Poetry competition CLOSED 27th June 2013 8:44pm
WINNER
case28 (Alexander Case)
case28 (Alexander Case)
RUNNER-UP:
LobodeSanPedro
Dark City
I'm not entering this one Atakti, because it placed in a recent comp, but I'd be grateful if you would consider it for publication in that there magazine, Cheers, missus
Harlequin
The bell tower in the old church
rang out stupid-o'clock in the morning
and I was falling up the street towards somewhere familiar
half empty bottle of Jameson and a shot glass
tucked into my jacket pocket
this part of town
had long since settled down into chaos
with blood on the streets, whores winking at passers by
and packs of jackals roaming around
hunting down the old, the lame and the wounded
I'd found this place some weeks ago
after falling up the street at stupid-o'clock in the morning
gotten jumped from behind, no warning
and woken up to see my blood on the street
it was then, I heard her, christ; what a voice she had
sent the hairs on my neck to standing
almost put colour to the dreary black and grey backdrop
of burned out cars and boarded up windows
then she turned the bow in her hand towards her cello
played a song that'd have the hardest bastard haunted for a lifetime
a song of pennies and fortunes, of puffs and powders, lusts and temptation
of her, bare breasted, standing over a dead man
without a tear in her eye, because she could not cry for someone
who needed death as much as a cloud needs water
and I sat there through all her songs
'til the last one, Harlequin, where something deep within
clicked into place, and she knew; because she'd stopped
and in the silence, her face had brightened
she stood up, brushed down her nightgown, picked up her cello
turned to go, and whispered "y'know ..I'll be here; same time tomorrow"
then I went falling back up the town, past the skinny tom cats
that had gathered around a fish supper
dropped by some drunkard
who'd needed her hands to hold her hair away from the vomit
pooling on her lap
past the old train-tracks, to my part of town
the cul-de-sac with fifteen four bedroom houses and fifteen neat brown garden sheds
I went to bed and lay down, pretended not to notice all the signs
scattered around the room
the empty pill bottle, broken mirror, and blood stained clothes on the floor
that screamed
another episode had occurred
Harlequin
The bell tower in the old church
rang out stupid-o'clock in the morning
and I was falling up the street towards somewhere familiar
half empty bottle of Jameson and a shot glass
tucked into my jacket pocket
this part of town
had long since settled down into chaos
with blood on the streets, whores winking at passers by
and packs of jackals roaming around
hunting down the old, the lame and the wounded
I'd found this place some weeks ago
after falling up the street at stupid-o'clock in the morning
gotten jumped from behind, no warning
and woken up to see my blood on the street
it was then, I heard her, christ; what a voice she had
sent the hairs on my neck to standing
almost put colour to the dreary black and grey backdrop
of burned out cars and boarded up windows
then she turned the bow in her hand towards her cello
played a song that'd have the hardest bastard haunted for a lifetime
a song of pennies and fortunes, of puffs and powders, lusts and temptation
of her, bare breasted, standing over a dead man
without a tear in her eye, because she could not cry for someone
who needed death as much as a cloud needs water
and I sat there through all her songs
'til the last one, Harlequin, where something deep within
clicked into place, and she knew; because she'd stopped
and in the silence, her face had brightened
she stood up, brushed down her nightgown, picked up her cello
turned to go, and whispered "y'know ..I'll be here; same time tomorrow"
then I went falling back up the town, past the skinny tom cats
that had gathered around a fish supper
dropped by some drunkard
who'd needed her hands to hold her hair away from the vomit
pooling on her lap
past the old train-tracks, to my part of town
the cul-de-sac with fifteen four bedroom houses and fifteen neat brown garden sheds
I went to bed and lay down, pretended not to notice all the signs
scattered around the room
the empty pill bottle, broken mirror, and blood stained clothes on the floor
that screamed
another episode had occurred
Why plant a tree in Chicago
Whose job is this
To urinate in every corner of this city
Not one spot missed
Employee of the month for sure
The Ethos compared to other cities
Is the smelly kid in class
A Metropolis marinated
In a potpourri of
dumpster sludge
Rat fecal matter
And cotton candy
A petri dish of humanity
Or the lack there of
Contained by suburbs
A Army of Germaphobe's couldn't clean her
A city wide fire now would burn for years
The fish come to the river surface
as if to say "please kill me now"
Paint swatches match filth
Every honking horn
Represents anger
Pedestrians of Chicago
Invented Angry Birds
Thrown at cabdrivers
And each other
By the time a raindrop falls through
It's resembles Ink
Ink used for signs on cardboard
"Help me find a vein"
The sober and the junkie think the same
The higher you get from this place
The better off you are
Don't make eye contact
But I do
We both have the same look
How can you live like this
I walk
Building's like scabs on skin
Smaller on the outside
Taller in its center
Peel it
It grows bigger
Scrape and rape
I walk
Children playing
With a newly aborted fetus
At least a they gave it a name
They call it "Ball"
I walk
A 23-year-old grandmother
Discovers Jesus in a fetal position
Nursing from a bottle
Under a highway underpass
Being stepped on
By religious fanatics
Praying to the Virgin Mary
Stained on the concrete
From subway and pigeon droppings
I walk
2 million cases of
Stockholm Syndrome
Tell themselves lie after lie
One large glory hole
No face and nothing personal
Just get your business done
And leave the floors sticky
I walk
Eyeballs of racial injustice
from the bus stop bench
Hit me hard
Don't roll that chip
on your shoulder onto me
black man
I got for you some good news & bad news
Good news you're just like me
Bad news you're just like me
I walk
Two beat cops approach
Buttons screaming for life on there chest
Quizzing each other on effective racial slurs
They will be holding seminars
Teaching other cops from the country
How to reach their true asshole potential
A honest hard-working man they see
So I RUN
Whose job is this
To urinate in every corner of this city
Not one spot missed
Employee of the month for sure
The Ethos compared to other cities
Is the smelly kid in class
A Metropolis marinated
In a potpourri of
dumpster sludge
Rat fecal matter
And cotton candy
A petri dish of humanity
Or the lack there of
Contained by suburbs
A Army of Germaphobe's couldn't clean her
A city wide fire now would burn for years
The fish come to the river surface
as if to say "please kill me now"
Paint swatches match filth
Every honking horn
Represents anger
Pedestrians of Chicago
Invented Angry Birds
Thrown at cabdrivers
And each other
By the time a raindrop falls through
It's resembles Ink
Ink used for signs on cardboard
"Help me find a vein"
The sober and the junkie think the same
The higher you get from this place
The better off you are
Don't make eye contact
But I do
We both have the same look
How can you live like this
I walk
Building's like scabs on skin
Smaller on the outside
Taller in its center
Peel it
It grows bigger
Scrape and rape
I walk
Children playing
With a newly aborted fetus
At least a they gave it a name
They call it "Ball"
I walk
A 23-year-old grandmother
Discovers Jesus in a fetal position
Nursing from a bottle
Under a highway underpass
Being stepped on
By religious fanatics
Praying to the Virgin Mary
Stained on the concrete
From subway and pigeon droppings
I walk
2 million cases of
Stockholm Syndrome
Tell themselves lie after lie
One large glory hole
No face and nothing personal
Just get your business done
And leave the floors sticky
I walk
Eyeballs of racial injustice
from the bus stop bench
Hit me hard
Don't roll that chip
on your shoulder onto me
black man
I got for you some good news & bad news
Good news you're just like me
Bad news you're just like me
I walk
Two beat cops approach
Buttons screaming for life on there chest
Quizzing each other on effective racial slurs
They will be holding seminars
Teaching other cops from the country
How to reach their true asshole potential
A honest hard-working man they see
So I RUN
"Dampened Streets"
The streets are filled with broken spirits that harbor fates that can't see their worth; never pouring into the seeds that yearn to know the reason why they cant earn what they deserve.
Dreams that once were bright as day are now dampened by the pouring rain; but the city lights provide temporary release from the endless grief, and abiding pain.
Limitations are common-place, and make society go to war with mediocrity; for no earthy being will choose to believe that their cause is to be ordinary.
Traveling mindsets that have come to be what many accept as insanity; yet embracing the cause that the city has given, and proving the unforgiven can still claim victory.
The streets are filled with broken spirits that harbor fates that can't see their worth; never pouring into the seeds that yearn to know the reason why they cant earn what they deserve.
Dreams that once were bright as day are now dampened by the pouring rain; but the city lights provide temporary release from the endless grief, and abiding pain.
Limitations are common-place, and make society go to war with mediocrity; for no earthy being will choose to believe that their cause is to be ordinary.
Traveling mindsets that have come to be what many accept as insanity; yet embracing the cause that the city has given, and proving the unforgiven can still claim victory.
Stain
Streets painted in pearlescent
black
shimmer among the shiver
of blood covered tracks
raining down often
u
p
o
n
hubris of news
shared hidden dreams
amidst silver lined smog
choke within the throat
soon as spoken at all
Drones filter fodder for slaughter
taken by a promise better tomorrows
but dark city keeps
hold prison to dreams
you who sleep few indeed
keep one eye open free to see
shady dank dealings and your freedoms
seized
on by ton dark city screams
weight of patience turns to aging
no escape lifes listless lingering
shackled to a cloud
mist
of no beginning or ending
dark city creeps as the belly craw
realizing bleak is the peak
and thrall of its awe
you hear the beat but faced with a punch
leaning to scream but lungs are drowned out
by the din drips of bis
obsidians kiss
dark city stains
remains
engrained
Anonymous
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