Poetry competition CLOSED 15th June 2022 9:16pm
WINNER
Pishashee
Pishashee
RUNNER-UP:
javalini
Orange is the colour
Poetry Contest Description
Write about the colour orange
For this competition I would like you to write about the colour orange… without saying the word orange. Where does the colour orange take you in your mind?
I think orange gets a bad press.
I’m after a poem that takes the reader on a bit of a journey on a memory or thing that it triggers… not just describing the colour. Don’t be basic…
Rules
• You may not use the word orange. Not even in the title.
• New writes only
• Up to 2 entries per human being
• Erotica is fine if it’s relevant
• Over 50 words in length
• No pictures on entries please
• Video / Audio / picture entries not allowed
I think orange gets a bad press.
I’m after a poem that takes the reader on a bit of a journey on a memory or thing that it triggers… not just describing the colour. Don’t be basic…
Rules
• You may not use the word orange. Not even in the title.
• New writes only
• Up to 2 entries per human being
• Erotica is fine if it’s relevant
• Over 50 words in length
• No pictures on entries please
• Video / Audio / picture entries not allowed
Anonymous
a burn, a stain
if you're out there crying
in abyss
day or night,
there are
miserable fucks
doing the
exact same
thing as
you
who
lay out there
waiting to
hear you
burn,
maybe
even
worse
like a
sunset
perfuming
dreams on
broken
skin,
like an
open throat
baptised
in amber
served
cold
or a
poem
tattooing
itself in
rust
because
we are all
miserable
fucks,
looking
for some
kind of
light.
Delicacies
It is possible to make
Fine dishes using egg whites only
For one recipe in particular, add milk, flower
And, if desired, a small amount of sugar
And you have crêpes....of sorts.
But start with the entire egg,
Which adds color, adds taste
And expands the possibilities
As well as the range of delicacies.
Have a superb breakfast
While enjoying the rising sun.
Fine dishes using egg whites only
For one recipe in particular, add milk, flower
And, if desired, a small amount of sugar
And you have crêpes....of sorts.
But start with the entire egg,
Which adds color, adds taste
And expands the possibilities
As well as the range of delicacies.
Have a superb breakfast
While enjoying the rising sun.
Written by robert43041
(Viking)
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Sol
The sun burns on the horizon
surrounded by a patchwork rainbow
of pinks and purples and clouds
a beacon at the end of the day
a blazing farewell gesture
a herald of the stars and moon
waiting for the golden orb
to drop into the sea
and reappear tomorrow morning
a fire in the sky to greet the day
surrounded by a patchwork rainbow
of pinks and purples and clouds
a beacon at the end of the day
a blazing farewell gesture
a herald of the stars and moon
waiting for the golden orb
to drop into the sea
and reappear tomorrow morning
a fire in the sky to greet the day
Written by Indie
(Miss Indie)
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The colour O
Tangerine star
A blazing burst of flavour
The splash and the squeeze
That blends your flesh with my fruit
I fervently consume the juice
And the juice consumes me
Swallows me whole
Drowning in bleeding juice
Your body
Tart and stringent
Drizzled in sharp nectar
And brimming with untold possibilities
I’m so ready
For
This
A blazing burst of flavour
The splash and the squeeze
That blends your flesh with my fruit
I fervently consume the juice
And the juice consumes me
Swallows me whole
Drowning in bleeding juice
Your body
Tart and stringent
Drizzled in sharp nectar
And brimming with untold possibilities
I’m so ready
For
This
Written by Thesilverymoon
(Lauren Brenner)
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combination of yellow and red
Each citrus fruit from flower to its ripened orb
bathed in sunshine, branches weighed
thirst quenched by the rain sent by the lord
slowly change its colour day by day
with dimpled skin, pithy rind
so soon in pyramids, see it piled
keeps its amber flesh confined
its juice consumed by all, worldwide
it shouts "I'm sun shines brimming glass"
its brightened rust, refreshment you can trust
that burnished copper to lips are passed
that day-glow colour with its vivid musk
bathed in sunshine, branches weighed
thirst quenched by the rain sent by the lord
slowly change its colour day by day
with dimpled skin, pithy rind
so soon in pyramids, see it piled
keeps its amber flesh confined
its juice consumed by all, worldwide
it shouts "I'm sun shines brimming glass"
its brightened rust, refreshment you can trust
that burnished copper to lips are passed
that day-glow colour with its vivid musk
Written by slipalong
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Mangoes and Papa(yas)
Once a year the smell of fresh fruit
dominated the family excitement
the return of our Naval Father
Succulent mangoes
Papayas to paint our lips
trying to subside our energy
Excitement of reunion
of connection
……………..only to hear the sounds
Dad forcing
Mom trying to NOT
weep
whimper
WAIL
Once a year the smell still takes me
back to innocence and delight …..
Rage (once - I understood)
Still, the color in it’s soft shades and warm flavors
take me back to happy childhood memories
& a
child based rage.
Once a year the smell of fresh fruit
dominated the family excitement
the return of our Naval Father
Succulent mangoes
Papayas to paint our lips
trying to subside our energy
Excitement of reunion
of connection
……………..only to hear the sounds
Dad forcing
Mom trying to NOT
weep
whimper
WAIL
Once a year the smell still takes me
back to innocence and delight …..
Rage (once - I understood)
Still, the color in it’s soft shades and warm flavors
take me back to happy childhood memories
& a
child based rage.
give me the hue
that drowns
my blues
the dying sun's
gift
that turns
the world
l u c e n t
magic moments
creating giants
out of children
smiles
and
anticipation somewhere
whilst for others
wrapping up
of day's work
he who values gold
finds no different
those moments awash
in tangerine
some wavelengths
perhaps keep the best
for the last
bring me
the sandstone hue
and i will
be grateful to you
won't worry about the future
for what's bright
is right
there...
my blues
the dying sun's
gift
that turns
the world
l u c e n t
magic moments
creating giants
out of children
smiles
and
anticipation somewhere
whilst for others
wrapping up
of day's work
he who values gold
finds no different
those moments awash
in tangerine
some wavelengths
perhaps keep the best
for the last
bring me
the sandstone hue
and i will
be grateful to you
won't worry about the future
for what's bright
is right
there...
Written by cold_fusion
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Nature Praise & Honor
The standard delicious
Center of a jonquil on fire.
The blood in the
Mane of the lion.
Beneath the surface
With fingers
Of turmeric,
You dig a little.
The smell of bright sun
lined with pulp
& sweet ambition,
And deeply seeded with pride.
The packaging of a
Reese's Peanut Butter Cup;
I eat one at sunset,
And the other at sunrise.
Center of a jonquil on fire.
The blood in the
Mane of the lion.
Beneath the surface
With fingers
Of turmeric,
You dig a little.
The smell of bright sun
lined with pulp
& sweet ambition,
And deeply seeded with pride.
The packaging of a
Reese's Peanut Butter Cup;
I eat one at sunset,
And the other at sunrise.
Written by Pishashee
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It Only Looks Good In Rainbows and Gardens
It's the black sheep
and wayward son, of the color palette...
You know which one, I mean;
oran....
"Ssshh! Don't say it out loud ! It'll show up
like Beetlejuice, if you speak its name!
(that was a close one....)
But you know it, the
outcast that worms it's way into your every thought, until ....
you can't stop thinking about it, like
the iconic picture of James Dean,so
smug and dirty-smirked, with
that dangling defiant cigarette ...
yes, indeed, that
is just what the color oran......
"Good Lord-- you can't say it!"
(**sprinkles holy water**)
Ahem....
It is necessary in rainbows and quite worthy
in a garden--
I'll give IT, credit for that, but
the crocheted afghan, I just had to buy
at the estate sale
was coral.
Yes, it was far more coral, or
even salmon, if you will....
it was definitely not
---uh, uh, uh....tsk, tsk...
(don't say it, man... )
It sticks out like an inflamed intestine,
that afghan,
among all my calming , pretty
ocean aquas and sandy whites...
and I'm somewhat unsure about it,
but mostly not,
so it stays in the basket with the other afghans.
Perhaps I do prefer, once in a while,
a good jolt to the eyes
from that sneaky little color
oran...
"Sshhh...
and wayward son, of the color palette...
You know which one, I mean;
oran....
"Ssshh! Don't say it out loud ! It'll show up
like Beetlejuice, if you speak its name!
(that was a close one....)
But you know it, the
outcast that worms it's way into your every thought, until ....
you can't stop thinking about it, like
the iconic picture of James Dean,so
smug and dirty-smirked, with
that dangling defiant cigarette ...
yes, indeed, that
is just what the color oran......
"Good Lord-- you can't say it!"
(**sprinkles holy water**)
Ahem....
It is necessary in rainbows and quite worthy
in a garden--
I'll give IT, credit for that, but
the crocheted afghan, I just had to buy
at the estate sale
was coral.
Yes, it was far more coral, or
even salmon, if you will....
it was definitely not
---uh, uh, uh....tsk, tsk...
(don't say it, man... )
It sticks out like an inflamed intestine,
that afghan,
among all my calming , pretty
ocean aquas and sandy whites...
and I'm somewhat unsure about it,
but mostly not,
so it stays in the basket with the other afghans.
Perhaps I do prefer, once in a while,
a good jolt to the eyes
from that sneaky little color
oran...
"Sshhh...
Written by MadameLavender
Go To Page
Anonymous
Related submission no longer exists.
VESPERS
sit
and watch
as gods
dim
the lights
and my bright
star
spills fire
across their dusky
canvas
a lustrous
swirl,
a vaporous
panorama
smeared
above
the pines,
its fiery
clouds
the glowing
harbinger
of sacred
night
then crickets
and tree frogs
conjure
the moon
and stars are
pinholes
in a dark
cathedral sky,
the lights
of heaven
shining
through
and watch
as gods
dim
the lights
and my bright
star
spills fire
across their dusky
canvas
a lustrous
swirl,
a vaporous
panorama
smeared
above
the pines,
its fiery
clouds
the glowing
harbinger
of sacred
night
then crickets
and tree frogs
conjure
the moon
and stars are
pinholes
in a dark
cathedral sky,
the lights
of heaven
shining
through
Written by javalini
Go To Page
