Poetry competition CLOSED 1st July 2012 7:46pm
WINNER
Diviy (The Illusionist ofSorrow)
Diviy (The Illusionist ofSorrow)
RUNNERS-UP:
siphondarkness
and Dulcea
Poor Perception and First Impressions
Poetry Contest Description
Have you ever been judged by the way you look or speak?
It happens everyday. People get judged for all the wrong reasons. Tell me about a time you've seen or had this done to you. Does NOT have to be a poem, but DOES need to be properly written.
No Slang, or text talk.
And must be in the form of a story or essay if not a poem.
200 hundred words, more or less. Collabs are fine.
Any more questions, send me a PM. :)
No Slang, or text talk.
And must be in the form of a story or essay if not a poem.
200 hundred words, more or less. Collabs are fine.
Any more questions, send me a PM. :)
Misunderstood, Part II
To some I am to tall,
Others I am to fat,
They speak truth intwined with lies,
Of how I could be that,
I look different then you,
Or do you look different then me?
What is this 'normal' that you speak of?
Because 'normal' could never be,
I'll hide behind my imperfections,
Since you keep throwing them in my face,
You will never see the true me,
My soul I will encase,
My hatred will grow stronger,
Eventually I will become you,
I will hurt others the way you hurt me,
I will be born again, anew,
Rage will enclose upon my mind,
Becoming blinded from the truth,
If an eye for an eye makes the world go blind,
Then I am glad we're born with two...
To some I am to tall,
Others I am to fat,
They speak truth intwined with lies,
Of how I could be that,
I look different then you,
Or do you look different then me?
What is this 'normal' that you speak of?
Because 'normal' could never be,
I'll hide behind my imperfections,
Since you keep throwing them in my face,
You will never see the true me,
My soul I will encase,
My hatred will grow stronger,
Eventually I will become you,
I will hurt others the way you hurt me,
I will be born again, anew,
Rage will enclose upon my mind,
Becoming blinded from the truth,
If an eye for an eye makes the world go blind,
Then I am glad we're born with two...
See this pendant 'round my throat?
It must mean I'm a freak!
"Why is it, your clothes are dark?
To the Devil, you must speak."
No! . . .oh, no
You've got it wrong.
The cover spoils not the book.
But still you guess, assume, and judge
based on how I look.
If only you took the chance
to know me.
Interests - diverse and deep.
There's plenty of light and love inside me.
You know not of what you speak!
It must mean I'm a freak!
"Why is it, your clothes are dark?
To the Devil, you must speak."
No! . . .oh, no
You've got it wrong.
The cover spoils not the book.
But still you guess, assume, and judge
based on how I look.
If only you took the chance
to know me.
Interests - diverse and deep.
There's plenty of light and love inside me.
You know not of what you speak!
Logistics Integration Analyst
says the title on my office door
3/4 inch gauges, covered in tattoos
something my CEO had never seen before
Interviewed over the phone
my mind was hired on the spot
my skin shows up for work
received by glares of shock
company performance was 74
and is now at 96
keep on staring you fkn haters
you all can kiss my dick
says the title on my office door
3/4 inch gauges, covered in tattoos
something my CEO had never seen before
Interviewed over the phone
my mind was hired on the spot
my skin shows up for work
received by glares of shock
company performance was 74
and is now at 96
keep on staring you fkn haters
you all can kiss my dick
Can you hear our voices...?
Sitting on a street corner,
Walking down a path.
You see us.
Do you hear us?
Punk boots,
Knee high.
Don’t mind the buckles...
The spikes...
Can you see my eyes?
Stranger?
Can you see my mind?
Fishnets.
Stockings.
I’m not a sl*t...
Black lace and attire...
I’m screaming at you.
You look at me,
But you cant see me.
Devil Child!
Heavy mascara...
Yes I know its overdone.
No, I’m not goth.
I’m not emo.
I have no label.
Please...
Don’t give me one.
Don’t sew a sign
Into my skin...
Don’t judge me
Please... can you hear me?
Sitting on a street corner,
Walking down a path.
You see us.
Do you hear us?
Punk boots,
Knee high.
Don’t mind the buckles...
The spikes...
Can you see my eyes?
Stranger?
Can you see my mind?
Fishnets.
Stockings.
I’m not a sl*t...
Black lace and attire...
I’m screaming at you.
You look at me,
But you cant see me.
Devil Child!
Heavy mascara...
Yes I know its overdone.
No, I’m not goth.
I’m not emo.
I have no label.
Please...
Don’t give me one.
Don’t sew a sign
Into my skin...
Don’t judge me
Please... can you hear me?
Anonymous
THE JOB INTERVIEW FROM HELL
The day started with a phone call
Four in the morning, wanting to fuck me
Not again, tried to get back to sleep
Wasted and worn, drinking coffee
Looking for my pills, TV showing
The latest crash on the 401
Got in the car, drove around it
Got there on time, go to the room
Told to wait, made to ask for key
To bathroom, mascara running
Hair day is worse than bad
Look down, runs in my stocking
Go to the loo, period starting
No tampons, no pads, only toilet paper
Pop some pills so the pain will not come
Finally in room with interrogator
Asks me questions I am doomed to fail
Does not give me a chance to explain
Just like a sergeant he drills me again
And again, my words are stumbling
I feel my stocking ripping
It feels wet underneath
I think I have bled on the chair
The interview is over, he will get in touch
A week later, I do not hear
Phone a friend, who has the dish
Poor girl, she said, you fucked up big
He said you looked terrible, very unprofessional
Your voice was too loud, your resume unreadable
He would never hire you, even if desperate
Which was very ironic as the pay was so low
It would not pay for the gas it took
To commute all that distance
The job interview from hell
Was not the first, will not be the last
My bottle of Jack Daniels will not last.
The day started with a phone call
Four in the morning, wanting to fuck me
Not again, tried to get back to sleep
Wasted and worn, drinking coffee
Looking for my pills, TV showing
The latest crash on the 401
Got in the car, drove around it
Got there on time, go to the room
Told to wait, made to ask for key
To bathroom, mascara running
Hair day is worse than bad
Look down, runs in my stocking
Go to the loo, period starting
No tampons, no pads, only toilet paper
Pop some pills so the pain will not come
Finally in room with interrogator
Asks me questions I am doomed to fail
Does not give me a chance to explain
Just like a sergeant he drills me again
And again, my words are stumbling
I feel my stocking ripping
It feels wet underneath
I think I have bled on the chair
The interview is over, he will get in touch
A week later, I do not hear
Phone a friend, who has the dish
Poor girl, she said, you fucked up big
He said you looked terrible, very unprofessional
Your voice was too loud, your resume unreadable
He would never hire you, even if desperate
Which was very ironic as the pay was so low
It would not pay for the gas it took
To commute all that distance
The job interview from hell
Was not the first, will not be the last
My bottle of Jack Daniels will not last.
I just walk you know
but yet they judge
a simple walk home
but they say I look rough
I always have that glare
don't mess with me
But to all of my town
a punk is what they see
Now for those who know me
they think I had a bad day
But for those who don't
tend to stay away
but yet they judge
a simple walk home
but they say I look rough
I always have that glare
don't mess with me
But to all of my town
a punk is what they see
Now for those who know me
they think I had a bad day
But for those who don't
tend to stay away
