Poetry competition CLOSED 26th July 2019 8:31pm
WINNER
buddydog
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RUNNERS-UP: snugglebuck and AnonymousBystander

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Unique Places

marina2020
marina2020
Rain Woman
Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 8th Jan 2017
Forum Posts: 85

Poetry Contest

Write a poem based on a unique aspect of a place. It could be about a country, state, town, or any location.
My original idea about this topic was about how unique my state is. Everyone loves maple syrup and creemees. It got me thinking that every location has its own 'thing'. It can be personal to you or something generally known in that area.
*One entry per person
*Keep the length reasonable
*Any type

buddydog
buddydog
Thought Provoker
United States
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Joined 5th May 2015
Forum Posts: 93

The Heart Of Georgia

My grandma taught the golden rule
From inside of a one-room school  
My grandpa drove an old farmall  
So the corn could grow green and tall    
I learned all about life in a pair worn out boots    
When you find your Sunnyside,  you’ll find your roots    
    
You can throw a rock from sign to sign    
But don’t think we’re left back in time    
You’ll never have to call on a friend    
Cause we love each other like we’re kin

Two black marks on a long street    
A Super Sport that I bet you can’t beat    
A blue eyed blonde from the flatwoods    
Down on the Big Sandy it never felt so good    
    
Sunday preachin’, dinner on the grounds    
On the back row with the lost and found    
We all feel so rich when we’re on that land    
Cause it’s were our ancestors made their stand

If you listen when the moon is full
You can hear that guitar squall
You’ll know the foxes are rockin’ the fur-shed wall
Hold on when the Georgia pines start to sway
Cause that piano is gonna play    

We all have a different name, but we’re all the same    
Doin’ the best we can with no one to blame    
They call us country, hillbillies and rednecks    
But I don’t care, you can’t cash their checks
    
All those big cities are just a waste of time
I seen a few, so be careful of the ladder you climb
No matter if you’re from a J, D, or a T-Ville
Never let that concrete change the way you feel
Just be proud you’re livin’...
Unincorporated    
    
Written by buddydog
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poet Anonymous

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AnonymousBystander
AnonymousBystander
Fire of Insight
United Kingdom
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Joined 28th Sep 2018
Forum Posts: 225

English Lane

I sit in the old servants quarters of
an English stately home. Behind the wall,
a partly cobbled green lane which I love.

Going down the lane from this aging Hall
in a wooded glade is a metalled road.
Going right, past a white wash Lodge withal

a scattering of dwellings now bestowed
by this beautiful walk through bright sunbeam.
Toward a bridge under which a burn flowed

where trout swim stationary in the stream
and, sometimes in the woods, roe deer are seen.
Continuing on this road as a dream

especially at dusk, where before we've been.
Road and stream like rod and snake reach a ford,
where two foot trout shimmer, quiver, careen

across to spawn; a sight to be adored.
Where stream and road cross a ford, where we roam -
pleasant and relaxing with health restored.

Along the lane where the trees make a dome,
around the corner and starting to climb,
the single track lane will then take us home.

If I stood up and rotated around:
each way you look, this journey is background.
Written by AnonymousBystander
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snugglebuck
snugglebuck
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 3rd Feb 2014
Forum Posts: 1873

MINNESOTA

Siberian express from the northwest
Blizzard’s fury descends without mercy
Great Gitche-Gumee lake effect
Unpredictable ferocious flurries

Sodas in quilted parkas
With balaclava covered faces
Look like walking grenades
In terrorist masquerade

Thirty below wind-chill
Trapped in a polar vortex
Instantly freezing exposed flesh
Amusing King Boreas Rex

Chisel ice from the windshield
Kick snirtbergs from the wheel wells
Now’s the time to ride and slide
Now’s the time to do or die

Heavy vertical blow
Zero visibility on the road
Just follow the other guy
He’ll know where to go

Go slow you’ll get stuck
Go fast spin like a top
Oncoming traffic will crush
White knuckles a must

The temperature drops into double digits
Hospitals man surgeons in shifts
“If flesh turns black, we must hack”
Noses, ears, fingers, toes, an occasional penis

Causalities mount from fridge
Ice blocks break from building ridges
Killing pedestrians in an instant
On a lake a Subaru becomes a submarine

Teen couple parks on secluded lane
Succumbing to carbon monoxide poisoning
Found days later in naked embrace
Thawing on a table in a city garage

On average colder then Alaska
Frozen like a witch’s tit
Minnesota can be one
Unforgiving son-of-a-bitch!
Written by snugglebuck
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slipalong
slipalong
Fire of Insight
United Kingdom
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Joined 1st Jan 2018
Forum Posts: 616

Cornish cream

My home it lies in the deep South west
Gods country, now lets take a manifest
A peninsular, its toe and foot in atlantics swell    
White clay, that turns upon the potters wheel    
Fine paper without its body has no feel    
The schools of art at their easel's    
Lit scenes, spectacular in coast and field      
Stannary towns and cities where fortunes out of TIN were made    
 The imprint that they left, to antiquate    
Mines worked out and left to flood  
A legacy of industry that non can ever grub   
 On top the engine house, its chimney  soars    
Proudly stands aloft, not the tip of coals black spoil    
On the cliff above the beach, inhabited now      
A film crew, "Ploldark" the romantic lead with bronzed torso    
As rugged as the scenery, wild as the beast of Bodmin moor    
The surf it breaks on the north coast shores    
World champions sparkle on their long boards    
The first steam engine that ran on wheels      
At Camborne's great fare, its replica appears    
I sit and eat my lunch    
Like miners sat in the dark and stench    
A pasty, filled like my county
Its beauty ever haunting me     
With tasty things all meant to please
And now we have lithium beneath our feet
ay me ansom, cream to charge the batteries    
  
Written by slipalong
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SatInUGal
SatInUGal
Kumar
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 31st Dec 2015
Forum Posts: 800

THE BRISTLECONE FOREST CONTINUES TO BURN INSIDE ME

At 10,000 feet
The world takes your words
Away  
  
Pneumatic action slows  
   
The eyes and ears  
Appear to expand  
   
It occurs to you  
To drown in silence  
   
Both heavy and light
Written by SatInUGal (Kumar)
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SweetKittyCat5
SweetKittyCat5
Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 5th Sep 2018
Forum Posts: 629

summultima
summultima
uma
Dangerous Mind
India
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Joined 3rd Feb 2012
Forum Posts: 1293

nzadi o nzere: Land of a River's Gamble/ the C-K Influence

 

 
just with ridiculously miniscule  
of reserve hung in its huge, now  
spatially emptied out gular pouch  
 
a migratory bird
 
swims across salty currents  
& alien smelling vastly  
untested airs  
 
spurs into an approaching irony
 
the dramatic demarcating centric  
imaginarily circling (a)round for long  
 
   -this dragging equatorial line
 
their stealthy dense canopies in an eerie silence ...
indecipherably winking in midnightish notorities  
 
wide-open & giggling whorish wayward river sprints wild  
with thickly clogging logjams alongside the nondescript  
jetsam flotsam  
 
storms ablaze with fiery sun & thunderbolts all at once  
yet the jungle’s juggernaut cartels emerge out of nowhere  
turning earth inside out as the stirred hornets out of nest  
in buzzing bewildered firing spree of spewing vengeance  
 
homes somewhere nearby inundated by tearing down fury  
uprooted cycads & thrown out roofings & all the suspended  
choking dusts of hopelessness
 

 
swirls in a cyclonic haze marring the weary bird's longing visions
whilst a local in distress digs out diamonds beneath the rubbles  
his teeth flash crazy for once brighter than sandy diamonds  
& wait, not just that...also does reach on  
to the dug out mysterious hued minerals..that he  
quickly tightly bundles his stinking hunchbacks to trade...
saddeningly only to the all grabbing  
reigning cartel lords of cruelty  
 
...eventually as if infectiously desperate  
like them, he brutally loots & slays other  
tribe as birth right

 
on his bloody way wherever back drifting fragile as a mere survival
he's goes down as an unaccounted corpse in the arrogant militias’  
power play- the piled up mass-grave pits, eating innocence

 
 
 
the raging red bird in flaming burns
circles the blackening gloomy skies in search of steady greens  
sees only the camouflaging terrains riddled with hypocrisies-
cross-dressed woodfishers & kingpeckers  in elegiac cacophonies  
predacious crocodiles are the mammoth let out garden lizards  
& the simply humbling crows bloat huge as greyly croaking ravens  
 
 
the untamed bird’s
a solo messenger of its own stance  
an ignited apocalyptical Kali’s spark  
to bring down the maddening whole…
those eccentric evolution & thriving abound  
selfish genes- purely in parasitical plunders

 
 
 
 
Written by summultima (uma)
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delanee
delanee
Thought Provoker
Belgium
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Joined 13th May 2019
Forum Posts: 23

Holiday Haiku III

overcome with glee
emotions drip from my eyes
in my Valhalla
Written by delanee
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wallyroo92
wallyroo92
Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 11th July 2012
Forum Posts: 1302

La Libertad, La Libertad

Whenever I have seafood it takes me back
To the smell of the ocean and sea breeze
To the wet black sand and warm waters
Triggering wonderful childhood memories

The palm covered cabanas were full with people
With visitors, vendors, children playing in the shade
Small local fishing boats and nets in the distance
People walking along the water like a parade

Ever since I can remember we used to go there
Captured in pictures of more simple times
The music, the food, the thundering waves
I remember my grandma being in her prime

We’d go to that beautiful black sandy beach
Almost every month like a family tradition
Where the white sand was so hot you had to run
And the weather was just the perfect condition

I recall the fish, shrimp, crab all the good food
There was nothing I would turn down to eat
Coconut drinks, the beer, the cheer, the atmosphere
The sound of cumbias playing in the heat

Photographs of my mother as a young woman
Images of me as a baby in my father’s arms
The hot tropical sun giving me a dark golden tan
It’s just one of my old country’s little charms

Stoney223
Stoney223
Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 3rd Apr 2019
Forum Posts: 83

TRUE BEAUTY OF LIFE

To see the true beauty of what life has to offer one must go were the flowers and trees and plant life grows within in its natural state of being, for have you ever gone to an open field filled with so many flowers of colors of the rainbow, for have you ever notice the trees with its branches reaching up towards the destine skies like arms reaching out to feel the sun rays and the warmth.
    
For to see life in its true form you have to go were the flowers grow untouched and breathing life into the air that surrounds us as human beings, for you must go out into nature to see the true beauty that this world offers just from a seed for with each flower each tree and every plant, it has a purpose and reason for its existences whether to feed or continue with the process of creating of life.  
    For just like every animal of every different type like from the birds that fly to the bears that roam the woods to the smallest creatures like the ants and the bees, for everything in this life has a reason for being even the water that flows through open streams so next time, when you find thyself walking through the forest just take a second and look around you and appreciate all the wonderful creations of this place we call planet earth.
Written by Stoney223
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RevolutionAL
RevolutionAL
Alistair Plint
Dangerous Mind
South Africa
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Joined 24th July 2012
Forum Posts: 941

Flames Burn Quietly.

         
            
           
           
...was walking            
(no particular reason)            
- most the city would    
call it a death-wish    
looking in the eyes    
of street men;    
some wear jail time well    
others, preparing for it            
             
crossed the road.            
Stood in the garden  
of that lifeless church,            
under a jacaranda tree            
meaning something            
in summer months.  
             
The old building smells of piss            
             
the concrete        
flakes like paint;        
pity they    
don't flake together        
cleaning bad graffiti        
off the personality              
             
jumped over            
the short, black steel fence            
             
saw the happy lady              
with a soup kitchen,            
trying to force some  
kind of nourishment  
into kids            
that believe              
glue            
is cheaper than  
life without it.            
             
Greeted her            
she smiled            
wearing friendly air;            
she’d take your lunch            
for someone else,  
given enough time      
(a feminine Robin Hood)            
             
stepped into the  
garden of remembrance            
now overgrown              
in need of a shovel            
and creative vision.            
             
Read a note on  
the parish notice board            
"You missed the bus!"            
it said.            
             
I walked home slowly            
mumbling something  
stupid about              
time travel,            
old churches              
and tattoos          
       
concluded    
the thought process      
in a quotation...    
         
"Sometimes shutting up            
is solace enough".            
             
             
-x-            
 
Written by RevolutionAL (Alistair Plint)
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The place referenced here is Braamfontien, Johannesburg, South Africa.


eswaller
eswaller
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 22nd Dec 2015
Forum Posts: 697

Oakland, Californa

Twenty-seven years of my existence, scattered around and
Hidden within the precious gems of Oakland, where I grew
Up. It is like you keep rediscovering every forgotten nook.
An airport with tearful and heartfelt goodbyes with a hand
That is hard to let go of. With every minute passing through
It gets more difficult to part ways with a place that hooks
You with its charm and hometown feel. It is like luggage,
Lost but then found again among the panoramic views of
The city. The memories that are fresh yet years old, like
The boy I loved here with my heart among the wreckage
And the floorboards that creak beneath my feet. A love
That is lasting longer than the sky’s quick lightning strike.
Written by eswaller
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MadameLavender
MadameLavender
Guardian of Shadows
United States
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Joined 17th Feb 2013
Forum Posts: 5357

Thanks for your patience everyone —we’re waiting for a voting space to open up, then this Comp will go to vote , next.  Please vote in the other comps if you haven’t already so we can get them closed —thanks !

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