Poetry competition CLOSED 1st June 2022 4:47am
WINNER
Casted_Runes (Mr Karswell)
Casted_Runes (Mr Karswell)
RUNNER-UP:
mysteriouslady
You died
Poetry Contest Description
You died, but you can hear what is said about you....
You can hear the conversations. Nice things, bad things?
Poems up to 50 lines preferred. Short stories, up to two thousand words.
May you rest in peace or in one piece. In a coffin. Or in one of those urns. Mine, already chosen, will be the cheapest carton box available.
Poems up to 50 lines preferred. Short stories, up to two thousand words.
May you rest in peace or in one piece. In a coffin. Or in one of those urns. Mine, already chosen, will be the cheapest carton box available.
Not a Bad Word
Not a bad word about Jim, I thought,
until I died and saw the light
shining out an arse or two.
“Always thought no-one could say
a single bad word about him.”
That one hurt the most,
coming from Juliet,
for whom I’d always buy a cup of tea.
until I died and saw the light
shining out an arse or two.
“Always thought no-one could say
a single bad word about him.”
That one hurt the most,
coming from Juliet,
for whom I’d always buy a cup of tea.
Written by Casted_Runes
(Mr Karswell)
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Requiem
Dead
Incinerated
Buried.
''He was such a great business partner''
Said a bungee scheme business partner of his.
''He was such a miser"
Reflected the grieving widow
Who had so far got away
With murder, having progressively increased
Some dosages and decreased others.
''He was such a loving father''
Said the daughter, in love with a father
Who had abused her and (anyway)
Rather hating the mother
Who did-not-know-never knew- ignored
His despicable behavior
Incinerated
Buried.
''He was such a great business partner''
Said a bungee scheme business partner of his.
''He was such a miser"
Reflected the grieving widow
Who had so far got away
With murder, having progressively increased
Some dosages and decreased others.
''He was such a loving father''
Said the daughter, in love with a father
Who had abused her and (anyway)
Rather hating the mother
Who did-not-know-never knew- ignored
His despicable behavior
Written by robert43041
(Viking)
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When I Die
The darkness came, and covered her soul
She spoke of it often, about letting it in from the cold
About the sounds it made
Pulling its sword and its blade
From its shadowy side
And so her world went up in flames
Consuming her skin and hands
Her body lifted from the floor
Into the ashes that would feed the core
Of the cherry tree we’ll plant next door
She’ll forever weep in the rain and snow
And reach with blossoms to the floor
Endlessly a part
Of everything it will live for
In that darkness we’ll speak, brush aside the leaves and weep
Of lives she touched and wounds so steep
She balanced it all and still managed to sleep
We might open up her story then
And read the parts she kept locked until when
Her body billowed in the breeze
Every spring on fresh new leaves
We’ll know her secrets dark and deep
And stain the pages with tears as we weep
We didn’t know
Her life was so
Endlessly torn apart
All we knew
Was her golden heart
She spoke of it often, about letting it in from the cold
About the sounds it made
Pulling its sword and its blade
From its shadowy side
And so her world went up in flames
Consuming her skin and hands
Her body lifted from the floor
Into the ashes that would feed the core
Of the cherry tree we’ll plant next door
She’ll forever weep in the rain and snow
And reach with blossoms to the floor
Endlessly a part
Of everything it will live for
In that darkness we’ll speak, brush aside the leaves and weep
Of lives she touched and wounds so steep
She balanced it all and still managed to sleep
We might open up her story then
And read the parts she kept locked until when
Her body billowed in the breeze
Every spring on fresh new leaves
We’ll know her secrets dark and deep
And stain the pages with tears as we weep
We didn’t know
Her life was so
Endlessly torn apart
All we knew
Was her golden heart
Written by DreamIllusions
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Related submission no longer exists.
The Guest
The Guest
You still scratch your neck
when your mind wanders
from this moment
playing Call of Duty
with the screen still too close
to your eyes, and in between breaths
you text your girlfriend
‘come for dinner’;
I have never met her.
Downstairs, Dad is making
meat sauce forgetting the garlic
I can smell from the kitchen, and
now warmly encircling us-
I silently urge you to tell him
to add some more onion and
he, too, should know
there will be three
at the table tonight.
There is one moment here
I worry you feel me
I lean in and whisper my love,
you tilt your forehead towards me
as though expecting my kisses to fall
onto your eyelids as they used to-
they still do, you don’t know-
at every good night.
The doorbell rings; familiar
you slide down the banister
frustrating your father,
he calls from the foyer
and with the front door open
I hear fussing and giggles;
an energy abundant,
a home wholly awaken.
I try hard to fade swiftly
without moving your
thrown-on-floor hoodie
too painful to follow you
it’s been a sweet visit
but for one moment more
I hold onto this space
hoping more of your world
finds its way up the staircase
while I ponder which one of you
sits in the dining chair
closest to the kitchen.
You still scratch your neck
when your mind wanders
from this moment
playing Call of Duty
with the screen still too close
to your eyes, and in between breaths
you text your girlfriend
‘come for dinner’;
I have never met her.
Downstairs, Dad is making
meat sauce forgetting the garlic
I can smell from the kitchen, and
now warmly encircling us-
I silently urge you to tell him
to add some more onion and
he, too, should know
there will be three
at the table tonight.
There is one moment here
I worry you feel me
I lean in and whisper my love,
you tilt your forehead towards me
as though expecting my kisses to fall
onto your eyelids as they used to-
they still do, you don’t know-
at every good night.
The doorbell rings; familiar
you slide down the banister
frustrating your father,
he calls from the foyer
and with the front door open
I hear fussing and giggles;
an energy abundant,
a home wholly awaken.
I try hard to fade swiftly
without moving your
thrown-on-floor hoodie
too painful to follow you
it’s been a sweet visit
but for one moment more
I hold onto this space
hoping more of your world
finds its way up the staircase
while I ponder which one of you
sits in the dining chair
closest to the kitchen.
Written by ursa
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tombstone
This poem is being entered in the You Died Competition
the day i die
and am laid to rest
i want it knowm
i gave life my best
i lived with words
died writing my verse
i loved this life
for better or worse
my last request
i ask if i may
on my tombstone
i want it to say:
here's faithmairee
who finally rests
no more poeing
for this poetess
the day i die
and am laid to rest
i want it knowm
i gave life my best
i lived with words
died writing my verse
i loved this life
for better or worse
my last request
i ask if i may
on my tombstone
i want it to say:
here's faithmairee
who finally rests
no more poeing
for this poetess
Written by faithmairee
(Faith Elizabeth Brigham)
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A swim through the hourglass and a fall through the cracks of time.
(ii.)
July 2019—
it's within seconds,
perhaps less
and i'm comfortably lost
wayward and winding
twisting through curves
a soaring float without end
upon a 'something'
a mind's version
this, my ethereal misty
being lighter than
ever before
my husk and i
traveling so high
an inner voice,
the one
of non-stop nagging
quieted now
only one sound—
blood rushing in veins
or maybe soft winds
brushing against cooled skin
senses dull a bit
i can smell
sweet earth
and taste the harsh reality of iron
feeling a heartbeat
that slows,
unnoticed
pain morphs
to a grey blue
as any
and all panic disappears
danger dissolves
it all becomes alright
clear, crystallized
no fear no doubts
only a small sadness
that i would never see you
or have you know.
as i felt it all
less
and
less
Written by Bluevelvete
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