Poetry competition CLOSED 28th October 2019 10:55am
WINNER
Anonymous
Anonymous
RUNNER-UP:
blinkers55
Angry at Society
Related submission no longer exists.
A Generation’s Death
The messenger came in, spoke in his ear,
The one who had received in morning's light,
Of what had come to pass just then that year;
His eyes grew & drew in their hardened sight.
The flames began to flicker at his feet,
The news befalling those in their last breath.
Such unbelieving sadness from its heat
In moments of a generation's death.
The third all-seeing eye that knew their fate,
When destined, one-by-one, as was foretold.
Of all the man-made temples built on hate,
To ashes ground into the dust of old.
The journey of the one for us who died,
The world is spinning on a faith's mistrust.
No matter what belief each man abide,
And waits to claim which of them is more just.
Apocalyptic triumphs' ruins cold;
The masses freed of global social hacks.
The corporate holocaust has lost its hold;
Yet hope anew has no where to turn back.
The messenger came in, spoke in his ear,
The one who had received in morning's light,
Of what had come to pass just then that year;
His eyes grew & drew in their hardened sight.
The flames began to flicker at his feet,
The news befalling those in their last breath.
Such unbelieving sadness from its heat
In moments of a generation's death.
The third all-seeing eye that knew their fate,
When destined, one-by-one, as was foretold.
Of all the man-made temples built on hate,
To ashes ground into the dust of old.
The journey of the one for us who died,
The world is spinning on a faith's mistrust.
No matter what belief each man abide,
And waits to claim which of them is more just.
Apocalyptic triumphs' ruins cold;
The masses freed of global social hacks.
The corporate holocaust has lost its hold;
Yet hope anew has no where to turn back.
JUST LOST FOR WORDS
From onxy skies to memories that have faded to black leaving behind a trail of broken hearts with broken souls with broken dreams that will forever go unseen, for the persons and the dreams didn't get the chance to be completed with the vision of the dream before there very life of breath was taken out from there chest thanks to humanity.
But from a tapestry of art done whether by a paint brush or poetry done by pen upon paper comes a image that reflects the mere images of life, as seen through the artist eyes so just image as you journey and see the world through your own eyes, what do you see in all honesty for do you see the decade of unkept buildings even children's in the streets who don't have enough to eat with no parent to guild them and direct them in life.
For do you see the corruption within the government with its greed for that all mighty dollar for do you see the sadness with the blood that has been shed on the streets, along with the madness of robbery and rapes of the women's and little boys and girls and kidnapping of our children's, for do you see the abuse mentally emotionally physically and spiritually with no remorse nor regrets sometimes not even spending a day doing time in prison for a crime they committed.
For what I see is a world that has somewhat became selfish and uncaring for were is the humanity of mankind, for why is it so hard to demonstrate kindness with compassion and understanding for we all have flaws and imperfections, but when did we stop caring about the life of humanity and the world for were is the love with a rare a real understanding for humanity this thing we call LIFE.
But from a tapestry of art done whether by a paint brush or poetry done by pen upon paper comes a image that reflects the mere images of life, as seen through the artist eyes so just image as you journey and see the world through your own eyes, what do you see in all honesty for do you see the decade of unkept buildings even children's in the streets who don't have enough to eat with no parent to guild them and direct them in life.
For do you see the corruption within the government with its greed for that all mighty dollar for do you see the sadness with the blood that has been shed on the streets, along with the madness of robbery and rapes of the women's and little boys and girls and kidnapping of our children's, for do you see the abuse mentally emotionally physically and spiritually with no remorse nor regrets sometimes not even spending a day doing time in prison for a crime they committed.
For what I see is a world that has somewhat became selfish and uncaring for were is the humanity of mankind, for why is it so hard to demonstrate kindness with compassion and understanding for we all have flaws and imperfections, but when did we stop caring about the life of humanity and the world for were is the love with a rare a real understanding for humanity this thing we call LIFE.
Written by Stoney223
(WOLF BAY33)
Go To Page
Telly trouble ; trendsetter TV
:) What kids are watching on telly
are crimes and crimes in all variety!
Heinous crimes of hate
Piteous crimes of passion
Carried out at shocking rate
thinking in some wild fashion
then ending up cell mates!
Or Crime with no rhyme
Or reason
Or crime for treason,
Crime never abates
Juveniles don't fear the prison.
When kids watch their movie heroes
shoot down people with the gun
they are incited to do the same
to achieve some thrill and fun.
When they see their very film star
slash someone's throat in a fit of anger
they think well of crimes of rage
and plunge everybody else into danger.
The tendency to portray the violent scene
luridly and shockingly on the Big Screen
Ah even for the small screen, tis the gory
that makes for the dark and thrilling story.
Now that technology's long opened this pandora's box
the dispersal of amplified social ills simply ain't no hoax
The rowdy hoodlums and reckless gangsters
are simply by-products of Tv influences
The world watches the thriving of the bully-boy pranksters
passively in helpless terror of their offences.
It's all portrayal of the vulgar, the obscene
by that devious , glamorous Silver Screen
For the spine tingling horror movie
though it may seem oh so groovy
begets the horrendous
and drills evil thoughts subliminally
into the subconscious!
It's an unrestrained dark faking
of real life reality exaggerating
Whether it's Bollywood in the East
or it's Hollywood in the West
they don't merely impart tactics of defence
but rather those of aggressive offence
Viewing those gruesome swashbuckling films
gives rise to morbid sadistic whims
Flipping through TV channels just ponder
if the telly's the perfect channel
of information is it a proper panel?
Dad always tells me, 'fear ye the roaches' flicking antennae?
While you oughtta fear the influence
of 'em' flickering images by dish antennae'.
Then a mere single merit that I dug
as I drank cappucino in my mug
that atleast one couldn't live in a bubble
daily watching the bubble-bug.
Ah but then tougher gun laws
couldn't halt even underage shooting sprees
Rather it's stringent scanning of Tv content
that might make it all cease
Parental supervision too tis gravely essential
Should've been of parental code quintessential
So the next time you catch your beloved teen
absorbed and engrossed while glued to the screen
Just sleuth a bit just to make sure
that for the x-rated he's not too keen!
are crimes and crimes in all variety!
Heinous crimes of hate
Piteous crimes of passion
Carried out at shocking rate
thinking in some wild fashion
then ending up cell mates!
Or Crime with no rhyme
Or reason
Or crime for treason,
Crime never abates
Juveniles don't fear the prison.
When kids watch their movie heroes
shoot down people with the gun
they are incited to do the same
to achieve some thrill and fun.
When they see their very film star
slash someone's throat in a fit of anger
they think well of crimes of rage
and plunge everybody else into danger.
The tendency to portray the violent scene
luridly and shockingly on the Big Screen
Ah even for the small screen, tis the gory
that makes for the dark and thrilling story.
Now that technology's long opened this pandora's box
the dispersal of amplified social ills simply ain't no hoax
The rowdy hoodlums and reckless gangsters
are simply by-products of Tv influences
The world watches the thriving of the bully-boy pranksters
passively in helpless terror of their offences.
It's all portrayal of the vulgar, the obscene
by that devious , glamorous Silver Screen
For the spine tingling horror movie
though it may seem oh so groovy
begets the horrendous
and drills evil thoughts subliminally
into the subconscious!
It's an unrestrained dark faking
of real life reality exaggerating
Whether it's Bollywood in the East
or it's Hollywood in the West
they don't merely impart tactics of defence
but rather those of aggressive offence
Viewing those gruesome swashbuckling films
gives rise to morbid sadistic whims
Flipping through TV channels just ponder
if the telly's the perfect channel
of information is it a proper panel?
Dad always tells me, 'fear ye the roaches' flicking antennae?
While you oughtta fear the influence
of 'em' flickering images by dish antennae'.
Then a mere single merit that I dug
as I drank cappucino in my mug
that atleast one couldn't live in a bubble
daily watching the bubble-bug.
Ah but then tougher gun laws
couldn't halt even underage shooting sprees
Rather it's stringent scanning of Tv content
that might make it all cease
Parental supervision too tis gravely essential
Should've been of parental code quintessential
So the next time you catch your beloved teen
absorbed and engrossed while glued to the screen
Just sleuth a bit just to make sure
that for the x-rated he's not too keen!
Written by Zaynab_kamoonpury
Go To Page
Make Me Laugh
- Make Me Laugh -
When I was a child, my dearest mother would tell me oft,
That I was far, far too serious, and did not smile enough.
But what did she ever do, to make me laugh or even sing?
She herself was far too serious, and cruelest in everything!
No one understood me, and I was bullied and provoked,
By all my peers and their pressures, and on that sad note...
My life was beset with tragedies, which did not ever relent.
The pain others inflicted on me, of it they did not repent!
Sorrow heaped upon sorrow, until my tears fell most hard,
Sadness grating on my nerves, making life feel like a war.
A struggle just to smile, just to feel like a child aught to!
Whilst I wondered oft, when my dreams would come true.
That is one version of how I first felt this persistent pain...
Sometimes I remember it differently, like some inky stain,
On a psychiatrist's inkblots, in which I see far too much.
How did my mind become so splintered, broken as such!
One day I found my nerves had broken to a nasty degree,
As I went to cry and instead I laughed ever so hysterically.
How ironic that this chronic problem keeps resurfacing...
For my mother wanted me to laugh more, I was noticing!
That was how it started, whatever insanity grips my soul.
Sometimes I wonder if I am possessed beyond all control,
By some spirit that is living my life whilst I am trapped...
Somewhere in my mind, where my destiny was mapped.
But no, I feel and see and do think with a lunatic's clarity,
That somehow this madness I bear is part of my destiny!
The world told me a joke, one I did not truly get before...
Even when my mother beat me, that awful drunk whore,
Who never stopped to think that a child might remember.
But I cannot forget, neither waking, nor lost in slumber...
All the horrible things people did to me, over long years.
Now when I paint my face, I laugh through all my tears!
Are you happy now, I ask, to whatever gods that exist...
As I paint my lips blood red and prepare as ever to resist.
Resist, rise, rebel and make the world know that I matter,
Because when I felt at my worst, this world did not care!
That is the biggest joke of all, that I am as I was created,
Molded and shaped in the crucible, in a fire as unabated.
I still feel the burn, the sting, the laughter that I embrace,
As every day I see the sun and my inner turmoil do face.
But I prefer the night to day, it somehow feels so secure!
The embrace of a mother, who cares truly and evermore.
I hear the sound of bats outside, the flap of many wings...
And recall how they are misunderstood, those gray kings.
People fear what they do not comprehend, this I do know,
For when bullies made me shake, they too shook in woe!
They saw in me something other, as not of this very Earth.
And, every rude insult, hastened me to my insane rebirth,
Like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon set hotly ablaze...
Looking at the world feverishly, with eyes in a mad daze.
Its' wings on fire like a phoenix, fleeting yet so symbolic!
Would you beat me now, my mother the crass alcoholic?
You would not dare, seeing me as I have in time became.
For I too am like the phoenix, soaring with wings aflame!
Perhaps in that I am a symbol, something that cannot die,
And that makes me chuckle, and laugh and sing and sigh.
I cackle as the bats soar on, the autumn moon so large...
Which reminds me a bit of how of my life I am in charge.
Make me laugh, humanity, and watch my chaos ensue...
For I am the conflagration, the apocalypse coming true!
When I was a child, my dearest mother would tell me oft,
That I was far, far too serious, and did not smile enough.
But what did she ever do, to make me laugh or even sing?
She herself was far too serious, and cruelest in everything!
No one understood me, and I was bullied and provoked,
By all my peers and their pressures, and on that sad note...
My life was beset with tragedies, which did not ever relent.
The pain others inflicted on me, of it they did not repent!
Sorrow heaped upon sorrow, until my tears fell most hard,
Sadness grating on my nerves, making life feel like a war.
A struggle just to smile, just to feel like a child aught to!
Whilst I wondered oft, when my dreams would come true.
That is one version of how I first felt this persistent pain...
Sometimes I remember it differently, like some inky stain,
On a psychiatrist's inkblots, in which I see far too much.
How did my mind become so splintered, broken as such!
One day I found my nerves had broken to a nasty degree,
As I went to cry and instead I laughed ever so hysterically.
How ironic that this chronic problem keeps resurfacing...
For my mother wanted me to laugh more, I was noticing!
That was how it started, whatever insanity grips my soul.
Sometimes I wonder if I am possessed beyond all control,
By some spirit that is living my life whilst I am trapped...
Somewhere in my mind, where my destiny was mapped.
But no, I feel and see and do think with a lunatic's clarity,
That somehow this madness I bear is part of my destiny!
The world told me a joke, one I did not truly get before...
Even when my mother beat me, that awful drunk whore,
Who never stopped to think that a child might remember.
But I cannot forget, neither waking, nor lost in slumber...
All the horrible things people did to me, over long years.
Now when I paint my face, I laugh through all my tears!
Are you happy now, I ask, to whatever gods that exist...
As I paint my lips blood red and prepare as ever to resist.
Resist, rise, rebel and make the world know that I matter,
Because when I felt at my worst, this world did not care!
That is the biggest joke of all, that I am as I was created,
Molded and shaped in the crucible, in a fire as unabated.
I still feel the burn, the sting, the laughter that I embrace,
As every day I see the sun and my inner turmoil do face.
But I prefer the night to day, it somehow feels so secure!
The embrace of a mother, who cares truly and evermore.
I hear the sound of bats outside, the flap of many wings...
And recall how they are misunderstood, those gray kings.
People fear what they do not comprehend, this I do know,
For when bullies made me shake, they too shook in woe!
They saw in me something other, as not of this very Earth.
And, every rude insult, hastened me to my insane rebirth,
Like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon set hotly ablaze...
Looking at the world feverishly, with eyes in a mad daze.
Its' wings on fire like a phoenix, fleeting yet so symbolic!
Would you beat me now, my mother the crass alcoholic?
You would not dare, seeing me as I have in time became.
For I too am like the phoenix, soaring with wings aflame!
Perhaps in that I am a symbol, something that cannot die,
And that makes me chuckle, and laugh and sing and sigh.
I cackle as the bats soar on, the autumn moon so large...
Which reminds me a bit of how of my life I am in charge.
Make me laugh, humanity, and watch my chaos ensue...
For I am the conflagration, the apocalypse coming true!
Written by Kou_Indigo
(Karam L. Parveen-Ashton)
Go To Page
A Just Torture
The sickly sound of blood,flesh,and bone being crushed,
Is as gruesome as imagined but to really see it happening?
Does twisted shit to both mind and thought where sanity...
Becomes lost and your frame of mind becomes distraught.
Don't fret there Suzue Que I'm not going to really hurt you!
I'm just going to beat the fuck out of your boy toy for awhile.
Maybe take a sledge hammer to his knee caps for the chap,
Put him in a concrete grinder for being a perverted pedophile.
Round up a few dozen of those asshole sex offenders for fun,
Show them that I'm not fucking around when I say leave town,
Steal a boat from the local marina and chain them fucks together,
Go out to sea and push them off one by one so they all drown...
I'm tired of hearing about these fuckers who prey upon our kids,
I'm so tired of it that I have these dreams of killing all pedophiles.
They committ the crime and do little to no time and do it over again,
Most are in the church lurking in the shadows of every little child,
I'm so fucking over this shit,
Justice doesn't even tame,
How many of you can admit,
Have you ever felt the same?
Is as gruesome as imagined but to really see it happening?
Does twisted shit to both mind and thought where sanity...
Becomes lost and your frame of mind becomes distraught.
Don't fret there Suzue Que I'm not going to really hurt you!
I'm just going to beat the fuck out of your boy toy for awhile.
Maybe take a sledge hammer to his knee caps for the chap,
Put him in a concrete grinder for being a perverted pedophile.
Round up a few dozen of those asshole sex offenders for fun,
Show them that I'm not fucking around when I say leave town,
Steal a boat from the local marina and chain them fucks together,
Go out to sea and push them off one by one so they all drown...
I'm tired of hearing about these fuckers who prey upon our kids,
I'm so tired of it that I have these dreams of killing all pedophiles.
They committ the crime and do little to no time and do it over again,
Most are in the church lurking in the shadows of every little child,
I'm so fucking over this shit,
Justice doesn't even tame,
How many of you can admit,
Have you ever felt the same?
Written by PleasuresOfPain
Go To Page
The winner of this competition and any runners up were decided by public vote.
Thank you to the following members for voting:
cold_fusion, AspergerPoet56, Tallen, inechoingsilence, Miss_Sub, Marks, lepperochan, Poetic_Strength, Brando, FromTheAsh, da_poetic-edifier, buddydog, paperstains, Heaven_sent_Kathy, wallyroo92, nutbuster, eswaller, BreannaMSeymour91, Cocoa, Amorous_tryst, fredcobbs
Thank you to the following members for voting:
cold_fusion, AspergerPoet56, Tallen, inechoingsilence, Miss_Sub, Marks, lepperochan, Poetic_Strength, Brando, FromTheAsh, da_poetic-edifier, buddydog, paperstains, Heaven_sent_Kathy, wallyroo92, nutbuster, eswaller, BreannaMSeymour91, Cocoa, Amorous_tryst, fredcobbs
