Poetry competition CLOSED 27th October 2012 3:06am
WINNER
firedaughter (StayAwayFromTheNutcase)
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with a twist

jctmme112092
jctmme112092
BluntTrama
Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 24th Jan 2011
Forum Posts: 50

Poetry Contest

i want a write that goes it a completely different direction at the end

lunabella
lunabella
Lost Thinker
United States
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Joined 16th Oct 2012
Forum Posts: 11

Any rules?

jctmme112092
jctmme112092
BluntTrama
Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 24th Jan 2011
Forum Posts: 50

No rules

skinnyjean
skinnyjean
Llamaliscious
Thought Provoker
New Zealand
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Joined 23rd May 2010
Forum Posts: 311




"Drink it's sentimental,
it's tradition
it's your 21st

Put your heels on,
you've been a good girl for so long"
They blurt in admiration.

A tear rolls down my cheek,
In realization of how they trust in me
This false attention comes unwanted,

Least' they'll all soon be in coffins
And I can let my secrets out,
and lay with you in the closet

With feathers in my mouth

Kou_Indigo
Kou_Indigo
Kara Lucielle Pythiana
Dangerous Mind
United States
62awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 15th Sep 2011
Forum Posts: 2542

- The Haunted Garden -

Within a garden encircling and fair, beneath an old mount,
By caretakers silent, whose eyes are shrouded, hooded…
Thereupon the fruitful earth stood a structure like a fount,
The waters of which fed streams in lands thickly wooded.
No angel there did ever alight, nor man of wisdom tread…
Even in the days when still did the sky sparkle, all around.
For black are the banners there, as raised up by the dead,
Who rest not in their carven tombs, nor in the wet ground!
Faded is the cloth, and the sign upon it drives some mad…
Save who have the eyes to regard the image thereon sewn.
Who knows the house that flew it before fortune was bad,
Enough to make the land accursed, despite beauty shown!
No mansion left there now, but broken stones so charred,
As to bespeak of Hell’s own flames, consuming evil entire.
Only the garden and the fount remain, under ghostly guard,
As yet untouched by time and tainted not by long-past fire.

Upon the air, you can still hear the music of cold panpipes,
Playing a fanfare unknown to those who venture there still.
Even when the frost of winter locks fast the land in its’ ice,
The music plays upon all the frosty winds, a melody chill…
To break the hearts of lovers and to bring tears to the eye!
Alas for that domain, for it is lost betwixt many old spaces,
Seldom traveled by man, above which looms an alien sky.
And below that, things flit with terrible half-glimpsed faces!
The roses of the garden bloom, but dust is on every petal…
Tragic and faded as a waning moon, nigh unto cycle’s end.
But lo, the knight who ventures there oft to test his mettle…
May yet, find some good that his heart could comprehend!
He learns best who listens, and there the secret is foretold,
Which is so jealously kept, by the spectral guardians there.
Beneath the shadows, beneath all the wild vines and mold!
Voices call out to the knight: “he succeeds who will dare.”

Drink not of that fount which feeds the streams of gloom…
Lest you never see, the dawn that waits oft to be savored!
Drums in the distance echo thunder, an approaching doom.
Or is it the knight’s heartbeat crying aloud to be delivered?
Yet in a coffin made of glass, he finds the slumbering maid,
Whose tears, once rotted that land yet preserved this spot.
He can only stare at such a wonder, his nerves past afraid,
For not a touch of decay is upon the lady, no trace of rot!
He casts back the lid, hoping to kiss her and break a spell,
But dark is fate, for as his lips meet that of the silent lady…
The thunder resounds, with a force and fury as out of Hell!
And the years begin to ravage the dead maid, vigorously…
Until those cold lips are no more and the knight withdraws,
Disgusted, by his flirtation with a sadly long-dead princess.
Her bones crumble to dust, her slender hands bony claws,
Leaving nothing to recall of her former vision, of loveliness.

poet Anonymous

"Gold in Stew"
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/61709.jpg
I went downtown as usual to the local butcher shop
to get my weekly order of blood sausage, brains, and pig’s feet.
Mr. Rainey was the most skilled meat cutter in the County,
dressed his product neatly, was never hasty, or ever snooty.
His specialty was beef stew, it was the talk of the town,
never any around, as it sold out quickly.
He was the type of guy you could trust, very modest,
his knowledge of animal anatomy was incredible.
Always gave a great variety on a display table,
business appeared stable as there was always
a line at the counter to get his delicious cuts,
for brisket sales he gave biscuits on the side.
This day was different, the yellow caution
tape wrapped around the building made it
look like Ft. Knox, you couldn’t get in, and
nothing was going to get out with all
the cops walking about, looking so alive.
I didn’t know what to think about all the commotion,
oldies “Locomotion” blasted on the airwaves.
All of the sudden, there a news flash, busted the tune,
“Local Butcher Suspected of Harboring Illegal Immigrants!”
Wow, I thought this was going to get rather interesting, as
the SWAT team showed up in force for some gun action.
As they went in for the attack, the leaders rhetoric on
the electric bullhorn ordered us, “Stand back!”
These guys were consummate pros, no greenhorns here,
within minutes, the door was flattened, quickly signaled, “ALL CLEAR!”
Mr. Rainey was chastened out, a bit frightened,
not bludgeoned, as he was a peaceful man.
No illegals were unearthed, the shop was empty, and
within twenty minutes, was open for business.
The cops drove away dumbfounded, unfounded,
their beliefs were dashed by what had occurred,
found no human trash, as some might call them-the illegals that is.
Just the same, I did not want to be bothersome,
Mr. Rainey had been troubled some already today, so,
I decided to drive back to my Cali hacienda, finish
the special stew I had left out on my veranda.
A quick trip to the microwave, an ice cold Corona,
I settled in with my feet propped up, the
aroma of cooked beef tickled my palate.
Mmmmm Mmmm, this was some tasty gruel.
That’s when I saw it, the gold tooth
in the bottom of the soup bowl.
It was then I remembered the deejay
mentioning something about thirty people missing.
Eyewitnesses reported a dozen, maybe
more, going in the butcher store,
with none ever seen coming
out the front door.
Oh, Dear Lord!  

firedaughter
firedaughter
StayAwayFromTheNutcase
Fire of Insight
United States
17awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 14th Feb 2012
Forum Posts: 808

We hired a new gardener    
She seemed so plain..    
That's why I was surprised    
When I had saw where she had lain..    
   
My husband untrusting    
And the gardener no better    
Maybe it fits best..    
If I just behead her..    
   
So I stayed up all night    
Plotting my revenge    
And I sat    
As my plan unhinged..    
   
I thought it out    
I'll go in disguise    
And wait for the moment    
And take her by surprise!    
   
I plotted and planned    
For the next couple of nights..    
Til' finally, FINALLY    
The time was just right...    
   
I followed her home    
and quiet as a mouse    
I tiptoed quietly    
right into her house..    
   
When she asked me what I was doing    
I replied, "Just taking some off the top"    
And once I started...    
I couldn't stop..    
   
I couldn't until    
Her body was a mess..    
I took my prize home    
and hoped for the best...    
   
My husband woke up    
and waltzed into the room    
The first question he asked    
" Wheres the gardener? She's usually here by noon.."    
   
Oh how that burned me up    
How it just set another bomb    
And pretty soon..    
His head will be gone..    
   
So again I found myself waiting    
For yet another to sleep    
And I will admit    
I almost did weep..    
   
But I can't turn back now    
From all that I have done    
There's only one left    
and the job needs done...    
   
I crept inside    
quiet as a mouse    
I dont know why I did    
For it was my own house..    
   
But I found it calming    
So I went and found an axe..    
I always save the best    
For very, very last...    
   
I raised it up    
High above my head    
And brought it down hard    
On him and the bed..    
   
He never even knew!    
I could tell by his eyes!    
This came as a shock    
And equal surprise!    
   
I had finally laid down    
From a long days work    
When I saw the lights    
And heard the sirens jerk....    
   
I didn't know what to do!    
I had no place to hide!    
Where do I put them?!    
Somewhere they cant find..    
   
I went to the door    
after I heard a stern knock    
They were asking about her..    
It was the cops..    
   
I told them the best lie    
Probably one for the books    
Words can be just as decieving    
As those of looks..    
   
They are all gone    
And I finally rest my head..    
And I look over    
They are both in bed..    
   
I scream and scream    
As loud as I can!    
I wake up to shaking..    
From my husbands hand..    
   
I look around the room    
And ask "Wheres the Gardener?"    
"Oh don't worry, " he says,    
"I fired her..."

siphondarkness
siphondarkness
Levi
Dangerous Mind
United States
14awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 6th Apr 2011
Forum Posts: 2026

firedaughter said:We hired a new gardener    
She seemed so plain..    
That's why I was surprised    
When I had saw where she had lain..    
   
My husband untrusting    
And the gardener no better    
Maybe it fits best..    
If I just behead her..    
   
So I stayed up all night    
Plotting my revenge    
And I sat    
As my plan unhinged..    
   
I thought it out    
I'll go in disguise    
And wait for the moment    
And take her by surprise!    
   
I plotted and planned    
For the next couple of nights..    
Til' finally, FINALLY    
The time was just right...    
   
I followed her home    
and quiet as a mouse    
I tiptoed quietly    
right into her house..    
   
When she asked me what I was doing    
I replied, "Just taking some off the top"    
And once I started...    
I couldn't stop..    
   
I couldn't until    
Her body was a mess..    
I took my prize home    
and hoped for the best...    
   
My husband woke up    
and waltzed into the room    
The first question he asked    
" Wheres the gardener? She's usually here by noon.."    
   
Oh how that burned me up    
How it just set another bomb    
And pretty soon..    
His head will be gone..    
   
So again I found myself waiting    
For yet another to sleep    
And I will admit    
I almost did weep..    
   
But I can't turn back now    
From all that I have done    
There's only one left    
and the job needs done...    
   
I crept inside    
quiet as a mouse    
I dont know why I did    
For it was my own house..    
   
But I found it calming    
So I went and found an axe..    
I always save the best    
For very, very last...    
   
I raised it up    
High above my head    
And brought it down hard    
On him and the bed..    
   
He never even knew!    
I could tell by his eyes!    
This came as a shock    
And equal surprise!    
   
I had finally laid down    
From a long days work    
When I saw the lights    
And heard the sirens jerk....    
   
I didn't know what to do!    
I had no place to hide!    
Where do I put them?!    
Somewhere they cant find..    
   
I went to the door    
after I heard a stern knock    
They were asking about her..    
It was the cops..    
   
I told them the best lie    
Probably one for the books    
Words can be just as decieving    
As those of looks..    
   
They are all gone    
And I finally rest my head..    
And I look over    
They are both in bed..    
   
I scream and scream    
As loud as I can!    
I wake up to shaking..    
From my husbands hand..    
   
I look around the room    
And ask "Wheres the Gardener?"    
"Oh don't worry, " he says,    
"I fired her..."


Haha I remember this one. <3 it. xD

hanninnee
hanninnee
Hannah Alexis
Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 24th Sep 2012
Forum Posts: 57

This topic made me think of my favorite short poems. It's not mine in anyway but I love it. Hope you do too.

She paints a pretty picture
But the picture has a twist
The paint brush is a razor
And the canvas is her wrist

jctmme112092
jctmme112092
BluntTrama
Twisted Dreamer
United States
1awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 24th Jan 2011
Forum Posts: 50

Ashame that isn't yours it's brilliant
Who wrote it?

poet Anonymous

- Inner demons can't play chess -

What a silly game we've played
but with such passion too
each sides moving
shifting, twisting
around this plot for two
each piece is taking up its place
while every check still needs a mate
to bad the game has been cut short
when forced to medicate

hanninnee
hanninnee
Hannah Alexis
Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 24th Sep 2012
Forum Posts: 57

jctmme112092 said:Ashame that isn't yours it's brilliant
Who wrote it?


Im not sure, a freind sent it to me. I'll try to find out.

Kou_Indigo
Kou_Indigo
Kara Lucielle Pythiana
Dangerous Mind
United States
62awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 15th Sep 2011
Forum Posts: 2542

- Familiar Spirit -

Regarding the moon, is an eye that sees all,
Not all-seeing like some gypsy’s crystal ball…
But something more sinister and arcane too!
It waited for the darkening of skies once blue.
When I walk in the woods it regards me well,
And I sense in it some kindred from deep Hell.
I regard the eye and look into its’ vast deeps…
And the raven looks back as the world sleeps.
Familiar spirit, sent to guide me to my meeting,
With spirits that await my sorcery’s greeting!
I did not realize at first, though I felt the dread,
That raven was in reality, a spirit of the dead.

paolajane16
paolajane16
PKR.virus
Twisted Dreamer
Philippines
4awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 31st May 2012
Forum Posts: 79

HAUNTED

It was quarter to 12,
Emily's alone lying in her white cold bed,
Suddenly she heard a noise she rushed down stairs,  
It was coming from the lawn, she grasped some air,  
She went to the kitchen and took a knife,  
She walk through the back door  
As she silently prays everything's going to be alright  
She saw a teenage girl hiding behind the bush  
As she turned her head she saw a woman lying beside the pool  
And then a guy whom she knows not worth trusting  
She hid herself and watched terrified at what's happening  
The woman was raped, torn, he ripped her flesh,  
He cut her throat with the knife he took from her grip,  
He broke her neck, blood flowing through her vest,  
The woman's dying, screaming for some help  
Emily couldn't help her! She's so afraid she might be next,  
She could only see the woman's red eyes,  
Staring at her half awake, half dead,
The guy dig a hole and buried her there,
then he walked away with an evil grin on his face.  
Emily knows her step father is wicked,
But her mom trust him, she will never believe her,  
She remembered the girl who's hiding behind the bush,  
Emily walks towards her, she sense fear in her eyes,
And then she spoke to Emily's surprise,  
"Please Aunt Emily, it's been a long time!  
Stop haunting this place! You've been dead for more than 25!  
Grandfather is not here, 12 years ago he died!  
Please Auntie, find peace, find the light!  
you must go to the other side!"  
Stunned as Emily begun to cry...  
Sobbing in fears, she didn't realized she saw herself died!

Atakti
Atakti
Tyrant of Words
32awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 1st Aug 2012
Forum Posts: 3273

Tempted

My hands itch
And my heart jumps.
I see you again after
All this time.

I try to be strong,
To think of my commitment.
I grow so weak in my resolve.
I don’t think I’m going to make it.

I imagine what would happen,
If I just grabbed you this time.
I’d breathe in, and say
“God, you smell divine.”

Delicious, delectable,
Begging to be bitten.
I can’t believe you’re
Here in my kitchen.

Fresh and hot,
Chewy and fudgey,
There on the plate
Is a beautiful brownie.

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