Poetry competition CLOSED 1st May 2020 11:03am
A public vote has been requested
Go to page:

Official DUP NaPo/GloPoWrimo 2020 Competition

Harry Nichols
Twisted Dreamer
United States
1awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 1st Sep 2018
Forum Posts: 35



I took him by the hand, my sense restored
and fleeing, led him to a ditch beneath
a shed’s foundation, where the dead were stored.
The opening was scarce enough to squeeze
in his emaciated state, but still
it served, best chance to slip the guard
which soon with fury searched the barren grounds.
Myself forgotten in the wake of it,
the corpse of guard instead like wolves did hunt
the murderer of their beloved chief,
who on them showered spoils at our expense.
For thirty days I brought the boy his food
and stood in watch as he relieved himself,
covering in grateful love the port
blanketing sweet Hul in shadow-dark
that, much against its inclination, saved
his ghost to later be devoured, my shame.
Wandering one evening by the gate,
I came upon a guard in drunken sleep,
his post to guard, an opening in the fence
that some unwitting animal had made.
I took the chance; I woke the boy to whom
I owed my safety, thorugh his impulse bought.
Returning there, he scrambled thorugh the hole
which scarce was large enough for bone and skin,
and thorugh which I could not escape despite
my effort-- loathe was I to wake the guard.
There in equal admiration we two stood
on either side of that partition-steel
that severed night and day, the light and dark
distinguished ends of that continuum,
and knew that this would end our mutual
protection. Then, young Hul began to speak:
I will return! I’ll find another way
for your escape! There must be something else
along the fence, another gap not watched.
I’ll find you when I have it. Stay alive.

I said I would, and waited nine more months,
in patient hope. He never did return.

Fire of Insight
United States
3awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 29th Mar 2017
Forum Posts: 347

3 of 30

Joining History

This is the year
I decided
to learn how to make pie.

Everything from scratch pie.

The kind of pie all the women before me
would be tickled pink
to show off at
church dinners.  

Generations of women before me
leaned over their kitchen counters,
cutting lard into flour,
pinching salt,
adding just enough water
to make a dough.
Store bought wasn’t an option,
and when it became one,
they were too proud.

Hands on my kitchen counter,
I sent up a prayer
and pictured Grossmommy
in her plain Mennonite clothes
and Great-Mamaw from
some Sweetwater, Tennessee holler
standing on either side of me -
willing my hands not to be hot,
so not to melt the shortening,
reminding me to touch the dough
as little as possible,
telling me when I’d added enough water.

They whispered heritage into the morning air
while apple peels piled
in coils on my countertop.
Sprinkling cinnamon and sugar
until a memory said stop.

Rolling out dough,
leaning over my kitchen counter,
I imagine myself as history –

with them.

Strange Creature
  profile   poems   message
Joined 31st Mar 2020
Forum Posts: 6

#3 of 30

This is Where;

Aww my heart, just my heart....

I'm nervous…



This is where;

I've felt much much more impaired by people's reactions to my "impairments",

And the total frustration about not being seen, heard, 

In regards to much, 

Or pretty much anything....

Societally speaking for as far back as I can remember...

No one knew me, how could they know my needs?

How could I not hide my face and my suffering?

As the wolves ate me alive....

From a small child socially and emotionally....

To people in libraries being abusive...

And then trying to gang up on me...

Intimidate me,

Threaten me with physical violence...

Because I was very much triggered by your albiesm,

And started swearing about the situation

This goes right back to that asshole little boy who would not let me ride in his wagon too, because I…

"Had googley eyes"

And I got mad...

His bigger sister came to TRY AND SHUT ME UP...so I threw sand in her fucking face...

Aaaannnndddd she almost beat me up…

Yay me…

This is where;

I do have troubles with my motor skills....I fall down every single day...

This is where;

I have more problems about people laughing that a little girl is falling, and sometimes physically injured though...

I have problems with all the assumption that the teenager with cerebral palsy who is getting physically tired...Therefore staggering….Is drunk off her ass

I have problems with that boy who thought it was okay (was kind of a friend before incident)...to spit on me

This is where;

I'm tired of all the intimidation and violence...and things in our structure I'm not supposed to be;

And the feelings you tell me I can't feel, and the viewpoints I shouldn't have....

This is where;

Equality itself is a fucking fallicy 


It's what the high ups say to the trampled to shut people up...

Ill-motivated verbal seduction and incentive...

We see it in politics ALL THE TIME

This is where;


It is not a mutually beneficial relationship

I don't feel I have a mutually beneficial relationship with society....

This is where;

I wasn't given the opportunity...

*End rant*

Wait...Why was I never, given a chance?

Tyrant of Words
United States
85awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 11th Apr 2015
Forum Posts: 5962


[ NapoWriMo 2020 Collection ] Survival
Part I - Existence

Griffon vultures, mangled flesh
compressed betwixt beaks,
glared at the trio, plodding
dangerously adjacent to their banquet—

the bleak topography
of bespeckled cadavers
prompted confused bewilderment
between the triad, who glanced
wordlessly toward the other

Gurgled hisses and tonal shrieks
ensued their footsteps—
piercing expressions
against an unwelcome presence

In the expanse, movement
caught their disorienting arc eye—
as fatigue and hunger
shadowed their footfalls  
. . .

Fire of Insight
United States
4awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 11th Aug 2016
Forum Posts: 85



Another rainy day tucked away from humanity
With no end in sight, we're in fright of this insanity
Watching from captivity as the trees are metamorphosing
Growing colorful leaves, indicating the coming of Spring

Will the birds still sing and make a joyful noise?
Will they too grow frantic or maintain their poise?
Will Queen Bee still deploy her boys to go pollinate?
Or will she, by decree, say that they have to isolate?

No more dates for the birds and the bees
As they're tucked away in hives & in trees
Could this be what's prophesied in revelations?
Is this the eclipse of Mother Nature's final equation?

Twisted Dreamer
United States
3awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 25th Mar 2018
Forum Posts: 114


And So It Pounds

Hearing my own heartbeat reverberate in my skull
Feeing each best as my pulse keeps its rhythm
Steady as always and yet feels so much more
Like a jackhammer to my bones, a pleasure unbidden
As I sink to the floor hoping coolness will prevail
Using my hands ice cold as a sort of ice pack
Only temporary relief do I find in them
Turning off the lights doesn’t pick up the slack
Vision blurry from the pain, yet I can still read
All of the cantankerous words that appear on my screen
And before i can utter even one syllable, a word
They’re daunting and taunt as I’ve lost my place
Oh vile ache in my head I wish you to be gone!
Away from this place and your home in my head!
But never fear for this I swear I will keep on
With the helping hand and sweet embrace of slumber

Unique words: 109

Sabrina Kirk-Caldwell
Thought Provoker
United States
5awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 29th June 2018
Forum Posts: 288



And bard/apothecary, Tobias, spoke about that beast called kelpie.
Said it lived in Pearlhart bay, but also doth wanders betwixt Deadwood forest, where can't be heard, each plea.
This creature is fortold to kill until time's end,
Dragging poor souls into watery grave's decent.
We didn't believe aught, until torn asunder, by accident.

Dangerous Mind
United States
11awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 27th June 2012
Forum Posts: 41



Don’t blame the asshat who ate the bat sandwich, that’s not productive / Don’t gab about fucking up shit / Just find the uptick / The shit underneath the bars / Go spit that sun moon and stars / Flow sick with fun bars / Lyrical comets kicking / Instead of chronic conditions / Bubonic revisiting / Home-brews and tonics who’re you kidding? / Wish I could get back to Economic Hitmen and ground sharks / Crowning sparks from crude groove / Stomping fake dudes who never paid dues / Like “Hey, do NOT taunt Cthulhu!” / But that’s not what moves. Not used to shit leaking from my eyes / Weak ties will either bleed and starve or feed and evolve in a world that crawls / Pearls seem so small / Self-made but so weak / And so begins the decade of indiscrete freaks / Naked bold / The Greatest Story never told / Until the world was severed by a cold / What it took to put the stupid-ass Culture War on hold / The math stopped on the ad hoc scold front / Like times of old we remember what matters / Expectations shattered / Domestic battery / Stress collateral / So matter of factual / Hidden depths escape / Breath paced / Natural state / Capture that place / Windows break / Thin roads to take / Red Codes / Forget what you were told / That news is 20 minutes old / Finished before it unfolded / Wrong story arc / Longboarding after dark, getting right with the ground / Feeling the night in this ghost town / A real slice of life, slowed down

Fire of Insight
United States
8awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 12th July 2017
Forum Posts: 122


How to Forget You

I will fill my head with the verses that speak through every withered bone, replacing thoughts and pictures I was hiding
“Chase them out,” I say

My mouth will tell a better story than the one you read so slowly
And closed the chapter with your lips
Today, that story is replaced by a newfound realization that I exist on more than lines of a page

Finally, I will shut my eyes away from letters, gifts, your body
To keep them in the dark, where they will stay. I’m opening up. To find the things that I once loved. Distractions have been eliminated. I’ve made my mind up permanently

And that is how I’ll forget your name.

Dangerous Mind
8awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 7th Jan 2018
Forum Posts: 1188

#4 of 30

How to Love the Difficult?

Somebody gets too focused  
some would say...
quite obsessive  

Sometimes it's a  
person  with shine
sometimes it's a shiny new skill...

Sometimes it's an idea

the kitchen
is the opposite

Barely tolerated

Not even a place
where creativity
Easily flows...

Kitchen isn't a safe place  
All the things  
a tricky road crossing  

Ever felt creative  
about crossing the road  


Bet you know why...

same reason  

Nobody feels safe
crossing the road  

Tyrant of Words
28awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 15th Oct 2018
Forum Posts: 1675

(four of 30 - Official DUP NaPo/GloPoWrimo 2020)

Sigh. . .
another evening
another night

I hugged the 2nd pillow
tighter this ebb’d spring
in the desert
for no reason
other than I am preparing
to dream –
lonely. . .

. . .Memories of
Yes, they knew,
understood my
my need
for intimacy

As I coddle my pillow this night
as many past nights
& nights to come
i am reminded that I need
to be kinder to myself.

74 words  
52 unique

Nathaniel Peter
Fire of Insight
United States
19awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 18th Sep 2017
Forum Posts: 494


The After-Death

The sun ate the world today

When what we trusted to give us light

Was the apocalypse of everything we loved

Daylight betrays us

And everything is a shadow

When life in the here and now

Is just death waiting to happen

We exist as time bombs

Damaging everyone

Left in the wake of destruction

We are born and we die beyond our control

From womb to graveyard

All that we have is what's in the dash

From first years to last breath

And it all happens so fast

Processed by life, what do we hold onto

There's nothing worth missing

But those that we love of eternal value

Yet all we know is but a season in the vapor

Till we see them again

When we are God's expression of poetry

Speaking beyond just something beautiful on paper

What is amiss when we are lost for someone found

Every loved one an echo

And I can hear them in an everlasting sound

As the waves outlive the blast of the past

The future is set to reunite us in the end

When all is said and done

When love becomes loss

Our hope is to once again see someone

What I miss the most about the end of the world

Is nothing of the world itself

But the spirits behind the beauty

That lives beyond the mortal shell

And what is the fury of a bleakness in the after-death

It is not fire that is the torment of hell

But a separation beyond anxiety

Yet hopelessness beyond a last farewell...

Tyrant of Words
54awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 25th Apr 2013
Forum Posts: 558

autumnal miscellany {&} minutiae v ~

stirring sencha with razorblades, strain hammer'd leaves____
a sip too sweet in the black belly ov your resonance
snagg'd on honey'd edges:- the tatters
stick in my throat
little rags to mop up skeleton keys {&} moments
scor'd by my racing heart...
... breathe around sever'd tongues;
a lifetime ov us in sweet spit {&} rumor
inhale terror
exhale consent
lungs fluttering like cag'd birds*
startl'd into existence from unhatch'd potential

Fire of Insight
United Kingdom
2awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 15th Sep 2019
Forum Posts: 82


Put your keys in the opal fruit bowl

It was one of those parties
everyone was juiced
and all the wrappers
were slowly coming off.

Four pairs of cherry lips
were all over some candy cigarette
who was claiming to be a footballer,
said he had a photo to prove it.
Dolly Mixture had arrived with Mint Imperial
but she said he was too smooth
for his own good and left him
for three chocolate mice,
that had been pretending to be blind
in the ladies toilets.
Dolly looked great in her strawberry lace
holding up her whips,
the mice giggled every time they saw the walnut.

A couple of old fruit pastels were watching
a lion at the bar and feeling brave
asked him for a lick of his nuts.
He said you two are sweet
meet me upstairs in ten but be discrete
I have a reputation to keep.
So they tied him to the bed
and took pictures of his chewy centre.

Things began to melt,
liquorice wheels started to unwind
spreading themselves around the room.
A gang of 'A' sexual  Gummy bears
had popped a tube of smarties
and were getting fresh with some polo mints
using liquorice torpedoes to fill the hole,
Oh I cant cope with this cried a fruit gum
who had been following a big stick of rock
that was so drunk he could only say Blackpool,
the fruit gum took that as yes and started to undress.
Pear drops were shakin that ass on the dance floor
watch by a toffee apple that was rotten to the core
more drinks lads she asked, tipping sherbet
into the Tizer that made their bulls eyes pop.
Stick with me boys I want them lolipops.
The cellophane rustling got so loud,
that the false teeth arrived to break it all up
fortunately they kept falling out,
and more cherry lips put a stain on there collar.

An Everton mint had been hiding on a striped rug
claimed he was a vicar, showed them his dog collar
and said your all going to swell, smell, Hell ! then he fell,
put a crack in his shell,
and that was the only encouragement
the gummy bears needed.

Tyrant of Words
35awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 6th July 2014
Forum Posts: 62


The Silence Of Regret

(c) Sweet Oblivion 4.4.20
You soak my body with the ink of souls,
Whose stories you have written on my skin;
I hear your heartbeat and it seems to mould
Itself within my core, as you begin
To relate tales of people gone so quiet,
That no one dares to whisper anymore:
They move apart, avoid and take the diet,
Prescribed by those who make each wretched law:
To rein all in and keep masses in line;
Unlike the silky pads of fingers, which
Let you scrawl sweet romances on my back,
Aligning your experience to rich
Delights; we escape life, and we forget
The dryness of the silence of regret.

82 unique words
107 words

Go to page:
Go to: