Poetry competition CLOSED 7th July 2019 1:45pm
Go to page:

Doppelgänger: the DUP Oscars

poet Anonymous

{III} Midnight Elixir ~ {Inspired by Shadoe}


Drunk on fetal eyeballs,
cor'd from wilted apples
blossom'd in pink velvet~
my bosom on your shards ov petals
peeled from yesterday's remnants
of us.


Slaughtered renderings
sketch'd in nightshade
billow in the nak'dness
of your curls of agony.
I lick your flaming skin
as you crawl into the
crucifixion of womb~
littered in transgressions,
paradoxes of daylight slanted
along the headstone of
our drawn blinds.


You look away as I
unhinge specks of dust
knawing from within hipbones
where your cheeks rest'd
in bruises of longing~
torn from evergreen promises
untether'd, fray'd by your sacrificial
tongue in ravening
swaying in the bowls of time
in this cross-nailed hourglass
of my loving
and hating you.


This was inspired by Shadoe's amazingly complex merging of love and darkness with subtle erotica notes in her ' He, The Aether' series, a must read

poet Anonymous

The Man from Portugal

I heard about this man from across the pond,
A Mr. Bond, (no not the British secret spy),
A poet posting powerful positive poems,
The kind of work that is rare to come by.

Every time I delve deep diving into a piece,
I often wonder what path in life he’s tread,
The journey that leads to finding peace,
Amidst whispers of beautiful garden beds.

And Mr. Bond continues to work hard and toil,
Stopping to spill some profound thoughtful ink,
Going back and forth from paper to pen and soil,
As if the earth gives him power to make us think.

So the next time you come across one of his poems,
Read slowly and you’ll find them emotionally mixing,
The Man from Portugal will make you feel at home,
When the words are reflective and uplifting.


poet Anonymous

Traveller From Afar


You can tell by that far away  
look in his eyes - the deep thought  
procession carefully treading  
sturdy stepping stones out of  
genuine curiosity and desire  
for pass ported adventure  
into expeditions Unknown;  
for Josh, gates are always open -  
there's no arriving at destination Truth  
through hastily concluded bounds;  
the only leaps being made are those  
in faith that solid ground of poem  
will manifest under sure footedness  
all the while knowing should he stumble  
muses will catch him  
( by surprise if need be )  
inspired by Josh @  
Josh is a Poet of the most extraordinary kind and you could not ask for a better guide along the journey into the realm where mind merges with world.  
poet Anonymous

a blackwolf ringing my door bell

There is a blackwolf ringing my door bell
Banging on my door and it wants in
Howling it revolutionAL howl
To rectify my mistakes and guide me to a better path
There's a blackwolf ringing my door bell
With fur as beautiful as a genus of flowering trees (Melia)
Forever showering me with the sweetest of compliments
There's a blackwolf ringing my door bell
It comes running and running me down
Chasing me down the stream of juvenile 66 butterflies
Chasing me into a poetic tragedy
With words so shakespear-sweet
Sending me into Ely down the cambridgeshire
There's a blackwolf ringing my door bell
poet Anonymous

Hands that yell

Her spirit golden,
She sprinkles twinkling words
Like faerie dust

Words that impact
Like nuclear bombs
Proving that even mushroom clouds
Can hide a shimmering lining

Hands that yell_oh
Always just so


A great inspiration.

Go to page:
Go to: