Poetry competition CLOSED 9th November 2019 00:21am
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MadameLavender
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RUNNERS-UP: Miss_Sub and Brando

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Fire of Insight
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Revelations

 
Shrinks, the tumor in his brain
Thinks, I can think again
Gone, scents of burnt toast
offerings
 
Although
he did admittedly
enjoy it thoroughly
mostly with his morning roast  
or tea  
and eggs
and bacon  
and ...  
 
Absence makes the heart fonder
O! How it yearned
for that bread badly burned
 
Begs the question
now that his sense of
smell has returned,
 
What the fuck STINKS in here?!
 
 
Written by Anarchitect
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Anarchitect said:hiya

at first i thought Shrinks was the name of the tumour. then i re-read

a serious topic, the format chosen to address it brings it into the sphere of everyday-we-can-handle-this ness; using humour to tackle such darkness is a push back against it. whilst a devastating thing for an individual to have to cope with, millions of people are dealing with the same thing—and a brain tumour, today, isn't the automatic death-sentence it was once considered. a very good thing, right?

not sure if the biggest revelation was the tumour/shrunken tumour or the smelly abode
thanks for the entry, anarchitect!

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Fire of Insight
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Revelations

 
somewhere  
geometric steel
took over architecture  
 
half-way between  
exhaust fumes  
& factory lights
 
they say Satan  
makes work  
for idle hands  
 
but they  
never mention  
how real Devils live  
within concrete  
 
scoring old skylines  
with breeze block Gods  
possessive in their  
preaching  
 
every evening  
starlings fly overhead  
waving placard wings
to a cult of progression  
 
though the roads  
are already dead—  
 
we can’t  
translate  
bird.
Written by Miss_Sub (- Missy -)
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Miss_Sub said:hiya

this reads a modernday revelations, biblical allusion underscored by your references to gods and devils, an end-of-days scenario with the starlings, those black and noisy birds, "waving placard wings/to a cult of progression". really liked your "with breeze block Gods/possessive in their preaching". architecture, once a soaring paean to religious beauty at its highest aesthetic, reduced to ugly slab-work and shards of uncomfortable modernity.

appreciate your choice of line/strophe breaks, theme, and overall delivery. the devils in the concrete, indeed: as of 2016, the world's production of concrete produced one eighth of the world's total CO2 emissions, driving global warming ever onwards towards our destruction. a lot addressed in this poem that's worth unpacking.

thanks, missy, for your entry

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Fire of Insight
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Revelations

The leviathan and the dragon are my sides.
They are organs.
Esophageal and real.
A proclamation of myself on her mountain.
The rivers run, the tide shifts, she spills into the pores of our Union.
Records of her days on the city walls.
Whispers of her by strange foes.
Nesting time has come.
Join me in the blankets and throes of Hell.
She is my confession in the zero hour of capture.
Written by Brando (Brandon Hursell)
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Brando said:hey, Brando

you had me doing a little research to see what was waiting to be unpeeled in a poem that, on its surface, holds some ineffable quality that reached out—at the same time full of resolve as a sense of deep sorrow.

your opening sounds like a heraldic coat of arms, mythical creatures representing fire and water, the heights of the sky and the deepest depths of dark oceans, highs/lows/elemental

worn like a badge of honour, but these are 'real', organs... organs under attack? esophagael cancer presents with heartburn; Hell burns, too. so a lot of fire references. the water references are there in balance: leviathon, rivers, pour...

to me, this reads as a confession to a loved one, a revelation about cancer.

i hope this isn't a personal poem, or that i have it all wrong, or that you are in remission.  it's a most thoughtful—and thought-provoking piece. please feel free to reply to me in pm if you'd prefer, or not at all.
thankyou, for this entry,






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Fire of Insight
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Revelations

regarding scenic London
and acreage in France  
among other things
were made manifest
when at the vending machine
bending over for bottled water
hiked was the hem of her Fruedian slip
as she said
Let's just dispense with today's briefings
 
 
Written by PsycoticMastermind
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PsycoticMastermind said:bwahaha, had me seeing a young woman bending over and revealing she'd 'forgotten' to don knickers, accidentally-on-purpose, like

a revelation, for sure thankyou for this entry

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Fire of Insight
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revelations

i said i loved you but i lied
you did not know that’s why i cried
by modest words disqualified
my iceberg base i tried to hide
my lyric lines were filled with vain profusions
i dared not bare my heart’s true revelations

 
i tried to kiss you but your pride
would not my forceful whims abide
too soon for strange lips to collide
or hearts so fragile to confide
and when i told you of my predilection
you said too soon for such blunt revelations

 
my genesis of hope resides
a thorn on eden’s mountainside
how soon might i be justified
by faith that cannot be denied
you said one day despite my taut confusion
you would to me bring sweeter revelations

 
i said i loved you but i lied
love serves not where pale words preside
but dwells—if truth be amplified—
in paradise where angels bide
from genesis through all life’s generations
love’s exodus seeks heaven’s revelations

 
© Copyright 2019 November 03
Written by cabcool
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cabcool said:
hi

carrying on that rhyme scheme throughout, with the alternate couplets of 11 syllables on the end of each stanza of 4 rhymed iambic tetrameter lines? not easy.

a neat tension between 'love' as declared physically and 'love' as an abiding concept of 'god'. this line, especially, i liked, as it's relevant beyond concepts of religion; it is its own truth and, as such, is beautiful:

love serves not where pale words preside

thanks, cabcool, for this technically tricky entry

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Fire of Insight
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diddi said:Revelations


Read the epitaph
before the birth
we're written
in a spell that's cast
upon a viral Earth .


Leather feathers and bird leaves
halo weather,mad cow disease
humans faltered as Earth recedes
plastic castings of trickery
the face , the mask's
all they see .

Revelations of allied nations
Kingdom's rising
regaining elevation
empirically tested
with more invested interest
in our damnation ,we're living totalitarian

A wild stampede
all substrates in need
all known seeds
are buried under lands of green
they think it won't be known
if it ,can't be seen
so when the show really blows
they can start clean.


Numerical in digits
via portals near missed hits
feared land-fills
prophets get blitzed
they want to stamp us
with triple six.





hi, again, diddi

this one drives forward through apocalyptic visions via the engine of rap. works well to deliver your message. dark tones and a take-no-prisoners piece. thanks for your entry!

strong ending with these lines, and all their allusions:

prophets get blitzed
they want to stamp us
with triple six.



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Fire of Insight
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Revelations

 
I unlace
the corset binds of your poetries
contained, confined
 
restrained, quatrained  
strictly in hourglass form
 
allowing you to breathe
at your own pace  
and peace of mind
 
released from the pained  
need to conform
 
free to be yourself with me;  
have a little fun
 
And now that that's done -  
let's see what we can do about  
getting you out of those
panties
 
 
Written by MaryWalker
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MaryWalker said:
cute delivery, though perhaps some find freedom in the 'bondage' of form poetry? so they say... you, well you just want to loosen her up a bit

nicely done, had me smiling, Mary thanks for this entry

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Fire of Insight
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Revelations

 
Ice melts  
ice melts  
ice continues to melt  

Mother Nature freed  
from rampant abuse and
greed  
 
She felt  
she felt  
she couldn't help but feel  
 
need to blow off steam  
overwhelm shore  
from sea to shining sea  
and widen every stream  
 
before  
 
she  
begins  
 
to  
bleed  
stigmatic  
magmatism  
 
core of our system  
having no use for your  
pragmatic capitalism -  
paradise lost at any cost;  
 
belief you can treat her as nothing more  
than dirt and shit and a washed up  
whore of a cash cow  
 
Ice melts  
ice melts  
yields relief  
 
... for now  
 
 
Written by Magnetron
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Magnetron said:
what struck me most in this piece was your imagery... how there's change, change and more change... from solid to liquid—ice to water, mantle to magma. the stigmatic magmatism lines were striking.
appreciate the message: treat mother earth badly, for too long, and she'll do more than shed some tears in the form of melt-water.

thanks!

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Fire of Insight
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Revelations

I was thinking how
I lost a business based
On breastfeeding

Because of cruel predators
Hunting our little kids
Threatening our lives

I lost a son's mind
And I lost my first daughter
In a fog of confusion

When a weird old groomer
Jumped into our midst
Lying and taking our kids

It's what haters do
They hunt, assault,
Lie and confuse

But even more,
They ruined a breastfeeding
Relationship
Built on calm focus and peace

My young daughter (5months)
Drinks from a bottle
So I do not lose
My mind

from mal-ease
Written by EdibleWords
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EdibleWords said: hi, edible

a genuine revelation about your experiences; baring oneself can be both painful yet cathartic. i hope writing this helped some.

i felt your thrid and final strophes to be the most powerful; any parent's nightmare. an uncomfortable-yet-important-to-be-read entry.

thanyou

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MadameLavender said:Revelations


Blood speaks volumes—
I know how you’ll bleed;
Von Willebrand’s
when they cut you open tomorrow.

Genetic hiccup, nasty
antibody to boot, making
my shift, miserable.

I found out its name—
forced it to tattle
like a stool pigeon in test tubes.

I’ll be ready
when the surgeon’s knife drops
that first slice—
I am the anticipator,
the blood banker,
transfusion maven.

You may never know me, but
I know all about you, revealed
in a single tube of blood.
hi, madameL... you had me go look it up:

Von Willebrand Disease. Von Willebrand disease (VWD) is a genetic disorder caused by missing or defective von Willebrand factor (VWF), a clotting protein. VWF binds factor VIII, a key clotting protein, and platelets in blood vessel walls, which help form a platelet plug during the clotting process.


i genuinely enjoyed the originality of this theme, despite the nature of this haemophiliac disease. the wonders of science—how voiceless blood can still speak to those with ears to listen; how lucky are those sufferers this medical knowledge exists to have their backs—how important these steps in understanding our genetics are.

presented in a calm, practical voice, this poem delivers the goods. thankyou for your entry

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Revelations (Framed Daylight)

'So many things I had thought forgotten
Return to my mind with stranger pain:  
 Like letters that arrive addressed to someone  
 Who left the house so many years ago.”  
                          
                        ― Philip Larkin  
   
   
In a still moment, I heard them  
within a profusion of inane other things,  
Burning, caressing absurdities  
with their persistence, their announcement.  
   
Why must I endure them; they only mock  
my sentience with their grandiose visions  
spilling forth like the sweetest wine  
intoxicating sensibilities,  
my logical conclusions stymied.  
   
Oh, revelatory absurdity  
how you tempt me  
to love foolishly,  
unabashedly, fully and fatally.  
   
I cannot live by your temptation alone,  
you are only a dream.  
   
I revel in everything else;  
the raw realness of framed daylight,  
as your lofty clouds drift by me,  
high and afar.  
   
      .....  
   
#PhillipLarkin
Written by PoetsRevenge
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PoetsRevenge said:this reads to me like a double revelation:  the sweet tormenting voices suggesting possibilities in those 'visions' yet, at the same time, a revelation by the poem's narrator that they will not be listened to nor acted upon and that, instead, they will revel in what is real (and achievable) to them. a closing oneself off from the possibilities of love as a form of self-preservation? that's sad.

the image of the framed daylight has me thinking of a person who is too unsure, not mentally prepared to chance walking through the doorway of possibilities. even though the lines don't mention a doorway—might just as well be windows, the 'glass' closing the narrator off from the other side of what is/what could be.

question: obsurdities
since you have absurdity further down, is this word a play on 'obscurities/absurdities', or a typo? i know you're not prone to posting with typos so i just wanted to know

thanks for this entry, Poets_Revenge



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Fire of Insight
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Revelations

Sometimes we see beauty on the outside
  for all intents and purposes,
Because some secrets are never meant to be known,
But when the real story rises up and surfaces,
The truth can be chilling down to the bone.
Revelations are awakenings, a significant beckoning,
Making us see the true condition for what it’s worth,
It can be very revealing, disturbing and unfeeling,
But you get to walk in the light from that point forth.
Written by wallyroo92
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wallyroo92 said:hey, wallyroo

well, there's no arguing with the points your poem make: the face of beauty doesn't always reflect the truth inside. to face the revelations can be a life-altering event—but truth? it sets us free. important message to take away with us as readers.

thanks for this entry, wally!


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Ia Ia Cthulhu Fhtagn - Armageddon Has Begun

 Below the Sea of Galilee
In a cauldron of tar, and salinity
Where no life can survive
The dark evil incarnate did arise

From the mysterious depths
Of the bottomless pit it leapt
The Beast was not the metaphor
Of ancient gospels’ lore

But an immense physical manifestation
A mountain of all that is evil, incarnation
Each inhalation of his respiration
Stole light from Earth's horizon

Expelling sulfured air in exhalation
His putrid breath was an abomination
With his right paw he swept away Gaza
With his left he crushed all of Mecca

Then looking towards the heavens in triumph
In a grotesque glare of defiance
He bellowed a hideous howl of victory
So all God’s children clutched their ears in agony

Except for the one, the one called Abaddon
Who greeted the ‘Living Darkness’ with adulation  
“Ia Ia Cthulhu Fhtagn,  Ia Ia Cthulhu Fhtagn!”
“My Great Lord, begin the Armageddon!”
Written by snugglebuck
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snugglebuck said:so many names for darkness, so many for light... when will religions come to term that whatever we call them, they're the same? and how dreadful acts done in the name of any religion are still unholy.

these lines spoke to me through the imagery they created, perhaps more than any others in your poem:

Each inhalation of his respiration
Stole light from Earth's horizon


the idea of that, the sucking away of light/hope/future. a heavy, heavy image

thankyou so much for your entry, snugglebuck  

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okies, winners and runners up are posted. madameLavender, the originality of your theme, the concept of blood 'speaking' its revelations, is such an important one. missy's was so packed with backstory it was a close close thing, and Brando's... well, if i read it right (it's what i took from it, anyway), so visceral. congrats!

you guys made this one HARD!

special mentions to jade for her important piece and mary walker for something that balanced out seriousness with humour so well, and cabcool for committing to and delivering such a tricky form!

all of you made this a journey for me. my head is indeed reeling from revelations, my mind—burning

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HA!  just checked this and it has had 666 views

:devilspawn:

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