Poetry competition CLOSED 7th August 2021 10:38pm
WINNER
Abracadabra
View Profile Poems by Abracadabra
rosette
RUNNER-UP: ReggiePoet

Go to page:

On the pains, travails, and joys of writing poetry

Abracadabra
Tyrant of Words
Kiribati 21awards
Joined 13th Nov 2009
Forum Posts: 2528

Blind Date with a Poem

        
The bitch on the tip of my tongue            
came out all wrong            
She wasn't sexy at all            
even when I dressed up her words            
with a flashy new font            
stripped them to the bone            
and edited their ass off            
still she sat            
poetic legs firmly crossed            
frowning on the page            
duller than a blind date nightmare            
with the Vogons            
           
She seemed as frumpy            
as old Granny Gluebones  
in a brown tweed suit            
peering through horn-rimmed glasses            
the ingredients of her poetic juice          
all dried up and confined to dust            
under rusty whalebone corsets          
a surefire recipe for writer's block            
           
So I tried my best            
to tickle her verbs            
I sprinkled her adjectives with spice    
jiggled her stanzas            
and teased her internals with rhyme           
but she never even winked            
           
Her verses were playing hard to get            
I would need more than a literary dildo--            
even Shakespeare might struggle          
to find a finger of inspiration here            
but my poet's pride demanded a result            
after all            
I was paying for her lines            
with my time            
           
Then at last            
on the cab ride home            
the miracle happened            
We were thrown together            
by a bump in the road            
and suddenly            
gracing the city lights            
her scent seemed headier      
than a classic rose            
           
In the twitch of a heartbeat            
she'd let her hair down            
taken off her glasses            
and unbuttoned the top of her blouse              
           
Her legs were no longer crossed            
           
Oh, she said:            
Is this what you want?            
           
Now, am I your kind of poem?
Written by Abracadabra
Go To Page  

AUGSTBURNSRED
Strange Creature
Joined 27th July 2021
Forum Posts: 1

Lost Arts

Too many masterpieces
vanished
off the face
of the internet

Where there is joy
there is loss
where there is pain
there is sorrow

To create art is to interpret it
to be isolated and unfounded
misdirected or misfired
countless lives lost in wars

So many found in poetry
in expressions on the internet
How everything has to change
forget I even mentioned it.

ManuelPessanha
Manuel Pessanha
Strange Creature
Joined 21st July 2021
Forum Posts: 2

Poets, believe me, they are beyond great!

Believe me,  
   I have met more poets than humans.
Believe me,  
     I find them apart and not among us.
Believe me,  
     I know they aren’t easy to behave towards.
Believe me,  
     I read unique feelings just by feeling their words!
 
They are  
     writing as they’re in heaven, not on Earth…
They are  
     absorbed on the beauties felt by humans, nonetheless  
They are  
     abstracted from human disabilities, despite that, damn,
They are  
     suffering their miseries because of the passion they feel for them!
 
Beyond  
     understanding beauty, poets link human senses with life discernment.
Beyond  
     making sense, to all kind of circumstances, poets provide substance.
Beyond  
     inspiring realization, for uncertain ways, poets' vision the path clears.
Beyond  
     giving hope in the deepest despair, poets wipe away the tears!
 
Great  
     enlightening they have been providing through History.
Great  
     belvederes for landscapes revealing novel life posture.
Great  
     remedies for alleviating the misfortunes of love, gently.
Great  
     demand humanity is still requesting, in need, for poetry!
 
Poets,  
     almost nothing in the whole humankind,  
     almost everything for each human being!
Written by ManuelPessanha (Manuel Pessanha)
Go To Page  

robert43041
Viking
Tyrant of Words
Canada 43awards
Joined 30th July 2020
Forum Posts: 918

...''they give hop in the deepest despair''......... I like this poem a lot.  Regards, Robert.

Abracadabra
Tyrant of Words
Kiribati 21awards
Joined 13th Nov 2009
Forum Posts: 2528

Drowning in a Bucket of Words

I may never escape my fate.  
I have fallen  
and must drown,    
a shadow in a bucket of words--    
but I have always known this    
and so my sadness grows cosy    
until even the roses seem happy    
to remind me of life's thorns.    
   
Every day they float to the top,    
ragged pearls pretending wisdom    
words bursting around me    
bobbing free to tickle my chin    
nuzzling the tips of ears.    
   
To stay alive,  
I must help them escape    
although that act itself defeats my own purpose.    
Somehow I claw them into air,  
polish a deluge of memories    
before I choke and my head slips    
down...    
   
New phrases conspire as I sleep    
whispering to me in secret    
with tempting combinations    
to overpower and tire,    
each one eager to feast    
ready to gorge on time's blood    
their victory ever certain    
a pack of cocksure dogs gleefully chasing a cat    
and n'ere a tree in sight.    
   
In my waking hours they refuse to stop    
so I must kick to stay afloat    
toes curled tightly,  
I hug my knees and scream...    
   
Once,    
when I was foolish enough to dream of my own escape    
when I still had strength to be bold,    
I summoned a giant's breath    
diving down for the bottom of the bucket    
until my lungs burned to explode.    
   
But there was    
no bottom to reach    
only letters    
mocking me in silence    
streaming slowly from tiny bubbles    
forming themselves    
into words.    
   
Perhaps one day    
you may stumble upon my death    
find my bloated belly    
grinning at the sky where it rests    
the price of freedom    
at last awash with words
Written by Abracadabra
Go To Page  

PoeticInjustice
Lost Thinker
United States
Joined 21st Nov 2017
Forum Posts: 9

The Thought Collector

I am the thought collector.  
With a synaptic net,  
I catch these fleeting reminders  
Of my consciousness.  
Like a child in a field,  
Chasing down butterflies.  
Attempting to catch all the colors.  
Putting them in jars and  
Storing them on the shelves of my mind.  
Dusting off the fragile glass vessels  
That have become memories.  
Occasionally admiring my collection  
As it grows.  
My my, how full  
These shelves have become.  
Some strain under the weight of  
The vast array of all the species  
I have contained.  
Then it happens.  
The shelf bows and the jars slide.  
They come crashing down.  
Each shattering and releasing an
 Individual swarm.  
Like thick indigo waves  
Spiraling behind my eyes.  
Surrounding me.  
Forcing me to watch  
As they irratically dance  
Throughout my poor, frantic brain.  
The calm has become the storm.  
Then, through the madness,  
Comes the messenger.  
The one thought  
That can never be contained.  
Piercing the swarm,  
It delivers it's message.  
"Remember,  
You are the thought collector."  
And with that,  
I pick up my synaptic net,  
Become the child in the field  
And like so many times before.  
 I begin collecting.  
 
5/11/2018
Written by PoeticInjustice
Go To Page  

robert43041
Viking
Tyrant of Words
Canada 43awards
Joined 30th July 2020
Forum Posts: 918

Sooooooooo powerful. Superbly written.  Amazing the number ofTop Notch poems submitted in this competition.  It will be extremely difficult to award a trophy as so many deserve one.    Regards, Robert.

robert43041
Viking
Tyrant of Words
Canada 43awards
Joined 30th July 2020
Forum Posts: 918

Very lovely.

robert43041
Viking
Tyrant of Words
Canada 43awards
Joined 30th July 2020
Forum Posts: 918

Ya.  Must be open to criticism, that's for sure.   Regards, Robert.

robert43041
Viking
Tyrant of Words
Canada 43awards
Joined 30th July 2020
Forum Posts: 918

Nothing there to rhyme. Thus time needed to recuperate. Thanks for the submission, Robert.

Abracadabra
Tyrant of Words
Kiribati 21awards
Joined 13th Nov 2009
Forum Posts: 2528

Message to Poetry

 
To all the poems
I don't recall I wrote
to all the unfinished
mongrel scraps
left starving in the orphanage I made
To all the drunken solitary lines
blurted out to no-one
and never met a page
To the devils of inspiration
the stillborn squibs
with their cracked false dawns
sparking truths that never spat a flame
And to all the critical direction
the signposts leading nowhere
until the lights went down
to every bitter sweet burden
of rejection and acclaim

I want you to know
if I had time over
I would write you
all again






 
Written by Abracadabra
Go To Page  

robert43041
Viking
Tyrant of Words
Canada 43awards
Joined 30th July 2020
Forum Posts: 918

Nice and very hot indeed.

slipalong
Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom 41awards
Joined 1st Jan 2018
Forum Posts: 820

More than a muse

Is writing like your favourite pet?    
keep it warm in each typeset  
let it be the font that you select    
    
A luxury, the indulgent need    
the window's of a soul exposed    
the oak grows tall, from the acorns seed    
   
Loves carvings on the bark    
the knife that cut outlines of heart    
flint arrows, each line composed    
   
The line that's drawn, on the  archers  bow      
is it, the life coach, that helps you grow.    
Sinew, stretched taught in each elbow    
   
Vanities catgut tight, across the bridge    
resonance within the wood    
heard tune, in appreciation or misunderstood    
   
For the star's they whisper sweet    
a played refrain, in a myriad of key's    
the stillborn baby cries!    
   
Excitement is the act of exorcise,    
gestation,    
for the gaze.    
How cute that child,    
in each parent's eyes    
   
Is there time for prayers and grace?    
laurel's they will not suffice    
a starting pistol, the inner self, its own dictates,    
as clean white page awaits    
  
Written by slipalong
Go To Page  

robert43041
Viking
Tyrant of Words
Canada 43awards
Joined 30th July 2020
Forum Posts: 918

''....the life coach that helps you grow".   Very nicely put.     Regards, Robert.    Good luck in the competition.

poet Anonymous

<< post removed >>
Go to page:
Go to: