Poetry competition CLOSED 7th August 2021 10:38pm
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On the pains, travails, and joys of writing poetry

poet Anonymous

Poetry Contest

Poems only of course .
Poetry entries only.   Give me rhymes. Or none. Go for Shakespeare. Or  John Donne.  Or Edmund Spencer.  Or  '' none of the above''.  Go for 3 lines.  Or 30 lines.  Or 300.....whatever turns you on.  Give me Blood Sweat and Tears (love that group).........

poet Anonymous

sometimes I don’t want to write

you don’t
want to
some days

but here
you are
with full

and no

poet Anonymous

Say it back

poet Anonymous

Poe' tically Speaking

Scurry around grasping at straws
The poet seeks to show you more
More of herself revealing her core
Just a peek, just a peek,
Beyond that closed door

A wounded heart a long lost love
Yet words fail they aren't enough
They fail to understand her stuff
Lost to them, lost to them
Metaphorically to rough

Her meter is off, clumsy they say
Grammartical errors rule her day
Spelling mistakes get in the way
Great attempt, great attempt
The poem is Ok

Seeing her poem through their eyes
For readers will always criticise
I'll try again, one has many tries
To improve, to improve
This poet will rise
poet Anonymous

Dearest five..

Won't disguise you!..
Won't disgust you!..  

What I always asked of my five friends..
My "soul" in peace go to sleep free..    
My "mind" could you go evil free?..  
My "heart" please go delivery..  
Don't possess my "body"    
Devil let go of My buddies!..  
My "shadow" walk free with me..  
You my dearest ever pals I need to be..  
poet Anonymous

Blank Page Nympho

We all stare,         
don't we?          
A gal like her         
must be          
every poet's dream          
Sweet symphony of moans          
in pristine white         
Fresh young limbs         
spread out wide          
just busting you up         
with those         
come to bed eyes          
The all brand new        
cutey-pie bride          
gagging for you         
to pop her cherry          
any way you want it          
almost every day         
our good Lord gave          
And this morning       
starts out slow          
She loves to tease          
with a flutter of corny lines          
smiling and flirting          
the legs crossed cliche          
waiting for your keyboard     
to glow       
Sweet nothings      
cranked hard and hot     
until inspiration struts up     
hornier than a toad          
You cling to the word flow          
fierce and wild          
biting sighs     
while she caresses     
the delicate texture    
of your soul          
begging for the rush          
of consonants and vowels          
craving syntax completion          
to fill her          
and make her whole          
she'll linger       
between the lines--          
if you're lucky       
you might come up for air          
So while she licks her lips          
you sip your tea          
watching her cursor          
pant silently for more          
trying your darndest          
to look elsewhere        
You call her names          
tell her it's over          
that you can't go on          
Yelling poetry's a whore          
you scream her kind  
was only ever good for    
shredding the hearts of fools          
left dirty  
and broken in the gutter          
their hopes bled emptier          
than marrow sucked bones          
But you know inside        
she'll always be yours          
Exquisite forever        
her lure remains          
a goddess at your trembling hand          
the ache of her passion        
perfectly timed         
as she reels in those words       
and creation
drowns you     
once more
poet Anonymous


I service a deity with two faces
Faithful penitent, holy harlot
mind supine to their whims
Words and Music the Janus
I attempt to appease

Bound to verse and loop
submissive to rhythm and rhyme
deprived of sleep and sanity
in their most sacred service
until such time as they are content

So jealous, this individual deity
insistent, persistent until I yield
I spend my days and nights
seeing chords and hearing words
seduced into divine intoxication
poet Anonymous

My Devotion To Poetry

From the day that I first met you, I knew you were the one
On my darkest nights and gloomiest days, you're my shining Sun
The one that I can run to when I need a listening ear
When others have forsaken me, you've always stayed near

You'll be near and dear to my heart 'til life departs from me
I'm head over hills in love with you and I call you Poetry
I foresee greater ecstasy on the horizon up ahead
Every morning I awake to you lying next to me in bed

Thoughts of you course through my head each and every day
Helping me continue through life's phases of dismay
I use you to convey the things weighing heavy on my mind
I'll give anything to keep you cause you're a gem that's hard to find

I grind but I still find time to allocate to our progression
My faithfulness to you, lessens erections of depression
This is my confession; a declarative devotion to our union
That'll withstand the hands of time like the Constitution
poet Anonymous

Competition Poem: "Tangled Strings"

Puppeteer of my darkest convictions,
Tangled are your vexatious strings.
I move now without your restrictions.

No longer controlled by the wires.
Cut off from your delinquent mind,
Free from the unhealthy desires.

But I can feel the needle with new threads,
I know you want to reattach the bond.
I have to stop you before it spreads.

Like a true puppet master, thorough and neat,
You attach every yearning back to my vest.
The puppet show will soon repeat.
poet Anonymous

When the Silent Crow has Flown

I dance with him, a stranger still—
A figment of my mind
The song a hymn of meager skill—
Composed of words in rhyme

He takes the lead yet I resist—
I know this dance by heart
The words he needs cannot exist
While ink and parchment part

We dance a while
And rest a while
I struggle—What to Say?
The cat has come
And got my tongue
Perhaps another day

The dance goes on and he grows strong—
 My ardor gives him strength
Each liaison gives girth and brawn—
His wit, more class and depth

When the silent crow has flown
Then I’m no longer lonesome
Because my lad has finally grown—
And he's such a handsome poem!

poet Anonymous



The frog....

Her heavenly curves

In an eerie fog.

Complex trigeminal nerves...

(heavy sigh)
Darn, where was I?

poet Anonymous

Self Critique

It started with cutting just a few words,
not too much mostly cliche
but it made things worse
so I started in line by line
that seemed to work fine
apart from the habit of forcing my rhymes.

My titles never seem to work
and I think it should end
before the last verse
as most of the good stuff
is the bit that comes first.

They'll say he just stopped writing
but there's no poetry in that?
and although the petrol smell
is frightening and the tiptoed
noose is tightening.
It just comes down to the ending
and a slow mo match descending.
poet Anonymous

What is the point

What's the point: what is the point of having a lover or a spouse and you don't show any love. Walking around each other with no good morning hugs. What is the point saying I love you to a person with no show, these days you have to put action behind your words. What is the point of lying instead of telling the truth these days people rather hear a lie to spare someone's feelings than set a person free with the truth? What is the point of cheating on your spouse if you say you love that person; leave so they can deal with the hurt alone, but they have to know their self-worth. Peace of mind is so beautiful you don't need anybody that is going to continue on hurting you, but these days certain people rather stay in messed up relationships than be happy. What is the point of drinking or doing drugs, may the Lord help y'all with the addiction we all need love and support at every point of our lives. What's the point of having a number in your phone and you not going to use it to just check on a person or to say what is up you don't know what a person going through. What is the point of having siblings and you don't see them or want to be around them? life too short to be acting like that family should stick together, these days your family can be your worse enemy. What is the point of being in a relationship and both of you forgetting the main part is the conversation. What is the point of having a friend and that person doesn't have your back?
poet Anonymous

Related submission no longer exists.
poet Anonymous


“Poetry cannot breathe in the scholar’s atmosphere.”
              Henry David Thoreau      
The universe a beating heart      
is throbbing in the poet’s blood      
which is the ink of every poem      
the merging of above below  
Analytics cannot reach    
the realm of science cannot teach      
how the poet unribbons the stars    
how the cosmos quickens her soul    
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