Poetry competition CLOSED 28th March 2023 2:28pm
WINNER
PAR (PAULO ACACIO RAMOS)
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RUNNER-UP: dimpy

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The Grim reaper

poet Anonymous

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poet Anonymous

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poet Anonymous

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

The Grim Reaper

The Grim Reaper was having his midnight meal
At the greasiest of greasy spoons
Lousy meal and in a lousy mood
When he saw her coming it all improved
And her destiny was sealed.
For beyond her beauty he saw
All the nastiness concealed
All the horror she spread around
All the killings that filled her needs

It was time for her to go
Suddenly their eyes met
Determination in his
Fear and panic in hers
And though she tried to move
It was no longer possible
As her heart skipped a beat
Then more than a few
And her master she went to meet.
Written by robert43041 (Viking)
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poet Anonymous

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dimpy
dimpsmoon
Dangerous Mind
India 3awards
Joined 9th Mar 2023
Forum Posts: 79

Victory of death

     Life like bright morning
      death is just a thicket
      death does not listen to
       anything, draggs even
       through caves,
       in the mist of evening
       battered sun
       red with shame
       scared
       blackness
       of clouds immersed in
       semi-transparent
       wrapped
       behind the mountains
       hides and
       finally settled
       and the darkness of the night
       the redness of the sky
       swallowed up
       dark black
       cover with blanket
       fearfully,
       silent
       trees & plants
       mountains, valleys
       standing silent
       lose  color
       black shapes
       became,
       and nature
       hold your breath
       was steady, erect.
       some dogs
       some time
       must bark
       shut up again
       maybe alone
       have fallen
       and
       of silence
       deafeningly silent
       in sound
       their call
       remained unheard
       uncertain
       twinkling stars
       in the dark
       protector and eater
       to differentiate
       unable
       have become
       and
       in this darkness
       the grim reaper comes,
       slits throats with scythe and  
       the blue sky
       bleeds
       body vanished
       Death
       Done!
Written by dimpy (dimpsmoon)
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Jordan
D.O.C.
Thought Provoker
United States 13awards
Joined 4th May 2022
Forum Posts: 245

Buttercups and Sweet Peas Reaped

or    
     
The Stages Set for Grief    
     
"What you sow, I reap --  
after I fuck it over."    
-- a grossly obese Grim Reaper    
yet of an appetite    
greedy    
     
*    
     
Close listen to the tick-tock of thy biologic clock --    
Time ill at ease reminding thee to sow a teensy seed    
ere withered tubes and ovaries upon your womb come knock    
announcing to thy lady parts the chance hath passed to breed!    
Imagine thou the Horror on the hearing of such news --    
the sudden shock inducing straight thy uterus to faint,    
thy labia agape in disbelief to hit the booze,    
thine angry vulva cracking up to need a belt restraint!    
Plus picture thy vagina frantic in a drastic plea --    
soliciting but hosts of holy ghosts to hump it hard,    
while off online yet in a funk still on a shopping spree    
thy clitty hopped-up on endorphins maxes out its card!    
Till last on the acceptance of thy crotch's tragic fate --    
that horny old Grim Reaper cancels one more dinner date . . .    
     
*    
     
a dedication of Respect    
for      
the unsolicited Pain of each blossom    
nipped in the bud    
or withered on the vine    
     
a revolving helios sonnet menippean satire on    
the sowing of natalism --    
with its cycles grim of endless reapings    
scythed    
     
march, 2023 -- Death      
the braggart and brat    
still the accomplishment of parents    
prideful    
 
Written by Jordan (D.O.C.)
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mcjay
Fire of Insight
Canada 6awards
Joined 11th Mar 2015
Forum Posts: 514

In cloak of black, he comes to call
The Grim Reaper, death to us all
His scythe, a weapon sharp and cold
Cuts through the flesh, the young and old

He haunts our dreams and stalks our nights
A specter of doom, a bringer of fright
His eyes like pits, his face a skull
He takes the souls, the precious toll

No mercy in his heart, no pity in his soul
He cares not for the young, the weak or the old
For death is his only true desire
And none can escape his relentless ire

The Grim Reaper, the end of our days
He comes for us all in so many ways
So let us live our lives with care
For when he comes, we'll meet him there.

wallyroo92
Tyrant of Words
United States 147awards
Joined 11th July 2012
Forum Posts: 1757

Cold Dead Hand

 
He is the dark figure that always come calling  
His presence means that this is the end of the road  
His scythe cuts the thread of life, there’s no stalling  
He comes to collect everything he is owed  
 
He is the only thing that is assured in our lives  
A pre-determined arrangement nobody knows  
He is an unstoppable force that when he arrives  
Everything halts briefly just as he comes and goes  
 
You think you know your fate, your faith, his face?  
He can take any shape or form or whatever situation  
His cold dead hand can grab you from any place  
Whether young or old without any hesitation  
 
When destiny draws your number in its mystic scroll  
He always finds you no matter how far you run or crawl  
Creeping death will take your breath and claim your soul  
Beware the Grim Reaper because he comes for us all
Written by wallyroo92
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PAR
PAULO ACACIO RAMOS
Fire of Insight
Portugal 15awards
Joined 26th May 2022
Forum Posts: 209

Absent Reaper

The skinny grimace of those who
love us
trembling suspiciously in the
eyelids
it's a crotch's rainbow
from one to the other
gold at the bottom of the pot
gold in the teeth of death
Mars retrograde transit
dry cut
God on the run...

In everyone's hands
the mark is put
as a souvenir
of the original clay.

Craft mold?
a basin or a lamp
one that sustains
another that shakes and illuminates
twilight between two sleeps
man under renovation
stuck light bulb
over a book
and body and snow and stone
uncertain flame.

And now this honey
gives meanings
to hidden beings
by the vessels
that shaped
by the flames...

In the mystery of waiting
immortal bread
eternal light
death comes out
behind the worn basin
of the lamp and
(pilgrim spirit)
brings the radiations of the whole
everything radiates
skinny smile
everything delights
and has love for the lamps
and basins
more than the source
more than clay.

All are vessels
fluttering
moving away beyond
of age of reason
going to the last moment
to peer into the impossibility
the obscurity
traction of famines
immortal waiting
of the final pitch.


PAR
Written by PAR (PAULO ACACIO RAMOS)
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ConsequentialChaos
Thought Provoker
United States 2awards
Joined 7th Oct 2022
Forum Posts: 27

The Reaping Clock

Death walks in sync with the ticking of a clock
But this clock has no numbers, just a steady mock
Fangs bared, it stalks its prey in the eternal night
A crypt of shadows, where the living take flight

The key is turning, the lock about to break
As the sands of time sink, with each step it takes
A void of emptiness, where the soul is lost
In the eternal dance, at whatever cost

The ticking echoes through the hallways of the dead
A symphony of sorrow, in which we are wed
The clock has no numbers, but it marks our fate
A never-ending cycle, of life and death's debate

So let us embrace the darkness, and the end that draws near
For in the void of eternal night, death is always here
Written by ConsequentialChaos
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Rew
Fire of Insight
England 13awards
Joined 30th Sep 2022
Forum Posts: 287

MadameLavender
Guardian of Shadows
United States 86awards
Joined 17th Feb 2013
Forum Posts: 5594

Death Takes a Vacation

So you see, it's like this--
Ol' Grimmy needs a little break
(once in a while)
from centuries of collecting souls....

You know, I get a bit fed up
at times
with all the whiners
trying to avoid their ride across the River Styx
"Nooooo! Please--it's not my time yet!"
(Um, yeah, it is-- get in the friggin' boat already
I'm on a schedule here)

So I said to myself
"Grimmy, you need a vacation"
and that's what I did--
hired me an Uber
so the souls can still get to their destination
and took off for a bit of sightseeing.

Funny thing is, about NYC--I fit right in....
especially in Times Square.
And the cash tips I made
from the photo ops with tourists
thinking I was just another costumed performer ..

Man, I earned way more than I get
from all the coins for ferry fee, I charge
for trips to the other side.
(and if the IRS makes me claim that
on my taxes, I can just take my sickle
to them, and....)

So yeah, I saw the world.
Went to all the cool places,
even saw Styx in concert
(just had to, since my river has the same name)
But the tickets cost an arm and a leg
(not mine, though)

It was worth it , and
I have a cool souvenir t-shirt
which I wear under my hooded robe.

But all good things, must come to an end,
(and I can't afford to keep the Uber forever)
so back to the grind, I went, though
not without reminiscing
about drinking coronas on the beach
with Snoop Dogg, and
the casinos in Vegas, and
that nice little baguette shop in Paris, and
and...
and....

*Sigh*

I gotta start planning my next vacation,
but for now

"Git in my damn boat, fatso---you're next!



Written by MadameLavender
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tomgoonery
Tommy.
Lost Thinker
United States 2awards
Joined 25th May 2020
Forum Posts: 26

Mr. Reaper

I feel numb, and nothing helps me feel alive.  
I want to run away and not be traumatized.    
I bought a gun and a pack of hollows at the store.    
But I just need one. Satan, I'll be at your door.    
I'm not alone. I have my demons right beside me.    
I'm coming home. Mr. Reaper, come and find me.
Written by tomgoonery (Tommy.)
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AspergerPoet56
Tyrant of Words
Scotland 30awards
Joined 4th Dec 2018
Forum Posts: 1853

I Am Death

I am death
The spirit that eats the living
Reaping the souls
The last remaining breath
Of loved ones cherished ones

I am death
The one that spreads fear
Spreads dread into beating hearts
Darkness is my light
Silence my music

I am death
Feeding on the vulnerable
Choosing without discrimination
I don’t care if you have lived 100 years
Or have never left the womb

I am death
The opposite of what is held dear
Like a dark cloud I hover above life
Like the rain that dampens the summer
I dampen existence

I am death
The whisper through time
The architect of sorrow
I take hope and destroy it
It’s my destiny to take who I want

I am death
I can turn a room cold
With my very presence
I create the void in every heart
Your fate is to know me
Written by AspergerPoet56
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