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OFFICIAL DUP Glo/NaPoWriMo 2021 Competition

Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 31st Dec 2015
Forum Posts: 800



so we digress
into our yard
past the garden
wooden bench
to the swing
sad and tattered
faded thing

you relax
into its frame
tell me
dad pull it high
not that high I think
mindís eye

to the strap
around the tree
that rubs up
a knotted limb
everything is
no end to oneís

so when you
look at me
and ask
for a little of
my best
precious stash
of attention
itís my pleasure
to say yes

Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 18th Sep 2018
Forum Posts: 241


Auto Pilot

Attention steady wanders
Mind over matter
Obsolete thoughts squander
Silent pitter patter
Tour guide central
Trapped for days
Illustrious disturbed mental
Mouse blueprinted maze
Sight seems blind
Black hole space
Empty sounds bind
Entity no face
Downward funnel spiral
Abyssal swallowed pit
Self-destruct made final
Time suffering whit
Principles flutter dim
Speech echoes ears
Prisoner from within
Uncharted mass fears
Zombified act illusion
Diluted motor skills
Uncompliant heir confusion
Trek massive hills
Lonely inner meditation
Third eye purpose
Self-loathing humiliation
True intentions surface
Emotion drowned tears
War created riot
Insufficient sufferable years
Sub-conscience auto pilot

Dangerous Mind
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Joined 18th Nov 2015
Forum Posts: 464


Love with fur on it

Itís my fervent wish for just one day
to get out of my own damn way
and live the life of this dog.

So utterly shameless and content in his fur,
never stewing and stressing
over whether that bark was misconstrued,
or offense taken at his effusive wagging.

To sit with certain hope and expectation
of veggie scraps falling like manna from heaven
and yet without an ounce of resentment
when such treats fail to appear.

To lie spread-eagled in absolute trust,
open to belly rubs and assurance of his goodness,
embodying that goodness at every turn
with unconditional snuggles,
eyes overflowing love,
and empathy so warm you can touch it.

Tyrant of Words
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Joined 23rd Nov 2013
Forum Posts: 1582


Seems Like A Personal Ad

When sober he's quiet, keeps to himself,
doesn't wanna do anything but lay on
the couch all day, play with his phone,
watch TV. When he drinks, heís ready
to conquer the world,

becomes the Latin king of salsa,
the do-it-yourself- home-improvement guy,
the antagonist who knows everything
about nothing at all, the Swedish chef  
of hotdogs

ólaugh if you must, It is kinda funnyó
until he offers you a bite and wont take
no for an answer!

I just, I need more, I need a companion
who likes to read; who likes to do puzzles,
who wouldn't mind sharing a poem or two
maybe engage in intellectual conversations
with different points of view.

Someone who likes to cook with their mate,
enjoys looking out into the stars, who likes
to take care of you when youíre sick, because
they love youó Not because they have to.
He's none of these things...

Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 21st Aug 2013
Forum Posts: 686


Music Passion Six

Opera Act Two

Performing in
ďUn ballo in maschera,Ē
a Giuseppe Verdi creation,
transcendent fortune to sing
a superbly staged Opera

More than musically inspiring
a boon to my thespian education
taught to look and act menacing
a  talent executed lacklusterly

Also coached to kiss and caress
a beautiful Soprano, most alluring
a skill I learned with much alacrity
and enjoyed very much rehearsing

the romantic tryst took place down stage
during the final masked ball scene
near the mark where the tragic Diva
would soon lay perishing

Unique words: 67 (4 words used in quotation removed}

Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 25th Mar 2018
Forum Posts: 151


Go Away

Who told you you could come back into my life?
Did you look for the cracks that was only seen in the light?
Why do you try to haunt and annoy me so?
When I wish you would take your abuse and just go!
Go far away from me and donít ever look back
I donít wish to always be waiting for an attack
You took my trust when I was younger and threw it away
Itís not my fault it took you so long to realize the mistake youíve made
I was dumb and naive to every think I could trust you
You berated and abused me this much is true
Iíve got 99 problems but you wonít be one
Stop trying to find me and let this all be done!

Unique words: 86

Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 21st May 2020
Forum Posts: 49



my little plants i love you so
i play you music, classical
sometimes upbeat some low key
anything beautiful makes you happy
your little tendrils reach up high
your very being my my my
i nurture your soil so you may grow big and strong
your roots grow deep thick and long
i wonder if one day you'd like to live outside
to breathe in the fresh air and give the wilderness a try
i ask you and you say probably not
we really do like these little clay pots

65 UWC

Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 11th Aug 2016
Forum Posts: 136



We awake amongst each other on a daily
Enraptured in your strong arms on a nightly
Severity of your embrace fluctuates at times
On a scale of 1-10 many say that you're a dime

It should be a crime for you to have such a grip on us
Just for some time away we'd gladly ride in the back of the bus
No fuss nor cuss, just us having a moment of solace
You're so controlling that some want to join Christopher Wallace

Cause your malice is like an iron fist in a velvet gloved hand
Those who aren't afflicted with your addiction just don't understand
It can be a chore just to stand and walk a few paces
Without you popping up in an array of various places

We're faced with popping pills in order not to feel you
More times than not, even that wish doesn't come true
Do you know who we're talking to? Are we going insane?
No, we're not. We're just trying to maintain while living with chronic pain

Joshua Bond
Tyrant of Words
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Joined 2nd Feb 2017
Forum Posts: 960



In order to detach, a special choice
uniquely on my path lies waiting free
and many times I face its quiet voice
calling, calling amidst cacophony

Its early morning silence sits in mist
absorbing countless thoughts that clutter up
a recognition of the secret bliss
evaporating quickly ó and the buck

will always stop with me, I am the node
of consciousness which tries to figure out
the path to walk back home to my abode
subtly pencilled in ó it will not shout

and little written yet is truly me,
itís mere grasping at straws quite haplessly.

Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 12th Apr 2018
Forum Posts: 54


i'm not sure why you tried to brush the leaves still on

i have more to say to you
but never will
youíre deep enough
burrowed in your den
&my words barely even
have meaning
when youíre looking for them

our fierceness pulled the life
right out of our skin
&iím glad you had
a softer place than me to fall
it was unbreakable
the tree we'd watered
but it would only ever shrivel up
with acid rain, or none at all


Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom
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Joined 4th Dec 2018
Forum Posts: 1313

#16 of 30

Seeds Of Anger

Seeds of anger that grow inside
Tendril roots spreading
Rage in a cage
Always waiting patiently
To burst forth

voice raised as body shakes
Uncontrollable feelings
Pushing through invisible barriers
Undiscovered monster let loose
Upon the unsuspecting world

Just like nuclear meltdown
Chain reaction splitting human atoms
Surging seething senses
Exploding focal point
Then instant shame and regret  

Unique word count 58
Total word count 58

Fire of Insight
United Kingdom
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Joined 15th Sep 2019
Forum Posts: 267



I had both arms inside your hanging cage
you didn't even offer me a stool,
did the lumps of meat you shook taste strange
was I the only tamer that you fooled.

You'll always be the first to taste the kill
our cubs may fight but know the scent of blood.
I'll wait to eat so you can take your fill
then lick them clean so that they know they're loved.

With mud soaked pride I offer you a fall,
and watch the flight of reason as it runs.
I take my stand yet you still make me crawl
the April floods have only just begun.

The water hole is poisoned with my stink
so I relax and watch you take the drink.

Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 20th Mar 2015
Forum Posts: 5063


It would have been a comical sight if the situation wasn't so dire.

The Dwarves were up to their bearded chins in cold water, standing in the dammed up waters of the Forked Up River. A huge wall of logs prevent the waters from flowing down a hill, while they were imprisoned by tree limbs tied   into a makeshift cell.

Nearby on dry land, Larry the Werebadger stoked a fire underneath a cauldron of boiling water.

"The key to cooking Dwarf is boiling them alive like Mudbugs, but only after a long, cold soak," said the mighty, striped beast. "It excites the juicy parts and enhances any armpit aromas."

Barry the Werebeaver heavily objected. "I'm starving! Let's just squash the little buggers into jelly pies and be done with it already!"

"Hey!" shouted slipalong. "Why don't you foul animals go jump in a lake!"

Many a Dwarf groaned, as they were already up to their necks in water themselves.

"Really?" grumbled brokentitanium "Is that best you could do?"

"Ironically speaking, we're soon to be in hot water," said Thetravelingfairy.

"Com'on! We're suppose to be poets!" insisted Misfitpoet89. "We can do better!"

The Werebadger towering above began poking at them with a stick to see which of the Dwarves was the plumpest. "Is it juicy? Is it ripe? Is it scrummmmmptious?" he asked.

"STOP BADGERING US!" Honoria shouted.

Many a Dwarf cheered! Sometimes it takes a situation of duress for one to finally tap into their poetic side.

"Don't fret, Mates," said Zazzles. "The others will rescue us any minute now. They always do. You'll see."

Unfortunately, not long afterwards, their optimism was dashed liked a sprinkling of paprika as homophonous Harry lumbered into the clearing dragging a large, burlap satchel. He lifted up the ceiling of wooden prison over the heads of the Dwarves and dumped the remaining members of the Fellowship out of the bag into the chilly river water.

"Hahaha!" laughed the giant Werewoodchuck. "Fooled you, didn't we? And it was like taking candy from a baby troll!"

"Ganjosh!" cried Ghaddess_Worship in despair. "What in the realm of Muddle Earth shall we do now?!" NaPoWriMo seemed like a faraway dream.

The Gray Gecko shrugged his shoulders with a slight splash, at an absolute loss for a course of action that would free them. His magic staff was still somewhere in the burlap bag!

"No worries," said Jaragorn, spitting out a mouthful of water. He was quite confident that everything would turn out alright.

Ahavarwen added, "Besides, this is good practice. It wouldn't be NaPoWriMo if someone wasn't trying to eat us!"

Nathaniel Peter
Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 18th Sep 2017
Forum Posts: 587



My heart is heavy as my eyes are dim
Even color is black and white in the self-made grim

I am a drop of water circling the drain
Letting out every ounce of myself
Staging joys with the undertone of whispering pain

Growth between celebration
Moments donít last
All I have are memories
A beautiful and tortured past

Living lifetimes, side by side
Humble beginnings versus the height of my pride
Love told true in sincerity, in action lied
Lost inside duality
The sinner and the justifiedÖ

Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 20th Mar 2015
Forum Posts: 5063


[ Dreamscapes And Nightmares ] Involuntary Reflexes

It's not always easy to remember
that there are more stories
within waiting to be told
than can be written in a day

I know

Been there, done it
spent an entire April writing poetry
running circles around the old self
who often sat stumped
in a rainforest of inspiration

Regardless, limitation remains

---there's only so much
afforded in between eating, chores
relaxing, travels, grocery shopping
and of course, sleeping . . .

that whole third of our lives
we insist we're comatose
and unproductive slugs

in which the poetry comes
more effortlessly in the form
of our nocturnal dreams
than seemingly anything else
with the exceptions of breathing
and fear of bugs

So, when that voice inside proclaims
I'm out of ideas to write about!
stop holding your breath
until your face turns blue

Close your eyes

Clear your head

It will come wiggling and crawling
out of fertile soil to you instead
of you forcing a poem into existence
struggling to pull it from the ground
by hand, roots and all

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