Poetry competition CLOSED 30th April 2024 5:12pm
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2024 Official DUP NaPoWriMo Challenge

Joshua Bond
Tyrant of Words
Palestine 41awards
Joined 2nd Feb 2017
Forum Posts: 1793



The sun made a mark on my troubled soul
and I thought “so strange…, why-how can this be?”
then the devil changed the story — and took a stroll

‘it’s all about careless complicity’
said a voice that I might have recognised
and I thought “how strange that this can be”

‘get ready my friend, who knows what is prized
when stretched elastic finally fires? …’

was a voice that maybe I recognised

THE WAY supports what the heart requires:
a banner of faith and heralded high
when the stretched elastic finally fires

‘You think you can do it, all on your own? Oh my
even I’
said the moon ‘learnt that lesson well
with a banner of faith, heralded high’

A civilisation’s self-tale might tell
when the devil changed the story — and took a stroll
‘even I’ said the moon ‘learnt my lesson well
when the sun made that mark on my troubled soul’.

Dangerous Mind
United States 19awards
Joined 8th July 2019
Forum Posts: 902



so much time has gone by,
the years spent in perpetual cycles
slightly altered but pretty much
the same day, the same weekend,
refreshed versions of themselves
ever sporting rapid growth and
slowly evolving personal dynamics,
reflecting in the ever-changing
backdrops of countless photos
taken as her boys grew into men,
and then, within a blink
her babies had babies of their own

Thought Provoker
United Kingdom 1awards
Joined 21st Feb 2024
Forum Posts: 65



This whole world is my personal playground
And I get to choose how I play

I’m climbing a’top the chimney stacks
To better view this oh so glorious day

I’m sliding through these decrepit streets
Whizzing fast as I go by

Just let me fly up way way high and
I’ll tell you when to slow down

Only when you change your entire perspective
Can you really realise the truth of it all

That age is yet but a number
We’re forever in our youth
That you see

But this world keeps on spinning
I’m lost but I’m winning
Yes we can all take some solace from that

Unique word count: 84

Tyrant of Words
United States 117awards
Joined 11th Apr 2015
Forum Posts: 14883



Survival isn’t surrender
to the swamps
of serene soliloquy

Even the Lotus
stretches upward
 refusing to be buried
 in muddy sediment

Dew becomes water
on the elephant leaf
 runs freely and dives
 off the chin
 when drank

condenses on the skin
gloats over its escape
then evaporates
into no thing

Poets walk on
through a desert
knowing nothing
is as it seems

There’s a bouquet
of origami roses
 without aroma
in some cafe
 that will never bow
 to the honey bee

It tangibly exists
as a mirage
 something real
 from a distance
as an oasis

We are upset dreamers
 in this silent place
disciplined by the whip
of wrong decisions
 made and witnessed

But in the heart of life
there is Poetry
 for that we survive
we live, and we write

Fire of Insight
United Kingdom 27awards
Joined 15th Sep 2019
Forum Posts: 524


Choosers of the slain

I filled my pockets with our stories
emptied them across your bed,
we waited for the moon to read them.

Morning came to the lake,
a gentle rise and fall of your shores,  
dipped a hand on your dry lips.

Go quietly now, take your army of one
to fall as a warrior in the great hall,
there is much work to be done.

At dusk I'll set the pyre alight,
stumble on his pebbled beach
closed my eyes to the heat.

And so I'll wait for these waters to rise,
to see you again at the end of days,
surely we have battled enough.

Dangerous Mind
United States 18awards
Joined 29th Mar 2017
Forum Posts: 1391


Ode for the Parents Breaking Generational Curses

I often wonder what it means – the fight
to break ancestral violence and find
a way to be the soft and warm, despite
the lingering and foul as rot unkind
ideals that still hold tight to mind and bones.
We swap our hand for natural consequence
and let our children learn to trust. Postpone
the world’s desire to shred their confidence,
and build them up with gentle strength. For foes
will come some other time, some other place,
and I want them to be a force that grows,
that knows their fist does not belong. Their grace,
    their heart, may be mistaken for a flaw,
    but I want truth and love to be their law.

Dangerous Mind
Philippines 11awards
Joined 6th Jan 2019
Forum Posts: 373


Making a Choice

If you want to achieve something
You have to make a choice
Indecision will not get you
To that place you want to be
You have to get out
Of your comfort zone
When you feel comfortable
In one place you will be stuck
In a life of mediocrity
And will not grow fully
You will miss many opportunities
That could develop your potential
To its fullness
Making a choice is not easy
You have to sacrifice something
For the life you want
But I guarantee you
It is worth the sacrifice
Once you live and enjoy
The kind of life
You have always wanted

Lost Thinker
Joined 30th Mar 2024
Forum Posts: 33


oh, brad

You don't usually go to the Atomic Wrangler for the entertainment.
For a particular kind of entertainment, sure, but
Other than that –
The Aces at The Tops,
It definitely was not.

So there we were onstage –
Big Dog and I.

Mentioned once
That he used to play the guitar, long ago –
And after one too
Many drinks and the high
Off of our perpetual Wasteland hijinks –
There we were.

A bit drunk,
A lot silly,
The usual suspects at the Wrangler in a certain mood –
Singing along, swaying –
Big Dog playing the strings expertly, but
I wasn't really surprised.
I knew those fingers well.


A gambler started to sing
As one song ended.
“His name isn't Johnny, fuckin' dumbass!”
A hulking merc yelled, clearly very inebriated,
Raspy voice standing out
From the crowd’s jeers and cheers.

Big Dog looked at me.
I looked at him.
We shrugged and restarted the music.

And it was a glorious chorus –

Of people drunk, sad, mad, horny –
Mad horny (it was still the Atomic Wrangler)
Or just simply happy –
People who made a home of the Wastes.
Good, bad, ugly.

Just like me,
Just like him.

This one
Moment that will glow in
My mind
For a long time like an extra
Irradiated ghoul –
This one time I got extra
Drunk and
Extra emo-
-nal – And
I was there for the words.
And he was there for the melody.

(all together now)


His name is Brad, but okay.

L.C. McQuillen
Thought Provoker
Australia 4awards
Joined 17th Dec 2015
Forum Posts: 62


The Walking Dead

Too many tombs are filled with people
Who were never themselves

Too many illnesses are diagnosed with
Prescriptions that only mask
What truly ailes

Our bodies become graves
Of our lack of understanding

What are to become of the children
That are not taught that
They are their own saviors

Our false perception comes as clouds
That dim the light between us

We are not alive to be consumed again

We are alive to become more than
When we began

Is healing ourselves more terrifying
Than what the world will become
If we do not?

{62 unique words}

Tyrant of Words
United States 66awards
Joined 22nd July 2019
Forum Posts: 203


My Hot Rod

My pink bike
with banana seat
And wicker basket
adorned with
plastic flowers
was the best
mode of
I ever

Wind billowing
through my hair
bell bottomed
right leg secured
by the rubber band
from a news paper
I could pedal
like a demon
around the block

There was
no getting
No aches
and pains
or fanny fatigue

It was all go
from morning
til night
until mom
called me in
for dinner

67 u/w

Dangerous Mind
India 4awards
Joined 9th Mar 2023
Forum Posts: 121



every day there is
a blue evening,
sometimes there
is a yellow evening too
which is not according
to my wish,
but I accept it,
I do not avoid it,
but I do not embrace it either
words get disappear
in the dominance of words,
but without entering
into them the history
can't be understood,
gardener plucks the flowers
from the garden but cannot
steal their fragrance
The thorns prick
body but still the flower
has not stopped blooming
The displeasure on
some faces is not visible
in the mirror,
I wipe away those in
which I do not see my picture,
I let them remain as they are
I never insist someone walking
in my procession...

Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom 20awards
Joined 1st Aug 2021
Forum Posts: 1208


hypolimnion hymn

in homophony:

nip nippily, nippy ninny;
honk honkily, homily hominy.
kink kinkily, kinky kin;
pink pinkly, pinky pin.
loop loopily, loony loon;
moo moonily, moony moon.
jump jumpily, junky junk;
pulp pulpily, punky punk.

in polyphony:

minimum minion, illy illinium
opium opinion, pili pollinium.
oily noily, hoopy hoop;
jollily hollily, loopy loop.
jillion million, pipkin pumpkin
pillion nonillion, limpkin lumpkin;
pokily polypi, plump plummy plum;
minikin minimum, mump mummy mum,


Dangerous Mind
United States 9awards
Joined 24th Sep 2017
Forum Posts: 163


New Growth

Maybe I don’t hate myself anymore…

I used to be consumed
By a deep self-loathing
But I’m learning now
How to be self-forgiving

I used to be burdened
By traumatic memories
But the memories are fading
And being replaced

With notions of fortitude
With newfound grace
Growing in self-love
Growing in strength

No longer disturbed
By tragic past times
I have finally returned
To my rhythm and rhyme

Lord Viddax
Guardian of Shadows
United Kingdom 32awards
Joined 10th Oct 2009
Forum Posts: 6705

#23 of 30

For ye shall have nought to dread upon the waves

She was a behemoth of steel
from her forecastle to the keel
a fighting battleship like no other
born from necessity as mother,
She was
HMS Dreadnought.

Well armed in her vow
and armoured in her bow
she undid two nation's fleet
as all others became obsolete,
She was
HMS Dreadnought.

She changed the face of war
casting opposition to old yore
a revolution upon the sea
heralding a changing decree,
She was
HMS Dreadnought.

(Unique Words: 51)

Thought Provoker
Scotland 6awards
Joined 25th Sep 2019
Forum Posts: 207

23 of 30


Between the waxy glaze of bi coloured leaves,
The darker staves of needles,
Softer buds are breaking closer.
It seems as if,
A mere matter of unmarked minutes,
Till they awake.
Unfurling their velvetine shrouds,
To a burst of lighter hues,
Amongst the evergreens.
Pitching faces skywards
Drawing upon the shifting scenes.
The dancing buzzards,
In instinctual displays,
Higher clouds,
Skimming the surface of days.
Shifting their way,
Giving to the breaking flight of smaller birds,
The secrets of a bough wrought sanctuary.
All the while,
Counseling the turn of life.

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