PoetsRevenge
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JohnnyBlaze
JohnnyBlaze
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Just a heads up, Folks.

Ahavati and I are now advertising the Classic Corner comps directly on our website

http://PoeticMedics.com

with the intent of announcing the winners, linking to the winning entries and promoting future comps in the hopes of expanding your readership.

Individual pages for each comp will added soon similar to our NaPoWriMo 2019 page:

http://PoeticMedics.com/napowrimo_2019_poems.html


Ahavati
Ahavati
Tyrant of Words
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Attencion: Firstly, we now have a Classic Corner Discussion Thread:

https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/speakeasy/read/10855/#448901

Secondly, we're putting the final touches on the Classic Corner edition of our website.  Each comp will look like the screenshot above.  The icons will link back to your winning poems.  If ANY previous CC winner, or current competitor, does not wish to be on featured, please message us immediately.

You can view the site updates here: http://poeticmedics.com/index.html

We've only added winners to Gibran and Addonizio as examples for you to view. We will be adding the rest this week.  It is our hope that this will give you more exposure as a writer and drive fresh members to the site.  Many of our NaPoWriMo participants experienced double and triple views on their featured NaPo Poems.  

While your poetry will not be featured on our alternative social platforms - the link to our classic comps will.  

A huge heads up to Johnny for working so hard to have this completed by June ( or, should I say tolerating my design preferences alterations ).  


MaryWalker
MaryWalker
Thought Provoker
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My Lovely Dark Doves

 
 
Hark, my lovely dark doves
I wish to park my head against
your feather pillowed breasts
and rest comfortably  
between sun and moon
listening to heartbeats of yours
causing mine to swoon;
 
I could not love
anyone more
 
On all fours, in beggary
exposed, I am poor  
faced with mortality
What's a soul to do?
 
Make this my grave
I say to all of you  
watching over me
 
Let the sun be your  
throats I am swallowed by
Let the moon be your
tails I am buried into whole
feather pillowed breasts  
be where I'm laid to rest
 
Make this the grave
for my soul so poor

my lovely dark doves
 
Anyone more
I will never love
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
#FedericoGarciaLorca
 
 
 
Written by MaryWalker
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PsycoticMastermind
PsycoticMastermind
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Deja vu Rendezvous

 

Not likely partridge or finch
perhaps roller pigeon
definitely a Starling in stakeout
perched on laurel branch

in a public park peering
through a pair of binoculars
at man camped on bench
twilght hour grown dim -

Look!
at what she's done to him!
It's almost criminal

Going out on limb
myself, I'd say,
It's subliminal

Spray on the Luminol -
more than meets the eye
going on in this poem

regarding consonance
and as for the assonance -
that's no coincidence either

Silent as a lamb
on the lam far from home

I am the sun
You, the moon

crepuscular, creeping up
from behind throughout June

See how they run in the dark?
How they dance in the sky?
Keeping distance above
far from one another;
in love, a seemingly
forbidden romance

Now, fly, fly, fly
away, little Starling
I promise we'll meet again
soon
and not by chance;

then and only then
I shall kiss you on the lips
during a dark dove day;
our very own private eclipse

We'll dine on vintage saps
during late nightcaps suckled
from that laurel tree's cleavage
you and I both know is just a
metaphor

Underneath its leavage
we'll meet again
same as before
in
deja vu rendezvous









#FedericoGarciaLorca


Written by PsycoticMastermind
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