Poetry competition CLOSED 7th August 2019 11:23pm
WINNER
Anonymous
Anonymous
RUNNERS-UP:
SweetKittyCat5
and inechoingsilence
Who I Am
Poetry Contest Description
Write a poem describing yourself
Hello everyone. It's been a while. This isn't another "A Picture Holds a Thousand Words" competition, but rather something personal.
"Who I Am" is meant to allow the members of DUP and beyond a rare glimpse into who you are as a person. The rules are simple:
1. You must a include a picture of yourself
2. Old writes or new
3. No more than 300 words
4. Be honest, and tell us what makes you the way you are
If you have any questions, feel free to message me.
"Who I Am" is meant to allow the members of DUP and beyond a rare glimpse into who you are as a person. The rules are simple:
1. You must a include a picture of yourself
2. Old writes or new
3. No more than 300 words
4. Be honest, and tell us what makes you the way you are
If you have any questions, feel free to message me.
More than DNA
Where I come from is no easy question
The answer even more complicated
For I am so much more than my ancestry
I was born in the land of the free
yet my soul is old, from foreign lands
I queue, apologize for apologizing, yet
my bluntness borders on breathtaking
A cuppa solves all the world’s problems
So do many shot glasses of ice cold vodka
I come from generations of stiff-necked people
Stubborn, willful, unyielding, even unto death
my race is my religion, I bow before no man
Poets, painters, scientists, innovators precede me
So many geniuses struck with the artist’s disease
I was not spared their fate, I just know to live better
Eccentric, eclectic, experimental, educated, earnest
are just a few words that describe my inheritance
So are manic, melancholy, melodious, magnanimous
If I perished tomorrow, what would be my legacy?
A survivor, mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend
My words, force of will, devotion to absolute truth
will be remembered of me -I ask for nothing more.
The answer even more complicated
For I am so much more than my ancestry
I was born in the land of the free
yet my soul is old, from foreign lands
I queue, apologize for apologizing, yet
my bluntness borders on breathtaking
A cuppa solves all the world’s problems
So do many shot glasses of ice cold vodka
I come from generations of stiff-necked people
Stubborn, willful, unyielding, even unto death
my race is my religion, I bow before no man
Poets, painters, scientists, innovators precede me
So many geniuses struck with the artist’s disease
I was not spared their fate, I just know to live better
Eccentric, eclectic, experimental, educated, earnest
are just a few words that describe my inheritance
So are manic, melancholy, melodious, magnanimous
If I perished tomorrow, what would be my legacy?
A survivor, mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend
My words, force of will, devotion to absolute truth
will be remembered of me -I ask for nothing more.
Written by inechoingsilence
Go To Page
That's What I Am
Pale skin, brown hair, hazel eyes, a few freckles, and a tatto.
That is what I am.
A lover of music, a critic of movies, an author of unfinished novels.
That's what I am.
An ear for listening to your thoughts, a mouth for awkward small talk, a brain for filtering what I really think.
That's what I am.
The lips of a virgin, the hands of a lover, the appearance of a twelve year old.
That's what I am.
A friend to two, an enemy to no one, and a coward to everyone.
That's what I am.
Devourer of knowledge, believer of nothing, writer of nonsense.
That's what I am.
Amateur at archery, proficient in learning new languages, decent at singing.
That's what I am.
That is what I am.
A lover of music, a critic of movies, an author of unfinished novels.
That's what I am.
An ear for listening to your thoughts, a mouth for awkward small talk, a brain for filtering what I really think.
That's what I am.
The lips of a virgin, the hands of a lover, the appearance of a twelve year old.
That's what I am.
A friend to two, an enemy to no one, and a coward to everyone.
That's what I am.
Devourer of knowledge, believer of nothing, writer of nonsense.
That's what I am.
Amateur at archery, proficient in learning new languages, decent at singing.
That's what I am.
Written by A_Failed_Artist
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That's What I Am
Pale skin, brown hair, hazel eyes, a few freckles, and a tatto.
That is what I am.
A lover of music, a critic of movies, an author of unfinished novels.
That's what I am.
An ear for listening to your thoughts, a mouth for awkward small talk, a brain for filtering what I really think.
That's what I am.
The lips of a virgin, the hands of a lover, the appearance of a twelve year old.
That's what I am.
A friend to two, an enemy to no one, and a coward to everyone.
That's what I am.
Devourer of knowledge, believer of nothing, writer of nonsense.
That's what I am.
Amateur at archery, proficient in learning new languages, decent at singing.
That's what I am.
That is what I am.
A lover of music, a critic of movies, an author of unfinished novels.
That's what I am.
An ear for listening to your thoughts, a mouth for awkward small talk, a brain for filtering what I really think.
That's what I am.
The lips of a virgin, the hands of a lover, the appearance of a twelve year old.
That's what I am.
A friend to two, an enemy to no one, and a coward to everyone.
That's what I am.
Devourer of knowledge, believer of nothing, writer of nonsense.
That's what I am.
Amateur at archery, proficient in learning new languages, decent at singing.
That's what I am.
Written by A_Failed_Artist
Go To Page
Physiology of me
What am i?
What can I be?
I am an eccentric person, with whom you can dare to be “You.”
Your soul can be naked with me
Your heart can open its doors, and
Your dreams can flow free with me.
You can always say what you think and feel.
You may breathe freely ----
I will try to understand. I am an excellent listener.
You need not be too careful with me:
You can
____abuse me
____neglect me
____possess me
____tolerate me ---- I will try to like you.
You can
____cry with me
____laugh with me
____drink with me
____sin with me and pray with me.
Through it all I see, know understand and love “You.”
I am your Friend and like a vintage wine,
will mellow and become more valuable with age.
What can I be?
I am an eccentric person, with whom you can dare to be “You.”
Your soul can be naked with me
Your heart can open its doors, and
Your dreams can flow free with me.
You can always say what you think and feel.
You may breathe freely ----
I will try to understand. I am an excellent listener.
You need not be too careful with me:
You can
____abuse me
____neglect me
____possess me
____tolerate me ---- I will try to like you.
You can
____cry with me
____laugh with me
____drink with me
____sin with me and pray with me.
Through it all I see, know understand and love “You.”
I am your Friend and like a vintage wine,
will mellow and become more valuable with age.
Written by Tallen
(earth_empath)
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Dejure
a mask for the emotionless
I wear him
and he wears
many
"a hammer
to nails
a sponge
to cheeks
a feather
in the air
a leaf on
the water
water to fire
and fire to
nonsense
cloaked in
sarcasm"
fighting back
any attack
with an
added force
to penetrate
the ignorance
I face
...till I first
wore him
a shoulder
to my tears
a hand to
lift me up
right part of
my brain
wrong influence
of my soul
still here
we are... in
harmony
I wear him
and he wears
many
"a hammer
to nails
a sponge
to cheeks
a feather
in the air
a leaf on
the water
water to fire
and fire to
nonsense
cloaked in
sarcasm"
fighting back
any attack
with an
added force
to penetrate
the ignorance
I face
...till I first
wore him
a shoulder
to my tears
a hand to
lift me up
right part of
my brain
wrong influence
of my soul
still here
we are... in
harmony
Written by dejure
(vick)
Go To Page
The Painted People
In my cells there is a memory…
of a time way back in history
when my people were warriors...
...formidable...
in their fury and their
need …
to be freed from fear of bondage
...to pay homage to no man…
Caesar fought to overcome them
but he won only the battle
When they played the final act he'd lost the war...
For in the end the Roman Empire
could not oppress the Painted People…
As stated in our history and lore…
As we faded into mystery...they disappeared from history.
And left us only place names and their art to show the world...
...they had been here long before...
They had lived as one with Nature...
since the sacred forest birthed them...
now they've gone to be with Mother evermore...
of a time way back in history
when my people were warriors...
...formidable...
in their fury and their
need …
to be freed from fear of bondage
...to pay homage to no man…
Caesar fought to overcome them
but he won only the battle
When they played the final act he'd lost the war...
For in the end the Roman Empire
could not oppress the Painted People…
As stated in our history and lore…
As we faded into mystery...they disappeared from history.
And left us only place names and their art to show the world...
...they had been here long before...
They had lived as one with Nature...
since the sacred forest birthed them...
now they've gone to be with Mother evermore...
Written by Ely
(E.A.Rothwell)
Go To Page
Anonymous
Related submission no longer exists.
HOW ARE YOU?
I made a tent outside my mind...
Wanna know what I realized?
That downers are annoying , always pleading suicide , or hurting themselves , turning others happy meals sad...
To the point one might shout out "hey you!! if you wanna do it , just do it already!! Just do it already!! Crap get it over with!!! Ughgg!!!
And I am a downer...
Just look at that …
Wrote all that in one breathe without a second thought , not planned just plain out heart...
You are happy
And if I am not helping you pull the load …
Crap then I am adding to it!
Like Raven with a limb …. I am a drag.
I know I am far from perfect...
And this life I far from deserve it
Yeah I know all the motivational speeches like feeding on reheated casserole...
I guess I just feel like I am not breathing anymore
Like I am dead and just going through the motions as it were like a zombie and only thrills I get are from brain encounters...
Or maybe I just lost the sense of it all
Like a blunt needle there is no point to it all...(full circle if you didn't get the point like the needle)
I wanna shake the feeling but like a bear bite every shake tears at my flesh...
I do not mind the physical pain … It is the internal bleeding that gets you.
Hehe it is funny how far my mind can go down this rabbit hole an abyss it is … better to go too far then not far enough...
How can you tell what is light without darkness?
Point is … I do not like the question , how are you?.
Because it brings up all of this...
So if you see me smiling know it is genuine …
That when I laugh it is true..
And that in that moment it is real..
That I have no negative thought in that moment in time .
So please do not burst the bubble by asking that question....
Maybe I am not always negative … Perhaps only when it comes to me …
Which means that you will see a different side of me when I let you in and you get to know me …
And in that very moment you will be right.
Wanna know what I realized?
That downers are annoying , always pleading suicide , or hurting themselves , turning others happy meals sad...
To the point one might shout out "hey you!! if you wanna do it , just do it already!! Just do it already!! Crap get it over with!!! Ughgg!!!
And I am a downer...
Just look at that …
Wrote all that in one breathe without a second thought , not planned just plain out heart...
You are happy
And if I am not helping you pull the load …
Crap then I am adding to it!
Like Raven with a limb …. I am a drag.
I know I am far from perfect...
And this life I far from deserve it
Yeah I know all the motivational speeches like feeding on reheated casserole...
I guess I just feel like I am not breathing anymore
Like I am dead and just going through the motions as it were like a zombie and only thrills I get are from brain encounters...
Or maybe I just lost the sense of it all
Like a blunt needle there is no point to it all...(full circle if you didn't get the point like the needle)
I wanna shake the feeling but like a bear bite every shake tears at my flesh...
I do not mind the physical pain … It is the internal bleeding that gets you.
Hehe it is funny how far my mind can go down this rabbit hole an abyss it is … better to go too far then not far enough...
How can you tell what is light without darkness?
Point is … I do not like the question , how are you?.
Because it brings up all of this...
So if you see me smiling know it is genuine …
That when I laugh it is true..
And that in that moment it is real..
That I have no negative thought in that moment in time .
So please do not burst the bubble by asking that question....
Maybe I am not always negative … Perhaps only when it comes to me …
Which means that you will see a different side of me when I let you in and you get to know me …
And in that very moment you will be right.
Written by Lord_Raven
Go To Page
Psyche of the Dark Poet
Sanity is an unsympathetic creature lurking in our blind spots.
If the dusky rays of Gothic art can’t cast out this relentless foe,
Then our gift of imagination and will of expressionism
will ignite its stalking shadow with a vengeance.
I’m proud to be of another psyche.
Without it, would we write
with such metaphorical beauty?
I think not.
In fact,
all these words
would be ordinary.
The hell with ordinary!
I want my head to whirl around without the sense
of what is in front or in back of me.
Can a head spin 360 degrees?
Imagination could.
It can turn this head again and again
until it screws off its spine and lands by my feet.
Even then, I’m not spitting dirt,
I’m chewing what the world has discarded,
Whether it be taboo or the unspeakable,
it belongs to me.
My words, my feelings, my thoughts,
there’s no defined script for imagination.
Latch the hooks into our mouths
with what you think is true
but they will not open for you
or in a way in which you’d perceive.
The distinct silhouette of reality will be within sight,
the metaphor, however;
will have a shadow which blends
into the most potent of light.
Wherever the creature may lie,
its white eyes illuminated in some dark shadow.
Now and again
its claws sting the outer reaches of my body.
If the dusky rays of Gothic art can’t cast out this relentless foe,
Then our gift of imagination and will of expressionism
will ignite its stalking shadow with a vengeance.
I’m proud to be of another psyche.
Without it, would we write
with such metaphorical beauty?
I think not.
In fact,
all these words
would be ordinary.
The hell with ordinary!
I want my head to whirl around without the sense
of what is in front or in back of me.
Can a head spin 360 degrees?
Imagination could.
It can turn this head again and again
until it screws off its spine and lands by my feet.
Even then, I’m not spitting dirt,
I’m chewing what the world has discarded,
Whether it be taboo or the unspeakable,
it belongs to me.
My words, my feelings, my thoughts,
there’s no defined script for imagination.
Latch the hooks into our mouths
with what you think is true
but they will not open for you
or in a way in which you’d perceive.
The distinct silhouette of reality will be within sight,
the metaphor, however;
will have a shadow which blends
into the most potent of light.
Wherever the creature may lie,
its white eyes illuminated in some dark shadow.
Now and again
its claws sting the outer reaches of my body.
Written by gothicsurrealism
(Daniel Long)
Go To Page
Lineage and Legacy
Lineage and Legacy as one must come to perceive
Those are life’s footprints we deem to conceive
Moments in time we have achieved
As we glance upon a mirror of our reflection
Our eyes, nose, lips, lineage at times comes into question
What makes us the person who we are
From a presence already ordained beyond a constellation of stars
Are we playing out our life on a cosmic screen
Sight and feelings in time unforeseen
Learning in life to keep our noses clean
If God does know all
Then why do we fight our fate when we stumble or fall
From the womb from which life we came
Universal love one and the same
In life that’s the name of the game
Prepared at birth to withstand the stinging rain
Have faith through bodily pain
Never taking the Lord’s name in vain
Echoes of cries, don’t pour your money down the drain
Never to go against the grain
Perilous times has ridden the face of society’s dream
The white picket fence, American’s apple pie wishes, so it may seem
From the dust from which we shall return
While we’re all here we live and we learn
Lessons
Believing in daily blessings
Praying we all put down such deadly weapons
Social media has now become our true friend
Stroking computer keys to emotions we lend
Mental images displayed on screens, never to cease or end
I’m a writer, author by trade
Words sometimes hidden behind a masquerade
My lineage is Haitian, Mulato, French, Creole of old
Midwifes in villages, city nurses generational foretold
Will I leave my mark, my handprints, my footsteps
My written concepts
Media sites with memories of my creed
A dose of reality always to feed your need
My legacy is the signature of my face
As I bow my head in a state of grace
Being vain, never the case
At times, feelings get caught up between a rock and a hard place
Aquarian traits, please don’t blame me
Footloose and fancy free
None as blind as those who will not see
Roots of the soul
Intellectual Creole
Which makes me who I am
Healer, as God’s tempers my land
Legacy and Lineage for me, that’s who
My blanket above I have proudly laid out for you
Those are life’s footprints we deem to conceive
Moments in time we have achieved
As we glance upon a mirror of our reflection
Our eyes, nose, lips, lineage at times comes into question
What makes us the person who we are
From a presence already ordained beyond a constellation of stars
Are we playing out our life on a cosmic screen
Sight and feelings in time unforeseen
Learning in life to keep our noses clean
If God does know all
Then why do we fight our fate when we stumble or fall
From the womb from which life we came
Universal love one and the same
In life that’s the name of the game
Prepared at birth to withstand the stinging rain
Have faith through bodily pain
Never taking the Lord’s name in vain
Echoes of cries, don’t pour your money down the drain
Never to go against the grain
Perilous times has ridden the face of society’s dream
The white picket fence, American’s apple pie wishes, so it may seem
From the dust from which we shall return
While we’re all here we live and we learn
Lessons
Believing in daily blessings
Praying we all put down such deadly weapons
Social media has now become our true friend
Stroking computer keys to emotions we lend
Mental images displayed on screens, never to cease or end
I’m a writer, author by trade
Words sometimes hidden behind a masquerade
My lineage is Haitian, Mulato, French, Creole of old
Midwifes in villages, city nurses generational foretold
Will I leave my mark, my handprints, my footsteps
My written concepts
Media sites with memories of my creed
A dose of reality always to feed your need
My legacy is the signature of my face
As I bow my head in a state of grace
Being vain, never the case
At times, feelings get caught up between a rock and a hard place
Aquarian traits, please don’t blame me
Footloose and fancy free
None as blind as those who will not see
Roots of the soul
Intellectual Creole
Which makes me who I am
Healer, as God’s tempers my land
Legacy and Lineage for me, that’s who
My blanket above I have proudly laid out for you
Written by SweetKittyCat5
Go To Page
Life is a struggle
How do you explain
To a child so young
About what happened that fateful day
Did God intervene
Was it meant to happen
Or were we lucky your life
Wasn't just whisked away
To look on the surface
You'd think everything's normal
Dig a bit deeper
You'll find things quite obscure
A bit slower
Weaker
But that's purely physical
Upstairs where it counts
Seems perfectly clear
That's been my life
For the past fifty years
Sometimes a struggle
Somehow find a way
It may at times need a little
Reorganisation
But don't nobody go telling me
I can't get through the day
To a child so young
About what happened that fateful day
Did God intervene
Was it meant to happen
Or were we lucky your life
Wasn't just whisked away
To look on the surface
You'd think everything's normal
Dig a bit deeper
You'll find things quite obscure
A bit slower
Weaker
But that's purely physical
Upstairs where it counts
Seems perfectly clear
That's been my life
For the past fifty years
Sometimes a struggle
Somehow find a way
It may at times need a little
Reorganisation
But don't nobody go telling me
I can't get through the day
Written by spacemod69
Go To Page
