Poetry competition CLOSED 30th October 2012 11:51am
WINNER
cjflier
cjflier
RUNNERS-UP:
marielavoue
and DiamondDustMirror
The World Through your Eyes
Earth at full throttle
The world
an engine piston
shoving and shifting
compression , obsession
power in full comission .
Full forward traction
all for interaction .
Relaxation
high speed jubliation
moving across
all of the nations .
Forgiven
well ridden
grudges gone by
its time to use
and open
your third eye .
Interceptive and objective
its time to be a little more
perceptive
or collective ,
interactive , less of the captive
a touch towards
a world more attractive .
Technology
bad intentions
no apology
no comprehensions
what's the point of all
these interventions .
Combustion of internal
revving up of the infernal
nuculear powers ,
sky scraping towers
Taliban claiming to be muslim
but there cowards .
The modern world at war
one half winning
and their inforced law
the other one keeps spinning
each other they abhore
for f**ks sake
everyday I awake
and I just can't take
it anymore .
The world
an engine piston
shoving and shifting
compression , obsession
power in full comission .
Full forward traction
all for interaction .
Relaxation
high speed jubliation
moving across
all of the nations .
Forgiven
well ridden
grudges gone by
its time to use
and open
your third eye .
Interceptive and objective
its time to be a little more
perceptive
or collective ,
interactive , less of the captive
a touch towards
a world more attractive .
Technology
bad intentions
no apology
no comprehensions
what's the point of all
these interventions .
Combustion of internal
revving up of the infernal
nuculear powers ,
sky scraping towers
Taliban claiming to be muslim
but there cowards .
The modern world at war
one half winning
and their inforced law
the other one keeps spinning
each other they abhore
for f**ks sake
everyday I awake
and I just can't take
it anymore .
Anonymous
"Ain't Life Grand"
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/70114.jpg
Noses held high in the air,
strutting around without cares,
dressed to kill in designer dreams,
they scream, “Look at me!”
Driving shiny brand new beautiful cars,
they sleep comfortably numb in
mansions with manicured green lawns,
fountains of naked marble
heroes pissing in puddles.
Befuddled, they sit out back
next to the soothing luxurious pool,
sipping branded whiskey and wishing on stars,
yawning as they look down at you
spewing their extravagance and wealth,
keeping up with their snobbish neighbor kin,
never realizing they are just human shells,
empty consumptive minds
enjoying sin with empty pockets as the
interest rates rise quickly to
the rapidly falling economy.
Incidentally, I live modestly.
Snoring in comfort,
quiet as a mouse in
my two-bedroom house,
loose unpainted shutters adorn
my screen-less cracked windows,
uncut brown weeds grow noticeable
crop circles in my grass, abundantly.
Strange, how rich I feel
cruising around town in
my ’66 Chevy pick-up.
Smiling sheepishly,
I wave happily,
passing them by as they
talk to the gargantuan repo man,
bolt-cutters in his sweaty hands.
My rear view mirror catches
their greedy slick banker driving up,
mortgage foreclosure
gripped in his
own hamster hands.
Oh, boy,
ain’t life grand.
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/70114.jpg
Noses held high in the air,
strutting around without cares,
dressed to kill in designer dreams,
they scream, “Look at me!”
Driving shiny brand new beautiful cars,
they sleep comfortably numb in
mansions with manicured green lawns,
fountains of naked marble
heroes pissing in puddles.
Befuddled, they sit out back
next to the soothing luxurious pool,
sipping branded whiskey and wishing on stars,
yawning as they look down at you
spewing their extravagance and wealth,
keeping up with their snobbish neighbor kin,
never realizing they are just human shells,
empty consumptive minds
enjoying sin with empty pockets as the
interest rates rise quickly to
the rapidly falling economy.
Incidentally, I live modestly.
Snoring in comfort,
quiet as a mouse in
my two-bedroom house,
loose unpainted shutters adorn
my screen-less cracked windows,
uncut brown weeds grow noticeable
crop circles in my grass, abundantly.
Strange, how rich I feel
cruising around town in
my ’66 Chevy pick-up.
Smiling sheepishly,
I wave happily,
passing them by as they
talk to the gargantuan repo man,
bolt-cutters in his sweaty hands.
My rear view mirror catches
their greedy slick banker driving up,
mortgage foreclosure
gripped in his
own hamster hands.
Oh, boy,
ain’t life grand.
Looking Out The Window
Looking out the window there's a world of indifference
I never was quite sure what I was missing
Equivocal vision
The disposition is aggrieved
And not only for me
As well as people in the streets
Open up and take a peek
What you see might frighten the soul
And if you quickly turn away it might lighten the load
You might like that road
But you should know it's not the best way
Strive for a change
And just don't worry what the rest say
In fact
Let the rest stay just where they are
Because in time you can shine ultra bright like a star
I open up the blinds and I saw the truth
Forced into hiding
It seemed a bantam bit aloof
Intentions misconstrued
Now what's left to do?
We've been written off
We only dream about the hard times soon getting soft
I've been relinquished and scoffed at
Friends didn't called back
But you have to keep the faith
Even through all that
Looking out the window there's a world of indifference
I never was quite sure what I was missing
Equivocal vision
The disposition is aggrieved
And not only for me
As well as people in the streets
Open up and take a peek
What you see might frighten the soul
And if you quickly turn away it might lighten the load
You might like that road
But you should know it's not the best way
Strive for a change
And just don't worry what the rest say
In fact
Let the rest stay just where they are
Because in time you can shine ultra bright like a star
I open up the blinds and I saw the truth
Forced into hiding
It seemed a bantam bit aloof
Intentions misconstrued
Now what's left to do?
We've been written off
We only dream about the hard times soon getting soft
I've been relinquished and scoffed at
Friends didn't called back
But you have to keep the faith
Even through all that
Elegy
The unheard scream of a troubled mind
leaving breath in a subtle bind.
Happy face, tired eyes,
seeking truth from admired lies.
All is one in this devise,
one was once what I now despise.
So much loss for victory's win
no one's right within this sin.
Here is alone, cautioning the wind,
there is the world, dashboard pinned.
No one dares to tear it down,
yet always prepared to bare a frown.
Strangled breath gives out at last
as future strolls into familiar past.
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/71374-elegy/
The unheard scream of a troubled mind
leaving breath in a subtle bind.
Happy face, tired eyes,
seeking truth from admired lies.
All is one in this devise,
one was once what I now despise.
So much loss for victory's win
no one's right within this sin.
Here is alone, cautioning the wind,
there is the world, dashboard pinned.
No one dares to tear it down,
yet always prepared to bare a frown.
Strangled breath gives out at last
as future strolls into familiar past.
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/71374-elegy/
I see the world as a place of pain
where a damaged child has no voice
I've made promises to them again and again
so you see I have no choice
For if I don't speak for them
who ever will?
I am the voice of the children. I beg you, listen to them.
Do not shut out their small voices. Do not make them mute thru lack of listening.
Hear my story, I will tell you what they are saying. Look into my soul, I am one with them. Thru me, you will hear the small child's cry in the night.
Do not be blind to their pain, just because it's too painful for you. Feel my pain and you will feel their pain. Reach out to me. I will take you to them. They are inside of me. I am with them always.
But to only feel and hear their pain alone will not help our children. To be outside looking in IS NOT ENOUGH. It will not stop the future rage against the unforgivable. It will not stop teenage suicides of body and mind.
At best it may stay the hand from the life ending thrust, or the bullet thru the brain intended to stop them from further debasement.
But you cannot stop the dying of spirit or death of soul.
To let them go on living thru this hell, OUT OF YOUR OWN COWARDNESS, will not make you a better person than the indecent ones. NAY, by not helping the innocent ones, you are aiding the child abuser to be the best that they can be. YOU become One with THEM.
Do not let the children hear the safe and quiet voice of death that is forever calling them. Let yours be the voice that is heard.
SCREAM OUT to them, so they know the safety of a voice far sweeter than the voice of pending darkness.
LET THEM HEAR THE SOUND OF LOVE WITHOUT HYPOCRISY.
LET THEM KNOW THE FEEL OF A HANDS TOUCH WITHOUT EVIL INTENT.
LET THEM HEAR THE CREAK OF A BED AT NIGHT WITHOUT FEAR
AND LAUGHTER WITHOUT MALICE.
YOU must answer their prayers and not hold god responsible for what you are capable of doing yourself.
When you ask the children how they are doing, YOU MUST LISTEN TO THEM. Listen, not only to their words alone, but to the sounds that their eyes make. Look deeply into the book of their lives, their eyes.
Ask only, and they will answer to you "SAVE ME". Take them by their hands and pull them into the light..
This is what the children are saying.
I KNOW.
I AM THE VOICE OF THE CHILDREN
AND MY STORY TELLS IT ALL
where a damaged child has no voice
I've made promises to them again and again
so you see I have no choice
For if I don't speak for them
who ever will?
I am the voice of the children. I beg you, listen to them.
Do not shut out their small voices. Do not make them mute thru lack of listening.
Hear my story, I will tell you what they are saying. Look into my soul, I am one with them. Thru me, you will hear the small child's cry in the night.
Do not be blind to their pain, just because it's too painful for you. Feel my pain and you will feel their pain. Reach out to me. I will take you to them. They are inside of me. I am with them always.
But to only feel and hear their pain alone will not help our children. To be outside looking in IS NOT ENOUGH. It will not stop the future rage against the unforgivable. It will not stop teenage suicides of body and mind.
At best it may stay the hand from the life ending thrust, or the bullet thru the brain intended to stop them from further debasement.
But you cannot stop the dying of spirit or death of soul.
To let them go on living thru this hell, OUT OF YOUR OWN COWARDNESS, will not make you a better person than the indecent ones. NAY, by not helping the innocent ones, you are aiding the child abuser to be the best that they can be. YOU become One with THEM.
Do not let the children hear the safe and quiet voice of death that is forever calling them. Let yours be the voice that is heard.
SCREAM OUT to them, so they know the safety of a voice far sweeter than the voice of pending darkness.
LET THEM HEAR THE SOUND OF LOVE WITHOUT HYPOCRISY.
LET THEM KNOW THE FEEL OF A HANDS TOUCH WITHOUT EVIL INTENT.
LET THEM HEAR THE CREAK OF A BED AT NIGHT WITHOUT FEAR
AND LAUGHTER WITHOUT MALICE.
YOU must answer their prayers and not hold god responsible for what you are capable of doing yourself.
When you ask the children how they are doing, YOU MUST LISTEN TO THEM. Listen, not only to their words alone, but to the sounds that their eyes make. Look deeply into the book of their lives, their eyes.
Ask only, and they will answer to you "SAVE ME". Take them by their hands and pull them into the light..
This is what the children are saying.
I KNOW.
I AM THE VOICE OF THE CHILDREN
AND MY STORY TELLS IT ALL
The Known Five Percent
There is no light that can penetrate the deepest caverns of the ocean.
Only bioluminesence can pierce the velvety darkness.
How beautiful and terrible it must be to dwell in the obsidian depths.
How it must be to live with no sight or sense of direction.
How long can one stand the solitude and loneliness?
How are the creatures able to stand the lurking and constant chill?
Does one even notice these things?
Or are all the creatures here used to this mysterious and hidden world?
It has no ruler. No King of this realm.
The law of the creatures is unstructured and chaotic.
Espionage is a friend to many.
Secrecy is a must to live in the eternal night of the ocean.
To see day would be blinding. To rise above would crush you.
It must be a sad existance to know nothing of the beauty the sea has to offer.
Never to see the vibrant corals, the invigerating oceanic plant life.
Life in the deeo can only be seen as a dull, lackluster life.
Or is it?
We only make the assumptions based on what we have seen.
But what have we seen? Only five percent of these bottom dwellers existance.
Maybe there is a hidden world beyond the charcoal veil.
One where the darkness is washed away by the light?
One where bioluminesence is so pure and bright.
Can these unexplored creatures and life see as clear as daylight?
Or is this just the wishful thinking of the crazed explorer?
Is there a hidden Eden down here? A secret treasure burried by time?
Is there another dimension?
One where long lost creatures are still in existance?
But how could we ever know unless we delve deeper.
Is it that we are too afraid of what we may discover?
We only know the secrets that our oceans have to offer, by revelation through time.
It is too massive and protected for us to know more.
The creatures who inhabit the deep have a security system far more advanced than our own.
How should we ever hope to gobble up all the knowledge the abyss has to offer, when we can't even fathom what it could hold?
Only time can tell. So we will wait.
There is no light that can penetrate the deepest caverns of the ocean.
Only bioluminesence can pierce the velvety darkness.
How beautiful and terrible it must be to dwell in the obsidian depths.
How it must be to live with no sight or sense of direction.
How long can one stand the solitude and loneliness?
How are the creatures able to stand the lurking and constant chill?
Does one even notice these things?
Or are all the creatures here used to this mysterious and hidden world?
It has no ruler. No King of this realm.
The law of the creatures is unstructured and chaotic.
Espionage is a friend to many.
Secrecy is a must to live in the eternal night of the ocean.
To see day would be blinding. To rise above would crush you.
It must be a sad existance to know nothing of the beauty the sea has to offer.
Never to see the vibrant corals, the invigerating oceanic plant life.
Life in the deeo can only be seen as a dull, lackluster life.
Or is it?
We only make the assumptions based on what we have seen.
But what have we seen? Only five percent of these bottom dwellers existance.
Maybe there is a hidden world beyond the charcoal veil.
One where the darkness is washed away by the light?
One where bioluminesence is so pure and bright.
Can these unexplored creatures and life see as clear as daylight?
Or is this just the wishful thinking of the crazed explorer?
Is there a hidden Eden down here? A secret treasure burried by time?
Is there another dimension?
One where long lost creatures are still in existance?
But how could we ever know unless we delve deeper.
Is it that we are too afraid of what we may discover?
We only know the secrets that our oceans have to offer, by revelation through time.
It is too massive and protected for us to know more.
The creatures who inhabit the deep have a security system far more advanced than our own.
How should we ever hope to gobble up all the knowledge the abyss has to offer, when we can't even fathom what it could hold?
Only time can tell. So we will wait.
Anonymous
Sandswept vision
Through a lens
Scarlet skies
From springs womb
To winters tomb
Innocent child
Her eyes are greener
Than the first of grass
Her lips are dewdrops
She is the face
Of undying grace
She is the path I trace
Piano plays
As her melody sways
The enchanter
Bewitcher
The angelic avenger
The demonic driven deer
She is all I hope and fear
She is the ground beneath
The face of love
She is the flame
My memoire I enframe
Somewhere someone speaks her name
Once she was a golden dame
When all there was was a moment
Stolen like a kiss
Eternal bliss
Is all
There is
Lest not forget Life
Be the world as you know it
Show it
Empty handed
Full hearted
I stand in the light
Fire, ignite
Risen within me
Ill show you
Eternity
21rst of october 2012, LUME¤
A landscape dotted with concrete phallus' of Metropolis
polluting a once virile and fertile horizon
Where poignant feces on a coffee table
make commentary on poverty
Yeah, they'd buy that.
Cracker boxes lined up like little soldiers
ready for a homogeneous war on asymmetry
Where neighbors dodge landmines obscured by gardens
and pass you by with jack-o-lantern grins
Can they see me?
Eyes of a broken skylight at dusk
Where questions question themselves;
Am I what I produce or what I consume?
Thoughts that fleet faster than a disintegrating cigarette
and the only virgin is a neglected page
I like it here
My world
Wake up world the bird twitters
Wake up world the squirrel yawns
The first sunrays peep
Through languid waving leaves
Blown by gentle cool breeze
It’s a new day, a new day
Chuckles the streams
Fronds of my roofs
Shading the veranda of my house
Fronds of palm trees
Overhanging the balcony
Of my bedroom
Towards the east
My paddy fields yellowing grains
From the cool babbling brooks
I carry water with bamboo cuts
To cook my first meal
Boiled tapioca and yams
To brew coffee beans
Picked and dried yesterday
My morning has started
Afternoon sun hot on my back
My nets are heavy with my catch
Wriggling tilapia and catfish
To cook on slow wood fire
Sprinkling chilli and salt
On roasted fish, fragrant
Eaten with fluffy white rice
Dinner eaten at the balcony
Looking out to the setting sun
Lighting rice balls with meat of boar
Cooked with golden wild honey
Bamboo shoots and wild mushrooms
Rice wine on bamboo cups
I toast the approaching evening
The twilight is here again
Distant sounds of owls commence
A dog bark far away
To my reed mat I go
Lie down and flirt with sleep
Goodnight my world
Tomorrow we meet again!
Wake up world the bird twitters
Wake up world the squirrel yawns
The first sunrays peep
Through languid waving leaves
Blown by gentle cool breeze
It’s a new day, a new day
Chuckles the streams
Fronds of my roofs
Shading the veranda of my house
Fronds of palm trees
Overhanging the balcony
Of my bedroom
Towards the east
My paddy fields yellowing grains
From the cool babbling brooks
I carry water with bamboo cuts
To cook my first meal
Boiled tapioca and yams
To brew coffee beans
Picked and dried yesterday
My morning has started
Afternoon sun hot on my back
My nets are heavy with my catch
Wriggling tilapia and catfish
To cook on slow wood fire
Sprinkling chilli and salt
On roasted fish, fragrant
Eaten with fluffy white rice
Dinner eaten at the balcony
Looking out to the setting sun
Lighting rice balls with meat of boar
Cooked with golden wild honey
Bamboo shoots and wild mushrooms
Rice wine on bamboo cups
I toast the approaching evening
The twilight is here again
Distant sounds of owls commence
A dog bark far away
To my reed mat I go
Lie down and flirt with sleep
Goodnight my world
Tomorrow we meet again!
