Poetry competition CLOSED 28th March 2013 00:11am
WINNER
Atakti
Atakti
RUNNER-UP:
EngrVV
DESERT ISLAND
Weaving Hope
My fingers weave faster now, palm fibers into threads,
threads for weaving rope. I swipe at the forehead grime
and concentrate on the last knots. Every two days, I
prostate myself at the base of the waterfall, and wash
sins and sweat away. The vicious water-thriving insects
prevent my lingering in the aquatic Nirvana. It is there
I can forget the salt, a sea circle closing me in, keeping
me locked in to my threading thoughts, around and around.
On my lucky days, a stiff breeze blew the bloodsuckers
and biters away, and I could sit on the slick boulder, luxuriate
in the fine mist and think of you. A merciless void in my head
replaced how I got here, so I reflected further back, when
our time was ours alone. We threaded hopes into a future
we had yet to build. Now, my ragged nails pick and
readjust knots, dirt caught underneath and in the cracked
skin. My work is nearly done, and I ignore the overhead sun
in my haste to complete this. I know I have one last, freshwater
pilgrimage to make. I will return to this beach, clean and cleansed,
joyful. What I don’t know yet, is that you will be washed up
here, from the same, wicked waves. I will find you having undone
the noose I wove and lashing together wood for a raft.
My fingers weave faster now, palm fibers into threads,
threads for weaving rope. I swipe at the forehead grime
and concentrate on the last knots. Every two days, I
prostate myself at the base of the waterfall, and wash
sins and sweat away. The vicious water-thriving insects
prevent my lingering in the aquatic Nirvana. It is there
I can forget the salt, a sea circle closing me in, keeping
me locked in to my threading thoughts, around and around.
On my lucky days, a stiff breeze blew the bloodsuckers
and biters away, and I could sit on the slick boulder, luxuriate
in the fine mist and think of you. A merciless void in my head
replaced how I got here, so I reflected further back, when
our time was ours alone. We threaded hopes into a future
we had yet to build. Now, my ragged nails pick and
readjust knots, dirt caught underneath and in the cracked
skin. My work is nearly done, and I ignore the overhead sun
in my haste to complete this. I know I have one last, freshwater
pilgrimage to make. I will return to this beach, clean and cleansed,
joyful. What I don’t know yet, is that you will be washed up
here, from the same, wicked waves. I will find you having undone
the noose I wove and lashing together wood for a raft.
Anonymous
Ataki - beautiful poem....thank you for the submission....k
Anonymous
Island Dreaming
My flag flies high
in my deserted paradise
Serene and solitary
like these are my skies
A hammock hangs
in a driftwood shack
outdoor kitchen and a raft
out back
Nature serenades me
makes provisions for
my needs
I'm growing nearly everything
from a burlap sack of seeds
No phone, no stress
nowhere to be
seeing more was truly less
and that has set me free
Stretched out
on a hollowed log
Sipping mead from a bamboo cup
Animals lounging in picturesque ways
No way is this living rough
My flag flies high
in my deserted paradise
Serene and solitary
like these are my skies
A hammock hangs
in a driftwood shack
outdoor kitchen and a raft
out back
Nature serenades me
makes provisions for
my needs
I'm growing nearly everything
from a burlap sack of seeds
No phone, no stress
nowhere to be
seeing more was truly less
and that has set me free
Stretched out
on a hollowed log
Sipping mead from a bamboo cup
Animals lounging in picturesque ways
No way is this living rough
Anonymous
Miki - thank you for your wonderful submission!
Anonymous
COMPETITION: DESERT ISLAND
WINNER: Atakti
RUNNER-UP: EngrVV and mikimoondancer
POET LAUREATES: Grace and Jessica
WINNER: Atakti
RUNNER-UP: EngrVV and mikimoondancer
POET LAUREATES: Grace and Jessica
