Poetry competition CLOSED 27th March 2021 7:14am
WINNER
Razzerleaf
Razzerleaf
Page:
Complete bollocks
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
A Tinted Throwback
In love with the vision
of you on crumpled sheets
among patterns and colours of poppies
smoke curling to the ceiling
tea to lips, piping hot
fingers touching silky skin
after a warm shower
visions of you, perfection
of you on crumpled sheets
among patterns and colours of poppies
smoke curling to the ceiling
tea to lips, piping hot
fingers touching silky skin
after a warm shower
visions of you, perfection
Written by Grace
(IDryad)
Go To Page
My Poetry Hose
My wife thinks I’m cheating on her with my poetry hose
I suppose my verse comes close to being fully exposed
So when I compose I like to be a little gross and verbose
But unlike pros, my prose probes propositions to oppose
She says: That’s indecent, what are you trying to disclose?
I’ve been known to hone in on the zone with a racy tone
The titter and titillation helps keep everyone on their toes
But these are not pornos so leave my poor nose alone!
It’s cheeky, sassy, asinine and full of innuendoes
The slurs can spur a little gentle mental stimulation
If it’s getting warm perhaps we need a larger dose
Then with poetic cunning I’ll try to master insinuation
My poetry hose shows promise but it’s not grandiose
It’s a thick thesaurus thoroughly thrilled with making light
It won’t blow your mind or leave the readers comatose
But it'll swerve and curve to serve the pervs just right
Written by wallyroo92
Go To Page
The day you caught the train
The net curtains float lace patterns
projected on magnolia,
thin sunlight warms our bed covers,
white cotton wrapped as loin cloth,
tight against smooth skin.
The mornings bore runs busy in the street,
scaling walls to chatter at our window.
Your shape slides beneath my hand,
warmth cools as I sigh deeper
and you check the alarm clock.
I save another wasted frame,
a rotting petal pressed between memories.
The bartender wants my glass,
no final drop to sip from you,
Your tongue has tripped, the lies let slip.
This day you will leave, and me;
packing for the journey I can't take.
A could never be, lovers embrace
belies the two who's eyes are fake,
something we buried in this place.
projected on magnolia,
thin sunlight warms our bed covers,
white cotton wrapped as loin cloth,
tight against smooth skin.
The mornings bore runs busy in the street,
scaling walls to chatter at our window.
Your shape slides beneath my hand,
warmth cools as I sigh deeper
and you check the alarm clock.
I save another wasted frame,
a rotting petal pressed between memories.
The bartender wants my glass,
no final drop to sip from you,
Your tongue has tripped, the lies let slip.
This day you will leave, and me;
packing for the journey I can't take.
A could never be, lovers embrace
belies the two who's eyes are fake,
something we buried in this place.
Written by Razzerleaf
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:
RiAN, Bluevelvete, Billy_Snagg, _feral, lepperochan, Gyco, Penguinphile, Marks, Scolar37, Tallen, MyEyeDelight, Bonzi, Insiderew, Josh, Phantom2426, dislecksic
Thank you to the following members for voting:
RiAN, Bluevelvete, Billy_Snagg, _feral, lepperochan, Gyco, Penguinphile, Marks, Scolar37, Tallen, MyEyeDelight, Bonzi, Insiderew, Josh, Phantom2426, dislecksic
