Poetry competition CLOSED 2nd November 2013 7:46pm
WINNER
lightbaron
lightbaron
RUNNERS-UP:
johnrot
and Mourningcloak
stay creepy x0x0
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/129300.jpg
Long eyelashes
beautifies her intense glare.
She makes you yearn
masochistic seduction,
flirting with fear.
Her hair is black
as intensive as her long dress.
Whether dead or alive,
she is bound to impress
Her eyes gleam red,
a total mystery to one's visual essence.
But she dominates the room,
with just the smell of her presence.
Her pale skin
almost to seems to shine,
If you look at her too long,
it's said you'll become blind.
Not a smile,
from her black painted lips.
A droplet of blood,
at the curve of her mouth,
unknowing slips.
And on a throne,
she comfortingly sits.
As the crows worship their Goddess,
in darkness equal bliss.
Queen, she might be,
no one knows for sure.
It's none of her evil grand beauty,
even in village folklore.
The witch of the crows,
Queen of beast.
She is acknowledge just by "Her"
because no one knows,
who she really is.
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/124595.jpg
She loved him.
That clothed white man.
She risked it all for him.
Why didn't he understand?
All he had was guns
and swords.
As if those would protect him,
from poison darts and more.
John Smith.
All he wanted was
indigenous pussy.
Got shot for fun,
so he could be taken back
and total excuse so cheesy.
On the night,
as he board the ship.
He felt some thing stick him,
right in the hip.
His eyes
became blurry,
and before he could scream
he fainted at the sight
of his thighs now bloody.
When he awoke,
our beloved Pocahuntas,
had tied him up.
Dominatrix style,
and had him cooped up,
in a hut.
"Who told you
you could leave?"
She asked.
"Your child,
I'm to conceive"
she said caressing him,
with an axe.
He was now a prey,
to the forest huntress.
He fucked her,
and planned to leave,
because of that, he's now her
slave, her mistress.
Gun
put a gun in my mouth
but didn't pull the trigger
with fear my lips trembled
and tears streamed down my face
across my mind the world flashed
brilliant colors of blue and green
swirling into shadows of black and grey
faces appear then spiral away
casting demon smiles
dashed by the shuffling madness
lights splash into my eyes
like liquid fire burning visions into my mind
hemorrhaging into my psyche
clots of reality clog my sanity
rational thoughts no longer flow
but are cast into the madness
lost forever within the shadows
the world happens... life runs... flows
twisting... turning and spinning
contorting itself into a sinister form of reality
life moves at an alarming rate
dashing here to there
turning itself inside out and back again
exposing its inner workings
the heart has a voice and it screams
silently sometimes bursting at the seems
thoughts have fluidity
acidic and corrosive
burning holes though the brain
the heart the emotions
clinging the soul and scorching the spirit
words have life... breathing
spitting poison in the face
of anyone who will listen
breathing fire upon ice
cold hearts turn molten only to freeze again
aching and frostbitten
scalded but still beating
the twisting darkness bores through my head
creating tunnels and paths that bleed
blood flows free
each new hole path or tunel
a memory that should be forgotten
a past that spits in the face of the present
poison that is absorbed... ingested
regurgitated and swallowed again
dissolving and devouring everything
tearing through... ripping and slashing
thoughts as sharp as razors
silent self destruction
put a gun in my mouth
but didn't pull the trigger
with fear my lips trembled
and tears streamed down my face
across my mind the world flashed
brilliant colors of blue and green
swirling into shadows of black and grey
faces appear then spiral away
casting demon smiles
dashed by the shuffling madness
lights splash into my eyes
like liquid fire burning visions into my mind
hemorrhaging into my psyche
clots of reality clog my sanity
rational thoughts no longer flow
but are cast into the madness
lost forever within the shadows
the world happens... life runs... flows
twisting... turning and spinning
contorting itself into a sinister form of reality
life moves at an alarming rate
dashing here to there
turning itself inside out and back again
exposing its inner workings
the heart has a voice and it screams
silently sometimes bursting at the seems
thoughts have fluidity
acidic and corrosive
burning holes though the brain
the heart the emotions
clinging the soul and scorching the spirit
words have life... breathing
spitting poison in the face
of anyone who will listen
breathing fire upon ice
cold hearts turn molten only to freeze again
aching and frostbitten
scalded but still beating
the twisting darkness bores through my head
creating tunnels and paths that bleed
blood flows free
each new hole path or tunel
a memory that should be forgotten
a past that spits in the face of the present
poison that is absorbed... ingested
regurgitated and swallowed again
dissolving and devouring everything
tearing through... ripping and slashing
thoughts as sharp as razors
silent self destruction
my suspicions are high
that if you ran sandpaper
across Morgan Freeman's face
the powder would taste of cinnamon
and brown sugar
gave a homeless man five bucks
and drove him to cop crack
I was mad at the city that night
and he had a duct tape cast
on his right leg
knew her name, and seen her pics
before I acted surprised
and accepted her friend request
the sweeter she seems, the stronger
I envision the particular tension
that the muscles around her anus
would provide to my tongue
my cock enjoys a few seconds of speculation
before I oddly assume that she likes it way more
than she lets on
confusing
and a turn off
I am fairly certain the term, "alien"
is a metaphor
that will materialize on a mass scale
in my lifetime
or sooner
it won't look like I'd like it to
that if you ran sandpaper
across Morgan Freeman's face
the powder would taste of cinnamon
and brown sugar
gave a homeless man five bucks
and drove him to cop crack
I was mad at the city that night
and he had a duct tape cast
on his right leg
knew her name, and seen her pics
before I acted surprised
and accepted her friend request
the sweeter she seems, the stronger
I envision the particular tension
that the muscles around her anus
would provide to my tongue
my cock enjoys a few seconds of speculation
before I oddly assume that she likes it way more
than she lets on
confusing
and a turn off
I am fairly certain the term, "alien"
is a metaphor
that will materialize on a mass scale
in my lifetime
or sooner
it won't look like I'd like it to
Deserted Heart
What apparition is this, that appeareth to me
In this swelteringly hot desolation?
It appears that her face is a shining oasis
A poor lonely travelers' salvation
But do I risk becoming bones
Amongst these dry foreboding stones
For something that may not actually be
But product of insanity?
Or do I keep on heading east
Through the paths of ravenous beasts
Who's gaping mouths and sharpened jaws
Lie waiting for my slightest pause?
Or do I make my journey west
In my hopes of finding rest
I'm hopelessly lost, I must confess
The truth is hardest to digest
Still I keep my steady tread
Though my feet may feel like led
There should be rest just up ahead
At least that's what the cactus said..
Reality is fading fast
And my mind is fleeing south
Thinking I found the fount at last
I shovel sand into my mouth
When the travelers heading north
See my bloated, sand filled corpse
They will stop, and they will start
To mourn for my deserted heart
What apparition is this, that appeareth to me
In this swelteringly hot desolation?
It appears that her face is a shining oasis
A poor lonely travelers' salvation
But do I risk becoming bones
Amongst these dry foreboding stones
For something that may not actually be
But product of insanity?
Or do I keep on heading east
Through the paths of ravenous beasts
Who's gaping mouths and sharpened jaws
Lie waiting for my slightest pause?
Or do I make my journey west
In my hopes of finding rest
I'm hopelessly lost, I must confess
The truth is hardest to digest
Still I keep my steady tread
Though my feet may feel like led
There should be rest just up ahead
At least that's what the cactus said..
Reality is fading fast
And my mind is fleeing south
Thinking I found the fount at last
I shovel sand into my mouth
When the travelers heading north
See my bloated, sand filled corpse
They will stop, and they will start
To mourn for my deserted heart
the votes are in.
somelikeithot : |||||
craic: |||||||
ataki: |||||||
jr: |||||||||||
dev: ||||||||
mourningcloak: ||||||||||||
hemi: |||||
madamelav: |||||||
dystopianmelody: ||||||||
vortexman: ||||||
ricky: |||||||
koreanghost: |||||||||||
case: |||||||||
psychopath: |
thepunisher: |
kittyfromhell: ||||
miki: ||||||
taylor: ||
sircreepy: ||
dennis: ||||||
13: ||
caxton: ||||||||||
darkerhalf: |||||
lb: |||||||||||||
ravenofsorrow: ||||||
so lightbaron, you won. heres how the scoring went if you entered more than one, i took the average of all your scores out of 10(from each judge and then added them). so the average quality of the work you entered is your score here. some notes for lb: not really creepy but the best written. dont let it get to your head.
for mourningcloak: all creep no stealth, that is, not the best style.
for jr: you have a better theo poem.
i hope thats sufficiently thorough and if you have any queries comments or complaints pm guest judge mr alptraum. the second judge has asked not to be named for political reasons.
somelikeithot : |||||
craic: |||||||
ataki: |||||||
jr: |||||||||||
dev: ||||||||
mourningcloak: ||||||||||||
hemi: |||||
madamelav: |||||||
dystopianmelody: ||||||||
vortexman: ||||||
ricky: |||||||
koreanghost: |||||||||||
case: |||||||||
psychopath: |
thepunisher: |
kittyfromhell: ||||
miki: ||||||
taylor: ||
sircreepy: ||
dennis: ||||||
13: ||
caxton: ||||||||||
darkerhalf: |||||
lb: |||||||||||||
ravenofsorrow: ||||||
so lightbaron, you won. heres how the scoring went if you entered more than one, i took the average of all your scores out of 10(from each judge and then added them). so the average quality of the work you entered is your score here. some notes for lb: not really creepy but the best written. dont let it get to your head.
for mourningcloak: all creep no stealth, that is, not the best style.
for jr: you have a better theo poem.
i hope thats sufficiently thorough and if you have any queries comments or complaints pm guest judge mr alptraum. the second judge has asked not to be named for political reasons.
Fair play LB, congrats you semi creepy fucker.
congrats morningcloak and JR
aww Anna, you gave me seven strokes, one stroke for the ego each day of the next week. I'm beginning to suspect that under that football factory persona, you're a lover of the baby Jesus and his folks. good on you Miss
congrats morningcloak and JR
aww Anna, you gave me seven strokes, one stroke for the ego each day of the next week. I'm beginning to suspect that under that football factory persona, you're a lover of the baby Jesus and his folks. good on you Miss
