Poetry competition CLOSED 24th February 2012 4:12pm
WINNER
diddi (StephenPaul Summerscales)
diddi (StephenPaul Summerscales)
RUNNER-UP:
Lee
Time Stands Still
Grace said:
1: Poems not more than 200 words
2: Two entries per participant
3: No examples: Just your creativity in story telling through your poems.
Ladies and Gentlemen of DUP: I am extending this invitation to all, to participate in this competition. Please read the story I have posted on top/first page of this site. The rules are as above. Thank you!!
1: Poems not more than 200 words
2: Two entries per participant
3: No examples: Just your creativity in story telling through your poems.
Ladies and Gentlemen of DUP: I am extending this invitation to all, to participate in this competition. Please read the story I have posted on top/first page of this site. The rules are as above. Thank you!!
Last Moment
So silent
Not even
A ticking clock
Nor a sound of hope
The air is still
What now?
Is it over?
Tears rolling
Down her radiant face
A clock
Stood still in time
Leaving him to
Hold his breathe
He wipes off
Her tears
Dripping
Falling
Bursting
Into broken ice
Nothing happens
It's over
Yet they wait
He looks at her
Thinking...
How beautiful a face
A heart of diamonds
Strong and pure
A last embrace
So passionate
A want to
Never
Let go
And finally
It all disappears
Fades away into darkness
Cascading over all
His face is dark
No longer hope
She is lost now
Her eyes are closed
So silent
Not even
A ticking clock
Nor a sound of hope
The air is still
What now?
Is it over?
Tears rolling
Down her radiant face
A clock
Stood still in time
Leaving him to
Hold his breathe
He wipes off
Her tears
Dripping
Falling
Bursting
Into broken ice
Nothing happens
It's over
Yet they wait
He looks at her
Thinking...
How beautiful a face
A heart of diamonds
Strong and pure
A last embrace
So passionate
A want to
Never
Let go
And finally
It all disappears
Fades away into darkness
Cascading over all
His face is dark
No longer hope
She is lost now
Her eyes are closed
Grace said:She stood by the window looking out into the night. She could no longer see anything but the gathering darkness. She had not switched on the light, allowing herself the comfort of darkness’ embrace. She felt the tears flowing down her cheeks but ignored them. What were tears compared to the sharp pain in her chest? She stood there almost all evening and much of the night, like a sentinel; hoping that this little childish act of standing and waiting would make everything come back to what it had always been.
1: Poems not more than 200 words
2: Two entries per participant
3: No examples: Just your creativity in story telling through your poems.
Oh my word.. I seriously did not know I had to write something relating to this...
Yet my poem actually related to it!!! I am not lying, I only read the forum from the second page... until now! lol gosh...
hehe sorry.. I should have read the story first.. my fault
1: Poems not more than 200 words
2: Two entries per participant
3: No examples: Just your creativity in story telling through your poems.
Oh my word.. I seriously did not know I had to write something relating to this...
Yet my poem actually related to it!!! I am not lying, I only read the forum from the second page... until now! lol gosh... hehe sorry.. I should have read the story first.. my fault
- Sister of the Light -
This is who I am…
Young in body, ancient in spirit: sad and lonely.
Outside the window I can hear tree branches…
Scratching as if to remind me of times gone by.
But I have put the past aside, the better to see,
Though, so imperfect are my heart’s defenses!
The light of the moon, comforts from the sky…
Illumination from that light fills my windowpane.
My determined gaze looks out with all my will!
And my tears, I do not allow to fall, as before,
When they pierced my breast in barbs of pain.
Sister of the Light I once was, but the sad chill,
Caused by solitude, brought me to this shore…
Where I stand as a guardian of all I care about.
I dare not leave to chance that I might be hurt!
And so I bring the light to me, with but a song.
I am its’ sister, and my mind is freed of doubt!
Worlds are born in my soul in a creative spurt,
But I cannot create love without going wrong…
So love must come to me, so time may renew.
Let passion, thus ensue…
Will you take my hand?
This is who I am…
Young in body, ancient in spirit: sad and lonely.
Outside the window I can hear tree branches…
Scratching as if to remind me of times gone by.
But I have put the past aside, the better to see,
Though, so imperfect are my heart’s defenses!
The light of the moon, comforts from the sky…
Illumination from that light fills my windowpane.
My determined gaze looks out with all my will!
And my tears, I do not allow to fall, as before,
When they pierced my breast in barbs of pain.
Sister of the Light I once was, but the sad chill,
Caused by solitude, brought me to this shore…
Where I stand as a guardian of all I care about.
I dare not leave to chance that I might be hurt!
And so I bring the light to me, with but a song.
I am its’ sister, and my mind is freed of doubt!
Worlds are born in my soul in a creative spurt,
But I cannot create love without going wrong…
So love must come to me, so time may renew.
Let passion, thus ensue…
Will you take my hand?
Hi Grace, again attracted by this abstract topic close to heart, here's my second entry )
Timeless Beauty
A mere scene had she been reduced....
Scattered traces of stories untold
in bits and pieces hangs around fresh,
shattered remains of bygone intimacy
held in her deep immersed eye’s captivity..
Darkness evokes her melting sketchy outline,
unbroken radium dull glow of apparent pining,
holds inner a widowed silhouette of acute sadness..
A melancholic cacophony she hears to all...
Crashing sounds of orphaned mind’s outcry,
turbulent waves of rupturing thoughts lashing
in those shocked shores of clotted memories,
Spiralling like a hunted stingless wasp, inside her
jetlagged time zones-collapsing now are her
pleading grey cells out of repeated rewinding,
vainly in several tries of freezing those warm times...
She smells like a sea-breeze of saddened saltiness...
Taste buds numbed to forgotten hungriness,
inner small tongue bloated by inhaled loneliness,
Her craving digestive juices haplessly breaks down
her hard-swallowed avalanches of colliding pains ,
Filling in each of her minute pores with crystal loads,
mounds of absorbing tragedies are these pebbled salts ,
Windy blows tells salty tales of laborious longing love…
She stands frozen like a deity of unexplainable agony….
Mummified almost with a sapless body shrivelling fast,
Brittle is she becoming , crumbling to pieces if touched,
Holding her impossibly together is her relentless inner will,
Beating steadfast with an unmatched harmonious rhythm,
Pulling up all her bodily inertia to a lively chrysanthemum,
A miraculous realm of unending hope is her survival theme,
Time bends before her, misses its beat a minute with a beam !
Timeless Beauty
A mere scene had she been reduced....
Scattered traces of stories untold
in bits and pieces hangs around fresh,
shattered remains of bygone intimacy
held in her deep immersed eye’s captivity..
Darkness evokes her melting sketchy outline,
unbroken radium dull glow of apparent pining,
holds inner a widowed silhouette of acute sadness..
A melancholic cacophony she hears to all...
Crashing sounds of orphaned mind’s outcry,
turbulent waves of rupturing thoughts lashing
in those shocked shores of clotted memories,
Spiralling like a hunted stingless wasp, inside her
jetlagged time zones-collapsing now are her
pleading grey cells out of repeated rewinding,
vainly in several tries of freezing those warm times...
She smells like a sea-breeze of saddened saltiness...
Taste buds numbed to forgotten hungriness,
inner small tongue bloated by inhaled loneliness,
Her craving digestive juices haplessly breaks down
her hard-swallowed avalanches of colliding pains ,
Filling in each of her minute pores with crystal loads,
mounds of absorbing tragedies are these pebbled salts ,
Windy blows tells salty tales of laborious longing love…
She stands frozen like a deity of unexplainable agony….
Mummified almost with a sapless body shrivelling fast,
Brittle is she becoming , crumbling to pieces if touched,
Holding her impossibly together is her relentless inner will,
Beating steadfast with an unmatched harmonious rhythm,
Pulling up all her bodily inertia to a lively chrysanthemum,
A miraculous realm of unending hope is her survival theme,
Time bends before her, misses its beat a minute with a beam !
Nails clenching into her palm
She moves to the window
And glares to the moonless night
The fears subside
And tears arrive
For her to gather, or let fall
CHORUS
If I stand here
Long enough they will dry
And the morning will come
Wake me up
From my life
The pain is nothing
But the gain
Of a new
Past time
All hearts heal in time
It’s nothing like the true charm
That she shared
When she knew how to make you feel alive
Yes she was cheerful
But let that one tear fall
You know he couldn’t dry them all
CHORUS
If I stand here
Long enough they will dry
And the morning will come
Wake me up
From my life
The pain is nothing
But the gain
Of a new
Past time
All hearts heal in time
The light switch seems so far away
To my dismay
I put myself in dresses
That didn’t fit me
And as I wait I’m not waiting for you
I’m waiting to forget
This pain trudged in my chest
Who knows how long
Until then I must let
The tears dissipate
Not a poem a song, pretty sure it doesn't count, but I don't mind, just wanted to share it before I fade to sleep. Night everyone.
She moves to the window
And glares to the moonless night
The fears subside
And tears arrive
For her to gather, or let fall
CHORUS
If I stand here
Long enough they will dry
And the morning will come
Wake me up
From my life
The pain is nothing
But the gain
Of a new
Past time
All hearts heal in time
It’s nothing like the true charm
That she shared
When she knew how to make you feel alive
Yes she was cheerful
But let that one tear fall
You know he couldn’t dry them all
CHORUS
If I stand here
Long enough they will dry
And the morning will come
Wake me up
From my life
The pain is nothing
But the gain
Of a new
Past time
All hearts heal in time
The light switch seems so far away
To my dismay
I put myself in dresses
That didn’t fit me
And as I wait I’m not waiting for you
I’m waiting to forget
This pain trudged in my chest
Who knows how long
Until then I must let
The tears dissipate
Not a poem a song, pretty sure it doesn't count, but I don't mind, just wanted to share it before I fade to sleep. Night everyone.
Anonymous
Curtains
She never again wound up your clock.
It lay dormant on the cracked tiles
of the fire place,
like an inappropriately placed loaf
going stale
in the stagnant, blue air.
It's as if the winding key
would unlock her memories.
The certain metallic hands
tunnelling clockwise into a universe
in which you no longer existed.
Where time progressed without you,
slowly and comatose.
She dusted it from time to time
and would wax over distantly
to the kitchen,
putting too much sugar in my tea
and imagining you coming home
to mashed potatoes and a
sweet simple smile
In which she'd move her lips
and ask you about your day
and you would recite heartily about the pay,
the humanity,
the distinctive pain
in the bridge of your foot.
She would run a hot bath for you
to ease the strain.
And i'd find her sitting,
staring at the frosted window pane,
quietly whispering alone.
He's not coming home.
He's not ever coming home.
She never again wound up your clock.
It lay dormant on the cracked tiles
of the fire place,
like an inappropriately placed loaf
going stale
in the stagnant, blue air.
It's as if the winding key
would unlock her memories.
The certain metallic hands
tunnelling clockwise into a universe
in which you no longer existed.
Where time progressed without you,
slowly and comatose.
She dusted it from time to time
and would wax over distantly
to the kitchen,
putting too much sugar in my tea
and imagining you coming home
to mashed potatoes and a
sweet simple smile
In which she'd move her lips
and ask you about your day
and you would recite heartily about the pay,
the humanity,
the distinctive pain
in the bridge of your foot.
She would run a hot bath for you
to ease the strain.
And i'd find her sitting,
staring at the frosted window pane,
quietly whispering alone.
He's not coming home.
He's not ever coming home.
Anonymous
The Weeping Of An Hour Glass.
And it began.
The slow dripping of seaside grains
that piled beneath you
like lost memories
on the floor of my mind
And you were unkind enough
to taunt me with moments
lost in the wind,
recklessly removing each second
like a purse full of copper coins.
How I loved your parallel glass shape
and would watch with envy
of your perfect curves,
and you would make me sick with words
as my ideal slipped away.
Years later, I returned to the beach
in which my grains of sand had lay
effortlessly and undisturbed
for centuries
in dormant, dune laden array.
The cliffs were eroding,
peeling back and glowing
with the white salt veil of the sea,
which called out with ancient vengeance
like a dangerous siren song.
The ocean was my hour glass,
clawing the sand from the shore
inch by inch, and I tried to claim what once was mine,
but realised there was no gathering
of the ghosts of lost time.
And it began.
The slow dripping of seaside grains
that piled beneath you
like lost memories
on the floor of my mind
And you were unkind enough
to taunt me with moments
lost in the wind,
recklessly removing each second
like a purse full of copper coins.
How I loved your parallel glass shape
and would watch with envy
of your perfect curves,
and you would make me sick with words
as my ideal slipped away.
Years later, I returned to the beach
in which my grains of sand had lay
effortlessly and undisturbed
for centuries
in dormant, dune laden array.
The cliffs were eroding,
peeling back and glowing
with the white salt veil of the sea,
which called out with ancient vengeance
like a dangerous siren song.
The ocean was my hour glass,
clawing the sand from the shore
inch by inch, and I tried to claim what once was mine,
but realised there was no gathering
of the ghosts of lost time.
