Poetry competition CLOSED 2nd June 2012 4:14am
WINNER
Sublime
Sublime
RUNNER-UP:
freddwzz
Superstition
somelikeithot said:What happened...this competition was finished and the names of the winners and the honorable mentions were up this morning when I logged on. I was not the winner, nor the honorable mention......This sounds funny ...to declare a winner and then retract it....I guess most of us above are not meritorious enough.....or can you give another explanation....???????
This competition doesn't end until the 2nd of June. It's a two week competition. I don't know what error happened in DUP on your end, but it has nothing to do with me or this comp. I haven't chosen a winner or the runners-up yet. I'll make a choice closer to the competition ending time.
This competition doesn't end until the 2nd of June. It's a two week competition. I don't know what error happened in DUP on your end, but it has nothing to do with me or this comp. I haven't chosen a winner or the runners-up yet. I'll make a choice closer to the competition ending time.
Dreams & Visions
For me...
I see in my dreams
what the future holds
or what the following day will bring
symbols of all kinds
are always there
I read between the lines
of things my anscestors share
From rain to spilling water
In dreams I see these things
and when I arise in the morning
I know what these things mean.
Or visions when Im awake
I see what isnt seen
So I listen to my inner self
to know exactly what things mean
I even have De Ja Vu
which tells me whats instore
Its really just my spirit
letting me know where my
spirit has been before.
For me...
I see in my dreams
what the future holds
or what the following day will bring
symbols of all kinds
are always there
I read between the lines
of things my anscestors share
From rain to spilling water
In dreams I see these things
and when I arise in the morning
I know what these things mean.
Or visions when Im awake
I see what isnt seen
So I listen to my inner self
to know exactly what things mean
I even have De Ja Vu
which tells me whats instore
Its really just my spirit
letting me know where my
spirit has been before.
I Listen
Fluffy white clouds in a cobalt sky
A warm summer gust gooseflesh my skin
The majestic stillness of an age oak tree
A shadow of a bird crossing over head
a barking of a dog in the distance
mixed with the playful banter of children
Seeing the silent march of ants
A fly buzzing by my ear
The sway of roses in the garden, their scent piercing the zephyr
Watching the soft drifting of summer snow
A squirrel climbing a tree
Listening to the mating call of crickets in the grass
The chirping of birds lingering in the wind
The gentle rocking of my hammock
In the stillness of a peaceful day
Is when my Spirit speaks the loudest
And I Listen
Fluffy white clouds in a cobalt sky
A warm summer gust gooseflesh my skin
The majestic stillness of an age oak tree
A shadow of a bird crossing over head
a barking of a dog in the distance
mixed with the playful banter of children
Seeing the silent march of ants
A fly buzzing by my ear
The sway of roses in the garden, their scent piercing the zephyr
Watching the soft drifting of summer snow
A squirrel climbing a tree
Listening to the mating call of crickets in the grass
The chirping of birds lingering in the wind
The gentle rocking of my hammock
In the stillness of a peaceful day
Is when my Spirit speaks the loudest
And I Listen
Intent of a Black Cat
If ever
I was a black cat
I would mess with your mind
I'd meander the alleyways
with a melancholy glare
and an icy surreptitious stare
I'd swirl the senses
with your superstitions
and my sinister stealth
You would be increasingly paranoid
over the fate of your health
Oh yes
as a black cat
I would dare
to unfurl your emotions
and ensnare
your darkest despair
With just my black coat
and penetrating pupils
I watch with pleasure
as you come undone
and purrrrr
If ever
I was a black cat
I would mess with your mind
I'd meander the alleyways
with a melancholy glare
and an icy surreptitious stare
I'd swirl the senses
with your superstitions
and my sinister stealth
You would be increasingly paranoid
over the fate of your health
Oh yes
as a black cat
I would dare
to unfurl your emotions
and ensnare
your darkest despair
With just my black coat
and penetrating pupils
I watch with pleasure
as you come undone
and purrrrr
Over the Edge
From the minute
I extinguish the little
electrical lamp over my bed
and delve into darkness
the fear begins.
It is a little game
my mind plays with me
constricting it's puppet,
my body,
to the confines of a
narrow mattress.
Should a limb creep over the edge
and I shall be doomed.
Will I be sucked into an
infinite bend of darkness?
Or will a hand, much colder
and paler than mine, reach
from the dark underbelly
of my sleeping place
and encircle my own straying hand,
dragging me under to join it?
So when my room is dark
and all I can see is the
space where my curtain and window part,
bearing a strip of the night sky,
black but not quite so as the
black of my room,
I challenge my mind's game.
Slowly creeping a hand,
fingers by palm by wrist,
or a foot,
toes by arch by ankle,
off the side of my bed,
my limb hangs tauntingly
above the sinister aphotic
pit beside my bed.
I leave it there for a second,
now two, three, can I go for four?
Before superstition
overrides my boldness
and like a turtle's head
shooting into it's shell
the part of me hanging over the edge
darts back onto the bed
and I am safe.
From the minute
I extinguish the little
electrical lamp over my bed
and delve into darkness
the fear begins.
It is a little game
my mind plays with me
constricting it's puppet,
my body,
to the confines of a
narrow mattress.
Should a limb creep over the edge
and I shall be doomed.
Will I be sucked into an
infinite bend of darkness?
Or will a hand, much colder
and paler than mine, reach
from the dark underbelly
of my sleeping place
and encircle my own straying hand,
dragging me under to join it?
So when my room is dark
and all I can see is the
space where my curtain and window part,
bearing a strip of the night sky,
black but not quite so as the
black of my room,
I challenge my mind's game.
Slowly creeping a hand,
fingers by palm by wrist,
or a foot,
toes by arch by ankle,
off the side of my bed,
my limb hangs tauntingly
above the sinister aphotic
pit beside my bed.
I leave it there for a second,
now two, three, can I go for four?
Before superstition
overrides my boldness
and like a turtle's head
shooting into it's shell
the part of me hanging over the edge
darts back onto the bed
and I am safe.
