Poetry competition CLOSED 7th February 2012 6:25pm
WINNER
ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
View Profile Poems by ImperfectedStone
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RUNNERS-UP: Kou_Indigo and raorrick

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Past. Present. Future.

poet Anonymous

Poetry Contest

Write a piece in three parts, on the topics of where you were, where you are, and where you want to be.
Write a poem in three parts on the themes of where you were, where you are, and where you would like to be.

* Poem can be any length a long as it's in three parts.
* Must be a new write
* No collabs.
* Approach this however you like, as long as you stick to the theme somehow.
* You have two weeks.


That's the only criteria.

Good luck!

Grace
IDryad
Tyrant of Words
122awards
Joined 25th Aug 2011
Forum Posts: 16075

Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

[b]
part 1
[/b]

My yesterdays,
Like bouquets of dried roses
Tied with yellow ribbons
Placed in a vase of dazzling colours
In the centre of my room
Of memories

The hopes are there
Now browned and dead
The whispers of wishes
Are faded and cracked
The desires are dried
Falling to pieces

Part 2

My todays
Are like parchments
Opened on the desks
In my mind’s eye
A quill with an ink well
So ready with words

Determination in calligraphies
Of bold strokes
My spirit like hieroglyphics
Squiggled through the page
My needs, wants, desire
Written in sad poetries

part 3

My tomorrows
are like a flight through Maya
A goal focused
Yet subject to change
Beauty Known
But may convulse to transform

Hope for the best
Be ready for the worst
Hope for affection
Be ready for none
Hope for progress
Be ready for regress

Yesterday, today, tomorrow
Are as we make it
The sadness and the sorrows
The joy and elations
They are not ours to keep
They are what we borrow
To leave as we leave this existence

diddi
StephenPaul Summerscales
Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom 42awards
Joined 18th Dec 2009
Forum Posts: 1701

Then

I was back then
a paused
still frame ,
what used to be
is what we are
that will be seen ,
I back when ,
could never be
myself
again ,
youth has gone
times they change
they move along .


Now

All
you see
is the Paul
from which you read ,
I am always me
no scams
I don't deceive ,
I am a proud Dad
and yes
I've done things bad ,
perfect , ok no
but respect for you I'll show .
I do all I can
and the past
is not this man ,
and what I am
is just because
of the then
I ran from once .


To Be

What is to be
I just can't see ,
all I ask is
try to believe ,
in the future
where I hope there's me
amidst all cultures
across all seas .

Kou_Indigo
Kara L. Pythiana-Ashton
Tyrant of Words
United States 68awards
Joined 15th Sep 2011
Forum Posts: 2784

- Three Lives, One Soul -

Part I – Paradise Lost (The Past)

When the dawn of time was still fresh in the memory,
Of gods, and angels; those who were yet not fallen…
I, in exile dwelt, in a loneliness craving love’s divinity.
But in this I grew jealous, and my pride was swollen!
War in the heavens, betwixt kindred long sundered…
The deaths of worlds, and the rebuilding of old ways,
Paradise rising from perdition, as powers thundered!
All humbled in the end before the first terrestrial days.
Oh where had gone my dream of love, amidst flame?
I was blinded by arrogance, trapped in my own web,
Forced to become mortal, to know death and shame.
Cast adrift by the fates, upon tides that flow and ebb!
The fall of old civilizations, and the rise of the nations,
All spread before me, and amongst it I was a-swim…
Living and loving, only to lose the reason for elations!
How many lifetimes had I lived and would live again?

Part II – Paradise Interrupted (The Present)

Born in the flesh of man, a woman in soul and nature,
This was I, in the hour of my birth into this very age!
Judged by the faith of my family, and made insecure,
Until my heart was heavy and my mind full of rage…
Trained, drained, by those in power who controlled.
I broke away, and by an angel was shown secrets…
And, for a time, I felt my spirit reborn and consoled.
I walked in darkness, then in light, without regrets…
Leaving the past behind me, embracing the feminine.
I became as I am now, though I am so much more,
Than what others see and anything they can imagine.
Once, I was a shy boy, and then a wanton whore…
But I am so much more: a lady, angel, and goddess.
Now I seek love, and to forget the pains long past,
And so I here share my soul, and my heart, confess.
Even thus, you cannot know the torments that last!

Part III – Paradise Regained (The Future)

What can there be, for one already called damned?
Kindred of light and darkness; wanton and weary…
Yet so: unable to rest as I obey an older command.
I must dance amidst the fires, until all grows bleary!
Like Shiva, like Kali, my dance shall be beautiful…
And in passion I will be consumed, with this world.
Beyond the final days, into a paradise so bountiful,
That is where love takes a lover into arms whirled!
I know not who shall love me, only that she shall…
For the man I was, for the woman I am and will be.
Gone is the angel who rebelled and then thus fell…
I wear a new face and form, for all mankind to see.
The fires humble me, and yet cannot take my light!
I am still a goddess, and the woman I am is eternal.
Love me in the darkness; be welcome in the night!
If Heaven rejects me, I must embrace the infernal.

raorrick
Rachel O.
Dangerous Mind
United States 14awards
Joined 17th Nov 2011
Forum Posts: 1590

Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

Yesterday
I breathed your intoxicating desire
 caressed your inflaming intensity
 tasted your awakened demand
 absorbed your passionate yearn
 witnessed your stimulating euphoria
 
Yesterday
We were one soul
in two bodies.

Today
I breathe your piercing anguish
 caress your persecuting turmoil
 taste your suffocating heartache
 absorb your punishing nightmare
 witness your agonizing plague

Today
We are one soul
on two realms.

Tomorrow
I will breathe my unforgiving devotion
       caress my grasping grief
       taste my starving tears
       absorb my sorrowful shock
       witness my violent daze

Tomorrow
I will join you, and
we will be whole again.

Whispered_Words
DRooney
Twisted Dreamer
United States 3awards
Joined 27th Jan 2011
Forum Posts: 18

"The Phrophecy of One D. Rooney"

The Legend - Part One

There's a thick salt in this air,
Tastes like sea and sand.
Wind gusts at the end where rocks meet blue,
Turned around and saw a few figures in the fog.
Handfuls of rocks were thrown mercilessly towards her body,
Though, like Grendel, they did not hurt her.
The stones bounced off and clattered to the ground,
Tell her when you want to say that face to face.

Branches quiver like abused children under a desk,
Leaves falling into fire and dusks with no ending.
There's some kind of dip in the land they ran across,
They tumbled like turtles in the current.
Boots crunched against dirt as she took steps against them,
Guess she didn't know that was her first mistake.
No one meant for her to fall into their gravity,
Warm whispers dragged her under weeping trees like spoiled milk.

Pain like fire booms her head of the words they spoke so loud,
Fragmented pieces of this tough exterior now cracking.
Bold outlines around her skin like scales and dragon teeth,
Claws of gold and black dust they think will gouge them open.
Wide eyes they glance down at the jagged knees coming towards,
A game of knights and horses with chess pieces made of metal.
Screams of rage, a beast erupts with fangs like glass bits,
Never give way to the notion of 'love'--it'll kill you.

The Happening - Part Two

Clumps of debris shoot out of the cave in her chest,
They stared wide eyed and went over things to calm her down.
Little flies made of rotting flowers buzzed out around her,
Waves crumbled against her feet and flooded the land.
Signs of self-destruction are just a trap to make you cry,
A winding hand of time turning over another fat minute.
The sky churns a dimly grey color with a breath of words,
Unheard against the wind and sky their cries go mute.

Soothing the beast only makes her eyes grow brighter,
Bubbling black oil of distain through lips formed as smiles.
Building up and up until the peak is too high to see,
Only to have an axe blade hack at the base sending cracks up her.
Bombs made of glass bust against the rocking frame,
Layers of metal strip away to reveal fabric worn by little girls.
Green embers of shining light shake beneath her worn eyes,
Slain and thin bones trip down to the ground where they gasp.

Their breathing kept the air moving about,
The waves and rumbling had silenced when the great woman fell.
The strong willed body seemed small and pale now,
She shook against the jagged rocks naked, crying softly.
Clear shades of sweat dripped down the spine of a daughter,
Bones curving down around the rest of herself so she could hide.
They looked on at the almost new born girl with sympathy,
Her eyes of green water shook at them before hiding away under her hair--not a woman, just a child.

The Fantasy - Part Three

One of the younger men made his way steadily against the current,
Heavily she yanked away like the snake they all knew her to be.
The skin that draped the girl’s bones became infested with black smoke,
Churning against his fingers like angry wasps and he was busting the nest.
The man jolted back steps by steps as he stared at the broken girl,
Hissing like an overheated steaming tea pot through her teeth.
He smiled and looped his arms around the waist of her frame,
Though she fought he wouldn't let go, breathing against her cheek.

Though they didn't know each other fire blastered between them,
His hands cupped her fighting body as she glared with tears.
Black oozed out of her tearducts but he brushed it all away,
He talked softly and slowly with thick curls falling in his face.
"Please, leave me alone, don't touch me" she clips her voice with sneer,
"But I cannot, not now or ever" at that she cries and he smiles.
"Why?" the world clouded with red and pink like petals of flowers,
And he smiled with love, "I love you".

Words she hadn't heard ever,
Words a soldier would never think to speak,
Words that mean the world.

ImperfectedStone
The Gardener
Tyrant of Words
United Kingdom 28awards
Joined 10th Oct 2010
Forum Posts: 1347

Back then we were washed, in school,
with the idea cheap flings were poisonous
and that a ring around my finger
defined purity and good grace.

I tend to like the taste
of a man's pre-nurtured plan
on the tip of my tongue, droplet
of sin. It's a mask and a face for the unashamed.

Somewhere between a rock and a hard place
on a day like today. I'd stand on the ledge and dare to fall
or fly for a new kick; between the sex and sniffing and scarification,
the Heaven I could kneel for.

KrisOmari
Prince Kris
Lost Thinker
United States
Joined 25th Jan 2012
Forum Posts: 24

The Pauper, The Poet, and The Prince

The Pauper:
Once upon a time there was a pauper,
Who was born with nada,
Yet he still never toppled.
He came from the gutter,
And everyone he met, was his judger.
They looked down on him,
Til he was hooked up with some friends.
And they taught him to cultivate,
His talent to create.
And he did.

The Poet:
The poet in him grew,
As people learned his name.
But only a select few,
Helped him achieve fame.
And he thanks them for everything they gave,
But especially for helping him resist the urge to cave.
They told him, "Push harder, get stronger, know better!"
And he did, and his heart only became redder.
And now everyone looks up to him,
And only the jealous frown on him,
But he still doesn't look down on them.

The Prince:
Now our hero has riches,
And he gives others wishes.
Because he knows how it feels,
To be real,
But perceived as fake.
And now his model, his make,
Is so noble,
I guess nobody saw it before though.
Now HE is the one on top.
Now HE will refuse to stop.
Now HE helps with the poor,
Now HE can benefit the world.
So always remember,
That the people who are most distanced,
Say paupers never prosper,
In the Land of Princes.

Copyright-K.O.I.

Ariadne_Diamond
Ariadne
Strange Creature
United Kingdom 1awards
Joined 30th Jan 2012
Forum Posts: 3

Time in this Universe

Part One: "What Was. . . "

What was I when the world was at peace, the innocence of childhood blooming in the palms of my hands. What was I when the world was whole, when everything was simple and there were no monsters to worry about ripping my body apart, no evil demonic beasts waiting to destroy my mind. What was the world like when I was a child, what was it like when nothing bad seemed to exist in my small mind. Until darkness clouded my eyes, until death took hold of my life and nothing lived but death. Nothing was there expect what was never meant to be. And I, I still existed. . .

Part Two: "What is. . ."

What is the world now? A vast tunnel of emptiness, and I exist alone-- A mere whisper in this cave of my own solitude. I am all that there is left of the life that I once knew, I am the only thing that exists from my past. The past that I will never look to again, the past that was taken from me by time and darkness. God? What God? There is no God in the land of death. My mother died and my father was murdered, I live alone now. What does that say for the world that is. . .
What is life without the people that gave it to you?

Part Three: "What Will Be. . ."

What will be?
I cannot say.
I do not know.
What lies in the future,
though it is the only thing
that I have left.
I am alone.
I shall live forever alone.
I was--
I am--
I will be--

No one.
Nothing.

I shall be
forever
in my
heart,
mind,
soul,
& body. . .

Alone.

Ariadne_Diamond
Ariadne
Strange Creature
United Kingdom 1awards
Joined 30th Jan 2012
Forum Posts: 3

I'm sorry, this post shouldn't exist but the website accidentally published my poem twice. Sorry.

poet Anonymous

KrisOmari said:The Pauper, The Poet, and The Prince

The Pauper:
Once upon a time there was a pauper,
Who was born with nada,
Yet he still never toppled.
He came from the gutter,
And everyone he met, was his judger.
They looked down on him,
Til he was hooked up with some friends.
And they taught him to cultivate,
His talent to create.
And he did.

The Poet:
The poet in him grew,
As people learned his name.
But only a select few,
Helped him achieve fame.
And he thanks them for everything they gave,
But especially for helping him resist the urge to cave.
They told him, "Push harder, get stronger, know better!"
And he did, and his heart only became redder.
And now everyone looks up to him,
And only the jealous frown on him,
But he still doesn't look down on them.

The Prince:
Now our hero has riches,
And he gives others wishes.
Because he knows how it feels,
To be real,
But perceived as fake.
And now his model, his make,
Is so noble,
I guess nobody saw it before though.
Now HE is the one on top.
Now HE will refuse to stop.
Now HE helps with the poor,
Now HE can benefit the world.
So always remember,
That the people who are most distanced,
Say paupers never prosper,
In the Land of Princes.

Copyright-K.O.I.


well done good job

dustyjjewels
Fire of Insight
Nigeria 15awards
Joined 24th Nov 2011
Forum Posts: 241

Yesterday was the shame
I brought you so much pain
Left you with the strain
And everything about us was a game


Today I've mended my ways
And no matter what they say
I'll be ur wizard,you'll be my witch
Cos finally I've seen the light and made a switch


Tomorrow we'll make a home
Never again shall we be alone
Companions forever,happiness and love
I'll be the king
You'll be the queen of my world

KrisOmari
Prince Kris
Lost Thinker
United States
Joined 25th Jan 2012
Forum Posts: 24

Thank you :)I I appreciate it :)

Astyanax
Ceejay
Fire of Insight
United Kingdom 9awards
Joined 23rd Feb 2010
Forum Posts: 748

The Journey

In the beginning all is new,  
Our lives are filled with first events:  
The first snow, the first summer,  
The first maternal smile of boundless love.  
As we grow up, we see the start of things around us:  
A road built, a new hotel or store,  
A clever new device to enhance our lives,  
Which skip along, bright with novelty and innovation:  
New feelings, new success, and then: first love.  
 
But, cruelly, we start to see the ends of things:  
Love fades, our bright ambitions come to nought,  
What we saw built, we now see brought to dust.  
Our parents grow enfeebled, pass away,  
And then mortality taps us on the shoulder -  
A friend dies.  

So what to do? Take refuge in despair?  
Pursue the dress, the speech, the styles of youth  
In hopeless, sad and foolish self-deceit?  
No - look around, enjoy the time you have,  
And revel in the things you’ve seen along the way;  
Accept your age, it too is part of life.

Whitewand6
Dangerous Mind
India 16awards
Joined 1st Nov 2011
Forum Posts: 2251

kal-aaj aur kal

1.

The first time we had met after hundreds of phone calls
and online messaging-she looked quite unwell-to say
the least but her stark vulnerability really got me
Her eyes scorched me-one inch a time till I had
tears in my own and she had to order some
food as the waiters were staring with
a sadistic grin that still affects me
She carefully removed my shirt
once we were inside her car
and asked me to lie down
then she slept on my
chest for an hour
while it rained
outside and I started
to feel cold-colder-more
when she woke up-dreamy eyed
she had a lingering smile-she spat
out a strand of hair from her mouth
and licked slowly across my goose bumps
giggling like a slum-Cinderella in  a photograph
She wanted me to fuck her but I told her
that fuck is a powerful word and that's
not something I would ever intend-
so she asked if I would rather
love her then and started
sobbing-slow-muffled
there was a pattern
to it-beautiful-
unreal and
strange and
we hugged and
cried realizing love
was a much stronger word.


2.

We are married for three years now
The first year was quite quite long and
the second even longer and the third is quite
a prolonged-beautiful rape of everything each
one of us once was-believed or could have been
I am still the same-protective-afraid-powerless
I still struggle with my writing-listen to Choplin
and Mahler and watch Tom and Jerry often
I still save the last drop of piss for my
trousers and I still try and I still cry-
often for reasons a little vague for
me-may be due to the tears
I am still verbose-morose-
lachrymose-still myself
She has not changed
a lot herself over the years
She still blames me for the ruin
She screams-scores-steals
She hits-hurts-hides-holds
She looks me in the eye
and lies only to laugh
and at other times
she looks down
or goes to
the other room-
click-thud-bang
She still swears and
then starts to sob-
shaking-shaken-falling
I hold back the small balls
of choke that form one after
another like flimsy bubbles on
the backyard and embrace her
and she clings to me with her might
but she slips away-the great marital drift
Eventually she falls asleep and I stay with her
till I don't feel my legs or arms or anything at all
She throws up every time I feed and then starts
laughing-delirious-distant till tears roll down
her cheeks that dry within moments
We sit across-resting our heads
on our knees and listen to LPs
mostly Nick Drake-for hours
and her eyes stop moving
Help-Fuck-Die are the only
three words which have become
the dearest things to her and those
were things indeed we once used to do
not in that sequence-of course but these
days after all these years-two to be precise-
I guess I really can not fully be positive of that
the sequence I mean-what was what then.

3.

I met my ex-lover tonight-rather ex-wife
she is now a wife-a mother-seemingly happy
She wore an expensive evening dress with artsy
shoes and played with her straightened hair-got tipsy
and then as I went to drop her at her friend's she sobbed
and hugged me-her fingers dug in my white shirt and then
they were wet with blood-cold-watery as she stood inches away
and struggled to let go-cry she could not and we just stood there until
her phone rang-it was her son he wanted her to come and finish the story
in which the girl opens her window and closes her eyes-pause-
She sent him kisses and ended the call-pause-
She slapped me hard blinding me-leaving me there stunned-hot-stinging-alone
and
I knew how the story had ended-the girl stays up-she does not come down-she
stands there-looking down at the boy and then she
just shuts the window and goes to sleep while
the boy waits till street dogs surround him
he cries all the way back home-in large sobs
that has crests and troughs-like the notes
of Gorecki's 3 rd symphony and in the end
they would be there within him-for days-
weeks-months-years
that slap was not
the answer-but it was better than
indifference-pained
silence-nothing
And the boy does that
for weeks until the girl
comes down one night
with just a pouch and
they leave that world
for another-which they
create brick by brick-
drop by drop
and then
the totem turns
out to be a lie and
the world crumbles
majestic in its innate despair
gigantic in its scope and range-

pause-I started walking towards
the Taxi stand thinking if not having
hurt anyone one makes a better world
I mean how good is that and how true
is that for I hurt and get hurt and hurt
some more and in the end we
all get hurt and I have had
friends in my life who
walked back in the
penumbra towards
the darkness
as I watched
them and
then there was
none-only shimmering
footsteps which refused to
succumb to the wear and tear
for they were cemented by time like
a walk of fame-for hurt-and then I have had
seven hundred or so friends on facebook and
counting-they all say nice things to me and
write nice things to me and think well of
me and some of them were hurt and
some even hurt me but they all
believe that this is a better
world so which one is
true or rather which one
is relatively truer

I got inside the
taxi and waited
for the driver
to get in but
he finished
his drag
of death
pelted a
stone and
made a skinny dog
yelp and dash for his life
with a non functional leg
while Johnie Cash started it
a mild burning still there-circling
I smiled again-my scar of happiness
trapped in the future- figuring where it
all went w r o n g- so v e r y   w r o n g.









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