Poetry competition CLOSED 22nd January 2013 9:53pm
WINNER
rayheinrich (Death Plane for Teddy)
rayheinrich (Death Plane for Teddy)
RUNNERS-UP:
Grace
and MrAlptraum
CH...CH...CH...CHANGE(S)
Anonymous
Poetry Contest Description
Write in poetic form something you could change if you could. Other people, place(s), or thing(s). Perhaps something about yourself.
Typo found above...the first "could" should be "would."
Two entries maximum.
Collaborations welcome (credit will be split).
Any length, any style.
Good Luck!
Strider
[Invalid Image - URL must end with jpeg, jpg, gif, png or bmp]
Two entries maximum.
Collaborations welcome (credit will be split).
Any length, any style.
Good Luck!
Strider
[Invalid Image - URL must end with jpeg, jpg, gif, png or bmp]
Coming Home
Dirt slaps eyes
the air sizzles
impossible makeshift houses
lean and creak in the wind
Children lay hands
over swollen bellies
all with the same listless stare
some even smile
mercilessly unraveling your heart
their bones scream for flesh
as death dabs his eau de cologne
without a word
The strongest
cling to the choke of your footsteps
examining your spoor in the dust
with the hope you may bring something
anything
even a worn out rag
would be riches to fight for
but you know you have nothing more
and they cannot feed on hope
or a cliche handful of rice forever
Now coming home
has another meaning
turning the key to a different world
where suddenly you feel dirtier
than the flies
and every time you turn a tap
or switch on a light
there they are--
feasting on guilt
in a corner of your yard.
Dirt slaps eyes
the air sizzles
impossible makeshift houses
lean and creak in the wind
Children lay hands
over swollen bellies
all with the same listless stare
some even smile
mercilessly unraveling your heart
their bones scream for flesh
as death dabs his eau de cologne
without a word
The strongest
cling to the choke of your footsteps
examining your spoor in the dust
with the hope you may bring something
anything
even a worn out rag
would be riches to fight for
but you know you have nothing more
and they cannot feed on hope
or a cliche handful of rice forever
Now coming home
has another meaning
turning the key to a different world
where suddenly you feel dirtier
than the flies
and every time you turn a tap
or switch on a light
there they are--
feasting on guilt
in a corner of your yard.
Change in the Wind
Absolved of his crime of rape
Blameless for his actions of womanly hate
Criminal, he will never be called
Debauchery within this male dominated society,
giving license, where the protectors are, themselves, the perpetrators
Evolution will be these men down fall, when mothers, daughters, sisters and girls unite.
Feminist power will rule in the end, just you wait.
Guiltless no more, courts believing she tempted them
Hatred of the womb will be their only defense.
Immoral are you, who wallow in this sin
Justice will have its day; women power will rule
for I feel there is a change in the wind.
Absolved of his crime of rape
Blameless for his actions of womanly hate
Criminal, he will never be called
Debauchery within this male dominated society,
giving license, where the protectors are, themselves, the perpetrators
Evolution will be these men down fall, when mothers, daughters, sisters and girls unite.
Feminist power will rule in the end, just you wait.
Guiltless no more, courts believing she tempted them
Hatred of the womb will be their only defense.
Immoral are you, who wallow in this sin
Justice will have its day; women power will rule
for I feel there is a change in the wind.
Hey, Strider! Awesome David Bowie pic you put up there. Too crazy sexy cool! I loved Bowie's "Androgynous Alien" phase, and his "Labyrinth" Goblin King look too. Gotta love the days when rock was all about the glam as much as the music! 
Anyhoooo, here's my first entry for this contest:
- Love, Reinvented -
If I were given the fair mantle of goddess of love,
By all the divines who reign from heavens above…
I would make of love a finer thing, more glorious,
So that it would make lovers sing out, uproarious!
Imagine if lovers could merge their very spirits too.
And know ecstasies that much greater, more true,
Than any humankind has imagined in poetic verse.
Imagine love undying, never fading for the worse…
But growing more magical, with each kiss shared,
Lending the heart strength so it cannot be scared!
And that is but the beginning of my blessings kind,
I would make love truly free for every soul to find.
No soul to be lonely, but every heart fully paired…
Knowing love eternal, with not a pleasure spared!
The angels would rejoice at my creation so lovely,
And all humanity would be granted angelic beauty.
Death would be undone, so love could so endure,
Without age to take from us, those we love sure…
No longer, would passion be solely to create life.
I would make of it an art, and with it end all strife!
No need for jealousy if love is the birthright of all,
And no need for guilt when lust leads none to fall.
I would make lust a virtue, with love as its’ guide,
With not a wickedness to taint it or within it abide.
We would all be as gods then, each in a paradise,
With no boundaries or barriers, nor society’s lies!
If two hearts be in love, even if the same gender…
I would bless their union, and make it the grander.
We need not the limits that are imposed so cruel…
By those who invent “morals” they use like a fool!
Let love be our law, and let life take its’ courses…
Leaving us to live life fully, marveling at its’ forces.
If I could reinvent love I would do all this so well,
That love would redeem even the damned in Hell.
This is the blessing I would bestow upon creation,
If I were a powerful goddess, of love and elation!
Anyhoooo, here's my first entry for this contest: - Love, Reinvented -
If I were given the fair mantle of goddess of love,
By all the divines who reign from heavens above…
I would make of love a finer thing, more glorious,
So that it would make lovers sing out, uproarious!
Imagine if lovers could merge their very spirits too.
And know ecstasies that much greater, more true,
Than any humankind has imagined in poetic verse.
Imagine love undying, never fading for the worse…
But growing more magical, with each kiss shared,
Lending the heart strength so it cannot be scared!
And that is but the beginning of my blessings kind,
I would make love truly free for every soul to find.
No soul to be lonely, but every heart fully paired…
Knowing love eternal, with not a pleasure spared!
The angels would rejoice at my creation so lovely,
And all humanity would be granted angelic beauty.
Death would be undone, so love could so endure,
Without age to take from us, those we love sure…
No longer, would passion be solely to create life.
I would make of it an art, and with it end all strife!
No need for jealousy if love is the birthright of all,
And no need for guilt when lust leads none to fall.
I would make lust a virtue, with love as its’ guide,
With not a wickedness to taint it or within it abide.
We would all be as gods then, each in a paradise,
With no boundaries or barriers, nor society’s lies!
If two hearts be in love, even if the same gender…
I would bless their union, and make it the grander.
We need not the limits that are imposed so cruel…
By those who invent “morals” they use like a fool!
Let love be our law, and let life take its’ courses…
Leaving us to live life fully, marveling at its’ forces.
If I could reinvent love I would do all this so well,
That love would redeem even the damned in Hell.
This is the blessing I would bestow upon creation,
If I were a powerful goddess, of love and elation!
She'd sit there straight backed,
glasses hanging off the bridge
of her nose
as she loses her head in the local silage
splayed over the coffee-table.
The sun would peck at her eyes through the window
but she'd leave the curtains open;
the coffee and sun would congest the room
with her morning.
I'd make remarks, and mock the paper
to distract her. Show her the world
didn't care if she cares
and I was the wasp in the sun
knowing the nectar in her pale skin
would furl my tongue.
Her spilling-flesh never tasted the same
in the dark
or the dreary, gypsy clouds.
Wish I loved her like she loved me
and that her cunt hadn't swallowed
a chunk of my soul; a chunk
just big enough to make me wish.
She's somewhere
commuting
between the undergrounds
with kinder men reading the front of her paper,
admiring the bloom
whose eyes smudge their faces
with the morning print.
glasses hanging off the bridge
of her nose
as she loses her head in the local silage
splayed over the coffee-table.
The sun would peck at her eyes through the window
but she'd leave the curtains open;
the coffee and sun would congest the room
with her morning.
I'd make remarks, and mock the paper
to distract her. Show her the world
didn't care if she cares
and I was the wasp in the sun
knowing the nectar in her pale skin
would furl my tongue.
Her spilling-flesh never tasted the same
in the dark
or the dreary, gypsy clouds.
Wish I loved her like she loved me
and that her cunt hadn't swallowed
a chunk of my soul; a chunk
just big enough to make me wish.
She's somewhere
commuting
between the undergrounds
with kinder men reading the front of her paper,
admiring the bloom
whose eyes smudge their faces
with the morning print.
Changes
See the world through flame colored glasses
Tear drops fall slower than molasses
Heed the autumn leaves
Falling off the trees at different speeds
Bald branches left standing in a desolate state
Similar to positions people take
Pandemonium awaits
Was it love or hate?
Who drew the line?
Within my eyes are the heartless cries
Cheerlessness lie
Not of my own
But the malformed faces
Gratuitous loans
Are the now owed payments
Charity had vanquished
Everybody's stuck on helping themselves
Abandoned all the empathy like it was left on the steps
A light white sea breeze paints a picture
No costs to be free
Its the mentality that gets ya
See the world through flame colored glasses
Tear drops fall slower than molasses
Heed the autumn leaves
Falling off the trees at different speeds
Bald branches left standing in a desolate state
Similar to positions people take
Pandemonium awaits
Was it love or hate?
Who drew the line?
Within my eyes are the heartless cries
Cheerlessness lie
Not of my own
But the malformed faces
Gratuitous loans
Are the now owed payments
Charity had vanquished
Everybody's stuck on helping themselves
Abandoned all the empathy like it was left on the steps
A light white sea breeze paints a picture
No costs to be free
Its the mentality that gets ya
Obituary of a dreamer.
====
no matter how much i ache
you'll still be dead
so i'll do the best for my sake
and dream in this bed
Why go outside
and face the dread
when i can lay to sleep
and dream instead
the closest i'll get
is to dream of you
and i understand
that thats the truth
but i can spend a million nights
with dreaming ensued
dreaming dreams of our lives
but mainly dreaming of you
====
no matter how much i ache
you'll still be dead
so i'll do the best for my sake
and dream in this bed
Why go outside
and face the dread
when i can lay to sleep
and dream instead
the closest i'll get
is to dream of you
and i understand
that thats the truth
but i can spend a million nights
with dreaming ensued
dreaming dreams of our lives
but mainly dreaming of you
An unvoiced creature unfastens their lips to
release pressurized shrieks of joy.
Once contained by my impassive wooden skull
now struggles airborne, breaking the glass;
and pulling the lever.
Warning bells wrestle with the emptiness,
chaotically bonding to become one.
Uniting dreams, into dreams,
into significance.
The instant when change clicked
into its righteous place,
a handful of heartfelt hopefuls
screamed “Hallelujah”.
The oceanic crust is rotating,
the world's moral ground is shaking.
They asked me once-upon-a-time,
what I would change if I could.
I answered with inferno in my eyes,
and the truth trembling on the
tapering tip of my tongue;
“I would like to change our world
into the universe behind my irises”.
release pressurized shrieks of joy.
Once contained by my impassive wooden skull
now struggles airborne, breaking the glass;
and pulling the lever.
Warning bells wrestle with the emptiness,
chaotically bonding to become one.
Uniting dreams, into dreams,
into significance.
The instant when change clicked
into its righteous place,
a handful of heartfelt hopefuls
screamed “Hallelujah”.
The oceanic crust is rotating,
the world's moral ground is shaking.
They asked me once-upon-a-time,
what I would change if I could.
I answered with inferno in my eyes,
and the truth trembling on the
tapering tip of my tongue;
“I would like to change our world
into the universe behind my irises”.
Changes
Paddy terraced on the hills
a green so deep and yet so still
hot the sun during harvest time
no time to play or dream
of laughter, leisure and good times
I wish I was so filthy rich
and have someone do the job for me
The sea that mirrors azure skies
yet could boil in deadly rage
With coils of waves so high
that the brave stay along the shore
thinking of loss from fishing
for dinner and coffer
wishing he has a larger trawler
The forest, gigantic trees
gazetted as a park by those who knows
to conserve nature at its best
yet hunter looks with longing
to hunt that fat wild boar
for his growing family
No meat the dinner table show, just wild potatoes
Change the life, if only we can
of needy people who live off the land
paddy planters, the fisherman, the hunter
Just watching as life goes by
thriving for money only the rich can see
children ragged from unmet needs
changes we need, when will it be…
Paddy terraced on the hills
a green so deep and yet so still
hot the sun during harvest time
no time to play or dream
of laughter, leisure and good times
I wish I was so filthy rich
and have someone do the job for me
The sea that mirrors azure skies
yet could boil in deadly rage
With coils of waves so high
that the brave stay along the shore
thinking of loss from fishing
for dinner and coffer
wishing he has a larger trawler
The forest, gigantic trees
gazetted as a park by those who knows
to conserve nature at its best
yet hunter looks with longing
to hunt that fat wild boar
for his growing family
No meat the dinner table show, just wild potatoes
Change the life, if only we can
of needy people who live off the land
paddy planters, the fisherman, the hunter
Just watching as life goes by
thriving for money only the rich can see
children ragged from unmet needs
changes we need, when will it be…
http://wordbiscuit.com/images/83_Camaro.jpg
< mostly Country and Western >
Cheryl Wilkins
written across a box
in my attic
and in it a picture
of the 83 Camaro she loved
but nothing
about when
she took it to get groceries
about when
she stopped at that light
and that Ford pickup
its driver
drunk from one of those
long Texas roads
and nothing
about her three girls
or that second husband of hers
she never got along with
and who wasn't good for much
though it turned out
he was pretty good
at raising those girls
no
just some letters
stuff from her first husband
who ended up
a second lieutenant in Vietnam
and her cowgirl shirt
with its pearl snaps
and the sound they made
and a ring
won on the midway
at the Texas State Fair in Dallas
and how she wore it
all the time
even after its
red enamel heart
cracked
fell out
cheap thing
but you can still see
the impression it left
- - -
All alone fishing in the dark, still holding on to that same old spark. Longing for your kiss and deep blue eyes I will forever miss the way you touched and kissed my thighs . Holding your hands in mine our flesh connects for all of time. I taste your essence as you speak to my soul without making a sound I lose control .
This poem is about a soldier who comes home after fighting in a war with no meaning. He still struggles daily.
Because I'm John
The streetlamp is my home, because I'm John
The cold wind blows right through my bones
From place to place I like to roam.
Children on the pave, mither bad, but helps me through the day
A debt to my friend , I'm owe but I'm afraid I can't repay
this borrowed cigarette , for which my heart will leap and it will laugh.
Because I'm John
the streetlamp is my home, from place to place I like to roam,
the cold wind blows right through my bones .
The soldier crossed the sea, but now the maker wages war on me
but when your the vagrant, man, no one want's to know about such things
This heart is still so proud, of all the things a soldier once achieved
Because I'm John
In this dusty city with all the gods on the hill
will not one of them help us?
The temple which they built is an empty shell
Because I'm John
The streetlamp is my home, because I'm John
The cold wind blows right through my bones
From place to place I like to roam.
Children on the pave, mither bad, but helps me through the day
A debt to my friend , I'm owe but I'm afraid I can't repay
this borrowed cigarette , for which my heart will leap and it will laugh.
Because I'm John
the streetlamp is my home, from place to place I like to roam,
the cold wind blows right through my bones .
The soldier crossed the sea, but now the maker wages war on me
but when your the vagrant, man, no one want's to know about such things
This heart is still so proud, of all the things a soldier once achieved
Because I'm John
In this dusty city with all the gods on the hill
will not one of them help us?
The temple which they built is an empty shell
Because I'm John (Continued)
I find these days it's the only way I can survive
I steal to feed, I fight to breathe, through hunger, not greed.
What have I done in my life
is this the end when our two worlds collide .
I wonder sometimes, how so many could be so blind
the people who I see scurrying on the streets
oblivious to our needs.
Today I stole the colour from the heart of a rose
today I stole the sun from the sky
today I took the food from the hand of a starving child.
Is this the end when our two worlds collide
what have I done in my life.
Because I'm John
Guess that makes me a bad man.
I find these days it's the only way I can survive
I steal to feed, I fight to breathe, through hunger, not greed.
What have I done in my life
is this the end when our two worlds collide .
I wonder sometimes, how so many could be so blind
the people who I see scurrying on the streets
oblivious to our needs.
Today I stole the colour from the heart of a rose
today I stole the sun from the sky
today I took the food from the hand of a starving child.
Is this the end when our two worlds collide
what have I done in my life.
Because I'm John
Guess that makes me a bad man.
Anonymous
Fellow Poets,
It's going to be tough...some great stuff here....y'all don't make things easy on me...a winner soon, promise.
Strider :)
It's going to be tough...some great stuff here....y'all don't make things easy on me...a winner soon, promise.
Strider :)
