Poetry competition CLOSED 28th June 2013 12:23pm
WINNER
lepperochan (CraicDealer)
lepperochan (CraicDealer)
RUNNERS-UP:
Pravus
and ElliotJBurns
Life
Poetry Contest Description
Write whatever this image compels you to write, any style or length
Anonymous
THAT COULD HAVE BEEN MY CHILD
That could have been my child
If life had gone the way I dreamed
Growing in my womb, the product of your seed
If we had not met so late in life
Life made other plans for us, but at least we met
Not having children is something I regret
We do not know what our children will turn out to be
Some are angels, other demons, some unhealthy
Life is a constant struggle, we know not what will happen
No child should be unwanted in an enlightened era
Yet we argue over choice or no-choice
The fetus has no choice in her choice of parents
Why do we not care about the welfare of the newborn
When we prevent abortion, a life can be ruined
When we permit abortion, it may be more kind than we imagine
I was not wanted and nothing could be done
Nobody consulted me about whether I should have been born
In retrospect, I wish I had never been born
You do not know my life story, so how can you tell someone
What choice is the best?
"Missing People Lost In The Bubble"
Open the window
blinding potential
the infinite state of hope
a future life beyond the sun
picture perfect existence an opportunity to live
the gift of life
the award of death
the curse of immortality
forever hovering never reaching life's award...
Open the window
blinding potential
the infinite state of hope
a future life beyond the sun
picture perfect existence an opportunity to live
the gift of life
the award of death
the curse of immortality
forever hovering never reaching life's award...
Loss
There is an infestation of cockroaches breeding in my mind
Gestating a new generation of insanity among the layers of hurt
And erratic emotions that come with the baby dreams
Of what was lost as it grew; loved in the warmth of a womb
Now a tomb, an unwanted bleeding monument
To the loss of life, hope; of a chance at motherhood
A rifle cocked, a trigger pulled, a rush of blood and agony
Where are the boys? Where are my boys? What went wrong?
When will we go hunting my love, when will we find an answer?
To justify death, the hollow void within me that could not carry on
And so extinguished the light, plunging my world, our world into darkness
My heart is empty though it beats its rhythmic pulse at my wrists
That I know my soul won’t bleed out of should I take to the sharps
And chase my boys into the long cold sleep of forever
Where I’d rather be, than here, alive, without them to love.
There is an infestation of cockroaches breeding in my mind
Gestating a new generation of insanity among the layers of hurt
And erratic emotions that come with the baby dreams
Of what was lost as it grew; loved in the warmth of a womb
Now a tomb, an unwanted bleeding monument
To the loss of life, hope; of a chance at motherhood
A rifle cocked, a trigger pulled, a rush of blood and agony
Where are the boys? Where are my boys? What went wrong?
When will we go hunting my love, when will we find an answer?
To justify death, the hollow void within me that could not carry on
And so extinguished the light, plunging my world, our world into darkness
My heart is empty though it beats its rhythmic pulse at my wrists
That I know my soul won’t bleed out of should I take to the sharps
And chase my boys into the long cold sleep of forever
Where I’d rather be, than here, alive, without them to love.
Sacred Water
enclosed in the warmth of sacred water
floating beside the placenta of the deep
he is corded to its magical growth formula
his knuckles touch, he enjoys blissful sleep
for nine months he'll swim in the sacred water
float around safely in the life sustaining womb
contently dreaming, hearing bubbles and heartbeats
contained comfortably till he grows out of leg room
his little world became much too confined to stay
the sacred water flowed out, helped show him the path
he followed the sacred water out, and into the world
people poked and prodded him then gave him a bath
he had been cut from this magical growth formula
and from the womb that held him so snug and tight
he was cold, hungry, tired, and crying very loud
and his eyes had trouble adjusting to the light
he meets his mommy and his daddy now
as they smile they are crying tears of joy
he is loved and snuggled and fed a warm breast
and they will give a name to this baby boy
he will live a long life, grow to be strong
live his days outside of the sacred water
one day he will become a father himself
be a daddy to a beautiful little daughter
enclosed in the warmth of sacred water
floating beside the placenta of the deep
he is corded to its magical growth formula
his knuckles touch, he enjoys blissful sleep
for nine months he'll swim in the sacred water
float around safely in the life sustaining womb
contently dreaming, hearing bubbles and heartbeats
contained comfortably till he grows out of leg room
his little world became much too confined to stay
the sacred water flowed out, helped show him the path
he followed the sacred water out, and into the world
people poked and prodded him then gave him a bath
he had been cut from this magical growth formula
and from the womb that held him so snug and tight
he was cold, hungry, tired, and crying very loud
and his eyes had trouble adjusting to the light
he meets his mommy and his daddy now
as they smile they are crying tears of joy
he is loved and snuggled and fed a warm breast
and they will give a name to this baby boy
he will live a long life, grow to be strong
live his days outside of the sacred water
one day he will become a father himself
be a daddy to a beautiful little daughter
Reincarnation
I was once true to the world
Someone wise, tall and strong
With visions of the future
That would last while I am gone
See I knew this wasn't it
The end of the line
I knew I would return
To the birthplace of my shrine
Now I am not a god to worship
I am not a man of peace
I am reincarnation
A boy of hope and dreams
I was once true to the world
Someone wise, tall and strong
With visions of the future
That would last while I am gone
See I knew this wasn't it
The end of the line
I knew I would return
To the birthplace of my shrine
Now I am not a god to worship
I am not a man of peace
I am reincarnation
A boy of hope and dreams
Anonymous
A Father to my Mother
At birth I was yellow
The nurses called me
The Neon Crayon
And we were both sick for a year
I was raised in an apartment,
Raised in tattoo parties
Hearing those needles buzz
While you all were buzzed
As I probably was
When you’d give me
Bud in my sippy-cup
So I could sleep and not wake up
Besides his and your loud voices
I remember all the bumps
All the fights no child should see,
Am I right?
But in my sight they were there
And when you parents split
I colored the walls and pulled my hair,
I only had two eyelashes that cared
And two bald spots because I was scared
Then came when you chose a guy
And his drug, and I was like nothing,
Maybe a rug, or was I a bug?
Did you think that of me?
Years ago still I can feel
I haven’t yet been freed
From when you squashed me,
I never thought the same hand
That cradled me as a parent
Would ball up as a fist
And strike me so violent.
Let’s go, mom,
Let’s talk about today
About your son who smokes packs away
And panics over you, everyday
Hovering over you while you sleep
Under burn holes and sadness
Smelling cheap shit whenever
You talk and watching you
Hold on to walls as you walk,
Standing half naked in your room
Dancing to grandpa’s old CD’s crying,
Constantly reminded in your face
The time you drank yourself away
Lying on the stairs dying
Mom, are you my child?
Are you stuck as a teen
Drinking and drugging going wild?
I’m like a father to my mother,
A worrier, a warrior of worry
I hope you see what you've done to me.
At birth I was yellow
The nurses called me
The Neon Crayon
And we were both sick for a year
I was raised in an apartment,
Raised in tattoo parties
Hearing those needles buzz
While you all were buzzed
As I probably was
When you’d give me
Bud in my sippy-cup
So I could sleep and not wake up
Besides his and your loud voices
I remember all the bumps
All the fights no child should see,
Am I right?
But in my sight they were there
And when you parents split
I colored the walls and pulled my hair,
I only had two eyelashes that cared
And two bald spots because I was scared
Then came when you chose a guy
And his drug, and I was like nothing,
Maybe a rug, or was I a bug?
Did you think that of me?
Years ago still I can feel
I haven’t yet been freed
From when you squashed me,
I never thought the same hand
That cradled me as a parent
Would ball up as a fist
And strike me so violent.
Let’s go, mom,
Let’s talk about today
About your son who smokes packs away
And panics over you, everyday
Hovering over you while you sleep
Under burn holes and sadness
Smelling cheap shit whenever
You talk and watching you
Hold on to walls as you walk,
Standing half naked in your room
Dancing to grandpa’s old CD’s crying,
Constantly reminded in your face
The time you drank yourself away
Lying on the stairs dying
Mom, are you my child?
Are you stuck as a teen
Drinking and drugging going wild?
I’m like a father to my mother,
A worrier, a warrior of worry
I hope you see what you've done to me.
I would like to apologize in advance for how the writing may come across. I am in a very dark mood and the only thing that gets me out of this type of mood is writing or another dangerous release. When in this mood and I write it is usually dark and insensitive.
-The Truth-
Life
Supposed to be the best gift we are given
A new life
A new beginning
A new story
But as it happens to be
We are chosen to fail
Forced to lead mundane lives
The laughing stock of the universe
We are set up to fail
There is nothing new
No new life
No new beginning
No new story
Merely a series of rediscoveries
A redo on life without knowledge of a second chance
A chapter rewritten
A series of unfortunate event that led to the truth
We are not what we seem
We do not have free will
Everything is predetermined
Nothing is as it seems
-The Truth-
Life
Supposed to be the best gift we are given
A new life
A new beginning
A new story
But as it happens to be
We are chosen to fail
Forced to lead mundane lives
The laughing stock of the universe
We are set up to fail
There is nothing new
No new life
No new beginning
No new story
Merely a series of rediscoveries
A redo on life without knowledge of a second chance
A chapter rewritten
A series of unfortunate event that led to the truth
We are not what we seem
We do not have free will
Everything is predetermined
Nothing is as it seems
I'll swim faster next time...
There is a saying amongst the un born.
" at least we go to heaven"
Fuck that I say.
I wanna taste the flesh of other beings.
I wanna snort powder.
I wanna wage war.
I wanna have a Fenway frank.
I wanna fall in love.
I wanna write bad poetry.
I wanna have beautiful eyes.
I wanna die.
I wanna live.
I want.
& it'll be worth it.
There is a saying amongst the un born.
" at least we go to heaven"
Fuck that I say.
I wanna taste the flesh of other beings.
I wanna snort powder.
I wanna wage war.
I wanna have a Fenway frank.
I wanna fall in love.
I wanna write bad poetry.
I wanna have beautiful eyes.
I wanna die.
I wanna live.
I want.
& it'll be worth it.
Pravus said:I would like to apologize in advance for how the writing may come across. I am in a very dark mood and the only thing that gets me out of this type of mood is writing or another dangerous release. When in this mood and I write it is usually dark and insensitive.
-The Truth-
Life
Supposed to be the best gift we are given
A new life
A new beginning
A new story
But as it happens to be
We are chosen to fail
Forced to lead mundane lives
The laughing stock of the universe
We are set up to fail
There is nothing new
No new life
No new beginning
No new story
Merely a series of rediscoveries
A redo on life without knowledge of a second chance
A chapter rewritten
A series of unfortunate event that led to the truth
We are not what we seem
We do not have free will
Everything is predetermined
Nothing is as it seems
Great entry Pravus thank you.....it's cool you are free to write whatever you want, fuck apologising for it.
-The Truth-
Life
Supposed to be the best gift we are given
A new life
A new beginning
A new story
But as it happens to be
We are chosen to fail
Forced to lead mundane lives
The laughing stock of the universe
We are set up to fail
There is nothing new
No new life
No new beginning
No new story
Merely a series of rediscoveries
A redo on life without knowledge of a second chance
A chapter rewritten
A series of unfortunate event that led to the truth
We are not what we seem
We do not have free will
Everything is predetermined
Nothing is as it seems
Great entry Pravus thank you.....it's cool you are free to write whatever you want, fuck apologising for it.
