Poetry competition CLOSED 7th July 2019 1:45pm
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Doppelgänger: the DUP Oscars

poet Anonymous

Get Here If You Can

Get Here If You Can
Close your eyes, hear my sentiments as they cross faraway lands
A hard felt contender  
For a soft pillow of surrender  
Don’t be scared, shh, never be afraid  
Now that echoes are a silent serenade  
Emotions now hiding behind a quiet masquerade  
A never ending female’s dominating charade  
Once had it made  
Dopamine was the game, mentally parlayed  
No one is getting compensated for words portrayed, or displayed  
Get Here If You Can  
By car, bus, or a Boeing airplane  
You can reach me by surfing the waves of honey streams  
Feel the heat of unwavering passion as you touch me when you daydream  
Heart concealed in veiled clues  
Minds afloat playing by society Check Mate rules  
Get Here If You Can  
Cross the desert dunes of the Egypt sands  
Footsteps guiding through the everglades  
Marching behind a brigade  
By a Helium Balloon floating in the sky  
Much closer than a goodbye, I tell you no lie  
Get Here If You Can  
Waiting for a spark of romance  
Closely matched mental dance  
Much given space  
Bowed out under grace  
For now, still privately mine  
Don’t worry, my motto, all in due time  
Get Here If You Can  
Cross the Red Sea as a pirate, deliver your treasured pleasurable plan    
Breathless waiting  
The canvas of my body, your finished painting  
No words, as we’re physically relating  
Stagnated breaths in a steamy shower  
Warm water cascaded over two combined bodies in the midnight hour  
Reach me by the stars in the sky    
Come unto me where inner spirituality resides  
Down there too many earthly questions outweigh the whys  
Strong arms needed to hold  
Journey through the storms to comfort me, mentally console  
Get Here If You Can  
Enrapture and dignity felt for a hero within man  
A horse carriage, inclining steep hills through Mother Nature’s challenging weather  
Touch compared to a caressing silken feather  
Keeping bodies and entwined souls together  
Where he stands, where he lays  
Heavenly nights as bodies set ablaze  
Love, Hugs, Kisses, and Rubs, what a fitting intoxicating phrase  
As you enjoy the inner depth of my cerebral cortex maze

This recognition is dedicated a poet who captures my heart with such a tender emotion, eloquence with the heartfelt stanzas for which he stands on. Mentally memorizing lyrics to capture the breath. A friend, a poet, and beautiful afterthought, always


poet Anonymous

1: 01: Overture - Composition on Maintaining True Love

It was through death I learned of True Love,    
the separation of flesh from my tangible being.  
I hear you breathing with the earth, dormant    
winter cold and punctured breath of thaw;    
bursting capillaries of bleeding dirt.    
When you dissolved, I became mechanical---    
a living existence of programmed grief ...    
I couldn’t remember love, I longed to love again.    
But how to love what no longer exists was foreign.    
I turned to paper, there was no return to me -    
to anything that made sense, only blankness.    
You are still here through vibration of sound-    
and yet I cannot touch your physical form    
anymore than I can hold the wind tangling my hair…    
I can only touch the result: that thing the wind moves.    
Sometimes I felt dragged, as yesterday’s daydreams    
remembering, remembering always you are gone.    
But, though you have descended you have risen    
to remain my encouragement; you are within me    
and here shall remain for eternity…seeds have taken root    
in my heart despite your seeming absence.    
I believe it is the cycle of love, indestructibly growing    
dreams from those seeds through living words.    
Love is an eternal vibration I now feel---    
the pervasive humming of light is how I know you.    
It is the space, the separation that makes us:    
the known unknown fading from form    
to another, always returning to continue---    
as one wind follows the other, and more water    
flows under the bridge of new moments,    
True Love is becoming the story despite circumstance    
it is immortality through the sharing of words.    
PoetsRevenge is an amazingly intense poet who couples human mortality with spiritual immortality.  She takes the unmaking of life to portray it is that very unmaking which makes us who we are. I have always been in awe of her writing ability to delve deeply into topics we may not want to face.  She stirs the uncomfortable inside us with hope and adds love with words.    
poet Anonymous

My Phantom Lover Part I

Tonight, is the night
Twinkling stars kissing the galaxy are within sight
Remove the armor
Let lips speak, seduce me into bliss, you smooth poetic charmer
Truth or dare
King’s castle, Queen’s sultry flare
No one here but you and I
Soar my mind, my soul, the temple of my body past the majestic sky
No founded reasons, so please don’t ask me why
Come, as you further explore the gentle foundation
Minds coming together with deeper and meaningful revelations
So true you are, so intellect, so serene
Magnetic attraction to indulge all my sweetest and bewitching mysterious
One of these days, I refuse to aim my lover’s bow or hide
The need in me moves me closer to your manly side
Falling upon such a hard gift as you dip, slip in, and then hungrily glide
Every true hero needs a platform, a rose so red
Beautifully souls dancing in good stead
Spellbinding words caressed as if tenderly felt, gently spoken
Passion to love has been awoken
I was like a song so out of key
Then you came and gave my beautiful soul a melody
Bodies entwined on a silken covered bed
Shh…just forget what we’ve said  
Feel with your heart not your head
Surrendering my will under your strong explorative hands
Mm, a very handsome man, with explicit demands
I think, therefore, I see, I softly feel
For one night I would love to be the imaginary of your nightly rapid thrills
Vintage wine sipped by soft candlelight
Passion, the lust of desires given unto you with all my softly might
Don’t worry I tenderly scratch, not bite
The beautiful music is getting louder
Desires, passion a gift unto a woman’s power
Keep turning me on
My mind seduced by the lyrics of a lonely clandestine song
Before I met you, my sun refuse to shine
Then all the warmth suddenly caressed me from behind
My Phantom Lover

My first, my last, my everything, enough said on such a beautiful matter; a mind is a terrible thing to waste and for such an intellectual poet, who contours the heart utilizing such limited stanzas, I must humbly acknowledge, with much respect and admiration. You deserve to walk this red carpet

poet Anonymous

My Tender Liaison

Hold me close as you can
Strong arms to cultivate my Chi, found only in the comforts of this man
Allow fate to write us in the stars  
A feathered touch felt from afar  
My tender liaison understands the concept a woman from Venus, a man from Mars  
Scribble our graffiti of passion among the majestic skies  
The infinity of destiny as we cum together, bound by the most sweetest ties  
A man who tickles my heart, as it pumps so beautifully inside  
Subtle traces of his syrupy  words, coats my existence  
Smiling, blushing, flirting, getting high off the response that’s persistent  
Softly ebbing at my femininity resistance  
My wall is slowly tumbling down  
Rapture on the other side I have peeked, naughty whispers when no one is around  
Honey drippings when felt  
With a slow pouring of maple, God he gets me so wet  
Emotions unhinged, becoming disabled  
Lay me down, feast upon me, as I’m spread eagle on your dinner table  
Foreplay in the cloak of dark    
Where minds, hearts, spirits breathlessly lark  
A handsome vampire who has found his willing mark  
Magnetic attraction sinking deeper  
Souls once entwined, an immortal keeper    
Cannot run, wanting to be caught  
Patience as they say, for greater things once sought  
Calming my curiosity as a moth to that flaming fire  
Panting with a need to feel the depth of his girth’s desire  
Wanting, needing more, a taste to connect in a heated rush  
Closing my eyes to the consumption of his mental lust  
Passion, an illogical behavior  
Honey to Maple… mmm… once combined a sweeten flavor  
A gratifying taste of its remnants  to slowly savor  
Love lashes sinking deep within  
A carnal feeling not found in a thesaurus for our wicked sins  
Kisses adorned all over me  
Mmm.. head thrown back in the throne of celestial ecstasy  
Back arched, body bathing in submission to allow his powers to be  
Write us in the stars
What words could describe when hearts are aflame, souls binding as one, a poet who knows what it takes to seduces the mind of a poetess, romancing hearts in such splendid glory, and mentally engaging while whispering the echoes of tender related emotions. A tender persona for such a charismatic soul. A blessing to call my friend and a great poet
poet Anonymous

A Ribbon In The Sky

Poem Inspired By Stevie Wonder
A Ribbon In The Sky

Dance unto my heart with such sweet tender words    
Take my mind, my body, the yearning for you, I strongly prefer  
Soar my Chi higher than the calling of the morning birds  
Entwined lovers as hearts float through Heaven’s pearly gates  
Let thy will of us blend, ordained by destiny’s fate  
Whispers felt softly carried away on sacred winds    
Caress me delicately as the feel of silken and lace, uniting our Charkas once they mend    
Naked hearts speaks clothed tongues  
Kisses up and down my spine    
Inscribed the poetry of your ink stains on my skin as we become one  
The silhouette of my soul, I breathlessly bestow  
The wondrous found within this time, my presence has reaped to sow    
Love as the sands of time spill forth its beautiful flow  
My cup runneth over, spill of you I shall not    
Taste of me , worship my unspoken tender spots  
In the cloak of night desires sought, drips of ecstasy once caught  
Hold me, uplift my heart, and let me fall into a weaken state of abyss  
Serenade me as a caress felt across the vast galaxy as two souls drift  
Defenseless in its wake as my body comes alive  
A ribbon floating without guidance in the majestic skies  
Grasp onto an end and allow the ties to bind  
Within destiny’s sweetest submission, by karma’s designs    
No end, or start, blind faith only found in the comforts of dark  
Claim me softly upon the veil of the moon, where passion larks  
Brushstroking my naked canvas to create a masterpiece work of art  
Virginal passion I have, until you I give  
Soft cries of surrendering, echoes kissed by the wind  
Pain and passion, such beautiful duality  
Lust its next of kin, feeling the emotions, the hunger, the innocence embedded in its morality    
A song the heart has sung for you centuries ago  
A ribbon in the sky for our love harmonizing in ecstasy  
The gift of me, so unwrap the bow as you please  
I love the window of wisdom from this poet’s intelligent pen and the heights of his beautiful mind. The depth of his stanza is simply spiritual at times, informative, erotic at its best. Worthy of the sweetest ovation. May the sun always shine upon your tomorrows, and cradle your todays, much love to you as well, always  
poet Anonymous

Old Souldjia

Too young for the war, she battles
sword and shield; word and heart
Her scars would break most men
But then again, so would she
Atop a bluff overlooking the sea
heavy armor is stripped away
in solitude and only for a moment
a warrior must fight to be a poetess
Quill cuts spilling thick red ink
running black in the moonlight
The wind hides her secrets
from a world not yet worthy
Beyond the water her love awaits
an embrace she longs to hold
Her soul is old behind young eyes
that see clearly in the dark
Competitions: Doppelgänger and Avatars Amok
Morrigan is a quiet powerhouse of DUP. Her poetry is authentic as hell and full of beauty. Wise beyond her years, tough but still vulnerable, her poetry touches themes of fantasy, nature, love and pain. This tribute is a weak attempt at her style. She’s a warrior poetess.  
poet Anonymous

The Dark Poetess (Inspired by Poetryman)

A new poetess is created
everyday, in my imagination.
To call her is my hearts beckoning,
to love her, a toxicity spewing
from the earths center,
molten hot.
To want her;
a prison I call home ---
(The man cannot love
or he self-destructs; implodes.
So he carries its glitter
to gild every word he pens.)
She hides in each shadow,
between sentences  
and flickers glances
in punctuation;
the poetess teases and
I follow her like  
freedoms harbinger of insanity.
For she feigns love, and in words
is this the tragedy:
She is too fluid to love, her
I cannot catch.
Though, I follow her underground
to bury myself in her  
rhetorical wisdom ---
That she eludes me ever in
the darkness.
Here, the poetess runs away into
her cavernous stories
she wants me to believe;
but I know her too well,
so I resist her taunts, her teases
only to live another day
in the faint daylight.
Sun setting as
I write evoking  
the Dark Poetess;
as she gives me meaning  
and reasons to love her  
this only way,  
even as, furthur down  
she runs away.


poet Anonymous

Umm Roars -- - -For the Comp

The ink hits the page
And instantly turns into
Wonderful artistry
Poems and Prose
They are few  
But all are quality
Self-confessed timidity
And self-deprecation
She attempts to hide  
This awesome talent
Not prideful - she should be
In the shadows
But emanating light
And inspiration
I stand in awe
Viewing masterpiece artwork
Ink, paint, charcoal and pencil
She makes them come to life
Horses dance and strike a pose
Landscapes languish luxuriously
Speaking directly to the soul
Speaking of true beauty
Portraits in pencil real quality
A quality of the photographic
Bringing all expressions
To life exposing her love
True artistry is her muse
My own art steadily improves
But only as a result of her
Influence and inspiration
When I grow up I want
May art to be as good as Umm's
She is a pinnacle to aim for
Though I suspect I she will
Always be the master
And I will be the student
Her poems equally inspirational
All her poems speak to me
In inspirational whispers
Creating poetic thoughts,
Remembrances and challenges
One cannot help being inspired
To write like the wordsmith she is
She is the consummate artist
Overflowing with such talent
Read her poems
Consume her prose
View her art
One cannot fail to be inspired
Self-confessed timidity
And self-deprecation
She attempts to hide  
This awesome talent
But her artistry roars
Beauty and Inspiration

see also
poet Anonymous

The Goddess of DU  -- - -For the Comp

I contemplate her many works    
I ponder her many talents    
And I am in awe    
It is mana from heaven    
Inspiration flows from her pen    
And I am speechless    
She has the voice of an angel    
And sometimes a Hell's Angel    
I listen intently to every word    
She sings with her heart    
With passion and love    
Can't stop myself singing along    
An accomplished musician    
Is there anything she can't play    
I am insanely jealous    
A professional poetry performer    
An inspirational all genre maniac    
I bow to her awesome talent    
Her written word is faultless    
A pleasure to read always    
I am challenged to write    
The beauty she brings to the page    
Masterful and awe-inspiring    
I want to be "Her" for a day    
A strong intelligent woman    
Takes no shit, a warrior    
A Light I see in the darkness    
A Woman full of love and compassion    
Such a genuinely warm spirit    
She is my lighthouse    
A lifesaver a loyal companion    
Always there when dark clouds appear    
I am in her debt    
I am proud to call her my best friend    
A force of nature in all things    
My wee haggis bon-bon    
Literally the Goddess of DU    
There can be only one    
I say, she is the one
see also  
poet Anonymous

Bountiful Land

Beyond borders of average intent
beyond curves of standard limits
lies a bountiful country
with deep running rivers
and mountains few will climb.
Gentle slopes of sound-scaped wisdom
roll down soft mossy ground
encouraging determined walking
as swaying trees shape shadows into sharper relief.
Boulder-rocks dotted across the terrain call for examination
each one chiselled with specific messages for extra learning.
Ripples reflect questions over cool lakes
carried breezily in varied languages of the soul.
Spend time in this country
the land of Ahavati
and when reluctantly returning to your own event
you will take gifts gathered in one of the world’s special oases:
a lightened step
a poet’s smile
a sense of spacious moments, well spent.


poet Anonymous

My Darling Agent Starling

is worthy of the appellations;    
came down from the mountains -
I'm not sure precisely which
despite her origin's being    
posing no mystery to me  
What I can say with great certainty -  
not a body to tussle with; though  
lacking in muscle, weight, height, width -  
she more than makes up for these in  
intuitive regarding brevity  
( fast on the drawl with little fuss )  
logical in her levity  
( if that makes sense teh yah'awl )  
taking down larger than life opponents  
regardless of their criminal behaviour  
or serialized self indulgent celebrity status  
all the while serving up plated poetry that is  
extremely dialectable  
My apologies for butchering her    
Southern accent  
I can just hear her now    
Yah shud'un talk with yah mouth full, Doctah Lectah    
Uhmmmm ..... DELICIOUS  
for Agent Starling ❤ 
poet Anonymous

Two Spirits One Heart

I see her vision on the wind,
A strength that she herself creates.
A modern soul, two-spirit twin,
Yet very old as soul relates.
The medicine is strong she makes.
I see her vision on the wind,
An offering all for the sake
A shaman’s oath of mind within.
A guiding force to which we pin,
To meet as man and woman both.
I see her vision on the wind,
The natives of two-spirits’ growth.
I’m learning how to mend & reach
The healer, and to practice in
Her dedicated ways to teach.
I see her vision on the wind.
TwoSpirit aka Ahavati:
With her other facets of persona on DU, I want to honor one of them that I feel connected to most, though of course the poem is Ahavati.  
For the first several years as a fledgling member, I enjoyed the commonality she and I shared with poetic expressions of indigenous Native American spirituality, stories, tradition & culture. For the opportunity to dedicate, this is what I fall back on which, for me, is a fond & warm place for my words to nest. With renewed affection, ever Jade.
poet Anonymous

She Drips Words

She drips her words like rain and aching cunts,
Her meter perfect, porn; she paints her art.
She's high class, mind of a geisha, She Wolf; hunts,
The detailed devils work in angel's heart.

A sonnet is her chosen poem form,
With words that coax the mind to sultry bliss.
I think of her wrists bound and panties torn,
Imagine strokes of tongue in stolen kiss.

A lover of the arts and sex, with words,
Each line she writes is perfectly controlled,
A banquet of delight like flight of birds,
She wraps her rhyme o'er peaks and folds.

Dark chocolate nights with dotted fresh, white cream,
This bard's word skill is perfectly obscene.

poet Anonymous

Removing Obstacles From Your Empath

The littlest beams of light can go
a long way in the night;  
hold them just right like so  
and oh! say  
Can you can see  
in every direction?
Liberating, ain't it?  
Parses known from unknown;  
strikes un from vocabulary  
Forces of Darkness are farces  
imaginary - monsters under bed  
in closet, cluttering up head  
trespassing mental properties -  
no longer scary  
But you're no good  
you're no good, you're good  
Baby, you're no good to others  
when the flashlight you are  
is loaded with dead batteries  
Come down from the ledge  
Give yourself a break  
especially from those  
who were always fake  
and keeping score  
Allow yourself respite  
Physician, heal thyself  
beginning at home despite  
those knocking down front door  
Stuff yourself already  
Be bursting at the seams  
with joys of poetry, pleasant dreams  
laughter putting you in stitches  
Be the happiest version of yourself  
best possible person you can be  
and so much more  
without all those miserable  
for Tallen

poet Anonymous

finding religion

As she prepares
to handle
her scandal
she agrees
to do me
this solid:
If I ever have dementia
she will come
to where I am
and smother me
with those
gigantic titties
“until you go to Jesus”
A blessing, I told her
“but please,”
I implored,
“do not forget
to baptize me
with the Guadalupe
between your legs”
“I’ll do that first,”
she said
~this one is for inkerpoet, who infuriates me with just how rude transcendent poetry can be~
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