Poetry competition CLOSED 6th December 2012 6:41pm
WINNER
FacePaint (Steven D)
FacePaint (Steven D)
RUNNER-UP:
Kou_Indigo
WINTER POEM
His face that hold eyes
of mountains in the sky
Misty peaks where springs have
fallen to quench another's thirst
Soft white layers blown into the wind
Falling glittering dust in the warm sun
His words hang from trees in snowy winter colours
melting the blanket of ice rooted for so long in the earth
Holding off the avalanche that can crush the world it spins upon
as it bends the spine with the weight of it's ever moving urgency
Crystal ice ribbons weave through her hair too heavy to blow in the wind
Her green eyes hold stories that he longs to dive into and find their depths
On fragile arrows that move swiftly played in slow motion frames
Cupid's bow lips blue and hungry for the taste of winters breath
Her words hang in strings of dreams and tear drop spears
catching the sometimes pieces of falling hidden fragments
Soft white layers blown into the wind
Falling glittering dust in the warm sun
His face that hold eyes
of mountains in the sky
When we were kids.
Remember when we were just kids?
Might we return to one of those old days,
during the spring of our lives?
I know our bodies have grown, matured
it's now the winter of those same lives,
but there was a conversation I want to replay.
It was out behind the shed,
under the lilac in spring,
with the warm afternoon sun,
encouraging us to lay side-by-side.
We talked of important things;
What purple smelled like.
What color warm was.
How friendship felt.
What that thing called love was all about.
That was the spring when you looked at me and ask
what made me a boy, different from you, a girl.
I looked back at you and said something about
you wearing different clothing that I did
but that I didn't know why.
You wondered if we traded clothes,
would that mean I would then be a girl and you a boy.
We decided to try that.
All we had to trade was shirts, pants, and underwear.
We stood face to face and began to undress.
There was no shyness between friends.
We unbuttoned, button for button, and our shirts were off.
Then pants, except, I remember I had a snap and zipper and yours just pulled down.
It was under our underwear that we first saw the difference.
I saw that you were missing some parts that I had.
You saw that I had extra parts.
We sat down to talk about the differences we had seen.
You ask to look closer and I said sure, go ahead.
You ask could you touch and I said ok, if you want.
You ask did I want to look closer and I said sure, if it was ok.
And I ask, could I touch and you said ok.
After a while we got tired of looking and touching and got dressed again.
Funny thing was, we put our own clothes back on.
It didn't seem right to trade clothes any more.
All that summer we talked, and looked, and touched.
And we watch the big kids, especially down at the swimming pool.
I ask about the big girls and their big boobs.
You ask about why the big boys' parts got bigger around the big girls.
Your mom told you that you would get bigger as you grew up.
My dad said the samething to me.
We never did get it all figured out.
Then that September you moved away.
And now, after all these years,
we meet here in the lobby of this resort.
We wouldn't have recognized each other
if you hadn't heard the clerk refer to me by name
and where I was from.
What I want to know is,
do you remember that summer?
I know it is winter now,
Could we pretend that the sun coming in the window in my room
is like the sun under the lilacs then?
After all of these years,
I would still like to know,
what you think --
purple smells like,
and what color warm is.
When you left I learned what the absence of friendship felt like.
Over the years, remembering you, I think I know what love is about.
And, if you've grown the same,
(the look in you eyes says you have)
then I have one more thing to say ---
Along with the looking and touching,
Might I add --
I'll let you play with mine,
if you let me play with yours.
Remember when we were just kids?
Might we return to one of those old days,
during the spring of our lives?
I know our bodies have grown, matured
it's now the winter of those same lives,
but there was a conversation I want to replay.
It was out behind the shed,
under the lilac in spring,
with the warm afternoon sun,
encouraging us to lay side-by-side.
We talked of important things;
What purple smelled like.
What color warm was.
How friendship felt.
What that thing called love was all about.
That was the spring when you looked at me and ask
what made me a boy, different from you, a girl.
I looked back at you and said something about
you wearing different clothing that I did
but that I didn't know why.
You wondered if we traded clothes,
would that mean I would then be a girl and you a boy.
We decided to try that.
All we had to trade was shirts, pants, and underwear.
We stood face to face and began to undress.
There was no shyness between friends.
We unbuttoned, button for button, and our shirts were off.
Then pants, except, I remember I had a snap and zipper and yours just pulled down.
It was under our underwear that we first saw the difference.
I saw that you were missing some parts that I had.
You saw that I had extra parts.
We sat down to talk about the differences we had seen.
You ask to look closer and I said sure, go ahead.
You ask could you touch and I said ok, if you want.
You ask did I want to look closer and I said sure, if it was ok.
And I ask, could I touch and you said ok.
After a while we got tired of looking and touching and got dressed again.
Funny thing was, we put our own clothes back on.
It didn't seem right to trade clothes any more.
All that summer we talked, and looked, and touched.
And we watch the big kids, especially down at the swimming pool.
I ask about the big girls and their big boobs.
You ask about why the big boys' parts got bigger around the big girls.
Your mom told you that you would get bigger as you grew up.
My dad said the samething to me.
We never did get it all figured out.
Then that September you moved away.
And now, after all these years,
we meet here in the lobby of this resort.
We wouldn't have recognized each other
if you hadn't heard the clerk refer to me by name
and where I was from.
What I want to know is,
do you remember that summer?
I know it is winter now,
Could we pretend that the sun coming in the window in my room
is like the sun under the lilacs then?
After all of these years,
I would still like to know,
what you think --
purple smells like,
and what color warm is.
When you left I learned what the absence of friendship felt like.
Over the years, remembering you, I think I know what love is about.
And, if you've grown the same,
(the look in you eyes says you have)
then I have one more thing to say ---
Along with the looking and touching,
Might I add --
I'll let you play with mine,
if you let me play with yours.
Forever Inside A Snow Storm ~
Snow flakes falling upon my face,
Wrapping me in their cold embrace.
Falling so gently onto my skin,
Melting slowly to rest within.
I watch the remains as they slide down,
As a drop of water falls to the ground.
I looked up to the sky again,
To find a million more for me to befriend.
Its comforting, this cold embrace,
This feeling of Love from another place.
These flakes of snow all hold a memory,
Little, tiny flashes of what used to be.
These little flakes take me away,
To a little place called "Yesterday".
Its getting dark and still they fall,
upon my face, upon my all.
Falling slowly through this frozen air,
To rest forever, Here and There.
I try to hear it as it hits the ground,
But it lands so gently, without a sound.
I wonder why it chose this place?
Why it chose to land upon my face?
I feel at peace among the frozen rain,
Like, when it melts, it takes with it my pain.
It feels like forever inside this storm of snow,
It keeps me in place, instead of always on the go.
These little flakes take me away,
To a little place called "Yesterday".
Snow flakes falling upon my face,
Wrapping me in their cold embrace.
Falling so gently onto my skin,
Melting slowly to rest within.
I watch the remains as they slide down,
As a drop of water falls to the ground.
I looked up to the sky again,
To find a million more for me to befriend.
Its comforting, this cold embrace,
This feeling of Love from another place.
These flakes of snow all hold a memory,
Little, tiny flashes of what used to be.
These little flakes take me away,
To a little place called "Yesterday".
Its getting dark and still they fall,
upon my face, upon my all.
Falling slowly through this frozen air,
To rest forever, Here and There.
I try to hear it as it hits the ground,
But it lands so gently, without a sound.
I wonder why it chose this place?
Why it chose to land upon my face?
I feel at peace among the frozen rain,
Like, when it melts, it takes with it my pain.
It feels like forever inside this storm of snow,
It keeps me in place, instead of always on the go.
These little flakes take me away,
To a little place called "Yesterday".
I see nothing,
but i feel warmth.
I feel it leaving me.
My fingers become cold to the touch.
My hair billowing out behind me.
The breath of Jack Frost down my neck.
The echo of silence fills my ears.
Its snowing, i can sense it landing,
On what used to be the windows of the soul.
The blinds were sealed shut,
Once upon a weary time.
Ever since, eternal winter had come.
Where was this place?
That sunlight never touched.
The place where everything dies.
Memory...
I remember nothing but ice.
The sound of snow.
What was once a sky,
Covered in white.
Mountains then crumbled away.
Trees kneeled to the ground
Light vanished behind shadows.
A crushing pain that pinned me down.
Lands of snow,
Kingdoms of ice,
Be kind to me.
but i feel warmth.
I feel it leaving me.
My fingers become cold to the touch.
My hair billowing out behind me.
The breath of Jack Frost down my neck.
The echo of silence fills my ears.
Its snowing, i can sense it landing,
On what used to be the windows of the soul.
The blinds were sealed shut,
Once upon a weary time.
Ever since, eternal winter had come.
Where was this place?
That sunlight never touched.
The place where everything dies.
Memory...
I remember nothing but ice.
The sound of snow.
What was once a sky,
Covered in white.
Mountains then crumbled away.
Trees kneeled to the ground
Light vanished behind shadows.
A crushing pain that pinned me down.
Lands of snow,
Kingdoms of ice,
Be kind to me.
- Red Dream, White Winter -
I watched the flowers bloom in the spring, and my hope did soar anew,
I beheld as they withered in the summer heat, but still I did hold true.
To dreams so fleeting that I wonder if they had graced my soul at all,
I did cling, with the faith of one who stands strong before the squall.
Oh muses, grant my lips the fire with which to speak of my madness...
To speak of passions hoped for, eternal love yearned for in sadness!
I watched my dreams wither, as the mountains are worn with years,
I beheld so many loved ones pass before me, each loss many tears.
The fire, unquenched within me, stirred with the autumn colors' rising,
And in that fire I thought I spied a maiden's face ever young, undying.
The symbol of a quest unfinished, a year not through, a life to live full,
As there is no emptiness in dreams, only strong hope born of the will.
Are all who quest for happiness made first to know pain?
Mayhap, for true relief arrives if we survive past strain!
Thus winter came unto me unbidden, and the snow fell upon the land!
My ears heard the wailing of the wind, howling past my windowpane,
And sleepily I dreamed anew, my eyes grown heavy with night's sand.
That soil which saps one's reason, and takes hours for each tiny grain,
So came I to walk in lifetimes past, my soul's memory journeying back.
And in a hall I stood, with many robed men and women, eyes all black!
My own were blue as the sky, as they ever were, and so I did behold...
An elder gentleman walk up to me, a question forming on lips very old.
'Do you still seek the Grail, noble knight, and if so then answer truly...
For you the Grail is a maiden, and that is the truth that you discovered,
And so I must ask thee, noble knight, if you still seek the Grail, verily...
For none who seek it must abandon the journey they have uncovered.'
Are all who quest for enlightenment forced to see clear?
Mayhap, for clarity is the fabric felt best when sheer!
Still I seek: for what is the Grail but an ideal of what can save us best?
My heart yearns for the salvation that only love can bring, and so at last,
The truth of dreams leads one to ask, how many times have I sought...
Through age after age, time after time: until peace is so dearly bought.
No coin may purchase the treasure I seek; who shall pass me the Cup,
That I may drink of her lips, drowning my fire in the wine of love deep?
Oh Queen of Cups, before you I am meek and gentle, a newborn pup,
For were I to kneel before any mortal, I would choose to at your feet.
Reveal yourself, for am I not the Fool for which you have awaited long?
Our cards were drawn before the world was made, 'ere the first dawn!
Stronger than the thrones of kings, and with that strength I do endure,
As the snow, falls, and wind howls, and as the ocean batters the shore.
Are all who quest for peace made mad by a desire for it?
Mayhap, but peace is the warmest lap in which to sit!
Such was the maelstrom of my thoughts on awakening from old dream,
That I felt as if I glimpsed a universe of emotions, adrift upon a stream.
I dare not cast them away, for every feeling did bear my truest name...
And what would I be without my heart, which must eternally be aflame?
A single question forms upon my lips as I cast about once more to pray:
'Who is she for whom I have sought for lifetime after lifetime now past?
This one yet is unfinished, and I must find her 'ere the years go astray;
I must be strong, I must endure; even hard mountains I must outlast!'
But time presses all to be swift, and so I seek swiftly, and ever strong.
The Red Queen awaits me, though I know her not and yet am devoted,
As are all who set upon the path that dares not stray nor go too wrong!
She holds a rose in her hand, the perfume of which makes me besotted.
Are all who quest for love made mad by passion in turn?
Mayhap, but love is the fire in which, comforted, I burn!
I will place the wood upon the cold hearth, but who shall kindle the fire?
When chill grows the year and bitter the air, I play a song upon my lyre.
A song of love, writ long ago in red letters upon my spirit in another era,
When gods were not so distant, and many knew so well Zeus and Hera!
Who shall I teach the words to, when the time is come to pass it hence?
On winter nights, my voice alone fills the air and travels upward thence.
One lone and lonely song, amidst the cry of stars and worlds in infancy...
To reach the ears of divinities now far: in the hopes that I will be heard.
Some would call it foolishness to hope, but faith is ever a kind of lunacy,
And many has been the time when miracles came out of notions absurd!
I will continue to sing, ceasing only when I have someone to sing with...
For long are the hours of night until the morn, and I must make my wish.
I watched the flowers bloom in the spring, and my hope did soar anew,
I beheld as they withered in the summer heat, but still I did hold true.
To dreams so fleeting that I wonder if they had graced my soul at all,
I did cling, with the faith of one who stands strong before the squall.
Oh muses, grant my lips the fire with which to speak of my madness...
To speak of passions hoped for, eternal love yearned for in sadness!
I watched my dreams wither, as the mountains are worn with years,
I beheld so many loved ones pass before me, each loss many tears.
The fire, unquenched within me, stirred with the autumn colors' rising,
And in that fire I thought I spied a maiden's face ever young, undying.
The symbol of a quest unfinished, a year not through, a life to live full,
As there is no emptiness in dreams, only strong hope born of the will.
Are all who quest for happiness made first to know pain?
Mayhap, for true relief arrives if we survive past strain!
Thus winter came unto me unbidden, and the snow fell upon the land!
My ears heard the wailing of the wind, howling past my windowpane,
And sleepily I dreamed anew, my eyes grown heavy with night's sand.
That soil which saps one's reason, and takes hours for each tiny grain,
So came I to walk in lifetimes past, my soul's memory journeying back.
And in a hall I stood, with many robed men and women, eyes all black!
My own were blue as the sky, as they ever were, and so I did behold...
An elder gentleman walk up to me, a question forming on lips very old.
'Do you still seek the Grail, noble knight, and if so then answer truly...
For you the Grail is a maiden, and that is the truth that you discovered,
And so I must ask thee, noble knight, if you still seek the Grail, verily...
For none who seek it must abandon the journey they have uncovered.'
Are all who quest for enlightenment forced to see clear?
Mayhap, for clarity is the fabric felt best when sheer!
Still I seek: for what is the Grail but an ideal of what can save us best?
My heart yearns for the salvation that only love can bring, and so at last,
The truth of dreams leads one to ask, how many times have I sought...
Through age after age, time after time: until peace is so dearly bought.
No coin may purchase the treasure I seek; who shall pass me the Cup,
That I may drink of her lips, drowning my fire in the wine of love deep?
Oh Queen of Cups, before you I am meek and gentle, a newborn pup,
For were I to kneel before any mortal, I would choose to at your feet.
Reveal yourself, for am I not the Fool for which you have awaited long?
Our cards were drawn before the world was made, 'ere the first dawn!
Stronger than the thrones of kings, and with that strength I do endure,
As the snow, falls, and wind howls, and as the ocean batters the shore.
Are all who quest for peace made mad by a desire for it?
Mayhap, but peace is the warmest lap in which to sit!
Such was the maelstrom of my thoughts on awakening from old dream,
That I felt as if I glimpsed a universe of emotions, adrift upon a stream.
I dare not cast them away, for every feeling did bear my truest name...
And what would I be without my heart, which must eternally be aflame?
A single question forms upon my lips as I cast about once more to pray:
'Who is she for whom I have sought for lifetime after lifetime now past?
This one yet is unfinished, and I must find her 'ere the years go astray;
I must be strong, I must endure; even hard mountains I must outlast!'
But time presses all to be swift, and so I seek swiftly, and ever strong.
The Red Queen awaits me, though I know her not and yet am devoted,
As are all who set upon the path that dares not stray nor go too wrong!
She holds a rose in her hand, the perfume of which makes me besotted.
Are all who quest for love made mad by passion in turn?
Mayhap, but love is the fire in which, comforted, I burn!
I will place the wood upon the cold hearth, but who shall kindle the fire?
When chill grows the year and bitter the air, I play a song upon my lyre.
A song of love, writ long ago in red letters upon my spirit in another era,
When gods were not so distant, and many knew so well Zeus and Hera!
Who shall I teach the words to, when the time is come to pass it hence?
On winter nights, my voice alone fills the air and travels upward thence.
One lone and lonely song, amidst the cry of stars and worlds in infancy...
To reach the ears of divinities now far: in the hopes that I will be heard.
Some would call it foolishness to hope, but faith is ever a kind of lunacy,
And many has been the time when miracles came out of notions absurd!
I will continue to sing, ceasing only when I have someone to sing with...
For long are the hours of night until the morn, and I must make my wish.
Anonymous
Winter Morning
Emerging from between my sheets
I was presented with like this totally frosty morning
it was like so organically orgasmic
that it sent my reality meter soaring
I began applauding the Big Kahuna
for laying all this chillness out before me
without any hidden agenda or motive
it was just there man for all to see
I mean, dude, there are no higher marks of gratitude
conceivable for such a rad display of winter time
every possible hue of frozenness imaginable
was laid out before my mind
I was indeed not worthy
a mere mortal such as myself
could never grasp the complexity
of mixing a season so not ‘off-the-shelf’
“Bitching!”
I screamed into the crisp clean heavens
realizing in the aftermath of my organic display of emotion
my need to be forgiven
Immediately I began to chastise
my lame uncouthness
but, being only a hank of hair and piece of bone
thinking me free from error is, like so, beyond useless
Emerging from between my sheets
I was presented with like this totally frosty morning
it was like so organically orgasmic
that it sent my reality meter soaring
I began applauding the Big Kahuna
for laying all this chillness out before me
without any hidden agenda or motive
it was just there man for all to see
I mean, dude, there are no higher marks of gratitude
conceivable for such a rad display of winter time
every possible hue of frozenness imaginable
was laid out before my mind
I was indeed not worthy
a mere mortal such as myself
could never grasp the complexity
of mixing a season so not ‘off-the-shelf’
“Bitching!”
I screamed into the crisp clean heavens
realizing in the aftermath of my organic display of emotion
my need to be forgiven
Immediately I began to chastise
my lame uncouthness
but, being only a hank of hair and piece of bone
thinking me free from error is, like so, beyond useless
[b]Snow Angel.[/b]
A pale face glistening in the window.
"It's snowing!"
The stars have sprinkled across the still sky;
as the snow has fallen to the frozen ground.
A young voice filled with joy.
"Mother may i go play?'
The pail face gets bundled up, and set a fly;
as the roads have filled with ice .
A child only dreamin of snow angles.
"MOMMY!"
The driver begging the car to miss the pink bundle.
As a car loses it tracks;
A snow angel is sent to fly.
A pale face glistening in the window.
"It's snowing!"
The stars have sprinkled across the still sky;
as the snow has fallen to the frozen ground.
A young voice filled with joy.
"Mother may i go play?'
The pail face gets bundled up, and set a fly;
as the roads have filled with ice .
A child only dreamin of snow angles.
"MOMMY!"
The driver begging the car to miss the pink bundle.
As a car loses it tracks;
A snow angel is sent to fly.
