Poetry competition CLOSED 25th August 2019 10:10am
WINNER
David_Macleod (14397816)
David_Macleod (14397816)
Clothed
Anonymous
Poetry Contest Description
Write a poem based on a piece of clothing
Here are four images based on clothing found on different parts of the body and in different eras.
Choose one of the images to base your poem on. Where does the image take you? What memories does it trigger? What is the back story?
Be as creative as you like, but your poem should relate directly to one of the pictures.
Rules
• Up to two entries per human being
• New writes only
• Please title your entry
• Please mention somewhere the picture you used as inspiration.
• Erotica is allowed as long as it works for the story
• Video / audio entries allowed
• No word count
• Two weeks
Good luck!
Savor me
Take your time
You have to be meticulous
You can't just feed me Ur meat
If you never marinated it
Odds will favour u
If u add flavour to Ur meat
U can't pound me
Like taking a pound of flesh
Yes I take pounds
Tilting scales for u
But kiss u have to
Cleanse my palate
And I will have me hooked
Wet
Longing
Ready to savor
Ur meat
You have to be meticulous
You can't just feed me Ur meat
If you never marinated it
Odds will favour u
If u add flavour to Ur meat
U can't pound me
Like taking a pound of flesh
Yes I take pounds
Tilting scales for u
But kiss u have to
Cleanse my palate
And I will have me hooked
Wet
Longing
Ready to savor
Ur meat
Written by Pennyndush
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The Yellow Dress
Her make up was immaculate; she wanted to impress
She came to the party in a flowing yellow dress.
Her lovely skirt was long and constructed with a flare;
And as she danced and twirled it rose up in the air.
As her skirt swung higher, those who dared to watch
Could not see any panties to cover up her crotch.
No one dared to ask; if the omission was intended;
Some enjoyed the view, others were offended.
She came to the party in a flowing yellow dress.
Her lovely skirt was long and constructed with a flare;
And as she danced and twirled it rose up in the air.
As her skirt swung higher, those who dared to watch
Could not see any panties to cover up her crotch.
No one dared to ask; if the omission was intended;
Some enjoyed the view, others were offended.
Written by gardenlover
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Related submission no longer exists.
R e d
( a quatern )
‘Twas Sir always liked me in red.
His dainty submissive he learned
Was partial to Sir’s tastes in bed,
To dress me in what he preferred.
We both found this out early on;
‘Twas Sir always liked me in red.
So first we would fuck until dawn,
Then left to go shopping instead.
The lingerie went to my head,
The dresses, the accessories.
‘Twas Sir always liked me in red,
His money kept growing on trees.
But lately we’d fuck in the nude,
I shot him last night in the head.
The sight of the blood on my dude,
‘Twas Sir always liked me in red.
Written by Jade-Pandora
(jade tiger)
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Anonymous
<< post removed >>
SMOKED - - - For the "Clothed" Comp
Tentatively they rose from their trenches
Slowly deserting rickety wooden benches
Surprisingly rifles and guns are left behind
As thoughts of Christmas enter their mind
Such a happy time for families and friends
An apparent cease-fire and making amends
Helmets and coats make good goalposts
A game of football is their Christmas toast
One-nil, one one, two-nil, score unimportant
Laughing, joking, running and having such fun
At some point, they'll have to return to the gun
They're out of breath they've scored many goals
They'll have to return to trenches and fox holes
Before that happens they share a welcome smoke
They share family photos and memories bespoke
They share chocolate and bags of boiled sweets
Hopes that one day they can return to the streets
Suddenly the silence deafens, awkward handshakes
No General punished for their all their order mistakes
Regretfully they make their way back to their trenches
Affixing bayonets sat on rickety wooden benches
Unusually the trenches are bathed in candlelight
They sing Christmas carols all through the night
Then the fateful order comes: "Over the top lads"
Whistles scream like banshees affecting mental health
Some cry, some urinate some actually shit themselves
Ladders set we climb, first to stand are all mown down
As bullets and grenades blow body parts all around
He saw the man who shared a smoke he hesitated
He was shot in the face for his crime cause he waited
Clasping a blood-stained photograph of his daughter
Questioning God and his wisdom for unholy slaughter
Kissing his photo, his eyes closed, his light went out
Still not understanding what this bloodshed was about
Many men died
Many widows cried
Comforting their fatherless children
Too late the peace treaty
Mum lost her sweetie
A daughter with a broken heart
Without her Dad, it won't restart
Celebrations of peace are marred
Memories of the dead are too bloody hard
She forgets his face her memory broke
She sees him in mist and a large cloud of smoke
Slowly deserting rickety wooden benches
Surprisingly rifles and guns are left behind
As thoughts of Christmas enter their mind
Such a happy time for families and friends
An apparent cease-fire and making amends
Helmets and coats make good goalposts
A game of football is their Christmas toast
One-nil, one one, two-nil, score unimportant
Laughing, joking, running and having such fun
At some point, they'll have to return to the gun
They're out of breath they've scored many goals
They'll have to return to trenches and fox holes
Before that happens they share a welcome smoke
They share family photos and memories bespoke
They share chocolate and bags of boiled sweets
Hopes that one day they can return to the streets
Suddenly the silence deafens, awkward handshakes
No General punished for their all their order mistakes
Regretfully they make their way back to their trenches
Affixing bayonets sat on rickety wooden benches
Unusually the trenches are bathed in candlelight
They sing Christmas carols all through the night
Then the fateful order comes: "Over the top lads"
Whistles scream like banshees affecting mental health
Some cry, some urinate some actually shit themselves
Ladders set we climb, first to stand are all mown down
As bullets and grenades blow body parts all around
He saw the man who shared a smoke he hesitated
He was shot in the face for his crime cause he waited
Clasping a blood-stained photograph of his daughter
Questioning God and his wisdom for unholy slaughter
Kissing his photo, his eyes closed, his light went out
Still not understanding what this bloodshed was about
Many men died
Many widows cried
Comforting their fatherless children
Too late the peace treaty
Mum lost her sweetie
A daughter with a broken heart
Without her Dad, it won't restart
Celebrations of peace are marred
Memories of the dead are too bloody hard
She forgets his face her memory broke
She sees him in mist and a large cloud of smoke
Written by David_Macleod
(14397816)
Go To Page
THE MUD BEING THE SAME
Exchanging bullets, bombs, gas
obeying hole-in-the-ground commands
unknown the face of the enemy
monstrous in imaginings
Exchanging well wishes, songs, stories, cigarettes,
laughs, smiles, a bit of sport.
one day of Christmas detente, cease fire
enemies indistinguishable but for their clothing
The following day
was it harder to pull the trigger?
obeying hole-in-the-ground commands
unknown the face of the enemy
monstrous in imaginings
Exchanging well wishes, songs, stories, cigarettes,
laughs, smiles, a bit of sport.
one day of Christmas detente, cease fire
enemies indistinguishable but for their clothing
The following day
was it harder to pull the trigger?
Written by Gahddess_Worship
(Osomajestuoso)
Go To Page
All My Love
My Dearest,
I don’t have much to write this month except that
We’ve been at a standstill
A snowstorm halted the fighting for almost three weeks,
And the ground is completely frozen,
But I think any day now they’ll have us make an advance
I’m not sure what will happen after we receive the orders.
Last week another soldier in my platoon took my picture,
It was really quite amazing
It was the first day the sun had come out
It’s still bitter cold here but the only thing that keeps me warm
Are the thoughts and memories of your embrace.
Hopefully this war will come to an end soon
But I can’t wait to be in your loving arms again.
Say hello to everyone back home for me,
And know that I think about you every day,
Keep me in your prayers my darling
For I keep you in mine
Until I see you again
All my love.
QUINCEAÑERA
A pleasant Summer breeze
whispers through the ahuehuete
slightly agitating las luminarias
that border with shimmering light
the expansive red-brick patio
festively decorated with garlands
of pink and white papel picado
In my red taffeta dress,
lovingly hand sewn by mi mamá,
con mi papá I dance el vals tradicional.
I'm the center of attention
in a large crowd of smiling familia y amigos.
The fragrance of my bouquet of quince rosas,
the sound of música alegre
played by el Mariachi,
thrill my senses.
Mi abuelita says
I look like a bellísima carnación
I love my abuelita so much!
she made my beautiful cake,
tres leches...mi favorita,
and her deliciosos tamales
just as she did for mi mamá.
I feel so loved, so special.
¡Estoy muy feliz!
Me siento como princesa.
Wrenched awake too suddenly,
dream shattered
"¡Despierta m'ija!
we have to line up for food"
the pungent stench of body odor,
of too much humanity packed tightly,
cruelly propels me into reallity
"¡Feliz cumpleaños, preciosa!"
mi mamá says, con besos y abrazo
tears cascading down her cheeks
A blazing hot Texas Sun
beats down on women, children, and men
lined up single-file, by the hundreds,
awaiting daily, meager rations of food and water.
Mi mamá, to lift my spirits,
quietly sings my favorite canción antigua,
"Ay, ay, ay, ay
Canta y no llores
Porque cantando se alegran
Cielito lindo, los corazones"
I try hard to hide my tears, my deep sadness.
Phantasmal strains of Mariachi trumpets steal in
and the high, razor-wire-topped fences,
unsmiling guards,
and así llamado land of opportunity beyond
for a brief moment disappear.
I sashay across an elegant ballroom
mid rustling of red taffeta
bailando,cantando, gritando con gozo
¡Todo esta bien...mágico!
whispers through the ahuehuete
slightly agitating las luminarias
that border with shimmering light
the expansive red-brick patio
festively decorated with garlands
of pink and white papel picado
In my red taffeta dress,
lovingly hand sewn by mi mamá,
con mi papá I dance el vals tradicional.
I'm the center of attention
in a large crowd of smiling familia y amigos.
The fragrance of my bouquet of quince rosas,
the sound of música alegre
played by el Mariachi,
thrill my senses.
Mi abuelita says
I look like a bellísima carnación
I love my abuelita so much!
she made my beautiful cake,
tres leches...mi favorita,
and her deliciosos tamales
just as she did for mi mamá.
I feel so loved, so special.
¡Estoy muy feliz!
Me siento como princesa.
Wrenched awake too suddenly,
dream shattered
"¡Despierta m'ija!
we have to line up for food"
the pungent stench of body odor,
of too much humanity packed tightly,
cruelly propels me into reallity
"¡Feliz cumpleaños, preciosa!"
mi mamá says, con besos y abrazo
tears cascading down her cheeks
A blazing hot Texas Sun
beats down on women, children, and men
lined up single-file, by the hundreds,
awaiting daily, meager rations of food and water.
Mi mamá, to lift my spirits,
quietly sings my favorite canción antigua,
"Ay, ay, ay, ay
Canta y no llores
Porque cantando se alegran
Cielito lindo, los corazones"
I try hard to hide my tears, my deep sadness.
Phantasmal strains of Mariachi trumpets steal in
and the high, razor-wire-topped fences,
unsmiling guards,
and así llamado land of opportunity beyond
for a brief moment disappear.
I sashay across an elegant ballroom
mid rustling of red taffeta
bailando,cantando, gritando con gozo
¡Todo esta bien...mágico!
Written by Gahddess_Worship
(Osomajestuoso)
Go To Page
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Anonymous
Trophy awarded to David_Macleod on this occasion because I felt it to be the most touching of all the entries. It would have been awarded to imperfectedstone, however the submission no longer exists.
Thank you for the entries on this, they were all of a great quality!
Until next time 😊
Thank you for the entries on this, they were all of a great quality!
Until next time 😊
Thank you Missy, it was a rare write that I was quite proud of :-)))))))))
Great competition it must have been a tough decision, all the other entries were as good if not better than my own - thanks again and thanks to all who participated :-)))))))))))))))
Great competition it must have been a tough decision, all the other entries were as good if not better than my own - thanks again and thanks to all who participated :-)))))))))))))))
