Poetry competition CLOSED 5th August 2019 00:44am
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inechoingsilence
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You, Yourself

DCLXVI_1989
DCLXVI_1989
Garrett Asa Hughes
Thought Provoker
United States
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Joined 17th Aug 2017
Forum Posts: 26

Poetry Contest

Your favorite poem you've written.
The one that says your name.
The one that when you reread, is the most fun, inspired, raw, or impresses yourself.
Your top dawg numero uno.

I hate to make this a competition honestly, but i would love to see the best of the best by the best (Which is all of you) all in one place.
Maybe for my own awe or inspiration. Maybe for yours as well. But very much for, so as i can further envelope myself in this great community. Thank you.

"Another one of the old poets, whose name has escaped my memory at present, called Truth the daughter of Time."

Aulus Gellius (125 AD – after 180 AD)

DCLXVI_1989
DCLXVI_1989
Garrett Asa Hughes
Thought Provoker
United States
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Joined 17th Aug 2017
Forum Posts: 26

Non-Existant

The anti-liar -
You claim resides in fire -
Teach yourself to be held higher -
By the will of your desire -
Not pray to nonsense golden spires -
Disregard all lies from the choir -
Be your own knowledge igniter -
Always question, never tire -
 
They say beware the demon -
For it holds the keys to freedom -
And if you speak against, it's treason -
You fear they'll label you a heathen?-
Well my friend, it's passed, that season
Give me one logical reason -
Why you continue to try and please them -
If god spoke direct, I still would not believe him -
 
Hide behind your cross shit -
The bible holds you hostage -
To believe means you have lost it -
Belief system that is caustic -
Poison words that spit out toxic -
Spoken by, your held high, false prophets -
Learn of truth and what is honest -
Then you'll see you are unharnessed -
 
When one last time you close your eyes-
To find nothing of promised paradise -
Yet you continue to sacrifice -
Your entire wasted, discarded lives -
Begging to lords just like a peasant -
In time of death you will regret it -
Until your gods repent -
For being fraudulent -
 
Instead it's the Earth that's inherited the meek -
As you fight over mythical beliefs -
Following falsity, not truth you seek -
Whatever happens to come most easily-
Herded like some kind of fuckin' sheep-
Needing to be looked after weak -
Truth to them is heresy -
If that's the case, beware of me -
 
While you point hypocritical fingers -
At any and all non-believers -
I challenge you to instead delve deeper
Becoming your own truth seeker -
For fear of mortality -
Seems you have lost all sanity -
As they have skewed totality -
god's unneeded for morality -
 
Listen to what i say -
Live your life not for a grave -
Just acting good for heavens sake -
As if it's needed to behave -
If not free, you are a slave -
Only through self, can you be saved -
Do not fear a god of rage -
Punishing all for his mistakes
Written by DCLXVI_1989 (Garrett Asa Hughes)
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inechoingsilence
inechoingsilence
Thought Provoker
United States
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Joined 17th Apr 2019
Forum Posts: 307

Deceptive Fraud

I illuminate my mind with devoted logic
Never again will I passively ascribe  
to temporal promised salvation
I cleanse my eyes with holy water
ridding myself of pining reverie
 
Fake cult with fakest prophet
phony zealot, trickster- leader
Your immaculate love for all
utterly rank, tainted sanctimony
cherished creed an evil chimera
 
Multitudes adore, worship you
Impoverished individuals fall
face down to the ground
still giving beyond their means
hoping for a sliver of affection
 
You preach acceptance, love
Be kind to all best as you can.
Everyone is so equal, so special.
That’s the rancid snake oil you sell!
Those able to purchase your favors?  
evidently are just a bit more beloved.
 
You weep bloody crocodile’s tears
as dejected devotees, many deprived,
of any way to reach your affections
depart, feeling worse than before.
Disillusioned, distraught, denied of
pure friendship gospel, benevolence.
Salvation for love-starved lonely souls
Your liturgy, your anthems, your smile
sickened so many sorrowful spirits.
 
Answer me this, big-tent showman
how do you meet your gaze in the mirror?
When your eyes reflect the lies told
to get your filthy tickets and trinkets sold?
 
Your mouth spills out lies and cries  
of being oh-so misunderstood
I heard you mighty fine, sinnerman
you just can’t deceive anymore.
 
I am onto your wicked design.  
Don't think I won't call for curtain
showing all the one behind the scam
 
Innocent people, looking for scraps
of love, kindness, acceptance fall
for your good looks and pretty words
We all want to feel special somehow.
To prey on the young and innocent
is a heinous crime you can never undo.
 
But I, once inside, who chose to leave
can rescue poor unfortunate souls
Show them the mirror of purest truth
That their self-worth, respect, esteem
priceless to them, is worth pennies to you.
Written by inechoingsilence
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mysteriouslady
mysteriouslady
Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 11th Aug 2012
Forum Posts: 2088

A description of me, as what I think I could be,  if I were a Poet

lay it all down  
steadily  
heavily  
make em hot
or maybe not  
while they feel and read  
make em all internally bleed  
when they reveal  
knowing the feel  
of drugs, sex  
and fuckin rock n roll  
as feelings take their toll  
not making a claim  
feelin like much less  
than any fame  
really kinda fucking lame  
then theres hearts  
maybe dead flowers  
making me wanna hollar  
what the fuck is this  
is there something I missed  
inner turmoil and emotions  
being spewed and hissed  
when all we want is to be cherished
at special times  
like with a master and his whip  
or a deep orgasm's afterglow  
especially when  
that four letter word "love"  
is tossed around like a salad  
on a hot summer's sweaty eve  
did I say I was hungry muther fucker?  

hinescourtney801
hinescourtney801
Courtneyy
Lost Thinker
United States
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Joined 17th July 2019
Forum Posts: 15

Her

Her presence grants me a serenity i cant explain.
My cheek bones weak at the sound of her name.

I try to erase thoughts of her, but my mind’s defiant.
i want her, but cant have her, im fighting my feelings in silence.

She pays close attention, one thing we have in common.
I want to act on my intuition, but i need to proceed with caution.

Her heart seems generous, kind and true..
A more intimate relation could be taboo.

Im becoming nervous when she's in my space..
like when your mom calls your full name and your heart begins to race.

Her crown made of dreadlocks, just like mine.
A waterfall cascading her back, i envy them caressing her spine.

Her spirit subtle, but i can't but notice.
She makes my mental scrabble, i can't keep my focus.

I want to taste her lips, but i dont think it'll come to pass..
If given the chance i wouldn't surpass.

To cuddle and watch films, netflix and chill.
No pressure or persuasion I want her, to want me at her own free-will.

I know this may only be fiction and fantasy..
Maybe one day, we run away and make it a reality.

©️Courtney Hines
Written by hinescourtney801 (Courtneyy)
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LUUH19
LUUH19
Emeraldia
Thought Provoker
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Joined 5th Aug 2014
Forum Posts: 71

Bird

He was fucking him?!  
She started laughing at her husband like he was a comic
he choked her till she stopped
breathing into her lungs  
couldn't bear the itching truth anymore that she never loved him  
looking into her eyes as she walked in and saw them  
he was caught by surprise when she started laughing like a child  
then the surprise turned to rage  
he couldn't make her feel betrayed  
he couldn't make her feel anything  
the last time he fucked her, cat was made  
he was curiously engorged with furor  
he wanted her to feel  
how she made him feel for the last faded years  
and in that split second, he was a puppet to the devil  
the love couldn't stop the once sealed up core hatred  
releasing it in a single moment  
her eyelids opened wide, her face was blood shot red  
she stared at him with a suffocating voice  
but she didn't struggle  
as if this was better than the life she was living  
now in a freezer with her eyes still open  
her coldness within matching her skin  
she despised her teenage daughter  
she saw her as her stolen youth was found on her  
she saw him as nothing  
her husband noticed it but he said nothing  
she didn't love him, both knew that and they told kat  
Kat was fucking the front door neighbor  
and he was caught fucking her father.
Written by LUUH19 (Emeraldia)
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LUUH19
LUUH19
Emeraldia
Thought Provoker
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Joined 5th Aug 2014
Forum Posts: 71

Forget this one, it's not my numero uno. I will post my favorite one that I know by heart.

LUUH19
LUUH19
Emeraldia
Thought Provoker
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Joined 5th Aug 2014
Forum Posts: 71

Revolver

If I wither away with every last fall of the autumn leaves
I will come back with winter to see no change
In the metamorphosis of no evolution  
The after burn jejune escalading to nowhere  
Putrid smell concentrated of the platitude  
We are still in our mother's womb  
Trying to envisage utopia, but living a life of decadence  
Cradled with fluids that supports us    
Dependent, waiting to be fed    
   
I hate the smell of the swap, full of dead hope    
Every day it thickens, altering nothing  
Forgotten as the elixirs before it  
Spitted out as sputum by the ones on the throne  
They are playing psychopaths to our form    
   
If I die today, it will be my fall  
But tomorrow is today    
Immortal stuck on the lone brick mind  
Nothing to be noticed  
A mutation that has been removed  
   
Immature, their sense of state    
Greedy minds, they populate    
A never ending replication  
A defect with no cure  
Always change being a no  
Déjà vu will be the eyes worst foe.  
 
Written by LUUH19 (Emeraldia)
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spacemod69
spacemod69
Twisted Dreamer
Australia
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Joined 13th May 2019
Forum Posts: 8

Why Do I Love You

 

Why do I love you?
Is it because of how you look?
You are beautiful from head to toe
In every cranny and nook
Your loveliness shone out to me
From the first time we met
That feeling's only grown stronger
It hasn't left me yet

Why do I love you?
Is it because of how you feel
Your outpouring of emotions
That you release with zeal
You have the biggest, sweetest heart
That is overflowed with love
Giving to all and everyone
Wanting help from no man's glove

Why do I love you?
Is it because of how you think
Never afraid to self-express
Against some other click
The values that you hold close
Make you the woman that you are
Out there amongst the millions
The brightest shining star

Why do I love you?
It's because of all of this and more
You are the key that went into my lock
To open up my door
The piece of missing jigsaw
That made my picture whole
I love you always, every day
With all my heart and soul
Written by spacemod69
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wallyroo92
wallyroo92
Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 11th July 2012
Forum Posts: 1321

A Road of Metaphors

My poetry has been a disguise of phantoms and recollections,
Fantasies fused with realities and some differences I can’t tell,
They’ve been obscure secrets escaped through innuendos,
Implicitly in coded language loaded with ghostly bombshells.

And some never went off…

It’s been a road of metaphors filled with similes and analogies,
Allusions to the illusions of the near madness that I bore,
Allegories of the freed confined mind resigned to stay silent,
Yet a little bit of it bled through the wounds and on to the floor.

They’ve been the expressions of lonely glumly feelings,
Endless streams of daydreams of my subconscious thought,
Reveries of love and anger ranging from passion to languor,
To euphoric epiphanies and revelations I used to plot.

It’s the journal to my life’s story without the fame or glory,
The reflection and hindsight to the past I sometimes forget,
Comical chronicles of the years, some of laughter, some of tears
And of the paths overlooked and chosen, and people I met.

I go back and read about:
Fifteen year old me and how silly I used to be,
Twenty year old me and how naïve I was back then,
Thirty year old me and how lost and scared I was,
Present old me and how I’m still trying to reach my Zen.

And I wonder about older me and if I’ll be a little wiser,
Maybe senile, maybe shrewd, perhaps ruthless and yet calm,
Writing better then old times dropping nuclear power rhymes,
Maybe then my message will come across louder than any bomb.
Written by wallyroo92
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Layla
Layla
Fire of Insight
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Joined 3rd May 2018
Forum Posts: 1216

AspergerPoet56
AspergerPoet56
Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom
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Joined 4th Dec 2018
Forum Posts: 1406

A Fingerprint A Unique Stain

It’s autistic pollution
A new world evolution
Forget normal
We are the new viral strain
A fingerprint a unique stain

As the zombies fight to find a cure
Our genes are the ones pure
Tried to outcast the strange
Gave us all a label
No comprise on the table

We imagine more than you think
Maybe a mutant link
Alien first contact
We where cut against the grain
That rewired our brain

When humanity has leapt forward
Autism was given no credit or reward
Seen as the burden
Einstein, Jobs, Turing ripped up convention
They left the box behind for true invention
Written by AspergerPoet56
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RevolutionAL
RevolutionAL
Alistair Plint
Dangerous Mind
South Africa
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Joined 24th July 2012
Forum Posts: 941

I digress

I digress
I was gardening
It is spring after all

I love husbandry,
sprouting life from seed
fostering grass
to a carpet
of accomplishment

There’s something therapeutic about
being occupied in fresh life

I find pruning and watering
compost and fertilizing
much like parenting really
You nourish
You nurture
You protect
They mature - they respond
with buds of colour
Strength in their trunks
Rich texture to their leaves

I digress
So I was gardening

An automobile which must have been
as old as the driver
white haired
crinkled skin
abrasive hands
broke down, outside my gate

Rattled it’s side panels
like a belly dancer’s
shimmy-shake
I love dancing
any dancing
I find rhythm and timing
movement and discipline
much like parenting really
You prepare
You practice
You perform
when it’s most needed
They laugh, sing
and learn from
the allegiance

I digress
So I was gardening

This gentleman
eighty in the shade
Gets out of his car
starts to try and push it
up the road

I do my running, jump and sprint
to assist
tell him
to get in to the car
I push this
vehicle up the road
to his house

We stop
We discuss things
things like
the cost of living
the petrol pump
on his car
(Its apparently no good
and he can’t find a new one)
We discuss his children
they changed their religion
then stopped talking to him
Not because he has issue
with the new faith
But because he won’t join theirs
[I think there is something in that]
We discuss his late wife
I see undying love in his eyes
as he speaks.

He offers me coffee
damn it’s
cheap instant
but it’s the best coffee
I’ve had in ages
There’s something
lovely about coffee made with care
I sip at it
he gulps it down

Gets up
opens the car bonnet
starts sucking petrol
out the fuel pump

I stand staring
He says

“You digress
you were gardening”

I love old people
There’s something liberating
in their raw honesty
the life they’ve lived
educates us
Much like parenting really

I digress
I was gardening

I love gardening
life happens
in a garden

-x-
Written by RevolutionAL (Alistair Plint)
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poet Anonymous

Related submission no longer exists.
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/308475-rampensau/

Rampensau

Some days I wake  
and it’s just there  
   
rising from my throat  
like a belligerent God  
sucking down despair  
   
and I race  
to the green light  
having not slept  
because, poetry  
   
and I haven’t showered  
because,
poetry  
   
and I haven’t dressed  
because  
   
the words need  
to fire out like bullets  
and there’s no place  
I’d rather be    
than where I feel  
   
just like home.    
   
This  
   
this is    
my house  
   
all of it -  
broken  
crumbling  
desolate    
   
but it’s mine  
none the less.  
   
Thinking  
makes it so.    
   
The Germans    
have a beautiful    
word for this  
flavour of chaos:  
   
“rampensau”  
   
the wild animal  
of the stage  
at home under  
the spotlight  
   
the puppeteer    
of the microphone,  
the slayer of crowds  
and public spaces  
   
the truth tellers,  
the vocal aficionados    
waking every morning    
to brush their teeth  
with poetry  
   
to piss    
poetry  
   
to shit poetry  
or get off  
the damn pot  
   
...well  
   
that’s an entirely  
more British expression...  
   
but I    
like to believe  
our melded flags    
can teach us  
the real meaning    
of what it is to live  
   
to write  
   
to wake up every morning  
and make your life  
the poem  
   
bled from veins  
to sound waves    
   
fearlessly skinned  
in the real.

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