Poetry competition CLOSED 6th October 2023 1:06am
WINNER
Ahavati (Tams)
Ahavati (Tams)
RUNNERS-UP:
slipalong
and Jordan
Prisoner
Poetry Contest Description
Poems on being a Prisoner
Write about being in prison; metaphorically, physically, or mentally.
Any length
Two entries per poet
Old writes accepted, new ones encouraged
No Collaboration
No Extreme Content
No commenting on the competition thread
Any length
Two entries per poet
Old writes accepted, new ones encouraged
No Collaboration
No Extreme Content
No commenting on the competition thread
The Ransom of the soul from speed freaks with a sex addiction
jolted out of a coma
Blind folded, hands and feet zip tied.
gagged.
bound.
ransomed by the words on this page
not yet an epitaph or eulogy
no saga or trilogy
neither fit the format. intentionally.
a furnace bellows it's fiery breath over
all it encapsulates
behold iam death, fire of pain and misery
scorching, gaseous, encompassing
the very atmosphere
sucking the Oxygen from its dragons breath
hurled at it's occupants
needle pokes and sex addiction
speed freaks on hypodermic meal regimens
breasts and hips and sweat and trances
lust of the scailed dragon burning with desire
pleasure pleasure pleasure die for it
burn for it
stick the syringe in and orgasm as the plunger hits 0
then try to live like a normal person.
fuck you
no one comes back from an hour long orgasm and says
I'll never do that again
Blind folded, hands and feet zip tied.
gagged.
bound.
ransomed by the words on this page
not yet an epitaph or eulogy
no saga or trilogy
neither fit the format. intentionally.
a furnace bellows it's fiery breath over
all it encapsulates
behold iam death, fire of pain and misery
scorching, gaseous, encompassing
the very atmosphere
sucking the Oxygen from its dragons breath
hurled at it's occupants
needle pokes and sex addiction
speed freaks on hypodermic meal regimens
breasts and hips and sweat and trances
lust of the scailed dragon burning with desire
pleasure pleasure pleasure die for it
burn for it
stick the syringe in and orgasm as the plunger hits 0
then try to live like a normal person.
fuck you
no one comes back from an hour long orgasm and says
I'll never do that again
Written by ds3371
(david spears)
Go To Page
Related submission no longer exists.
Song of the Rain
.
thickend red drips dried on the cement,
rusty cuffs will wake my wounds after a night sleep
with every tear drop I sow a seed filled with hope
unlike soil, nothing grow on my pillow
some sleepless night ends with,
me hugging my knees
I do what the cuffs do.
peeling off the dry skin from my ankle,
and I listen to the rain on my metal roof
wind control the volume and vapour in my cote
fill in of thunder screening shady shows to the wall
I crawled inside my wings to cover my naked body, shivering
sitting on the black feathers
It's my vip pass to the show
my breathe keep it a little warm inside
I look at dancing shadows through the feathers
listening to the rain
then comes the verse
played by the drops at the edge of the roof
wind will blow a background harmony
conducting music to trees
leaves and branches play their solos
then the crickets join in, then the frogs,
special features by wolves and owls
it is my window of satisfaction
I feel refreshed, I feel calm, I feel empty...
then the alarms of crows
the rooster, final act of my show
I don't want the sun to rise
I cant bear the torrid air
comes from the iron grill above
I love the night
I love the rain
I await your visit
bring me a
new song
.
thickend red drips dried on the cement,
rusty cuffs will wake my wounds after a night sleep
with every tear drop I sow a seed filled with hope
unlike soil, nothing grow on my pillow
some sleepless night ends with,
me hugging my knees
I do what the cuffs do.
peeling off the dry skin from my ankle,
and I listen to the rain on my metal roof
wind control the volume and vapour in my cote
fill in of thunder screening shady shows to the wall
I crawled inside my wings to cover my naked body, shivering
sitting on the black feathers
It's my vip pass to the show
my breathe keep it a little warm inside
I look at dancing shadows through the feathers
listening to the rain
then comes the verse
played by the drops at the edge of the roof
wind will blow a background harmony
conducting music to trees
leaves and branches play their solos
then the crickets join in, then the frogs,
special features by wolves and owls
it is my window of satisfaction
I feel refreshed, I feel calm, I feel empty...
then the alarms of crows
the rooster, final act of my show
I don't want the sun to rise
I cant bear the torrid air
comes from the iron grill above
I love the night
I love the rain
I await your visit
bring me a
new song
.
Written by dejure
(vick)
Go To Page
Dawn of Pushpins
Bleeding the rain streaking the window pane red.
In your hands, my soul, in solemn nights. Strings of a
cello chastising my melancholia from the quill of the
Apothecary as the powder of dust rubs off onto
my grave. Leaving a scent of hysteria chained to the
inkwell, with the lusting of a sentimental fool.
Mourning the dawn of pushpins and shadows of
Hydrangeas on my wall. Listening to insomnia
clinging to my insanity. Thinking I heard the canary
fall.
In your hands, my soul, in solemn nights. Strings of a
cello chastising my melancholia from the quill of the
Apothecary as the powder of dust rubs off onto
my grave. Leaving a scent of hysteria chained to the
inkwell, with the lusting of a sentimental fool.
Mourning the dawn of pushpins and shadows of
Hydrangeas on my wall. Listening to insomnia
clinging to my insanity. Thinking I heard the canary
fall.
Written by adagio
Go To Page
Catnip Of Thorns
In shadow's pale, catnip of thorns
dragging me to your empty grave
in nightmares that I have made
chasing demons of dark
A fragrant scent of death's horn
tasting of sweet formaldehyde
over veiled eyes of indelible ink
penning your twilight's obituary
As grey butterflies pass over shade
in shadow's pale, catnip of thorns
dragging me to your empty grave
hearing only an echo
dragging me to your empty grave
in nightmares that I have made
chasing demons of dark
A fragrant scent of death's horn
tasting of sweet formaldehyde
over veiled eyes of indelible ink
penning your twilight's obituary
As grey butterflies pass over shade
in shadow's pale, catnip of thorns
dragging me to your empty grave
hearing only an echo
Written by adagio
Go To Page
Lifer --
"Free Will" Unfree
*
My will yet longs to truly be full free,
to break its chains and from its cell escape,
to not desire each strong desire to pee;
each ache to whoopee make; each urge to vape;
each hankering for chocolate, cheese, and chips;
each yearning for a sexy, true soulmate;
each bent for psychedelic mushroom trips;
each itch to thrice a day long masturbate;
each greediness for beauty, fame, and wealth;
each thirst for milkshakes, bourbon, beer, and wine;
each neediness for happiness plus health;
each yen to pen a perfect rhyme each line --
for each desire incarcerates my will
unfree to flee its lusts delicious still.
*
*
My will yet longs to truly be full free,
to break its chains and from its cell escape,
to not desire each strong desire to pee;
each ache to whoopee make; each urge to vape;
each hankering for chocolate, cheese, and chips;
each yearning for a sexy, true soulmate;
each bent for psychedelic mushroom trips;
each itch to thrice a day long masturbate;
each greediness for beauty, fame, and wealth;
each thirst for milkshakes, bourbon, beer, and wine;
each neediness for happiness plus health;
each yen to pen a perfect rhyme each line --
for each desire incarcerates my will
unfree to flee its lusts delicious still.
*
Written by Jordan
(D.O.C.)
Go To Page
Paradise Lost
“The mind is its own place,
and in itself can make a heaven of hell,
a hell of heaven.” – John Milton, Paradise Lost
No prison is darker
as that of one’s mind
when jailer's thoughts
become torturous binds.
No captivity exceeds
our own mental belief
convincing ourselves
of thoughts that we think.
When indeed they will pass
if we choose to release
expectation and doubt
for patience and faith.
Greater is the knowledge
regardless of condition
that gratitude and love
hold the keys to freedom.
--
and in itself can make a heaven of hell,
a hell of heaven.” – John Milton, Paradise Lost
No prison is darker
as that of one’s mind
when jailer's thoughts
become torturous binds.
No captivity exceeds
our own mental belief
convincing ourselves
of thoughts that we think.
When indeed they will pass
if we choose to release
expectation and doubt
for patience and faith.
Greater is the knowledge
regardless of condition
that gratitude and love
hold the keys to freedom.
--
Written by Ahavati
(Tams)
Go To Page
Prisoner (w22)
Prisoner in my own mind
Unable a pleasurable exit to find
My own chosen path of hell
Tons of mistakes there to tell
When, where did I choose to fail
The easy, easiest, way to take
And for what sort of future to make?
Yes, Lazy my name
And with that I was expecting fame?
Thus silent and disparaging looks along the way
Pretty much all telling me to get lost and go away
Leaving me to fight single-handedly
With the poisons in my mind.
Unable a pleasurable exit to find
My own chosen path of hell
Tons of mistakes there to tell
When, where did I choose to fail
The easy, easiest, way to take
And for what sort of future to make?
Yes, Lazy my name
And with that I was expecting fame?
Thus silent and disparaging looks along the way
Pretty much all telling me to get lost and go away
Leaving me to fight single-handedly
With the poisons in my mind.
Written by robert43041
(Viking)
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Prisoner
Prisoner of my body
Prisoner of my fucked up mind
Prisoner
No escape, no way out
Except the Final One.
Prisoner of my fucked up mind
Prisoner
No escape, no way out
Except the Final One.
Written by robert43041
(Viking)
Go To Page
Locked In
Do you remember who you were before you were told who to be?
I can’t remember the last time I was allowed to dream
Broken hearts and broken promises; I’ve lost track of each
This mocha leaves me feeling bitter when it should have been sweet.
When can I pick up the pieces of my fractured psyche?
You’ve got me fumbling in the dark like a rat in a maze
You’ve locked me in my own mind, and threw away the key
Yet everyone else brushes it off by saying “she’s going through a phase.”
Instead of being taught logic, I was told what to think
I’ve got x’s in my record for daring to think outside of the box
I spoke my mind; I was recommended to a shrink
I’ve learned to fear every time I hear the door knock.
You don’t what to be locked in my mind
You don’t want to peel back the layers of lies and secrets
Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you’re horrified by what you find
Pills are shoved down my throat to complete my treatment.
I can’t remember the last time I was allowed to dream
Broken hearts and broken promises; I’ve lost track of each
This mocha leaves me feeling bitter when it should have been sweet.
When can I pick up the pieces of my fractured psyche?
You’ve got me fumbling in the dark like a rat in a maze
You’ve locked me in my own mind, and threw away the key
Yet everyone else brushes it off by saying “she’s going through a phase.”
Instead of being taught logic, I was told what to think
I’ve got x’s in my record for daring to think outside of the box
I spoke my mind; I was recommended to a shrink
I’ve learned to fear every time I hear the door knock.
You don’t what to be locked in my mind
You don’t want to peel back the layers of lies and secrets
Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you’re horrified by what you find
Pills are shoved down my throat to complete my treatment.
Written by LunasChild8
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