Poetry competition CLOSED 2nd March 2023 5:39pm
WINNER
MadameLavender
View Profile Poems by MadameLavender
sheild

Page:

It is not Chicago's famous Valentine Day Massacre.....

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

Poetry Contest

It has more to do with the type of mess you found yourself in that fateful day
.......started maybe with ugly clouds overhead, harbingers of doom, the ugly bouquet, the last of the bunch available........it started as an ugly day and got worse.  Let us know. Pour your heart out.  The real Mccoy or total invention.

Poems up to 50 lines or so.   No free verse.

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

Valentine day massacre

A mess, a total tragedy
A Valentine day feast  ending in misery
''You shall not insult my daughter the Chef''
Said the man, ready to throw the gauntlet
 
''What fine cuisine do you mean''
Replied the father of the groom-to-be
We eat better at greasy Spoon Régine
You should go take a look and see..
 
Thus meatballs flying all over mixed
With cheeze, sauce and spaghetti
Various faciès directly hit
Including that of gorgeous miss jenny
 
Morcels of a superb Black Forest cake
Maybe not entirely and fully baked
Was cause of a good deal of dissention
Leading also to this excessive reaction
 
And what to say about la tarte aux pommes à la cannelle
Which flew over the air
Barely missed Annabelle
And, in the face, hit John, otherwise
Always looking smart and débonnair
 
Yes, even the noodles and rice
With chunks of chicken spiced
Were judged by some to be below par
And frowned upon with disdainful regards
 
So more cream pies flew high
Bodies crouched low
From all over tears and cries
And sadly Valentine's bow and arrow
Was forgotten in this massive pig stye
Thus he just left with a tear in his eyes
Never even bothering to say good-bye.
Written by robert43041 (Viking)
Go To Page  

Jordan
D.O.C.
Thought Provoker
United States 13awards
Joined 4th May 2022
Forum Posts: 237

Amour Propre Massacred

or          
            
Trust Me, Sweetie -- That Flood You See Is the Harbinger of Doom            
           
"Love's labor is lost on most bums."          
-- a pair of sore knees            
           
*            
           
My valentine yet brings the dozen roses every year,      
gives yet the box of chocolates plus the rainbow Hallmark card,      
appears beneath the balcony yet donned the balladeer,      
recites the sugar'd sonnets sweet yet scribbled by "The Bard,"        
reserves the Lincoln limousine with yet the new-car smell,      
the table on the terrace orders yet at Jean-Pierre's,      
requests the moonlight yet perform Boléro by Ravel,      
beyond the spheres yet sweeps romance up sweeps of starlit stairs,      
secures the suite of sable skies yet o'er the coast of pearls,      
Armand de Brignac Rose yet pours beneath the tipsy sea,      
to yet the True Love easy to the helm the sail unfurls,      
and pirates yet the jewel deep inside the hull of me --      
aside, of course, from buying yet the cheap, behemoth brush,      
with which I yet here scrub the head the pirate fails to flush.      
           
*            
           
a dedication of Respect            
for            
the True Romeo who does johns            
           
           
a revolving helios sonnet shakespearean satire menippean on            
the routine romance            
           
february, 2023 -- yet wishing on Valentine's Day 1929            
I'd been in Chicago            
in the wrong place            
at the wrong time            
 
Written by Jordan (D.O.C.)
Go To Page  

MadameLavender
Guardian of Shadows
United States 86awards
Joined 17th Feb 2013
Forum Posts: 5592

Valentine's Day, 1967

Such a messy day

Blizzard winds blow
ice pellets, snow
stalling the land
while she breathes in gasps

Such a messy day

The pressure
drops in isobars
increases around her--
so young, Hippie, seventeen

Such a messy day

Here comes the water
here comes the blood --
push!
Harder, snowflakes keep failing.

Such a messy day

I have arrived
with frost and gales,
with amnion and placenta
sleet, pelting , tapping-- let us in...

Such a messy day

I am handed back to her,
"Nightingale" discarded with other names.
Thank you, Mother--
I'll take it from here.

Such a messy day
Written by MadameLavender
Go To Page  

admin
DU Webmistress
Mistress of the Underground
1awards

The winner of this competition and any runners up were decided by public vote.

Thank you to the following members for voting:

lepperochan, admin, PAR, Rew, Ted_Nashe, Betty, MidnightSonneteer, Everavalon, Marks, Phantom2426, Rianne, robert43041, Tallen, monovox128

Page:
Go to: