Poetry competition CLOSED 12th June 2012 11:55pm
WINNER
SmilesandPretenses (Trevin Michael)
SmilesandPretenses (Trevin Michael)
RUNNERS-UP:
Indie
and kriticool
That's my society
Poetry Contest Description
A viewpoint or idea about modern society or even past societies, just a reaction to what's happened or happening in the world.
Recently read loads of poems based on people's views of society and find them hugely interesting, especially the cynical ones- although it'd be nice to see a change to that, if it exists.
Just a couple of rules-
Only 2 entries per person.
Please no commenting on poems in the thread as it all gets jumbled then!
It doesn't matter if the poem's old or new either- all welcome!
Just a couple of rules-
Only 2 entries per person.
Please no commenting on poems in the thread as it all gets jumbled then!
It doesn't matter if the poem's old or new either- all welcome!
Anonymous
Society
Sex to repopulate the planet
Objectively trying to make the world a better place
Citizens attempting to get their views heard by politicians
Irate countries at war with one another
Emptiness amongst the poor; longing for more
Technology coming to the forefront
Year after year, adding to history
Sex to repopulate the planet
Objectively trying to make the world a better place
Citizens attempting to get their views heard by politicians
Irate countries at war with one another
Emptiness amongst the poor; longing for more
Technology coming to the forefront
Year after year, adding to history
f e e d b a c k
She sits across in the room on a custom made Durian sofa
with burnished tiger print
her three diamond pendants shine softly
in the dim riot
She
-thrusts herself once
-toys with her silken curls
-snaps her manicured fingers
-puckers her glossy lips
-takes out the small mirror
that reads DKNY in black
She
daubs-brightens-highlights
mascara-lycra-extra-ultra
She
-shifts her weight
-pulls her top and shakes
-pretends pretending to
read Women's era-
Probably bored beyond return she crosses her leg again-
checks her Tablet and goes on to stare in my direction
cause every other table is occupied and there is a couple
everywhere else
The whole place looks like a rotten-god-forsaken scam
from behind my dark glasses
I must not have blinked in five minutes cause she starts
to form a halo-steams up and I close my eyes finally as
two warm drops of tear fill in ancient billabongs-
succumbing to gravity and in that moment I want to
write a love poem
but it wont come to me which is just bad-almost a cliche
the waiter brings my bill and hands me a tissue paper
which says-in-translucent-bright-pink-the-words-in-caps-
f a g g o t-may be maybelline.
She sits across in the room on a custom made Durian sofa
with burnished tiger print
her three diamond pendants shine softly
in the dim riot
She
-thrusts herself once
-toys with her silken curls
-snaps her manicured fingers
-puckers her glossy lips
-takes out the small mirror
that reads DKNY in black
She
daubs-brightens-highlights
mascara-lycra-extra-ultra
She
-shifts her weight
-pulls her top and shakes
-pretends pretending to
read Women's era-
Probably bored beyond return she crosses her leg again-
checks her Tablet and goes on to stare in my direction
cause every other table is occupied and there is a couple
everywhere else
The whole place looks like a rotten-god-forsaken scam
from behind my dark glasses
I must not have blinked in five minutes cause she starts
to form a halo-steams up and I close my eyes finally as
two warm drops of tear fill in ancient billabongs-
succumbing to gravity and in that moment I want to
write a love poem
but it wont come to me which is just bad-almost a cliche
the waiter brings my bill and hands me a tissue paper
which says-in-translucent-bright-pink-the-words-in-caps-
f a g g o t-may be maybelline.
Nightmare on Alm Street
As the pariah dog
of unknown pedigree
limps down at the end
of the deserted road and
the half eaten moon emerges
from it's hiding of sailing-saturnine
clouds under the beautiful abode of the
little boy's beautiful god in the smudged sky
the cardboard city materializes like a photograph
slow the edges sharpen-the squalor silenced to a stupor
the desolate heaps of yesterdays’ urban waste stare-crawl-
reach-itch at you like a lower-extremity arterial skin ulcer on
a cold night and the stench assaults you like a frenzied piece of
senseless sub-urban folklore-only if you could tell the difference
a skeletal baby whimpers-intermittent-its head mocking at the body-
malnourished- worm-infested-diseased, with an artsy protruding ribcage-
countable-like an intricate tapestry of dark brown skin over hollowed bones
and the mother stares in darkness and soft grudge, her brazen eyes averting
your gaze-whatever it takes-that could be any of these-curiosity, pity, empathy,
revulsion, indifference, actualization, blank, existential ennui or search for meaning.
probably as a warm drop of tear runs down the cheeks, getting up she pulls the rug that
serves as a door or a cover-from the light, eyes, reach of the world-down with an alacrity
that makes you want to compose the next status update on facebook, but then something
else takes over and you move on to the next train of thought or rather afterthought-may be
something set in the middle ground as unmindful you walk along-elated at your day's success-
1. Your next street art exhibition 2. Possible mention in the gallery for the monochrome series
3. Number of ‘Likes’ and ‘Comments’ and the surrounding continuum of awe for future-
All of a sudden a momentary afterthought arrests the fluid flow with the
starkness, darkness your eyes encountered thru out the day and tackle-
immediate block of a defense mechanism-a phoenix rises and tells
‘accolades come with a price, so often which is an excess.’
A voice-a noise-the ADULT within your psyche-rationale
A lady-may be her, may be not* what are the odds?-
screams in the distance with muffled voices diluting
the overall drama as you rev your car, filling the air
with blaring pop music and the rubber screeches
along tar leaving symmetric pneumatic trails
(full stop.)
As the pariah dog
of unknown pedigree
limps down at the end
of the deserted road and
the half eaten moon emerges
from it's hiding of sailing-saturnine
clouds under the beautiful abode of the
little boy's beautiful god in the smudged sky
the cardboard city materializes like a photograph
slow the edges sharpen-the squalor silenced to a stupor
the desolate heaps of yesterdays’ urban waste stare-crawl-
reach-itch at you like a lower-extremity arterial skin ulcer on
a cold night and the stench assaults you like a frenzied piece of
senseless sub-urban folklore-only if you could tell the difference
a skeletal baby whimpers-intermittent-its head mocking at the body-
malnourished- worm-infested-diseased, with an artsy protruding ribcage-
countable-like an intricate tapestry of dark brown skin over hollowed bones
and the mother stares in darkness and soft grudge, her brazen eyes averting
your gaze-whatever it takes-that could be any of these-curiosity, pity, empathy,
revulsion, indifference, actualization, blank, existential ennui or search for meaning.
probably as a warm drop of tear runs down the cheeks, getting up she pulls the rug that
serves as a door or a cover-from the light, eyes, reach of the world-down with an alacrity
that makes you want to compose the next status update on facebook, but then something
else takes over and you move on to the next train of thought or rather afterthought-may be
something set in the middle ground as unmindful you walk along-elated at your day's success-
1. Your next street art exhibition 2. Possible mention in the gallery for the monochrome series
3. Number of ‘Likes’ and ‘Comments’ and the surrounding continuum of awe for future-
All of a sudden a momentary afterthought arrests the fluid flow with the
starkness, darkness your eyes encountered thru out the day and tackle-
immediate block of a defense mechanism-a phoenix rises and tells
‘accolades come with a price, so often which is an excess.’
A voice-a noise-the ADULT within your psyche-rationale
A lady-may be her, may be not* what are the odds?-
screams in the distance with muffled voices diluting
the overall drama as you rev your car, filling the air
with blaring pop music and the rubber screeches
along tar leaving symmetric pneumatic trails
(full stop.)
Metro
Carcases rush to cities
They hide from the sun in dreams of architects,
then play gods with the masses.
They in turn wander aimlessly like lost souls,
trying to make sense of the chaos created by the skies.
Just a building, a shell, underneath an inner strength;
powered by machines and spewing red tape.
The tape winds its way around the neck of the metro
and cuts off its air supply and continues to grow.
Thus blocking out the sun.
To bring on the evil of the night.
Carcases rush to cities
They hide from the sun in dreams of architects,
then play gods with the masses.
They in turn wander aimlessly like lost souls,
trying to make sense of the chaos created by the skies.
Just a building, a shell, underneath an inner strength;
powered by machines and spewing red tape.
The tape winds its way around the neck of the metro
and cuts off its air supply and continues to grow.
Thus blocking out the sun.
To bring on the evil of the night.
I Don’t (On the institution of marriage)
I never really understood why I’d need a piece of paper
To document my love like it’s proof that married love is greater
Than the love two people share without one financial blow out of a day
Swapping names and sharing assets, the merging of two identities to one
Ceasing to be individual entities, now bound by contractual obligations
And as it turns out, I’m not entitled to such a legal “binding” of love anyway
When the government and church class me as a lesser being
Like we’re living in a much earlier century, where prejudice could be cloaked
In religion and ignorance, hate propaganda filling minds that homosexuality is a sickness
Though it’s no business of the state if two consenting adults
Of the same gender happen to fall in love
And I’ve never wanted to give myself away like I’m paying my way into slavery
My partner flashing me around as though I’m a fashion accessory going “OMG… meet my wife”
When I loathe to feel like a possession in the arsenal of societal clauses
That states that I need to be just like everyone else… whoever everyone else might happen to be
Though there is no guarantee that contractual love will last forever anyway. So contracts
And financial debts be damned, I believe in love, though not in the trend of papering it
And signing away my life to another person, when true love should be free
I never really understood why I’d need a piece of paper
To document my love like it’s proof that married love is greater
Than the love two people share without one financial blow out of a day
Swapping names and sharing assets, the merging of two identities to one
Ceasing to be individual entities, now bound by contractual obligations
And as it turns out, I’m not entitled to such a legal “binding” of love anyway
When the government and church class me as a lesser being
Like we’re living in a much earlier century, where prejudice could be cloaked
In religion and ignorance, hate propaganda filling minds that homosexuality is a sickness
Though it’s no business of the state if two consenting adults
Of the same gender happen to fall in love
And I’ve never wanted to give myself away like I’m paying my way into slavery
My partner flashing me around as though I’m a fashion accessory going “OMG… meet my wife”
When I loathe to feel like a possession in the arsenal of societal clauses
That states that I need to be just like everyone else… whoever everyone else might happen to be
Though there is no guarantee that contractual love will last forever anyway. So contracts
And financial debts be damned, I believe in love, though not in the trend of papering it
And signing away my life to another person, when true love should be free
They are profoundly mental:
The believers of gods,
the right wingers
and the left.
Those in search of a reputable career.
The racists,
the homophobes.
the gays and the blacks.
The so-called leaders of this world.
The followers of the monarchy,
the drivers of cars,
the adrenaline junkies,
the coke fiends,
and the alcoholics.
The happily married,
the monophobic love hunters
and the speed daters.
Those who raise their country's flag
and those who burn the flags of other countries.
The ranters and the ravers,
the pet owners,
the pregnant,
the football followers,
the hooligans,
the inbred and their breeders,
the prostitutes,
the mothers and fathers.
The depressed,
the therapists,
the barmen,
the rapists,
the psychopaths,
the thieves,
the nursery school teachers
and me.
The believers of gods,
the right wingers
and the left.
Those in search of a reputable career.
The racists,
the homophobes.
the gays and the blacks.
The so-called leaders of this world.
The followers of the monarchy,
the drivers of cars,
the adrenaline junkies,
the coke fiends,
and the alcoholics.
The happily married,
the monophobic love hunters
and the speed daters.
Those who raise their country's flag
and those who burn the flags of other countries.
The ranters and the ravers,
the pet owners,
the pregnant,
the football followers,
the hooligans,
the inbred and their breeders,
the prostitutes,
the mothers and fathers.
The depressed,
the therapists,
the barmen,
the rapists,
the psychopaths,
the thieves,
the nursery school teachers
and me.
My society
Darkness before dawn
There is impending storm
The fisherman whispers
To his sleeping wife
Bye my love
See you later
High waves
Storm
The sound of screams
The silent mourns
A kiss a hug
a wave
the truck driver
looks back at his family
and drive off
to a wage ever meagre
thinking mortgage
Fire
All perish
His screaming sobs
Politician
Smiles, kiss babies
Promises the mountain
Garden of Eden
Votes casted
He rests
Counting his kick-backs
Sunshine-y villages
All forgotten.
Darkness before dawn
There is impending storm
The fisherman whispers
To his sleeping wife
Bye my love
See you later
High waves
Storm
The sound of screams
The silent mourns
A kiss a hug
a wave
the truck driver
looks back at his family
and drive off
to a wage ever meagre
thinking mortgage
Fire
All perish
His screaming sobs
Politician
Smiles, kiss babies
Promises the mountain
Garden of Eden
Votes casted
He rests
Counting his kick-backs
Sunshine-y villages
All forgotten.
No Awa Tae Bide Awa ( A collaboration with Mikimoondancer )
We are surrounded by zombies
they may be walking and talking
some seemingly even evolving
around escape .
Staggered in mis-haps
each day they lack some make-up
a one percent
is so not them
a life of rigid in some hell .
Seemingly mistaken
altogether un-shaken
un-levelled , revealing
emptiness black voids
where souls did exist .
Societies mass production
new mice a much induction
a drone a day
does pass my way
ignorance in suction
humanities reduction
eyes to see
see nothing .
We are surrounded by zombies
they may be walking and talking
some seemingly even evolving
around escape .
Staggered in mis-haps
each day they lack some make-up
a one percent
is so not them
a life of rigid in some hell .
Seemingly mistaken
altogether un-shaken
un-levelled , revealing
emptiness black voids
where souls did exist .
Societies mass production
new mice a much induction
a drone a day
does pass my way
ignorance in suction
humanities reduction
eyes to see
see nothing .
Boy Uninterrupted
Eyes watching my every move
Like everyday I have something to prove
In search of finding my very own groove
Unfortunately the road isn't quite so smooth
The life I live isn't really the safest
I constantly have to deal with homophobes and racists
A gay minority but that's my choice
The freedom to be me it gets me real moist
So plump, juicy, and filled with pride
Too bad society can't see the contents inside
I try to be as transparent as possible
But it seems like understanding me is an obstacle
It isn't that hard just give it a try
Simply because I refuse to live a lie
Why should I have to? Who died and made you God?
Who gave you the authority to label what's odd?
Make me an outcast like I'm some kind of curse
Being called Nigger or Faggot I don't know what's worse
But it isn't what I'm called it's what I answer to
I'm not defined by society's point of view
The concrete jungle and I'm young fresh meat
I may be sweet but I'm nobody's treat
I'm young, black, gay, and poor
On the front lines of society's war
Eyes watching my every move
Like everyday I have something to prove
In search of finding my very own groove
Unfortunately the road isn't quite so smooth
The life I live isn't really the safest
I constantly have to deal with homophobes and racists
A gay minority but that's my choice
The freedom to be me it gets me real moist
So plump, juicy, and filled with pride
Too bad society can't see the contents inside
I try to be as transparent as possible
But it seems like understanding me is an obstacle
It isn't that hard just give it a try
Simply because I refuse to live a lie
Why should I have to? Who died and made you God?
Who gave you the authority to label what's odd?
Make me an outcast like I'm some kind of curse
Being called Nigger or Faggot I don't know what's worse
But it isn't what I'm called it's what I answer to
I'm not defined by society's point of view
The concrete jungle and I'm young fresh meat
I may be sweet but I'm nobody's treat
I'm young, black, gay, and poor
On the front lines of society's war
Beware the five card trickster!
Here comes Moses? with a fist full of scented roses and a mouth
full of spoken poses to put you at your ease,eager to please the
foul and crooked mind concealed behind the fake smile and steely
eyes that strip your clothes off in an instant.
It's a game of two hands
dealt within a less than exclusive smokey room
He lets loose a wide grin "let the games begin" he speaks in husked tones
his breath a mix of heavy malt and tobacco smoke
inhaled deep within the very lungs he'll use to blow a screen
when the cards go down
you'll see your hand and smile "a royal flush " will take the pot more times than not
so you'll stake it all, you'll stack it up and make the call to see his hand
but no matter how the cards were dealt, no matter what you think you've won
no one beats the five card trickster
when he throws his cards down on the table you'll begin to understand
the calculated cold deception that'll come
before the grave reception when you leave
with no thing at all
Here comes Moses? with a fist full of scented roses and a mouth
full of spoken poses to put you at your ease,eager to please the
foul and crooked mind concealed behind the fake smile and steely
eyes that strip your clothes off in an instant.
It's a game of two hands
dealt within a less than exclusive smokey room
He lets loose a wide grin "let the games begin" he speaks in husked tones
his breath a mix of heavy malt and tobacco smoke
inhaled deep within the very lungs he'll use to blow a screen
when the cards go down
you'll see your hand and smile "a royal flush " will take the pot more times than not
so you'll stake it all, you'll stack it up and make the call to see his hand
but no matter how the cards were dealt, no matter what you think you've won
no one beats the five card trickster
when he throws his cards down on the table you'll begin to understand
the calculated cold deception that'll come
before the grave reception when you leave
with no thing at all
