Poetry competition CLOSED 26th February 2021 10:53am
WINNER
DaisyGrace
DaisyGrace
RUNNERS-UP:
anna_grin
and Razzerleaf
Ye Olde English
The_Silly_Sibyl
Tommy or Tuppence
Forum Posts: 393
Tommy or Tuppence
Fire of Insight
1
Joined 30th July 2015
Forum Posts: 393
Bedward
Wind the alarums,
I’m bedward bound.
Just like the man in Psalm 6:6
I swim, though not through
tears of cruel distance from God
but torn pages of guilts
and shame and old pictures.
A sea formed of paper on which
my sins are charted, studied, sketched.
Maybe its distance from God after all
that inspires the sea.
Either way I do not cry,
divorced as modern man so often is
from close relationship
with cat o’ nine scourges, bleeding
the nightly transgressions from back
and shoulder blades.
My closet door yawns wide,
my couch is made and left.
The ancient man was bedward bound
by guilt. The modern is bedward bound,
then free.
He’s invented the subconscious
and locked the guilt inside.
I’m bedward bound.
Just like the man in Psalm 6:6
I swim, though not through
tears of cruel distance from God
but torn pages of guilts
and shame and old pictures.
A sea formed of paper on which
my sins are charted, studied, sketched.
Maybe its distance from God after all
that inspires the sea.
Either way I do not cry,
divorced as modern man so often is
from close relationship
with cat o’ nine scourges, bleeding
the nightly transgressions from back
and shoulder blades.
My closet door yawns wide,
my couch is made and left.
The ancient man was bedward bound
by guilt. The modern is bedward bound,
then free.
He’s invented the subconscious
and locked the guilt inside.
Written by The_Silly_Sibyl
(Tommy or Tuppence)
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Northern_Soul
-Missy-
Forum Posts: 740
-Missy-
Fire of Insight
2
Joined 10th Jan 2021
Forum Posts: 740
Many thanks for your entry, Sibyl 😊
Grace
Idryad
Forum Posts: 14825
Idryad
Guardian of Shadows
111
Joined 25th Aug 2011
Forum Posts: 14825
LOVE DEATH DEPRIVED
art thou in meander
beloved, beneath the silver moon
boon to Hecate
nay, slave
in darkness dine
and I deprived of thee
hath thou courted him
with thy taunt
for scytheman be not spurned
after thy simper of need
thou sealeth thy doom
in death, yea, the yoke
of destiny
or hath thou scorned my love
beloved
thine eyes turned
away from mine teary countenance
for I Jealous of strange attention,
swiftly hath forsaken thee
and turned once more
to behold thee
gone
into the mist of time
with thine own sword
shalt I chant thee
into being, beloved
for death return no souls
grip they tight
with hardy talons
struggle now, but thou shalt not rise
O death shalt I sing to thee
with this dagger
to be with my beloved
mine breath grows cold
wherefore art thou...
the night draweth nigh.
beloved, beneath the silver moon
boon to Hecate
nay, slave
in darkness dine
and I deprived of thee
hath thou courted him
with thy taunt
for scytheman be not spurned
after thy simper of need
thou sealeth thy doom
in death, yea, the yoke
of destiny
or hath thou scorned my love
beloved
thine eyes turned
away from mine teary countenance
for I Jealous of strange attention,
swiftly hath forsaken thee
and turned once more
to behold thee
gone
into the mist of time
with thine own sword
shalt I chant thee
into being, beloved
for death return no souls
grip they tight
with hardy talons
struggle now, but thou shalt not rise
O death shalt I sing to thee
with this dagger
to be with my beloved
mine breath grows cold
wherefore art thou...
the night draweth nigh.
Written by Grace
(Idryad)
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Northern_Soul
-Missy-
Forum Posts: 740
-Missy-
Fire of Insight
2
Joined 10th Jan 2021
Forum Posts: 740
Hi Grace... which word did you base your poem on?
MadameLavender
Forum Posts: 5254
Guardian of Shadows
77
Joined 17th Feb 2013
Forum Posts: 5254
"Swithe Me Therefore", Reeks of Spoofery
Hark, ye lovesick heathens
of Castle Anthrax--
your night hath arrived , and
your knight, has arisen!
Anoint him with elderberries
and coconuts, for
your spanks are but flesh wounds
upon his heart of armor.
Rejoice! O'harpies of lust, for
the grail hath fallen into your hands
at last
with a whispered password :
" 'Tis nine meters per hour
as the unladen swallow, flies".
of Castle Anthrax--
your night hath arrived , and
your knight, has arisen!
Anoint him with elderberries
and coconuts, for
your spanks are but flesh wounds
upon his heart of armor.
Rejoice! O'harpies of lust, for
the grail hath fallen into your hands
at last
with a whispered password :
" 'Tis nine meters per hour
as the unladen swallow, flies".
Written by MadameLavender
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MadameLavender
Forum Posts: 5254
Guardian of Shadows
77
Joined 17th Feb 2013
Forum Posts: 5254
Bedward
What have I done
with another day?
Relics from times when music
wasn't atrocious
flood my vehicle with raw voices --
And me, one bead
on highways of abacus strings
zipping
back and forth
'twixt the frame of work and sleep.
Ah, to drive at night
when few souls are conscious ..
I own the roadways , then,
until I give into
routines of slumber , each
feline, in their places
among my bedding , where
it no longer matters
what happened to the hours .
with another day?
Relics from times when music
wasn't atrocious
flood my vehicle with raw voices --
And me, one bead
on highways of abacus strings
zipping
back and forth
'twixt the frame of work and sleep.
Ah, to drive at night
when few souls are conscious ..
I own the roadways , then,
until I give into
routines of slumber , each
feline, in their places
among my bedding , where
it no longer matters
what happened to the hours .
Written by MadameLavender
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Foreplay
I feel you before
measured footfalls even
register in my ear.
The heat on my neck
nothing to do with my warm kitchen.
I know what I’ll see
should I give in
lock your eyes with mine:
sensible chair centered in my space –
my domain – and you
straddling the seat, leaning
forward onto the back.
Looking your fill.
Searing your want into my
cable knit covered ankles and
calves, nakedness of my
knees and thighs ablaze with your
lingering eyes.
I can only hear crackling music
of rustling adjustment,
the clearing of your throat.
The creaking chair,
rustling adjustment.
I forget whatever I am stirring –
smooth my hair back with damp hands
try to brush the flour from my apron
freeze realization of my
absolute ordinary.
Creaking chair
rustling adjustment
creaking chair
deliberate steps closing
distance between us.
“My Love” brushed just
below my ear places me back
on my axis
and your finger traces my
star map from shoulder
to palm.
measured footfalls even
register in my ear.
The heat on my neck
nothing to do with my warm kitchen.
I know what I’ll see
should I give in
lock your eyes with mine:
sensible chair centered in my space –
my domain – and you
straddling the seat, leaning
forward onto the back.
Looking your fill.
Searing your want into my
cable knit covered ankles and
calves, nakedness of my
knees and thighs ablaze with your
lingering eyes.
I can only hear crackling music
of rustling adjustment,
the clearing of your throat.
The creaking chair,
rustling adjustment.
I forget whatever I am stirring –
smooth my hair back with damp hands
try to brush the flour from my apron
freeze realization of my
absolute ordinary.
Creaking chair
rustling adjustment
creaking chair
deliberate steps closing
distance between us.
“My Love” brushed just
below my ear places me back
on my axis
and your finger traces my
star map from shoulder
to palm.
Written by DaisyGrace
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anna_grin
ilchruthach
Forum Posts: 3089
ilchruthach
Dangerous Mind
15
Joined 24th Mar 2013
Forum Posts: 3089
elflock
i been buying her flowers
and watching how she does it
i been twirling her hair
i can almost pass for grown
and i want it locked
i promise i’m ready
i won’t talk to strangers
i’ll look when i cross
and before i leap
i brush and plait before bed
she guides my hand
i don’t do it every day
sometimes it’s too hard
sometimes i just wanna play
and watching how she does it
i been twirling her hair
i can almost pass for grown
and i want it locked
i promise i’m ready
i won’t talk to strangers
i’ll look when i cross
and before i leap
i brush and plait before bed
she guides my hand
i don’t do it every day
sometimes it’s too hard
sometimes i just wanna play
Written by anna_grin
(ilchruthach)
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to thine own self (and you) be true.
To find that secret place
'Tis once buried;
O' fathomless profound
thine own storied [mis]fortune
pondering the mere slight.
Perhaps thy burning thoughts
of divinely need?
As once, such burden form and fit
when hidden o'er dawn's dewy hilltops
of grassy blades
that cut
a deepest green
mixed
amongst crimson hue'd;
Hence so dense and heavy marked
here, in all acquired bold,
conjoined by sheer providence, now ours.
Keep chested locked in iron clasp
forever shared betwixt
us two,
we poor dire lovely souls.
To now a harmonious
This love,
ventured gained in gold
Written by Bluevelvete
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Insiderew
Rew
Forum Posts: 61
Rew
Fire of Insight
4
Joined 17th Sep 2020
Forum Posts: 61
Uhtceare
When I, bedward, to prepare for a new day
I still get an awful feeling, here, inside
generated by a time that's gone away
but so strongly instilled that that still resides.
'' Thou. Shalt. Not. Be. Late! '' struck terror in my heart
each word thrashed out with his cane upon a desk
each bang each word made everyone of us start
at this foulness of that teacher, so grotesque.
Awake, hour after hour, in my bed, I did
as a kid, lying there, delirious with fear,
all those years passing and me, still not rid
of that cane, smacking down upon my rear.
If only I had known of Uhtceare
and shouted it out as he administered his pain
and '' you're nowt but a rotten Snollygoster! ''
'' your Trumpery phrase has Zwodder'd me, again! ''
I still get an awful feeling, here, inside
generated by a time that's gone away
but so strongly instilled that that still resides.
'' Thou. Shalt. Not. Be. Late! '' struck terror in my heart
each word thrashed out with his cane upon a desk
each bang each word made everyone of us start
at this foulness of that teacher, so grotesque.
Awake, hour after hour, in my bed, I did
as a kid, lying there, delirious with fear,
all those years passing and me, still not rid
of that cane, smacking down upon my rear.
If only I had known of Uhtceare
and shouted it out as he administered his pain
and '' you're nowt but a rotten Snollygoster! ''
'' your Trumpery phrase has Zwodder'd me, again! ''
Written by Insiderew
(Rew)
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Honoria
Forum Posts: 23
Dangerous Mind
22
Joined 22nd July 2019
Forum Posts: 23
The Fudgeler
Day in
And day out
He would work with a smirk.
The stain on his chair-
The mess on his desk,
A ruse to amuse
And just plain grotesque.
His work, under siege
Could leave no response.
With no-blesse disoblige
And great nonchalance.
One day I did notice
His head was a’ slack,
His eyes were shut tight
And his chair reclined back.
Even less was his yield,
I approached madly and swore
I heard a loud belch, and then a soft snore.
As I poked him he startled
and like a stuck pig-
he squealed right out loud
while scratching his wig.
He sputtered
and muttered
again and again,
“Bless us oh Lord.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.”
And day out
He would work with a smirk.
The stain on his chair-
The mess on his desk,
A ruse to amuse
And just plain grotesque.
His work, under siege
Could leave no response.
With no-blesse disoblige
And great nonchalance.
One day I did notice
His head was a’ slack,
His eyes were shut tight
And his chair reclined back.
Even less was his yield,
I approached madly and swore
I heard a loud belch, and then a soft snore.
As I poked him he startled
and like a stuck pig-
he squealed right out loud
while scratching his wig.
He sputtered
and muttered
again and again,
“Bless us oh Lord.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.”
Written by Honoria
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wallyroo92
Forum Posts: 1228
Tyrant of Words
100
Joined 11th July 2012
Forum Posts: 1228
Brabble
Every time I come in here and hear this brabble
I ignore the horde of hard ignorant psychobabble
It’s a slippery slope when I hope to walk on gravel
Because then the idiocy slowly comes to unravel
It's rabble-rabble, but these turkeys like to gabble
Trying to get the last word in as if playing scrabble
Spittin’ nonsense like they’re ready to go to battle
But they fail to grasp that they too are the cattle
They continue to dabble in all this endless haggle
To get their point across but it sounds like gaggle
Sittin’ there all high and mighty in their saddle
Not realizing they’re down the creek without a paddle
And they can never ever handle all this scandal
But unlike Handel, their Messiah was a vandal
They took a chance and it was a fuckin’ gamble
They stirred shit up and then it was just a scramble
Best believe I have ample samples and examples
A stampede of truth that pummels and then tramples
But the rope can be too dangerous when it wrangles
It can strangle when viewing from twisted angles
Don’t argue with assholes who want to grapple
Even if they deserve a karate chop to the Adam’s apple
Their fiendish schemes seem like those of a jackal
And the gibberish feels like it’s an evil feeble cackle
I didn’t mean to ramble or mangle the real cavil
But we gotta drop the hammer like it’s a gavel
And if they continue with their ceaseless babble
Slam the door shut to stop their petty brabble
Written by wallyroo92
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Razzerleaf
Forum Posts: 142
Fire of Insight
3
Joined 15th Sep 2019
Forum Posts: 142
Well done everyone, I have really enjoyed this comp, super idea Missy, thank you. Big congrats to DaisyGrace on taking the trophy. I have enjoyed all the poems and its been really interesting to see the different interpretations on the same themes. Many thanks R
