Go to page:

OFFICIAL DUP Glo/NaPoWriMo 2021 Competition

Tyrant of Words
United States
111awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 11th July 2012
Forum Posts: 1376


The Misfit So Alone

On a sleepless night I recall on the past
Of old days when I was young in school
Of the friendships we thought would last
And how desperately I wanted to be cool

There was something about the in-crowd
And how popular so many wanted to be
And though we never really said it out loud
Some wished to be like them to a degree

It’s in our nature to be accepted
Even if we didn’t know how to speak
Deep down we want to be respected
Flaws and all makes us each unique

This is for the eccentrics and the misfits
To those outcasts who felt pressure to fit in
You were rebels under a constant blitz
But at least you were true and didn’t give in

And somehow being different made you cool

135 Words
92 Unique

Dangerous Mind
8awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 18th Nov 2015
Forum Posts: 733


Down to the wire

It’s too late; I’m out of time
for all the stuff that’s on my mind
I have to spit some words out, right?
Less than an hour ‘til midnight
I’d planned a poem to stir the soul
but I fell down a rabbit hole
of intellectual masturbation
leading to deep procrastination
Perennial wisdom is what I sought
instead, these rhymes are all I’ve got.

Tyrant of Words
United States
34awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 21st Aug 2013
Forum Posts: 690


Music Passion Ten

Bluegrass Roots and Country

Appalachian Summer Night
a front porch congregation
drinking moonshine get’n tight
on cigar box guitar someone strums
banjo lends its lively voice  
effervescent fiddle joins
washtub bass and whiskey jug
In tandem mark the beat
washboard adds its joyful noise
singing songs of a sobering nature
of hard times been and coming
ever present death, old time religion
love’s conquest, evil’s defeat
t’was the place of Bluegrass birthing
where seed was planted and nurtured

I was to Bluegrass enticed
like sultry dulcet siren’s call
by the angelic voice of Alison Krauss
singing “When You Say Nothing At All”

Memories of roots music
garnish my life
grandma played piano
In a teetotaling jug band
around the campfire
dad would play to my delight
his ukulele and banjo
our smiles framed by firelight
while we sang
“You Are My Sunshine,”
“Home on the range,” and
“This Land is Your Land”

When much younger
Country music I berated
considering it low class,
thoroughly uneducated
now much older
ostensibly wiser
I empathize more
with this storytelling genre
and its honest depiction
of the human condition

Unique words: 146

Tyrant of Words
23awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 23rd Nov 2013
Forum Posts: 1628

After the smoke clears

Pushing past the anger I allow myself to feel again.
I really haven’t spent too much time reflecting,
mostly because I’ve been here before.

Seems to me, each time gets easier to let go
I think that true love between two people
is far more rare than any of us realize.

As corny as this may sound, the truest
love is the one you give to yourself.
All these years I’ve been looking for
the perfect mate to make me happy
when in reality I’ve been here all a long ...

Twisted Dreamer
United States
4awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 25th Mar 2018
Forum Posts: 151



The days always seem to go by too fast
In a moment it’s here, then breathes it’s last
Leaving little time to compare and contrast
The sands are gone, filtering through your grasp
Still looking for answers through the air
Though long ago stopped the others care
Which leaves you alone standing there
To time a slave. And long ensnared
There isn’t much you can really do
But stand there and compare just a moment or two
But time moves on with you as is your due
While you lay awake, to simmer and stew

Unique words: 70

Twisted Dreamer
United States
1awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 21st May 2020
Forum Posts: 49



feeling heartbeats through your feather hoof
wrapped around the tip of my tentacle
in the rich worlds that exist just beyond the veil
no space
no time
no limits
not in the way the domesticated mind can make sense of anyway
you're never not close
and im never not close
in the realms of the murk and the mystery
our backs are back to back
we can still support each other and feel fear
and anxiety and panic
its all part of it
but we know we are never alone

UWC 62

Joshua Bond
Tyrant of Words
37awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 2nd Feb 2017
Forum Posts: 1013



In the distance at the back of my mind
a line appeared, strangely self-defined
as an “enemy line”; I re-combined
off-beat words — lobbied a few bombs — smiled … all fine

Then my mind decided to attack …
fired the alphabet at random — taken aback
I faltered and tottered … regrouping, I stacked
a pile of Latin quotes and charged … Smack!

in the gob
— and for a minute or two
there was silence — beautiful — but the view
that someone must ‘win’ and both can’t be true
was deeply embedded in all of the crew

yet suddenly, unexpectedly, they said this mission
is over, co-operation is more efficient.

Twisted Dreamer
United States
1awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 21st May 2020
Forum Posts: 49


..talking shit..

its so very tiresome
to hear the extremist left brains of the world
intellectually battling out abstract concepts
or striving for the solution junky trophy
with their square words
their suit and tie sentences
the hard on for that educated tone
filled to the brim with unbending beliefs
blah blah blah'ing into the black hole of knowing
a wondering...
is there room for words to be woven with soft petals and soft hues of mauve in IRS  notices?
may we be delivered auto insurance statements with a vivid description of what a sun kissed jasmine bush smells like on a dewey spring morning?
is there a way to feel the way the world smiled back at you when you first opened your eyes this morning when discussing credit limits?
-a teeny plea from me for a more poetic world
73 UWC

Fire of Insight
United States
11awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 12th July 2017
Forum Posts: 183

My apologies for being late for the 28th, work shifts got changed and it proved to be a busy and stressful evening.



Is a letter
Landfill, at the back
Of my closet, a collection
Of various fonts, colors, designs
I’ve lost track of most, buried and crumbled
Those poor notes.. declaring love, lies
Blatant and empty, what a waste of paper
Quite frankly, it’s all trash now, just festering itself in a cobwebbed corner of my desolate nook
I’ve already decided they won’t be reread.. come to think of it, most are unopened. Perhaps there are promises sealed up somewhere
But for the moment, my closet grows with more stacks of recyclable material. When one falls from the top, I’ll begin my declutter.

Tyrant of Words
United States
22awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 20th Mar 2015
Forum Posts: 5570


"Here it is!" cried Smuggle and Duggle in unison, pointing at the open doorway leading into the volcanic mountain that was Mount Dumb. "No time to waste!"

The Dark Knight was exhausted from carrying the Wyrms.

The One Poem ™ to rule them all

"Are we there yet?" DUGlo asked from within the haze that swirled around in his mind. Or was it sulphuric ash and smoke from the molten fires roiling about in the heart of the mountain? He couldn't say for certain. That foreign voice answered him with,

The One Poem ™ to find them

and tempted DUGlo to give into its power - forsake all other forms of verse. How easy it would be to spend the rest of his life writing ABAB rhymes, never having to challenge himself to do more . . . put in some repeated choruses, become the latest Country Music sensation, sing about having an achy, breaky heart . . .

The One Poem ™ to bring them all

. . . resurrect the heyday of Nashville when records were churned out factory style like kitchen utensils and office widgets . . . and he wouldn't have to listen to any more of his trainer's minimalistic musings . . . Gamjeez instead could become his manager, his very own Colonel Parker . . . DUGlo could ride around in limosines with an entourage, a sort of Fellowship of the DUGster, eating fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches . . .

And in the darkness---

"MISTER DUGLO!" Satin was practically shouting to get his attention."We made it!"

The Glowyrm looked down from the Dark Knight's shoulders into a terrible chasm of bubbling magma. The heat rising up into his face was tremendous. His body felt extremely parched, as if an onion ring left in a deep fryer for too long.

"Are we having funyuns yet?" asked MOAR!ON, reading DUGlo's mind. He entered the archway and towered above them. Despite being the next best thing to a demonic wyrm, as well as a raging dork, he had his moments of comedic genius. "Hand over The One Poem ™ and I promise to make you my Chief Librarian. You can play with all the pretty poetry books that I won't be having incinerated. Mwuahahaha!"

"That does sound a bit tempting," said DUGlo as he tried to shake the cobwebs out of his head.

"You don't mean that!" cried Satin with tears in his eyes. "You have to fight this spell you've fallen under, Mister DUGlo! He means to make us all be slaves to the Poem's evilness!"

The Dark Knight ripped The One Poem ™ free from DUGlo's neck and dropped his companions to the cavern floor. "Sorry, kids, but this Daddio can't go on living knowing the love of his life is an immortally freakish, giant eyeball," he said. "I'm going to destroy the darn verse if it's the last thing I do!"

He turned towards the chasm, ready to toss the Poem to its destruction, when Smuggle and Duggle leapt onto him as if a wrestling tag team. They poked their Froggy fingers through the eyeholes of his mask and yanked hard on his leather bat ears. "Give us our Precious back, you filthy flying rodent!" they howled.

MOAR!ON, fed up with the entire bunch, stepped forward to smite them with Grubgrinder! And that's when the ledge beneath everyone's feet broke free, sending them ALL surfing on a large piece of rock towards annihilation!

When The One Poem ™ slipped out of everyone's grabby, grubby hands, and fell into the magma. It caught fire. Mount Dumb erupted in protest, launching the rock they stood upon as if a missile thousands of feet into the air! They were high in the clouds above Muddle Earth with no where to go but DOWN.

The Dark Knight spread his arms to no avail, as the flames from the volcano had burned holes through his cape.

That was it. They had succeeded in saving not only NaPoWriMo, but all of Muddle Earth.

And now they were going to be bugsplat on someone's car windshield.

Fire of Insight
United Kingdom
17awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 15th Sep 2019
Forum Posts: 366


Falling off the shoulders of giants

You can find Jack
in some late bar
off the main drag
that smells of pizza,
TV turned up too loud,
beers stains on his belly.

He shouts at strangers
tells them his problems
tries to sell his magic beans,
they nod because they know
what he means.

He pawned the golden eggs
left by his mother,
for drinking money
and rolled up cigarettes'
sleeps under the damp
leaves of an abandoned

Afraid of being eaten
by unfamiliar spaces
he only speaks to giants
mostly in rhyme and always
without reason.

One day soon Jack
won't come back from the market,
the Vicar will plant him in his garden
and say a few kind verses
in an unkept corner 
then forget the words he said.

Only an old lady carrying sticks
will see the green shoots
rising through the fresh dug earth,
followed by Jack
as he climbs above the clouds
one last time.

Dangerous Mind
United States
10awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 11th Aug 2016
Forum Posts: 167



It's said that no one enters accept via the Son
But what about the ones who die via the gun
The ones whose Suns were prematurely set
A limited time to shine is what they all get

Will GOD forgive and forget their iniquities?
Especially if they spent time on their knees
Begging Lord please save me from my pain
Was his answer to allow them to be slain?

Can you explain why suicide is a ride straight to Hell?
If he's omnipotent, wouldn't he be able to tell?
Wouldn't it be revealed that they feel lost and hopeless?
Does he administer duress as a form of stress test?

When our best just isn't enough to persevere
Will he grab the wheel when asked to steer?
What was once clear has now become opaque
Guess we have to be good for goodness sake

Tyrant of Words
20awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 4th Dec 2018
Forum Posts: 1527

#29 of 30

No Ripples

no affect on reality
whatever ripple effect there is
designed not to register
undetected utterences
just delivers silence

repeating tragedy disturbs nothing
everything stands still
wheels turn slowly for me
memories are fading echoes
that seems so diatant

rescue never quite happens
haunting ghosts laughing
it's phantom living
an existence between storms
battered soul bleeding away

Unique word count 56
Total word count 56

Tyrant of Words
United States
109awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 11th Apr 2015
Forum Posts: 11288

Greetings, Great Poets of the Fellowship! T-MINUS TWO ( ONE IF YOU'VE ALREADY POSTED TODAY ) DAYS TO GO!  Wow! What a NaPo! If you see bug splat on your window, wipe it off and proceed into DAY 29!

You've all done a bloody bang-up job this year! Congratulations on your perseverance and dedication to this challenge! Particularly the first-year entrants!

Tyrant of Words
United States
109awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 11th Apr 2015
Forum Posts: 11288

( 29/30 )


[ . . . ]

Part III: Systems of Nomenclature

[ . . . ]  


December—Cold Moon
( Mohawk Nation, Eastern Woodlands )

Fire, shooting sparks
through black of night
as spirits, ascending;
by day, burning
with family warmth
because community reminds us
we are not alone
at another year's close

Cold Moon of winter's eve
coming full circle
within the womb of long
dark nights where spring
awaits birth

Solstice, a moment befalling
a symbolic death and rebirth
of an old sun; ritual
offerings of reverence
festivals of worship
and dance permeate
the rising of light

Christmas, Yuletide feast
of food and gifts, oranges
and nuts deep in stockinged sleep;
pine scented rooms
candlelit with single flames
mimic the great outdoors

We embrace opportunity
to love and be loved—
to give from the heart
remembering the lonely
and those who have passed

Somewhere a ball drops
signaling the end
of another year;
and somewhere in the sky
the Moon, waning quietly
into herself,  oversees
a new one, sans any pomp
and circumstance
. . .

Go to page:
Go to: