Poetry competition CLOSED 25th October 2021 6:32am
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RUNNERS-UP: slipalong and Calamityofgin

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Brutalist Architecture & The Bleakness of Life

Suffering Montana
Twisted Dreamer
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Joined 18th Feb 2021
Forum Posts: 16

Poetry Contest

Describe the subtle sadness of the modern urban landscape.

Tell us about the color of your city, the cramped apartment building you live in, the amount of pollution you breathe in when you walk out the door, and the sheer amount of life that's sapped from you when you look into an empty concrete building.

Tell us about the cars people drive, and the noises they make as they pass on by, the sirens in the distance that rattle your brain around in your head in the early morning, the factories and refineries you live by, the poverty and despair that surrounds you, and any other motif to compliment that feeling of slow death that accompanies you on the cracked sidewalks and pitted streets.

I look forward to seeing what we come up with this go around!

Suffering Montana
Twisted Dreamer
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Joined 18th Feb 2021
Forum Posts: 16

Neverending agony

Fractured thoughts ring right through
Reverberated thoughts clash with the walls
And my face contorts in terror
Do you understand what I'm saying?
White on white, sanitary walls and cotton sheets
Blue latex-free gloves, how they grip the skin tight
Now the air stinks of rubber and rubbing alcohol

Sidewalks on sidewalks on asphalt and concrete
The world is a series of multicolored lights
Red, yellow, and green switch and interchange
And the blinking red lights stream across the sky
So numerous they are indistinguishable from the stars
Have we overshadowed the majesty of the cosmos-
with our pretty blinking signs and advertisements
Craned down and shoved into their eyes
Like information given poorly
To manage your frustration

I can barely see the peaks on the horizon
Smoke clouds the hills and clings to the slopes
Casting every point of radiance through foggy lenses
Streaking across the screen like a misty windshield
And I look down to my soapy-clean hands
To find they are covered in blood
Only to wonder if this is how it feels to be the antagonist
In a fable older than the furthest father of my forefathers
Written by ANATNOM_GNIREFFUS (Suffering Montana)
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Thought Provoker
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Joined 14th July 2021
Forum Posts: 23

Modern Design

  † † † † † †  
Steel encasements † † † † † † †  
† † † † † † † †
Encampments † † † † † † †  
    that gird and guard † † † † † † †  
† † † † † † † †
Urban language † † † † † † † †
    of architectureís art † † † † † † †  
† † † † † † † †
Spires reaching † † † † † † † †
    as mortal prowess † † † † † † † †
† † † † † † † †
    extends † † † † † † †  
† † † † † † † †
Sharpened corners † † † † † † †  
    that lust and coldness † † † † † † † †
† † † † † † † †
†† †lend † † † † † † †  
† † † † † † † †
Contours supple † † † † † † †  
†† †of the human heart † † † † † † † †
† † † † † † † †
†† †forsaken † † † † † † † †
† † † † † † † †
Forgetting † † † † † † † †
†† †our bond of blood † † † † † † † †
† † † † † † † †
The softness of mud † † † † † † †  
† † † † † † † †
The smallness of human † † † † † † †  
Written by Keilani
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Fire of Insight
United Kingdom
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Joined 15th Sep 2019
Forum Posts: 366

London town

Scrubbing nylon brushes
scratch the backs of dirty streets.
Outside the shops
with sagged oak beams,
untold news is gagged with string.
Rubbish crushed by talking trucks
reverse away a day of waste,
underground she groans awake
on gyroscopic legs.
Quiet queues that crave Chai Latte,
commune on phones with robot thumbs.
Wired heads are sealed by force-fields
that keep in the morning dead.
The shelter tells its guests to go,
slow limbs dress out of place
and trace the steps they've come to know,
handed out with backstreet grace.
Styles hang without conclusion,
collars fold against the old,
track suits tuck inside cross trainers,
while winkles pick Italian soles.
Traffic fills like grain to silos,
till the volume stems the flow,
Moving faster watched by time,
tunnels belch the crowds in lines,
non-stop feet reveal the smart,
the tough, the cocky stronger harder stuff,
the map readers, the pigeon feeders,
the lunch time sitters, the park keep-fitters,
the slightly mad, the latest fads
the single parent working dads,
the bus riders without a seat,
all proudly swing with London's beat.
Written by Razzerleaf
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Lost Thinker
United States
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Joined 21st Nov 2017
Forum Posts: 9

Best Interests

All hail this capitalist perversion.
Where everything has it's price.
Consume it all and don't think twice.
It's all part of the diversion.

So frail, this democratic delusion.
Where people vote to have a voice.
Believing that they have a choice,
But it's all just an illusion.

For sale, is a nation in division.
Where politicians tell their lies,
With hopes that you won't realize
That it's never your decision.

It wont be safe to drink the rain,
Or use the plants from fruited plains.
They'll own the water and the food
And soon enough,
They'll own you too.
Written by PoeticInjustice
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Fire of Insight
United Kingdom
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Joined 1st Jan 2018
Forum Posts: 670

Broken utopia

The modern gothic withering
 sun that shines, on its pox ridden skin.  
B movie moonlight  
from slightly bent streetlights.  
Patchwork of potholes,  
silently waiting for the unwilling wheel  
the IED that can cripple steel.  
Parading graffiti, artist's fading handle  
long gone, on his BMX bikes saddle,  
like some Chinese lettering
identity smudged and degrading.  

Impudent weeds grabbing a foothold,  
the victory of thorns freehold.  
†Brown rust eked on by the trash cans, †
thoroughfares in desolation and envy,  
Prostitutes and pimps,  
cracked red lanterns glint,  
the ATM where desire lays pinned.  
Clink the lights from the liquor store  
A sign on the church, it hangs  
"Faith is the ever giving hand"  
†chained and padlocked, †  
pigeons its only flock.  

†Smell of fast food, Doner's stuck on wooden skewers,  
†fat burgs choking Up the sewers.  
Aspirations of the 1970 mall,  
waiting for the wreaking ball.  
Architecture its esteem †
decay, as time worms, its ragged frieze.  
Dirty finger nails of existence,  
and hope, sipped from a brown paper bag.  
Commerce is the grunt and thrust.  
The crumbling edges blurred  
come, black crows that peck the cracking kerb

The ghetto sits like a tattered hobo
just small change in its begging bowl
Written by slipalong
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Dangerous Mind
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Joined 10th Jan 2021
Forum Posts: 3245

The Heel-Click Blues

I canít speak of course
for the endless packs
of public-school jokers †  
littering the countries trains †
with their overcoats †  
and briefcases †  
how they congregate in droves †
with Costa cups up and down †
slate grey platforms, judging †
every sports brand †  
and hair extension †
talking endlessly †
into devices too big to hold †
as they amplify themselves †
amongst rapturous gaffawing †
coming from microchips †
paid for in cold hard cash. †
Not sure how †  
they ended up hereó †
but I think of courthouses †
and stamped social cheques; †
how they all need barristers †
in this town †
how everyone craves acquittal †  
for trying to live, trying to justify †
crimes to put weed in their lungs †
and bad food in their bellies †
and I feel itó †
I feel it every time  
the heels click against
Northern Rail concrete †  
that divide †  
between what is †
and what should be.
Written by Northern_Soul (-Missy-)
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Fire of Insight
United Kingdom
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Joined 23rd Jan 2021
Forum Posts: 597



do you see
how poverty
can dance

how dreams
slowly suffocate
themselves in
humid tubes,

how rage
never calms

the undying
seeking other
places to
Written by _feral
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Fire of Insight
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Joined 17th Sep 2020
Forum Posts: 110

Sonnet to a past

Here? fields we rambled played and picnicked on
adjacent there, the forcing rhubarb sheds,
those black tar-papered huts these, also gone,
ground under concrete and forever dead.
Here, can you imagine it? hedgerows grew,
flourished even, beside old dry-stone walls,
beaten pathways, on hard packed earth, these flew
between farmer's fields, where green crops grew tall.
Nothing remains but imaged memories
and these alas engraved in simple minds,
all those crops, trees and country greenery,
lost to the progress of we humankind.
Drive on this superhighway under which
lie farms, fields, picknick-spots and cricket pitch.
Written by Insiderew (Rew)
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Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 4th Apr 2019
Forum Posts: 69


windows boarded
and roofs caved in
this  town
choked on itself decades ago,
resistance a thorn in its musty craw,
that southern sheen of kindness
hiding a cancer hot and roiling under its pale skin,
its history dark, bloody, and proud
and goddamn if i couldn't feel its sickness
rising through the concrete
and smell it at every turn,
us proud southern boys
still waving our stupid flags
our poor ol' fathers' fathers
shackled by the same strange hubris
willing to die for a planter's cause
thus as much a slave as any
only white,
relishing their privilege
but standing just a hair's breadth
from the whipping post,
a heritage
better forgotten
Written by javalini
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Tyrant of Words
United States
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Joined 11th July 2012
Forum Posts: 1363

The Throwaways

Another block of new luxury homes just went up
As the farms are getting further and further away
And the freeway overpasses are getting pretty large
The city seems to be expanding every single day

The rental buildings around here go on for miles
Iím guessing some folks are raking in a lot of cash
America, one of the richest nations in the world
As I watch the homeless search through the trash

The nice cars pull out of the nicer neighborhoods
While the destitue walk aimlessly in the boulevard
Pushing their carts with all their belongings
Some hungry, some high and some mentally scarred

Somewhere in every city and every town in the nation
Secret labs are cooking up their crank
And the addicts fall deeper into the spiral
While politicians worry more about whatís in their bank

Call it an eyesore, call it sad, it should make you mad
The imbalance in the system is destroying many lives
While homes and buildings go up every single day
The throwaways of society are helplessly trying to survive
Written by wallyroo92
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Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 10th May 2020
Forum Posts: 148

Eureka Springs Arkansas

This one wears  
A Victorian smirk  
Like layers of an uppity bitches petty coat  
(Idk if they wore petty coats in the whole Victorian scene, Idc either. This place seems like that, is what Iím saying.)  
I cannot imagine  
The resources  
Vs. the undertaking being anything other than ..  
a whole Marie Antoinette kinda vibe  
But fuck itís pretty  
Fuck it gathers them in  
All the pedestrian people come to dig the scene  
Get lost in the bricks  
Pry them up with bored and exhausted fingers  
I served food to an elderly couple celebrating a 42 year anniversary today and a newly wed couple on their first night out since their baby was born.  
I gave both couples Jell-O shots and Sea salt caramel cake on the house.  
The house band was playing Turn the page by Bob Seger.  

It was  magical  
I let them eat cake  
It was magical for them for a moment..  
tomorrow they go home.  
To comfort and concrete  
Or dirt roads that seem endless in some God forsaken town, Texarkana or some place where their cousins go noodling (google it, it happens, Iíve done it, itís terrifying) or their Moms side of the family is Pentecostal (also a little terrifying)  
But the streets are familiar..  
and home.  
And they can recall moments that kinda mattered at every corner.  
The corners around me, new to me. And as I described, present an uppity bitch vibe.  
Iím finding my home here though  
The scene looks hip to me  
Written by Calamityofgin
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Thought Provoker
United Kingdom
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Joined 8th Dec 2016
Forum Posts: 79

Suffering Montana
Twisted Dreamer
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Joined 18th Feb 2021
Forum Posts: 16

As we wind down, closing out when the clock strikes midnight, I'd like us all to give everyone's entries a good read and keep one in mind that perfectly captures that special gloomy feeling. Good luck to everyone!

DU Webmistress
Mistress of the Underground
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The winner of this competition and any runners up were decided by public vote.

Thank you to the following members for voting:

nutbuster, Marks, ANATNOM_GNIREFFUS, applepieand_books, Honoria, Bluevelvete, Phantom2426, lepperochan, cold_fusion, MadameLavender, _feral, javalini, Sweetlovin76, DanielChristensen, ReggiePoet, wallyroo92, PoetsRevenge, Vamps

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