Poetry competition CLOSED 3rd October 2012 5:25pm
WINNER
Myheartdiesforyou (Mysa)
Myheartdiesforyou (Mysa)
RUNNERS-UP:
rayheinrich
and marielavoue
Incinuations
Poetry Contest Description
I want you to create a poem with multiple meanings...
Only rule is two poems per person max.
Basically have a bit of fun with the concept of a poem suggesting something to one person and also being able to suggest something entirely different to annother... leave all ends creatively untied.
Any subject you like, obviously, as it will differ to each person,
Good Luck!
Basically have a bit of fun with the concept of a poem suggesting something to one person and also being able to suggest something entirely different to annother... leave all ends creatively untied.
Any subject you like, obviously, as it will differ to each person,
Good Luck!
This is quite probably the most surreal poem I have ever written. It is likely that no two people may read in it the same meanings! Here is the link to it... I call it "Demiurges of Reality"
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/29528-demiurges-of-reality/
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/29528-demiurges-of-reality/
- Immortality's Fruit -
Wherefore, has man named himself as good or ill,
When fleeting are all given names of his contriving?
Unto which lofty estate, could be his fleeting aim...
When vast is the universe, and it is cold and chill,
Larger than the reach of man, with all his striving!
Not all his actions, can free him from sin's domain.
In fiery climax, like the nova of suns exploding fast,
So unto perdition goes the nobility only imagined...
To cold death is lost the mistake of classes created.
Not a savior can restore one, from what cannot last,
And in the end, what can be kept of what is gained!
Only that which is eternal, and not lost on the dead.
But why must the dead alone accept eternal things,
When the living soul is immortal, beyond even kings?
Life is not without fault, and oft we are merely cogs,
Pieces of the machine that cannot be easily beheld.
Naught can be exact even in order's masterful plan!
Let him step forth who would not just stack the logs,
The fuel that feeds the flames of creation that meld.
Let any step forth, who would not become damned!
When order becomes sterile and too insane to bear,
Then must man embody chaos, and in its' name dare.
Lest pointless become the path that leads to glory...
When too great grow the burdens of horrible worry.
None can be sated who has not appetites to enjoy...
So do grant those, lease: that are pleasing like a toy!
Allowing order to but gently keep us from far excess,
We can accomplish more, and achieve great success.
Lest in brute foolishness one may sink too far deep,
Let every soul content itself so that it may be happy.
Only in contentment can paradise be enjoyed as full,
As when we free ourselves of tedium that may creep.
So great can be pleasure if we let it increase blessedly,
Allowing each day to bring new joys, never being dull!
Pleasure brings peace, and in peace is pleasure kept,
Made perfect by the desire of all who will it to endure.
Noble is such inner fire, and away it cannot be swept,
Like passing waves are swept upon the sandy shore.
Does not every element find in mankind a dear home,
Beyond the ken of senses felt of mere flesh and bone?
Why then do we limit ourself to one sense or element,
When they are all here to guide us past the firmament!
Life has not one form, not one substance, nor an end.
Rather, to exist is to be one part of a greater whole...
Each part is its' own universe, each mind may so bend,
The nature of it's own reality, the meaning of its' role.
Every will holds the power to make afresh what is true!
Just as once did a great spirit clad itself in emerald hue,
Radiant with mad passions, desire its' compass arrow.
More glorious than the sun, this spirit came on hither...
The light of the dawn was in her body's very marrow,
As in swift descent she came to make a garden wither.
For when Eden became a prison to man, who did toil...
In the name of vain gods, who sought to enslave all,
It was she who kindled the flame that in us does boil,
Allowing us to become free, either to ascend or to fall.
She dispelled the lie that death alone was man's fate,
By offering humanity the fruit that proved us immortal.
How long in savagery was man to linger, and to wait,
Before learning that only mere flesh is what is mortal!
Man does not die when embracing knowledge so vast,
And so who told the lie, in that bygone era of the past?
Rather, man's spirit knows no bounds, and not a curse,
But blessings more profound even than a golden purse.
The spice of joy, she did mix with the juice of that fruit,
And of that wine we all sip, when we weary of sadness.
Pleasure is the reward, when joy is the honest pursuit,
Unto which desire leads us, freeing us from all madness.
Breathing into us the wind of eternal life that we exhale,
Creating with such wonder, all art that grows not stale.
And so a sterile universe bursts into life and much color,
When we paint upon the canvas of reality with all vigor.
Letting desire awaken in us a love for all so beautiful...
That it cannot be denied, we are perfected as a result.
No creator ever fashioned so perfect a sublime model,
Whereby in joy, we may obtain salvation without guilt.
Wherefore, has man named himself as good or ill,
When fleeting are all given names of his contriving?
Unto which lofty estate, could be his fleeting aim...
When vast is the universe, and it is cold and chill,
Larger than the reach of man, with all his striving!
Not all his actions, can free him from sin's domain.
In fiery climax, like the nova of suns exploding fast,
So unto perdition goes the nobility only imagined...
To cold death is lost the mistake of classes created.
Not a savior can restore one, from what cannot last,
And in the end, what can be kept of what is gained!
Only that which is eternal, and not lost on the dead.
But why must the dead alone accept eternal things,
When the living soul is immortal, beyond even kings?
Life is not without fault, and oft we are merely cogs,
Pieces of the machine that cannot be easily beheld.
Naught can be exact even in order's masterful plan!
Let him step forth who would not just stack the logs,
The fuel that feeds the flames of creation that meld.
Let any step forth, who would not become damned!
When order becomes sterile and too insane to bear,
Then must man embody chaos, and in its' name dare.
Lest pointless become the path that leads to glory...
When too great grow the burdens of horrible worry.
None can be sated who has not appetites to enjoy...
So do grant those, lease: that are pleasing like a toy!
Allowing order to but gently keep us from far excess,
We can accomplish more, and achieve great success.
Lest in brute foolishness one may sink too far deep,
Let every soul content itself so that it may be happy.
Only in contentment can paradise be enjoyed as full,
As when we free ourselves of tedium that may creep.
So great can be pleasure if we let it increase blessedly,
Allowing each day to bring new joys, never being dull!
Pleasure brings peace, and in peace is pleasure kept,
Made perfect by the desire of all who will it to endure.
Noble is such inner fire, and away it cannot be swept,
Like passing waves are swept upon the sandy shore.
Does not every element find in mankind a dear home,
Beyond the ken of senses felt of mere flesh and bone?
Why then do we limit ourself to one sense or element,
When they are all here to guide us past the firmament!
Life has not one form, not one substance, nor an end.
Rather, to exist is to be one part of a greater whole...
Each part is its' own universe, each mind may so bend,
The nature of it's own reality, the meaning of its' role.
Every will holds the power to make afresh what is true!
Just as once did a great spirit clad itself in emerald hue,
Radiant with mad passions, desire its' compass arrow.
More glorious than the sun, this spirit came on hither...
The light of the dawn was in her body's very marrow,
As in swift descent she came to make a garden wither.
For when Eden became a prison to man, who did toil...
In the name of vain gods, who sought to enslave all,
It was she who kindled the flame that in us does boil,
Allowing us to become free, either to ascend or to fall.
She dispelled the lie that death alone was man's fate,
By offering humanity the fruit that proved us immortal.
How long in savagery was man to linger, and to wait,
Before learning that only mere flesh is what is mortal!
Man does not die when embracing knowledge so vast,
And so who told the lie, in that bygone era of the past?
Rather, man's spirit knows no bounds, and not a curse,
But blessings more profound even than a golden purse.
The spice of joy, she did mix with the juice of that fruit,
And of that wine we all sip, when we weary of sadness.
Pleasure is the reward, when joy is the honest pursuit,
Unto which desire leads us, freeing us from all madness.
Breathing into us the wind of eternal life that we exhale,
Creating with such wonder, all art that grows not stale.
And so a sterile universe bursts into life and much color,
When we paint upon the canvas of reality with all vigor.
Letting desire awaken in us a love for all so beautiful...
That it cannot be denied, we are perfected as a result.
No creator ever fashioned so perfect a sublime model,
Whereby in joy, we may obtain salvation without guilt.
http://0.tqn.com/d/scuba/1/0/E/3/-/-/RedGilledOnKelp.jpg
Nudibranch
I would argue
that shockingly
pretty as it is
it is still
a sea slug
And then
I would decide
it is
a fine life
for a contented creature
eating
gliding
mating
laying eggs
being pretty
a fine life
Nudibranch
I would argue
that shockingly
pretty as it is
it is still
a sea slug
And then
I would decide
it is
a fine life
for a contented creature
eating
gliding
mating
laying eggs
being pretty
a fine life
Once upon a time...it was Someone alongside Anyone with something to say. The sayings, their sayings would come and go. They'd brighten or darken. To the onlookers they'd harken. Someone's would be complete; Anyone's came more discreet; coming in soft whispers. However always incomplete; Anyone's would leave the onlookers to wonder.
Whereas Someone's came in broad strokes. A painting of boisterous pictures. Trumpeting portraits of Anyone's shyness...the entire story told. Bold, with nothing left out. An exposure of Anyone's composure. Someone would just laugh...loudly.
Anyone proudly would get fed up; although keeping it low key. Waiting. Someone wasn't with that.. the waiting. Saying almost at the level of screaming.. that would not do. Moreso loud than proud; that's the way Someone spoke. It's also the way that Someone would often color a joke. This Anyone knew and knowingly smiled at Someone's sayings. No longer irritated, now listening to the sayings yet not hearing as they'd come & go.
Someone & Anyone...both conflicted, both were envious & jealous, adoring & boring, bashful & soaring. Both saying very little that Someone, Anyone could really understand. Really not taking the time for one to understand. The coming & going of their sayings ::this once upon a time.
There will be blood
no,I don't want to
learn to sink
with more grace
I have standards
and remember this!
we all have blood
some of us might
keep it in a balloon
but the rest of us
have to carry it
around like a trophy
no,I don't want to
learn to sink
with more grace
I have standards
and remember this!
we all have blood
some of us might
keep it in a balloon
but the rest of us
have to carry it
around like a trophy
Insinuations
"Insinuations never even give a chance
Instead of the facts
You believe in what was said
Eating what you're fed
Sometimes things are not as they seem
The person with the crummy clothes could turn out as a king
Insinuations make divagated dreams
A brief intermission that wasn't scripted in our schemes
To take a guesstimate of what you don't understand
Applying all detriment to an ambiguous plan
But take another stance
Go and seek the truth
Gain understanding or take a seat and be a fool
And you can heed a clue in the wrong way
Insinuate the wrong thing
Mere implications
Flipped around and gone a long way"
"Insinuations never even give a chance
Instead of the facts
You believe in what was said
Eating what you're fed
Sometimes things are not as they seem
The person with the crummy clothes could turn out as a king
Insinuations make divagated dreams
A brief intermission that wasn't scripted in our schemes
To take a guesstimate of what you don't understand
Applying all detriment to an ambiguous plan
But take another stance
Go and seek the truth
Gain understanding or take a seat and be a fool
And you can heed a clue in the wrong way
Insinuate the wrong thing
Mere implications
Flipped around and gone a long way"
http://artsplas.mangin.free.fr/image_11139.jpg
< i lied about the frogs >
a frog turns gold
in the sun
in the hot sun
a frog
turns gold
a frog
rubbed gold by the sun
watching the sun
make gold frogs
frogs in the sun
frogs in the pond
unless it moves
a frog
doesn't give a shit
hot gold frogs
shitting in the sun
a gold sun
frogs me in the pond
there are no frogs
no sun
no pond
just words
well...
i lied about the frogs
of course there're frogs
- - -
Anonymous
"Slick Empire"
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/68658.jpg
Universal rules,
not golden,
copper-coated brass,
sassafras in your jaded glass,
revealing tarnished histories,
don’t have to dig too deep to
find case files of hard evidence,
no mysteries,
looking clean,
entirely stained.
But, we play serious games,
knowing it’s still the same,
inside jobs,
rigged outcomes,
blame the wolf crying,
favoritism creating schisms
below the surface,
going insane with the
mediocrity we call fairness.
Tooting our own horns,
beating our own drums,too.
A setting sun on the hoedown,
the confessional brings absolution
from silliness pollution,
in the midst of greater social fabric
means nothing.
No one says what they mean,
people looking for meals to survive
while others eat apple pie,
more kudos to you and you and you,
attaboys, attagirls, attaboys, attagirls,
angry rebels in tie dies,
ruby-lipped lies,
melon-sized thighs,
lovers of rhyme,
passionate souls,
glory seekers,
the ebb and the flow.
As, if anyone really knows anything,
we're talent scouts on a global scale,
throwing treats to those
experts by us experts,
some wearing transparency on
their weak shoulders,
others on their sleeves
perhaps,
a
faker
kingdom,
definitely,
a
slick
empire.
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/68658.jpg
Universal rules,
not golden,
copper-coated brass,
sassafras in your jaded glass,
revealing tarnished histories,
don’t have to dig too deep to
find case files of hard evidence,
no mysteries,
looking clean,
entirely stained.
But, we play serious games,
knowing it’s still the same,
inside jobs,
rigged outcomes,
blame the wolf crying,
favoritism creating schisms
below the surface,
going insane with the
mediocrity we call fairness.
Tooting our own horns,
beating our own drums,too.
A setting sun on the hoedown,
the confessional brings absolution
from silliness pollution,
in the midst of greater social fabric
means nothing.
No one says what they mean,
people looking for meals to survive
while others eat apple pie,
more kudos to you and you and you,
attaboys, attagirls, attaboys, attagirls,
angry rebels in tie dies,
ruby-lipped lies,
melon-sized thighs,
lovers of rhyme,
passionate souls,
glory seekers,
the ebb and the flow.
As, if anyone really knows anything,
we're talent scouts on a global scale,
throwing treats to those
experts by us experts,
some wearing transparency on
their weak shoulders,
others on their sleeves
perhaps,
a
faker
kingdom,
definitely,
a
slick
empire.
Anonymous
Toxic Trees
How could you
ruine
something
something so
beautiful
so quickly?
You,
you breathe
and it makes the branches
wilt
Haven't I told you to
keep your mouth
closed
Of course, you act
as though
you forget
An interesting ploy
professing ignorance
when in
reality selective hearing
has you
by the balls
My constant reminders
spin my
head around
a migraine
sizable enough to be
frightening
and I'm,
I am made
to suffer, too
by default
Don't embarrass yourself
with your,
your arrogant
perfume
Trees have souls too
and bark,
their bark only goes
so far
before
your chainsaw
mars a perfect thing
it turns
turns everything
toxic
and forests
bleed
the shade
of piss
not to mention
smell
of garbage
like you after,
after
it rains
How could you
ruine
something
something so
beautiful
so quickly?
You,
you breathe
and it makes the branches
wilt
Haven't I told you to
keep your mouth
closed
Of course, you act
as though
you forget
An interesting ploy
professing ignorance
when in
reality selective hearing
has you
by the balls
My constant reminders
spin my
head around
a migraine
sizable enough to be
frightening
and I'm,
I am made
to suffer, too
by default
Don't embarrass yourself
with your,
your arrogant
perfume
Trees have souls too
and bark,
their bark only goes
so far
before
your chainsaw
mars a perfect thing
it turns
turns everything
toxic
and forests
bleed
the shade
of piss
not to mention
smell
of garbage
like you after,
after
it rains
Anonymous
[hodgepodge]
The maker
of imitation sugar
wants to be
but isn't
[a substitute]
Digging into the bag
he ressurrects petrified vowels
[eight point score]
He puts fresh polish
on top til there's a shine
[spitting image]
Codes it
with spacial gestures
and hexagonal queries
[science experiment]
Then slaps on a reference
digitally and calls it
crisp
[thank you thesaurus]
What makes sense
to you?
[or doesn't?]
Explain that.
[take your time]
The maker
of imitation sugar
wants to be
but isn't
[a substitute]
Digging into the bag
he ressurrects petrified vowels
[eight point score]
He puts fresh polish
on top til there's a shine
[spitting image]
Codes it
with spacial gestures
and hexagonal queries
[science experiment]
Then slaps on a reference
digitally and calls it
crisp
[thank you thesaurus]
What makes sense
to you?
[or doesn't?]
Explain that.
[take your time]
Say what you will about nothing
oh would you g'away with your colors
and all the shiny trinkets
tied by skin to the end of that large stick
you're holding out in front of you
fuck you, and every last one of your tribe
preferably by gang of necrophiliacs
pumped full of Viagra
Jesus said it best
in the moments after he died on his feet
so I won't even try to re-create
that particular oration
oh would you g'away with your colors
and all the shiny trinkets
tied by skin to the end of that large stick
you're holding out in front of you
fuck you, and every last one of your tribe
preferably by gang of necrophiliacs
pumped full of Viagra
Jesus said it best
in the moments after he died on his feet
so I won't even try to re-create
that particular oration
Little dollies, plastic spiders, wooden tops
litter the painted pink floor
trying very hard to tiptoe
around all these toys
broken toys, new toys, old toys.
like a cat I am stealthy,
sneaky and quiet,
Stuffed monkey, a snowglobe and a baby rattle
Too many toys are in this room.
Much too small of a room.
Clowns, paintbrushes, feathered pillows
Really, how does it Work?
What child can play with this many,
toys?
litter the painted pink floor
trying very hard to tiptoe
around all these toys
broken toys, new toys, old toys.
like a cat I am stealthy,
sneaky and quiet,
Stuffed monkey, a snowglobe and a baby rattle
Too many toys are in this room.
Much too small of a room.
Clowns, paintbrushes, feathered pillows
Really, how does it Work?
What child can play with this many,
toys?
