Competition Ends 22nd September 2021 3:13pm
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Poem of the Month - SEPTEMBER 2021

LunaGreyhawk
LunaGreyhawk
Fire of Insight
United States
12awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 8th July 2019
Forum Posts: 510

Poetry Contest

Three weeks to nominate your favorite poems!
You have THREE weeks to nominate no more than THREE of your favorite poems from another DUP poet!

Please note the following guidelines when making nominations:
The voting for this competition is anonymous; therefore,spoken word nominations will be disqualified. You may nominate Spoken Word pieces in the competition below.

Spoken Word of the Month Comp is here:

(Link coming soon!)

New Member ( six ( 6 ) months of less ) of the Month comp is here:

https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/competitions/read/12017/

1. Self nominations are not accepted. The great majority of the competitions here are about spotlighting one's own work on a particular topic or theme.  This is a chance to nominate that poem that you wish you had written but some other great talent here beat you to it.

2. You may nominate only THREE poems from THREE different DU members.

3. No DUPLICATE NOMINATIONS. If you nominate a poem that has already been nominated you will be asked to replace the nomination.

4. Any genre except erotica or pornography. This is a Facebook feature and we must adhere to their guidelines.  

5. Any member who is banned or disables their account PRIOR to winning will be automatically disqualified.

6. One win per member per calendar year, beginning with the month they win.

7. Please notify your nominee they have been nominated.

Nomination Duration is three weeks followed by a week of site voting!

Current Poem of the Month Hall of Famers:

2021:
January - brokentitanium (k.)
February - SatinUgal
March - X
April - RiAN
May - DaisyGrace
June - Bluevelvete
July - Jemac
August - pending

2020
January-  NEW BEGINNINGS
February - EDIBLE WORDS
March - MADAME LAVENDER
APRIL - MONKEYMAN
MAY - TIMAGINATION543
JUNE - LEPPEROCHAN (Craic-Dealer)
JULY - STRANGEWAYS_ROB  
August - Daniel Christensen
September - Aspergerpoet
October - Lunagreyhawk
November - Kristinax
December - Ahavati

2019
January - DANIELCHRISTENSEN
February - SOPHIE_ERICSON
March - AUDIOHARLEEA
April - FROM THE ASH
May - MISS_SUB
June - NAAJIR
July - LAYLA
August, 2019 - AHAVATI
September - MISS_SUB
October - HOWLING_WHELMS
November - JOHNNY BLAZE
December - RACHEL_LAUREN

2018
January - LADY_OF_THE_QUILL
February - LEPPEROCHAN Craic in a Box
March - TINABUBUYA (Tee Mali)
April - CROWFLY
May - ATOMIKBOMB
June - MISS_SUB (Missy)
July - MEADOWSWEET
August - LAYLA
September - COLD FUSION
October  - TODSKI28
November - TheMUSE22
December - BENDER

2017
January - VEE
February - CRIMSIN
March  - ONEFIFTYSIX
April - DANIEL CHRISTENSEN
May - ALEXANDER CASE
June - AEMelia564
July - THE_SILLY_SIBYL (Jack Thomas Heslop)
August - QUIETUSQUILL
September - _SHADOE_
October - POETSREVENGE
November - NAAJIR
December - POETSPEAK

2016
November  - JOHN FEDDELER
December - AHAVATI

poet Anonymous

HEY! where did you come from?

   
   
   
while drinking coffee, or    
reading a book,    
I feel his hand resting    
upon my  
shoulder.    
   
I look back and no one is    
there.    
   
when walking down the    
street,    
I see his shadow    
following me.    
   
I turn around, but nobody    
is present.    
   
I taste him in bites of my    
food and sips of wine.    
   
I sense him in the words    
I write,    
and see him in the eyes    
of others.    
   
in bed at night,    
I think about how I  
would chase    
the tigers of passion,    
   
all those beautifully
imperfect women
and men who  
welcomed me to
enter the sacred
temple's of their    
bodies, hearts
and souls,    
   
and afterwards,    
lying together,    
the twilight falling    
around us like manna,    
   
soft, gentle giggling at    
little secrets shared    
between small kisses    
of afterplay,    
   
whispering silly pet    
names like song birds    
singing from tree to    
tree.    
   
now I lie here,    
feeling the weight of    
his arm dangling over    
my back in some    
spectral hug,    
   
I roll over,    
but no one is    
there...    
   
not yet,    
anyway,    
   
but soon    
enough,    
   
soon    
enough.    
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
Written by buddhakitty
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cold_fusion
cold_fusion
Tyrant of Words
19awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 14th June 2017
Forum Posts: 3626

flowers in broken vases

Drunk from
Drinking the ink of your poetry,
The wingspan of my breath
Feather edges of the rising sky.
 
On edge of my waking dreams
I become a tree in Blue Mountains,
Through malevolent winters
My leaves are pressed into your mind-library.
 
Chiselled by the wind and collapsing rain
An owl beats in me like a thunderous heart,
My roots are in the five fields
Five oceans and seven continents.
Climb into my branches & consider only this:
I am on the horizon when you look back.
 
Sometimes, when
Rain arrows pierce haunted memory
It feels like time has forgotten me.
Sometimes,
I get mistaken for myself.
 
The assurance of the kettle boiling,
Radio voices within the wall
Dregs of wine in the cheapest glass
Tiny leaded windows of an insect’s wing.
Unto this,
Necks of the blue remembered hills
Fall asleep on my lap.
 
Carrying home within me
Free to roam no further  
Than second hand furniture,
Stained carpets and luggage
Packed with despair.
 
If the wheel had never been invented,
We would all become the crutches &
Love would be our feet.
Written by Strangeways_Rob
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Ahavati
Ahavati
Tyrant of Words
United States
109awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 11th Apr 2015
Forum Posts: 11129

little things found in secondhand books

a photograph of a young Jack Russell
with a scruffy black head
and white body,
looking like a plucked chicken.

a birthday message,
handwritten, dated two weeks
before it reached my hands.
(the recipient must not have liked
Southern Gothic short stories.)

a postcard of a Van Gogh scene
(“Wheatfield, with Cypresses”).
that one i keep on my nightstand,
backlit by my reading lamp.

i think about the hands
that placed these little gifts
between the pages of the books.
a woman’s hands,
wrinkled, writing on
the first blank page.
a male hand marking the spot,
with the picture of the dog.
Written by The_Silly_Sibyl (Jack Thomas)
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cold_fusion
cold_fusion
Tyrant of Words
19awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 14th June 2017
Forum Posts: 3626

Wings of Shame

 
Even the butterflies  
seem terrified  
As a boy  
they would settle on my head  
a kindred flower to bask on
Much rarer now
they shun us all
with wary wings
while our Mother screams
Look!
See what you’ve done
And In silent lines
the birds stray North
flying hard
to escape the sun
Written by Abracadabra
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Calamityofgin
Calamityofgin
Fire of Insight
United States
5awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 10th May 2020
Forum Posts: 147

love and only love

 Smeared upon these walls are all the vowels
all the vows that have been broken
 
he drank his silence
coaled savage breath
gallops ghostly where she holds
his gaze, they are completed
 
As he draws near his hand capsized
Now she is solemnly sinking
ablaze ablaze when he quotes
mirrors
 
upon her face
a faint reflection is shown where two
shaded figures begin to emerge
his fingers are arrows soaring
milky ways yearning
 
only love
it was
only love
 
that pressed me
Against the execution wall
He wants her to bleed
dead flowers miming microscopic air
 
Today I am not  
a dissolving meaning
within mine self
only love
it was only love
 
oh loneliness
no greater mortal wealth
abide the stars
 
the genes of life
a preserved art
 
https://youtu.be/IskfkQkKcEA
Written by RiAN
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badmalthus
badmalthus
Harry Rout
Dangerous Mind
19awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 3rd May 2014
Forum Posts: 383

A Drunkard’s Song

“Do not commit your poems to pages alone, sing them I pray you.”  (Virgil)  
                      
   
Pour forth O’ fragrant grape    
rush my veins    
intoxicate    
the frenzied bard awaits    
her tempest to emancipate    
spilling lyric to your cup    
I offer you this opiate    
soul to soul communicate    
rhythm rhyme and pregnant space    
   
Taste this wine upon your tongue    
this drunkard’s poem is to be sung  

Written by Keilani
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AspergerPoet56
AspergerPoet56
Dangerous Mind
Scotland
20awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 4th Dec 2018
Forum Posts: 1463

Related submission no longer exists.

Wafflenose
Wafflenose
Ellie
Thought Provoker
United Kingdom
5awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 1st Aug 2021
Forum Posts: 240

A Day in the Park

the old widow Nature and I
sat on a park bench  
along South Fayetteville Square,  
this early September morning  

She’d come to oversee  
the arrival of Queen Autumn  
 
I held her strong, leathery hand  
in mine; breathed my hopes and hurts  
into her patient, listening ear ~  
whenever I thought to pause  
and fill my lungs,  
her essence danced upon the air  
  
(magnolias join the reverie;  
I am transfixed in this moment ~  
where the late summer sun  
dapples its way through the trees  
splashing my face  
in sparkling droplets of warmth)  
 
inhaling her scent ~  
the perfume of passing seasons,  
layered beautifully  
just under the last batches of  
towels dried on the line,  
and open windows forgotten  
overnight; cool dewdrops gathered  
along wooden edges at sunrise  
 
I ask sincerely for her wisdom,  
to lend to me, please  
the lines from her eyes, richly  
carved by a life that was  
truly felt  
 
winking, she obliges  
 
we pass the afternoon away ~  
a comfortable silence  
periodically interrupted  
by offerings of my honesty,  
and taking her counsel to heart  
 
I leave her there in the park  
after kissing her weathered cheek,  
the waning day casting shadows  
under her eyes;  
she insisted she remain  
should anyone else need her  
 
Written by LunaGreyhawk
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cold_fusion
cold_fusion
Tyrant of Words
19awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 14th June 2017
Forum Posts: 3626

Picnic in the park

 

carrying stones of loneliness
in her cheap Salvo handbag
she stumbles
and
staggers from
park bench
to
park bench
searching for meaning

...for a future
...for something remotely
related to love
and friendship

while by the small pond
she sees Jesus treading
water
while holy humans
throw tired prayers
of wanting
and
longing
into his drowning arms

from her handbag
she unpacks her life
and
spreads
it on the grass
for all to bear witness
before swallowing
the world's misery
and
dying all alone
by the daffodils


Written by badmalthus (Harry Rout)
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badmalthus
badmalthus
Harry Rout
Dangerous Mind
19awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 3rd May 2014
Forum Posts: 383

The futility.

But a breath.
Toiling under the sun.
Chasing wind.
Such futility.
Believing in this madness.

Just distraction.
Momentarily bliss.
Enjoying fruits.
Meaningless acts.
The sun sets on everything.

People sit at tables.
With their perceived wisdom.
Self importance at the ready.
Such fools to think.
Again they die under the sun.

Striving to reach the next level.
Just folly.
As surely as birth to death they go.
Over the same ground.
There is nothing new.

Another season.
Yet more years.
Time outpaces all.
Reasons fade.
The sun will eventually fall.

But a breath.
Soon to be forgotten.
Returning to dust.
Destroyed by moth and rust.
Meaningless meaningless meaningless.

Spirit is all that remains.
Written by Joshsam
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Ahavati
Ahavati
Tyrant of Words
United States
109awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 11th Apr 2015
Forum Posts: 11129

Muted

As I endure alone, I think.
Shadows flow around me, taunting.
Frightened words do not formulate.
I am left drowning in the ink.

Bold thoughts gather but quickly shrink.
The effort put forth is daunting.
Words pile up, becoming dead weight.
I am left drowning in the ink.

Hoping to see, I do not blink.
I gaze, and it leaves me wanting.
Why does my expression negate?
I am left drowning in the ink.

Steadily I silently sink.
Formless expression is haunting,
and the words become serrated.
I am left drowning in the ink.
Written by Ljdynamic
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Ljdynamic
Ljdynamic
Fire of Insight
United States
8awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 18th Aug 2017
Forum Posts: 120

Return

I know you ache for freedom
for the blue that's in your eye,
was given a present
from the fabric of the sky
And, when you're gazing up skywards
It's no wonder that you yearn,
When part of what you're made of
always wishes to return.
Written by Penguinphile
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badmalthus
badmalthus
Harry Rout
Dangerous Mind
19awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 3rd May 2014
Forum Posts: 383

all the centuries in one night

     
     
lying beside      
you      
     
watching you      
sleep in the      
quiet morning      
tide      
     
thinking of last      
night:      
     
your      
feel,      
     
your      
taste,      
     
your      
sound,      
     
your    
motion.    
     
how you gave      
yourself      
freely,      
     
how you gave      
in to yourself      
freely,      
     
the wine of your      
hair spilling      
over our      
faces.      
     
and all the centuries      
that came      
before,      
     
and all the centuries      
yet to come found      
their way to      
this one      
night.      
     
all the defeats      
wiped clean      
from the      
slate,      
     
all the victories      
became inert      
in this one      
night.      
     
and any words I      
write, nothing      
more than      
obvious 
hollow     
cliches.      
     
all I'm left    
with is:     
     
thank you,      
          Danielle.      
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
 
Written by buddhakitty
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Fallen_Angel_194
Fallen_Angel_194
Angel.
Thought Provoker
United States
5awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 24th May 2014
Forum Posts: 317

little savage

 
 
deep down those wells for eyes  
i believe greatness often skips  
a generation in a bloodline,
 
it's those eyes  
that cry thunder and lightning
hoping to strive for something better
than my ancestors ever dreamed of,
 
the same eyes  
that stare into my portrait
having the cheek to inform me  
about getting old & hairy  
as i wish happy birthdays in kisses
how savage she is;
in all her curiosity for a strange wilderness
befriending humans & beasts  
her eyes come across,
a mischievous giggle waiting to erupt  
in a vast world
waiting to be shaken by her footprints  
wherever she decides to take  
her own steps,
a girl who constantly reminds me
you can never erase  
the soul of a gypsy
when they've pounded feet  
into soil they dare  
to walk upon,
 
i believe  
greatness  
often skips  
a generation  
in a bloodline
 
my little  
savage;
 
walk on
walk on
walk on.
 
Written by _feral
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