Poetry competition CLOSED 13th October 2019 7:10am
WINNER
David_Macleod (14397816)
David_Macleod (14397816)
RUNNERS-UP:
crimsin
and Heaven_sent_Kathy
Your favorite poem...written by YOU
The Last of Us
Does our journey
through the pain and the torture
the rivers of blood
the sacrifices
that we
and our familys
have endured
down through the ages
does it all
end here
has the silent war
that our ancestors fought
so hard
to keep us alive
to bring us back
from the edge
has it all
been in vain
Slowly we are dieing
one by one
while we remain
scattered on this earth
does it all end
here
in this century
the final closeing of the circle
that haunts us
from the past
where greed and ignorance
once again achives
the destruction of our World
where directed chaos
breaks the bones
of our tatterd dreams
to reunite
different colors
different cultures
to reunite
the one tribe
that will bind us
the one tribe
that will set free
our birth right
the right to be
a Human being
Does our journey
through the pain and the torture
the rivers of blood
the sacrifices
that we
and our familys
have endured
down through the ages
does it all
end here
has the silent war
that our ancestors fought
so hard
to keep us alive
to bring us back
from the edge
has it all
been in vain
Slowly we are dieing
one by one
while we remain
scattered on this earth
does it all end
here
in this century
the final closeing of the circle
that haunts us
from the past
where greed and ignorance
once again achives
the destruction of our World
where directed chaos
breaks the bones
of our tatterd dreams
to reunite
different colors
different cultures
to reunite
the one tribe
that will bind us
the one tribe
that will set free
our birth right
the right to be
a Human being
Her true self
Wanting to belong...to someone who holds no love, memories, fantasy and connection with no other.
A person who will never betray her, reject her, neglect or harm her...to feel the deepest emotions never yet discovered.
Someone to wake up to every morning rejoicing her existence, caters to her every desires...never to bore her with words but to excite her with actions, actions so powerful it made the rain fall, creating a hurricane. Make her their queen and the world her muse...someone to make her moan and groan without a simple touch, but just by the thought of your presence make her weak all over...with just a single touch she climax creating waves crashing ecstay.
A person who will never betray her, reject her, neglect or harm her...to feel the deepest emotions never yet discovered.
Someone to wake up to every morning rejoicing her existence, caters to her every desires...never to bore her with words but to excite her with actions, actions so powerful it made the rain fall, creating a hurricane. Make her their queen and the world her muse...someone to make her moan and groan without a simple touch, but just by the thought of your presence make her weak all over...with just a single touch she climax creating waves crashing ecstay.
Written by ThaSeductress
(Daii_Cevyn_Belladon)
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Late One Night in Peculiar, Missouri
I had been driving south all day... and half the night.
Pulling my Gypsy Wagon.
Bound for Mag-no-li-a, Texas...
Then I saw the sign...
It said... "Peculiar"...
Food for thought, that.
I was feeling a little odd... on the nod... clearly
needing to sleep
So I pulled off the highway
and onto the feeder...
Come up on two Cop cars parked next to a Bank...
I got out of my pick-up... went over and joined 'em
Explaining my problem, I asked for their aid.
"Y'all could park right here", one said, "o'er by the Bank."
Then the other cop spoke, "I've a better idea... You go 'cross
that road there and park far left corner...
You be O.K...no one bother you there..."
I thanked them both kindly and stifling a yawn, took my rig
'cross the road and parked where he said.
Next morning I woke up and looked out
my window. He'd parked me in front of a little café.
How Sweet can it get?
Breakfast, sweet water and a clean bathroom...
And there's nothing beats waking up in your own bed.
Ya know? "Peculiar" was a pleasant place...
one of the nicest I've ever passed through...
I hope it's still there offering kindness to tired travelers... I do.
Pulling my Gypsy Wagon.
Bound for Mag-no-li-a, Texas...
Then I saw the sign...
It said... "Peculiar"...
Food for thought, that.
I was feeling a little odd... on the nod... clearly
needing to sleep
So I pulled off the highway
and onto the feeder...
Come up on two Cop cars parked next to a Bank...
I got out of my pick-up... went over and joined 'em
Explaining my problem, I asked for their aid.
"Y'all could park right here", one said, "o'er by the Bank."
Then the other cop spoke, "I've a better idea... You go 'cross
that road there and park far left corner...
You be O.K...no one bother you there..."
I thanked them both kindly and stifling a yawn, took my rig
'cross the road and parked where he said.
Next morning I woke up and looked out
my window. He'd parked me in front of a little café.
How Sweet can it get?
Breakfast, sweet water and a clean bathroom...
And there's nothing beats waking up in your own bed.
Ya know? "Peculiar" was a pleasant place...
one of the nicest I've ever passed through...
I hope it's still there offering kindness to tired travelers... I do.
Written by Ely
(E.A.Rothwell)
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Alone in paradise.
Memories..
Rush out of me in a force like white frothy foam from the sea.
I stop to catch my breath.
My shoulders ache and are bronzed from the hot sun.
For moments, I stand frozen, ensnared in time.
Emotions continue to bubble and boil over.
Far off into the distance, boats loll on gentle waves.
A pang throbs inside my chest and I inhale.
The fragrant scent of ocean air fills my nostrils.
I exhale, sharply.
Light begins to fade into an indigo sunset.
Salt water and sweat form a pool between my breasts.
It is warm even at dusk.
Laughter startles me from my daze.
Suddenly, I turn to leave.
The shrill cries of gulls follow me home.
There is beauty in every direction I choose to go.
My footprints leave an imprint on white sand.
It feels like the lonliest place on earth without you.
Rush out of me in a force like white frothy foam from the sea.
I stop to catch my breath.
My shoulders ache and are bronzed from the hot sun.
For moments, I stand frozen, ensnared in time.
Emotions continue to bubble and boil over.
Far off into the distance, boats loll on gentle waves.
A pang throbs inside my chest and I inhale.
The fragrant scent of ocean air fills my nostrils.
I exhale, sharply.
Light begins to fade into an indigo sunset.
Salt water and sweat form a pool between my breasts.
It is warm even at dusk.
Laughter startles me from my daze.
Suddenly, I turn to leave.
The shrill cries of gulls follow me home.
There is beauty in every direction I choose to go.
My footprints leave an imprint on white sand.
It feels like the lonliest place on earth without you.
Written by LostGirl18
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Needle Work
How beautifully embroidered lies
You’ve sewn within twists and turns
Making your way to my depths
Stealing the breath from my lips
And the heart from my chest
You’ve sewn within twists and turns
Making your way to my depths
Stealing the breath from my lips
And the heart from my chest
Written by Bonzi
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The Elegance of Our Sunset
Death shall have a dominion.
Dawn’s birth to day’s life,
Dusk’s decay to the death of night:
Tis’ not our mortal decision.
Youth’s innocent juvenility,
Vitality’s vibrancy,
The elegantly decaying morbidity,
A corpse in the clay of its grave perishing –
The funeral of darkness at moonset.
Morning’s nativity bears us,
Afternoon’s perennial years,
Evening’s eve of death,
Night’s mortality.
Our flowering... we beautiful cherry blossoms!
The senescent years of our ripening,
The weathering of our childhood babyface,
The decay of our innocence,
The maturation of our witticism.
Oh, the serenity of the eventide.
Now our setting, crimson sun
Trickles hue of gold onto our long-trodden path.
Oh, how immortal is the hand of the clock
That shining ball in the sky run.
Tis’ the hour of nightfall, twilight in our shutting eyes.
…And soul’s fresh, immortal rebirth.
Dawn’s birth to day’s life,
Dusk’s decay to the death of night:
Tis’ not our mortal decision.
Youth’s innocent juvenility,
Vitality’s vibrancy,
The elegantly decaying morbidity,
A corpse in the clay of its grave perishing –
The funeral of darkness at moonset.
Morning’s nativity bears us,
Afternoon’s perennial years,
Evening’s eve of death,
Night’s mortality.
Our flowering... we beautiful cherry blossoms!
The senescent years of our ripening,
The weathering of our childhood babyface,
The decay of our innocence,
The maturation of our witticism.
Oh, the serenity of the eventide.
Now our setting, crimson sun
Trickles hue of gold onto our long-trodden path.
Oh, how immortal is the hand of the clock
That shining ball in the sky run.
Tis’ the hour of nightfall, twilight in our shutting eyes.
…And soul’s fresh, immortal rebirth.
Written by gothicsurrealism
(Daniel Long)
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nidus
I’ve heard the poets and romantics say
a simple kiss between lovers stops time
the end of my existence in this
fucking dispensation is draaaaaagging!
Your focus or iota of attention I miss
to the degree of aging, aging, old
death.
I want to pickle my neurons
create a nest of insects for small
animals and Faeries to bask
in the warmth of someone’s
nidus. . .
Maybe mine?
Not asking for a locus swarm of
infection within my organism shell
only a little demonstration
of love ~
or a kind word or 2…
……………………………...
magick phenomenon.
a simple kiss between lovers stops time
the end of my existence in this
fucking dispensation is draaaaaagging!
Your focus or iota of attention I miss
to the degree of aging, aging, old
death.
I want to pickle my neurons
create a nest of insects for small
animals and Faeries to bask
in the warmth of someone’s
nidus. . .
Maybe mine?
Not asking for a locus swarm of
infection within my organism shell
only a little demonstration
of love ~
or a kind word or 2…
……………………………...
magick phenomenon.
Written by Tallen
(earth_empath)
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PAINTED SKIES
There she sits once again, under black painted skies.
broken hearted, lost and alone,
With no one there to hear her cries.
She’s been searching for love in all the wrong places,
But now no longer wants to see their faces.
There she sits, under black painted skies,
With no one to hear, she cries;
How can the skies be painted white
when there is nothing pure in sight?
She looks to the heavens searching for the glory of God,
but can’t even see the works of His hands.
Everything is blurred by the tears in her eyes.
She only sees water color painted skies.
There she sits, under black painted skies,
Broken hearted, lost, and alone,
With no one to hear, she cries;
Show me your love, show me you care,
Light up my eyes,
I want to see white painted skies.
There she sits, under black painted skies,
Broken hearted, lost, and alone,
Never knowing that He was always there to hear her cries.
As she sits there, He enlightens her eyes,
She looks to the heavens to see the golden sun rising,
Mesmerized by its beauty,
Her eyes follow the works of His hands.
The sun paints the morning skies with its beaming gold rays,
And the black painted skies slowly fade away,
For they were never meant to stay.
The skies slowly turn pure white,
As the sun’s rays reach across the heavens.
And the sun‘s warm rays pour down upon her face,
Drying her tears,
And taking away all her fears,
She looks to the heavens searching for the glory of God,
With her sight no longer blurred by the tears in her eyes,
She can see the works of His hands.
There she sits, under white painted skies,
Loved and cared for with enlightened eyes,
And now, everyone can hear her joyful cries;
“How beautiful it is to see white painted skies,
With everything so pure in sight,
Oh, how I find such great delight,
I love you Lord, for you have heard my cries.”
broken hearted, lost and alone,
With no one there to hear her cries.
She’s been searching for love in all the wrong places,
But now no longer wants to see their faces.
There she sits, under black painted skies,
With no one to hear, she cries;
How can the skies be painted white
when there is nothing pure in sight?
She looks to the heavens searching for the glory of God,
but can’t even see the works of His hands.
Everything is blurred by the tears in her eyes.
She only sees water color painted skies.
There she sits, under black painted skies,
Broken hearted, lost, and alone,
With no one to hear, she cries;
Show me your love, show me you care,
Light up my eyes,
I want to see white painted skies.
There she sits, under black painted skies,
Broken hearted, lost, and alone,
Never knowing that He was always there to hear her cries.
As she sits there, He enlightens her eyes,
She looks to the heavens to see the golden sun rising,
Mesmerized by its beauty,
Her eyes follow the works of His hands.
The sun paints the morning skies with its beaming gold rays,
And the black painted skies slowly fade away,
For they were never meant to stay.
The skies slowly turn pure white,
As the sun’s rays reach across the heavens.
And the sun‘s warm rays pour down upon her face,
Drying her tears,
And taking away all her fears,
She looks to the heavens searching for the glory of God,
With her sight no longer blurred by the tears in her eyes,
She can see the works of His hands.
There she sits, under white painted skies,
Loved and cared for with enlightened eyes,
And now, everyone can hear her joyful cries;
“How beautiful it is to see white painted skies,
With everything so pure in sight,
Oh, how I find such great delight,
I love you Lord, for you have heard my cries.”
Written by LIFE4ME
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Bring Me Your Spring
I am lost
drifting thru the night
delicate dust swept out to the breeze
not seen, not heard, not understood
your sunlight's shining in
beckoning
but I am dormant
I sit and wait
watching in wonder as those create
I just hesitate
bring to me your spring
where refulgence airs anew
where we dress down and open up
not just hearts but minds
cast out slowly your poetic soul
on fractal lines of gold
undulate me with your heat
as we meld from two to one
lucent thought, beauty brought about
drifting thru the night
delicate dust swept out to the breeze
not seen, not heard, not understood
your sunlight's shining in
beckoning
but I am dormant
I sit and wait
watching in wonder as those create
I just hesitate
bring to me your spring
where refulgence airs anew
where we dress down and open up
not just hearts but minds
cast out slowly your poetic soul
on fractal lines of gold
undulate me with your heat
as we meld from two to one
lucent thought, beauty brought about
Written by JusTim_
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One Last Kiss
He existed in that moment
when the absence of sound
coaxed my cerebral contentment to veer from its asylum,
nearing me to the brim of an incessant need to feel
the familiarity of a quelled want
So, I offered my flesh;
palms turned inward, welcoming muted serrated indentations
to nuzzle the cusp of my wrists, kissing with bated breaths
against the cerulean vein beneath the sleeve of cellophane pulses,
dissolving the line conjoining sanity and madness
into a singular coalesced truth
And this truth, this liberation,
released warm sanguine comfort to foster my naked curiosity
and it crept down, slowly, hugging my skin
further emaciating any lingering qualms,
beckoning my lips to touch…to become acquainted with
the unknown urge that had taken over
where sensibility once reigned
And I tasted…I tasted…him
and I knew him and then
he became what he had been:
my quandary…my impasse…my contradiction…my Catch-22
the elemental nourishment vital to my existence
my brio’s depletion,
extracting the sustenance of my spirit wholly
delivered with my body as my soul
He was my promise;
the promise that had come within
my coming…my birth…my immortality
the origin of me before and after I
and I knew him
for he existed in that moment
and he was mine
my clarity…my opaque reflections
my supposed to be but never meant to happen
And he had taken what he’d already possessed,
what I’d freely given him unbeknownst to myself,
all of me, all of me that existed beyond comprehension
and I hated him with all the love I had for him
for taking me away from me and
leaving none of me for myself
And he existed in that moment
the moment I surrendered
my wrists to the affections of those serrated indentations
and felt his touch upon me once more for the last time,
for it was then when my lips found him abiding
in that warm sanguine comfort
that I knew he was my unrequited soul mate
and just as his presence was the death of me
without him
I could not live
when the absence of sound
coaxed my cerebral contentment to veer from its asylum,
nearing me to the brim of an incessant need to feel
the familiarity of a quelled want
So, I offered my flesh;
palms turned inward, welcoming muted serrated indentations
to nuzzle the cusp of my wrists, kissing with bated breaths
against the cerulean vein beneath the sleeve of cellophane pulses,
dissolving the line conjoining sanity and madness
into a singular coalesced truth
And this truth, this liberation,
released warm sanguine comfort to foster my naked curiosity
and it crept down, slowly, hugging my skin
further emaciating any lingering qualms,
beckoning my lips to touch…to become acquainted with
the unknown urge that had taken over
where sensibility once reigned
And I tasted…I tasted…him
and I knew him and then
he became what he had been:
my quandary…my impasse…my contradiction…my Catch-22
the elemental nourishment vital to my existence
my brio’s depletion,
extracting the sustenance of my spirit wholly
delivered with my body as my soul
He was my promise;
the promise that had come within
my coming…my birth…my immortality
the origin of me before and after I
and I knew him
for he existed in that moment
and he was mine
my clarity…my opaque reflections
my supposed to be but never meant to happen
And he had taken what he’d already possessed,
what I’d freely given him unbeknownst to myself,
all of me, all of me that existed beyond comprehension
and I hated him with all the love I had for him
for taking me away from me and
leaving none of me for myself
And he existed in that moment
the moment I surrendered
my wrists to the affections of those serrated indentations
and felt his touch upon me once more for the last time,
for it was then when my lips found him abiding
in that warm sanguine comfort
that I knew he was my unrequited soul mate
and just as his presence was the death of me
without him
I could not live
Written by Teeya
Go To Page
He Thought About It
Thought about it...
He thought about it a lot
- certainly, a figure of speech;
thought quantity is always immeasurable -
as immeasurable always is
- his thoughts turned to her -
the distance between their eyes in the dark
the dark, that other small infinite between them
"You're not true", he whispered
"I'm not true...
True is unreachable, untenable and unattainable
almost non-existent..."
"Then, reach for the almost true", she whispered back
as she turned her back to him
"Just remember, almost true
is plainly and simply always a mere almost
and never a part of the true..."
He thought about it a lot
- certainly, a figure of speech;
thought quantity is always immeasurable -
as immeasurable always is
- his thoughts turned to her -
the distance between their eyes in the dark
the dark, that other small infinite between them
"You're not true", he whispered
"I'm not true...
True is unreachable, untenable and unattainable
almost non-existent..."
"Then, reach for the almost true", she whispered back
as she turned her back to him
"Just remember, almost true
is plainly and simply always a mere almost
and never a part of the true..."
Written by takis1917
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Anonymous
Related submission no longer exists.
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/361631-nothing/
NOTHING
it was an assemblage of nothing....
I believe I was just a dream
or maybe only a thought... in the blank nothingness.
Every direction I turned, nothing but emptiness stretching to the
edge of the world:
white space and blue/white space,
There were no living creatures in sight. Not a bear, nor a fox,
not even a bird.
Nothing but cognitive content.
Maybe perhaps an outline of a far off something in the
distance ... but, yet, it was all just empty empty empty
Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.
My journey felt more than a thousand miles,
as I scanned the surface for crevasse. One misstep and I'd vanish into a hidden chasm.
Nothing nothing nothing....
NOTHING
it was an assemblage of nothing....
I believe I was just a dream
or maybe only a thought... in the blank nothingness.
Every direction I turned, nothing but emptiness stretching to the
edge of the world:
white space and blue/white space,
There were no living creatures in sight. Not a bear, nor a fox,
not even a bird.
Nothing but cognitive content.
Maybe perhaps an outline of a far off something in the
distance ... but, yet, it was all just empty empty empty
Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.
My journey felt more than a thousand miles,
as I scanned the surface for crevasse. One misstep and I'd vanish into a hidden chasm.
Nothing nothing nothing....
The greatest sin
I spend hours and hour sifting through the flowers
of irrational passion and unsilenced violence
admitted submission and undaunted defiance
like rows and rows of roses rising
from the soil of sin and turmoil within
and I've yet to peer within your book of self
lying there alone on its separate shelf
Untouched Undefined Undefiled Divine
with its uncracked spine so unlike mine
Will you share it with me, may I look inside
at the tempestuous temptations you're attempting to hide
I promise not to tarnish its exquisite cover
nor to bend the delicate petals of its pages
I will guard it like a sacred lover
and keep its secrets safe throughout the ages
let me read aloud what lies therin
for silence is the greatest sin
of irrational passion and unsilenced violence
admitted submission and undaunted defiance
like rows and rows of roses rising
from the soil of sin and turmoil within
and I've yet to peer within your book of self
lying there alone on its separate shelf
Untouched Undefined Undefiled Divine
with its uncracked spine so unlike mine
Will you share it with me, may I look inside
at the tempestuous temptations you're attempting to hide
I promise not to tarnish its exquisite cover
nor to bend the delicate petals of its pages
I will guard it like a sacred lover
and keep its secrets safe throughout the ages
let me read aloud what lies therin
for silence is the greatest sin
Written by archetype23
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