PICK YOUR POISON

No limit on words.

Poetic license on style.  

Collaborations accepted (both poets will get credit if selected as the winner).

Two entries per poet.

Good luck to everyone.

http://www.deviantart.com/download/145374648/judgement_day_by_gutku.jpg

Definitely gonna be back with something for this! And quite possibly
that something will be my ticket to hell or lead to death by a divinely sent lightning bolt!

Oh I like this. I will write for this but not as part of the comp..

First stripping me
They hollowed me
Gutting me
I knew them as hungry hunters
Hatted with hate
Irked by intervention outside their bony bodies
Their tattered trousers and toothless pleased grimaces stank of shit
Partnered to two pairs of melting dark under-eyes I imagined stained from tears of tar
Wilderness must have won them
Stagnancy soiling only their liberty
Before they even approached I angered them by anticipating atrocity
The air was electric
Even hot words would have crackled it
But what an opportunity!
To teach remorse in this thick
Specimen sure of sacrificial service
Pain forgot to thank me today for being
I think it due to blinding anguish felt only for them
I first thought it because there was nothing there
Faith flickered
Not of who I was or what I was
What they were
Contact without a whimper or squirm disturbed those once devoid pillagers
My entrails encased the entire encampment
Misting a magnificent maple
Fanning fertility in return
Darkening my dismal diary and weapons I claimed for tools
Splattering maroon misery through my tantalizing teeth that I made sure they saw through my parabolic lips
Humiliating their haggish hurt
No
I did not even attempt scoring them with a scratch
They would bleed too as I construe
Self-affliction is relative
They pull pain behind them to agitate their ankles and give a gussy gait
But they fear confronting this convoy directly
They sought infliction to me to adrenalize their gaping chests where their misdirected hearts should have hummed
Those that recover my remnants will recall them restlessly
Ah
Not as infinitely internal as the lesson branded into those bigots that binds as bangles
They will continue to destroy that which displeases
Just now knowing nothing will ever please them
Much more fatal than flushed lovers and brothers

Son Of The Morning

Here you stand, whimpering anticipation
And here I stand, me and mine standing free
Free from the shackles of your superiority
Even if this day should be my last, know I never let a foot rest upon my neck

Never let anyone convince me I was inferior, or let myself be cowed
You let yourselves begrudge your very existence, as if that gift was untainted with ulterior motives

Who said 'Live your life as you grovel to repay my gifts of pain''
You call me the father of lies, what lies have i told to deserve the name?
Did I claim to be malevolent, did I lay claim to titles of supreme mercy and glory?

Yet show no mercy on the innocent, or on the good
It was not me who made sure an act of kindness will always be repaid with grief
Nor was it I who claimed that things I take away were always 'gifts'

I do not cut a finger from your hand to reclaim something supposedly mine
While extolling my own virtues for lending it to you
If you were born without the finger you would not have felt the pain of its loss

What use is free will if what we are free to choose will be judged in eternal blood?
If even the ones he loves die drenched in blood and pain
And all for what, a promise of a better life, just become a martyr
Give up on the struggle, do not seek to better yourself, do not seek to end your suffering
Simply suffer in stoic prayer, and wail until he has his fill

Thus your saviour shall intervene!

And turn his back on you, as you lay down to die

What difference do you see in him and me?
Empty promises of help in return for the leash of the collar around your neck
That is one thing I have never sought to claim

Call me the father of lies. i know myself as son of the morning, I shone my light on ugly truths, I fathered none of the lies you tell yourself
Life is struggling, strife and ecstasy
Struggle and strife outnumber ecstasy, and so that balance will always be, all I have done is told you that your not truly free

Let me ask you pal what's the purse on this   I am new to site and do think you shouldn't an any be up on this. Put a nice size purse on this company and get inspired pall.

Chartered Love by Shawnelle Martineaux

They’ve been called many things.
Their coloured pasts and clouded futures merge,
To meet the needs of the hungry ones who come to feast.

Nightly battles with the ever present possibility
That some so called prince charming would see it fit to stop by
And deliver his deepest and most dreadful secrets,
Murdering souls on end with his lust and his need to be
Fed.

See them in their droves.
Like brute beasts borrowing time,
Their tie clips glistening in the moonlight;
Their jackets offering temporary warmth to the daughters of mammon.

Oh if he could smell the perfume that is her soul.
He would understand that she cries for love.
He would know that Jamaal left her for a chance at life
When she told him.
And that that day Garry showed up and consoled her
In the deepest way possible
And that deep connection faded
When she told him,
Then Derek showed up promising to take them all and start a home,
Until she told him too.

He would understand that she was making fares long before she started on these streets.
Paying the dear price of her soul to feed her soul which she lost to Jamaal’s hands,
Way before the time she had begun to tell.
He would understand and he would cry too.

But instead of understanding and knowing,
He drinks her tears to quench
His thirst.
He drinks her tears
To revive himself from the desert that is his day at the office.
He drinks her tears and eats her away
Every time.






What price can she be paid for her soul?
Mere dollars and cents for an hour of her time?
They both know they rob each other.
He pays to feel a soul’s touch his with scanty change.
She knows she has no soul to give him in exchange.

See them in their droves.
Like brute beasts borrowing time,
Their tie clips glistening in the moonlight;
Their jackets offering temporary warmth to the daughters of mammon as they climb

Climb her and break her branches.
Rip her leaves away like autumn.
Remind her that the cold is near.
Make her forget that she is a cedar

I see them every night.
The corpse revival on every corner in the city
Dead men walking, dead men driving, dead men still dying
Those whose thirsts never quench,
Whose hungers only grow
And whose cries only get louder and sharper.

I think of the unhappy people they are;
The unhappy girl that was trapped in the daughter I had become.
I see how the files have been piled on his heart and have made it heavy.
How her face has been snatched from her as she had nothing to give him for his money.
The scorners’ eyes as they salvage their last ounce respect they possess to keep a straight face.
I see them and cry because I know that every daughter of mammon is lost among the jeans.
I cry because they are still people,
But broken ones.
I cry because the hungry men will never find peace
But shall always steal it from someone else.
I cry for my sisters remembering how I could have been if it wasn’t for the life
That found me.
I still try to find them.
Hunger no more.
Thirst no more.
Cry no more.
Yes, you have been called many things by many people.
But you shall be called loved by one.

Fellow poets,

Be back with a winner soon...lots of great poems to peruse!

Strider :D

Poets~

I appreciate you for entering a poem in my competition.  There was a close second for the Trophy.  

Congratulations to Kou Indigo and the Runner-Ups.  And to everyone, keep writing your hearts out!

Happy New Year,

Strider :)

I was going to write a poem inspired by this comp and not enter it.  I forgot about it though.  Maybe I still will. :)

Magdalena said:I was going to write a poem inspired by this comp and not enter it.  I forgot about it though.  Maybe I still will. :)

Go for it....;)

It was a great contest, Strider! I am honored to have been chosen as the winner. Congratulations to the runners-up, who penned some memorable poetry. See everyone next contest!