Poetry competition CLOSED 9th March 2012 00:57am
WINNER
Page_Writer (Mad Girl)
Page_Writer (Mad Girl)
RUNNER-UP:
ImperfectedStone
The After Life
candles out the darkness creeps up upon me this night
I am waiting to see the light in this long drowning night
It come to me with a grace that even a predator would shy away from
A hand comes out beckoning to me to touch it
The shelter I made is almost alive as it tries to protect me from this creature of darkness
There are too many noises as I close my eyes and try to sleep the night away
Too many things groping at my shelter to be at ease in this night
Enough of the darkness is here that my room seems to even be wanting them to go away and let us sleep a deep sleep.
A light in the hall way comes on as a child gets afraid of the noises and it will stay on all night
It beams even from under the door hitting a crack that was there since the beginning and making a border that they cannot cross
Only watch from
They growl and yell at me to turn it off.
Without their touches I am able to drift into a welcomed sleep as my savior is also asleep by now
I am waiting to see the light in this long drowning night
It come to me with a grace that even a predator would shy away from
A hand comes out beckoning to me to touch it
The shelter I made is almost alive as it tries to protect me from this creature of darkness
There are too many noises as I close my eyes and try to sleep the night away
Too many things groping at my shelter to be at ease in this night
Enough of the darkness is here that my room seems to even be wanting them to go away and let us sleep a deep sleep.
A light in the hall way comes on as a child gets afraid of the noises and it will stay on all night
It beams even from under the door hitting a crack that was there since the beginning and making a border that they cannot cross
Only watch from
They growl and yell at me to turn it off.
Without their touches I am able to drift into a welcomed sleep as my savior is also asleep by now
AlexnEmoLand said:darK
the powerful sound of the clock striking 12
posted dolls on dusty shelves
eye of newt and the sound of rain
death will slay whats not in pain
mind the crowd of whats not real
suddenly scared by what you feel
shocked by crows
and manicone pose,you will be surprised by what yee chose
by the first cock crow
the dark must go
back to hell till the next show
-Kumiko Yamamoto
This is a great piece kumi girl :)
the powerful sound of the clock striking 12
posted dolls on dusty shelves
eye of newt and the sound of rain
death will slay whats not in pain
mind the crowd of whats not real
suddenly scared by what you feel
shocked by crows
and manicone pose,you will be surprised by what yee chose
by the first cock crow
the dark must go
back to hell till the next show
-Kumiko Yamamoto
This is a great piece kumi girl :)
MidnightXDawn said:candles out the darkness creeps up upon me this night
I am waiting to see the light in this long drowning night
It come to me with a grace that even a predator would shy away from
A hand comes out beckoning to me to touch it
The shelter I made is almost alive as it tries to protect me from this creature of darkness
There are too many noises as I close my eyes and try to sleep the night away
Too many things groping at my shelter to be at ease in this night
Enough of the darkness is here that my room seems to even be wanting them to go away and let us sleep a deep sleep.
A light in the hall way comes on as a child gets afraid of the noises and it will stay on all night
It beams even from under the door hitting a crack that was there since the beginning and making a border that they cannot cross
Only watch from
They growl and yell at me to turn it off.
Without their touches I am able to drift into a welcomed sleep as my savior is also asleep by now
pretty profound stuff indeed MD
I am waiting to see the light in this long drowning night
It come to me with a grace that even a predator would shy away from
A hand comes out beckoning to me to touch it
The shelter I made is almost alive as it tries to protect me from this creature of darkness
There are too many noises as I close my eyes and try to sleep the night away
Too many things groping at my shelter to be at ease in this night
Enough of the darkness is here that my room seems to even be wanting them to go away and let us sleep a deep sleep.
A light in the hall way comes on as a child gets afraid of the noises and it will stay on all night
It beams even from under the door hitting a crack that was there since the beginning and making a border that they cannot cross
Only watch from
They growl and yell at me to turn it off.
Without their touches I am able to drift into a welcomed sleep as my savior is also asleep by now
pretty profound stuff indeed MD
Heaven and Hell (A Short Story)
The world around Lace wavered like a living patchwork of shadows in the wind. She knew she was dead though this death felt like a dream. The one comfort she held was that she could still feel Turner’s hand, warm and tangible, in hers, though he too was dead. Turning her face towards him, she looked into his deep blue eyes and he smiled.
‘Am I dreaming?’ Turner asked her, without moving his lips, his dark melancholy voice reaching inside Lace’s mind.
‘Maybe’ she smiled back at him wryly. If he didn’t know they were dead, she didn’t want to be the one to tell him. Death was not what she had expected. If he wanted to believe it was a dream she would let him.
‘I’d do anything for you’ Turner’s voice whispered darkly in her head.
‘Would you die for me?’ Lace asked, her own mental voice barely above a whisper.
‘Always’ Turner replied with a smile that only she got to see.
‘You always said you’d go to hell for the company’ Lace laughed back.
‘It’s always hell with you’ he smiled cheekily, his mental voice sarcastic. Lace faked a pout and stuck out her tongue at him.
She couldn’t tell him that he had already died for her. The reasons didn’t matter now. What was done was done. She wouldn’t say the words that would make it more real than it already was. Turner had followed her into hell on Earth and she had let him. Now they were both dead because of her choice.
Floating in the twilight of death with Turner, this un-life felt more real than life ever had. As they lay suspended in the in between Lace felt like every memory of her life that was, bled away, the only thing unfading from her consciousness: Turner, his fingers entwined in hers.
The cinereous twilight of the in-between swirled and without warning they began to fall towards an unknown place. Lace screamed and clutched Turners hand tightly as they rushed through a kaleidoscope of shadows. Her spirit was high with anticipation, her only fear, that of losing Turner in the infinite world of this unknown.
The journey through the gray was both endless and over too soon. The haze gave way to cloudy blue skies, lush green grass and an extravagant gothic castle.
The ground loomed up at them; Lace was not afraid. It wasn’t possible to die in death.
Without warning she slammed into something hard, yet she felt no pain. It was… a broomstick. She definitely hadn’t expected that. Lace lay down on the handle and laughed, looking up to see Turner equally surprised and howling in laughter. He gained control of himself before she did, and kicked the bristles of her broom before he sped off into the sky. Still laughing, Lace chased after him.
For a while time lost all meaning as they soared through the air, chasing and taunting each other, somersaulting and attempting tricks that defied all gravity. Others joined in the fray and in the excitement Lace forgot all about life and death and dreams. There was nothing more beautiful than this moment.
What a wonderful illusion, Lace thought to herself half way through a trick, and suddenly her hands slipped from the handle of the broom and she began to fall towards the grass below. She hit the ground with a thud that jarred yet didn’t hurt at all. Sitting up she smacked her head against something unseen and feeling around herself she realised she was trapped within a bubble.
She lashed out at the invisible shield with her hands and feet, to no avail; it never once trembled in response to her efforts. After a while Lace resentfully gave up and lay down on the soft grass. Staring up at the sky she tried not to cry. What the hell happened?
It wasn’t long before someone appeared in the bubble beside Lace, startling her and she smacked her head again, this time on the side of the bubble. Beside her was a tiny man in a blue jumpsuit, his face hidden by a helmet. Lace wondered if dead people could hallucinate.
The tiny man stood, hands on his hips and spoke, answering her unspoken question about what had happened before she could open her mouth; ‘You leaned the truth’ he said flatly, without any emotion and as he turned away from her, they ‘shifted’ and the soft grass beneath her was replaced with rougher grass. Sitting up Lace stared at the new world she had ‘magically’ appeared in. She was sitting in a grassy square surrounded by a group of grim looking people. Beyond them was what looked like a pristine medieval village. It looked…wrong.
‘Welcome to Heaven’ a disgruntled looking girl mumbled beside her, picking at the blades of grass at her biker boot clad feet. Lace watched as the grass the girl picked disintegrated in her fingers and re-grew itself on the ground in front of her. It was unnatural.
‘How do we get back?’ Lace asked the girl, staring at her like she held all the answers.
‘We don’t’ the girl replied bitterly and giving up on the grass slumped against a tree that hadn’t been there a moment ago. The girl didn’t seem to notice.
Looking up Lace could still see the dreamers racing around the sky, lost in a world beautiful beyond words. A twinge of self loathing tugged at Lace, Why did I have to be so damn perceptive? She thought to no one in particular.
If this place was heaven she would rather be in hell. As she stared up at the sky, she realised that Turner probably wouldn’t be joining her in this hellish heaven anytime soon. He had most likely forgotten about her in all the excitement of the illusion. If she was honest with herself she had to admit that she had forgotten about him in the ecstasy of the moment. She had let him believe the dream, the lie, and she wished, too late, that she had believed in it too.
The truth doesn’t set you free, she mused, a tear running down her cheek. As the tear dripped from her face and hit the ground it changed into a small blue teddy bear. Startled, Lace stopped crying for a moment to laugh, and picked up the bear, hugging it to her chest. It reminded her of Turner, its fur the same deep blue of his eyes. It was bittersweet. Why did she get to be stuck here with the un-illusioned, while Turner got to fly?
Hell for the company, heaven for the comfort, Turner had always said. If Lace could choose, she would pick hell over and over again. The only comfort in this … place, was the bear in her arms. It wasn’t enough, but it was better than nothing. She would need it. She had all of eternity to wait for Turner to find her again. For all she knew, it could take that long.
The world around Lace wavered like a living patchwork of shadows in the wind. She knew she was dead though this death felt like a dream. The one comfort she held was that she could still feel Turner’s hand, warm and tangible, in hers, though he too was dead. Turning her face towards him, she looked into his deep blue eyes and he smiled.
‘Am I dreaming?’ Turner asked her, without moving his lips, his dark melancholy voice reaching inside Lace’s mind.
‘Maybe’ she smiled back at him wryly. If he didn’t know they were dead, she didn’t want to be the one to tell him. Death was not what she had expected. If he wanted to believe it was a dream she would let him.
‘I’d do anything for you’ Turner’s voice whispered darkly in her head.
‘Would you die for me?’ Lace asked, her own mental voice barely above a whisper.
‘Always’ Turner replied with a smile that only she got to see.
‘You always said you’d go to hell for the company’ Lace laughed back.
‘It’s always hell with you’ he smiled cheekily, his mental voice sarcastic. Lace faked a pout and stuck out her tongue at him.
She couldn’t tell him that he had already died for her. The reasons didn’t matter now. What was done was done. She wouldn’t say the words that would make it more real than it already was. Turner had followed her into hell on Earth and she had let him. Now they were both dead because of her choice.
Floating in the twilight of death with Turner, this un-life felt more real than life ever had. As they lay suspended in the in between Lace felt like every memory of her life that was, bled away, the only thing unfading from her consciousness: Turner, his fingers entwined in hers.
The cinereous twilight of the in-between swirled and without warning they began to fall towards an unknown place. Lace screamed and clutched Turners hand tightly as they rushed through a kaleidoscope of shadows. Her spirit was high with anticipation, her only fear, that of losing Turner in the infinite world of this unknown.
The journey through the gray was both endless and over too soon. The haze gave way to cloudy blue skies, lush green grass and an extravagant gothic castle.
The ground loomed up at them; Lace was not afraid. It wasn’t possible to die in death.
Without warning she slammed into something hard, yet she felt no pain. It was… a broomstick. She definitely hadn’t expected that. Lace lay down on the handle and laughed, looking up to see Turner equally surprised and howling in laughter. He gained control of himself before she did, and kicked the bristles of her broom before he sped off into the sky. Still laughing, Lace chased after him.
For a while time lost all meaning as they soared through the air, chasing and taunting each other, somersaulting and attempting tricks that defied all gravity. Others joined in the fray and in the excitement Lace forgot all about life and death and dreams. There was nothing more beautiful than this moment.
What a wonderful illusion, Lace thought to herself half way through a trick, and suddenly her hands slipped from the handle of the broom and she began to fall towards the grass below. She hit the ground with a thud that jarred yet didn’t hurt at all. Sitting up she smacked her head against something unseen and feeling around herself she realised she was trapped within a bubble.
She lashed out at the invisible shield with her hands and feet, to no avail; it never once trembled in response to her efforts. After a while Lace resentfully gave up and lay down on the soft grass. Staring up at the sky she tried not to cry. What the hell happened?
It wasn’t long before someone appeared in the bubble beside Lace, startling her and she smacked her head again, this time on the side of the bubble. Beside her was a tiny man in a blue jumpsuit, his face hidden by a helmet. Lace wondered if dead people could hallucinate.
The tiny man stood, hands on his hips and spoke, answering her unspoken question about what had happened before she could open her mouth; ‘You leaned the truth’ he said flatly, without any emotion and as he turned away from her, they ‘shifted’ and the soft grass beneath her was replaced with rougher grass. Sitting up Lace stared at the new world she had ‘magically’ appeared in. She was sitting in a grassy square surrounded by a group of grim looking people. Beyond them was what looked like a pristine medieval village. It looked…wrong.
‘Welcome to Heaven’ a disgruntled looking girl mumbled beside her, picking at the blades of grass at her biker boot clad feet. Lace watched as the grass the girl picked disintegrated in her fingers and re-grew itself on the ground in front of her. It was unnatural.
‘How do we get back?’ Lace asked the girl, staring at her like she held all the answers.
‘We don’t’ the girl replied bitterly and giving up on the grass slumped against a tree that hadn’t been there a moment ago. The girl didn’t seem to notice.
Looking up Lace could still see the dreamers racing around the sky, lost in a world beautiful beyond words. A twinge of self loathing tugged at Lace, Why did I have to be so damn perceptive? She thought to no one in particular.
If this place was heaven she would rather be in hell. As she stared up at the sky, she realised that Turner probably wouldn’t be joining her in this hellish heaven anytime soon. He had most likely forgotten about her in all the excitement of the illusion. If she was honest with herself she had to admit that she had forgotten about him in the ecstasy of the moment. She had let him believe the dream, the lie, and she wished, too late, that she had believed in it too.
The truth doesn’t set you free, she mused, a tear running down her cheek. As the tear dripped from her face and hit the ground it changed into a small blue teddy bear. Startled, Lace stopped crying for a moment to laugh, and picked up the bear, hugging it to her chest. It reminded her of Turner, its fur the same deep blue of his eyes. It was bittersweet. Why did she get to be stuck here with the un-illusioned, while Turner got to fly?
Hell for the company, heaven for the comfort, Turner had always said. If Lace could choose, she would pick hell over and over again. The only comfort in this … place, was the bear in her arms. It wasn’t enough, but it was better than nothing. She would need it. She had all of eternity to wait for Turner to find her again. For all she knew, it could take that long.
Soldiers of monotony.
Vacant eyes,
drifting feet trudge,
and never tire,
the roads I think or
perhaps the pathways.
I believe I once remember...
An eternal shade
stretches along the plains
where we walk.
We walk.
We walk.
We-
We-
We-
I can't remember.
Vacant eyes,
drifting feet trudge,
and never tire,
the roads I think or
perhaps the pathways.
I believe I once remember...
An eternal shade
stretches along the plains
where we walk.
We walk.
We walk.
We-
We-
We-
I can't remember.
