Poetry competition CLOSED 25th January 2014 10:45am
WINNER
MrAlptraum (Mr A)
MrAlptraum (Mr A)
First impression (everybody)
Poetry Contest Description
Piggy backing that lovely young ladies comp
The "first impressions" comp was kind of ballsy, and opened up unexpected creative attitudes.... I would like to do this same thing, only every participant is up for grabs
to be an entrant, you must put your own beautiful mug into the profile pic... It can be staged, enhanced, or natural ... Fuck, give me a duck face of yourself .
Doesn't matter as long as its you
I am up for grabs , as well as any body else who posts. If you post, your profile pic is now up for grabs too
You can be a dick n slam them
Build a huge narrative around that image
Whatever
This could be particularly interesting to some of us who keep getting an increasing feel/knowing of fellow poets, that we haven't met yet
Very open
No soft skins
Post a few should ya need to but don't be silly
Mazel Tov!
to be an entrant, you must put your own beautiful mug into the profile pic... It can be staged, enhanced, or natural ... Fuck, give me a duck face of yourself .
Doesn't matter as long as its you
I am up for grabs , as well as any body else who posts. If you post, your profile pic is now up for grabs too
You can be a dick n slam them
Build a huge narrative around that image
Whatever
This could be particularly interesting to some of us who keep getting an increasing feel/knowing of fellow poets, that we haven't met yet
Very open
No soft skins
Post a few should ya need to but don't be silly
Mazel Tov!
Anonymous
I'm in - for one week only...
Based on Lightbaron's picture, though not aimed directly at you. More the bearded kind
A letter to the bearded ones
Men with beards.
I want to love them,
really I do
but I can't get past
the shabby hobo
I'm-a-bum-and-I'm-proud
mentality.
Firstly,
I spend all my time
methodically
breaking
them
down
mentally I've got some
bonsai shit with scissors
going on
until I've molded it
in to a neater creation
that won't scratch my face.
Now - it won't effect
the man behind it,
don't get me wrong
won't effect his ability
to love, or write
a damn good song
about how good the road is
and the drink is
and how the mighty beard
leads the way
in to man hood
and I-dont-give-a-fuck hood
and other alpha quotes
while I'm stood here
thinking "Dude-
you look like a fucking goat"
... and maybe
I just need to meet a beard
that I like
(though it's never mattered
below the face
when it's dyke on dyke...)
Based on Lightbaron's picture, though not aimed directly at you. More the bearded kind
A letter to the bearded ones
Men with beards.
I want to love them,
really I do
but I can't get past
the shabby hobo
I'm-a-bum-and-I'm-proud
mentality.
Firstly,
I spend all my time
methodically
breaking
them
down
mentally I've got some
bonsai shit with scissors
going on
until I've molded it
in to a neater creation
that won't scratch my face.
Now - it won't effect
the man behind it,
don't get me wrong
won't effect his ability
to love, or write
a damn good song
about how good the road is
and the drink is
and how the mighty beard
leads the way
in to man hood
and I-dont-give-a-fuck hood
and other alpha quotes
while I'm stood here
thinking "Dude-
you look like a fucking goat"
... and maybe
I just need to meet a beard
that I like
(though it's never mattered
below the face
when it's dyke on dyke...)
Anonymous
Slanted profile; Not a soul portrait.
I wonder: Do you feel that's your best half?
Sadness weighs the eyelids.
Strain has marked the brow
As hard bullet streaks between the eyes.
Strangely, though the lips pout,
Anger's frown is not hard set
On cheek that appears soft to touch.
I am not swayed by first glances,
Especially sideways ones.
I know the dark side of Lunacy,
Felt its bloody scream of sharp tongue
As it split face, tried to break
Something it could not recognize
Nor understand.
So distanced, I stand,
Guarding steel-crossed hills of my favor
During changeable phases of the moon
And study shadows moving in infrared lens.
(for John Rot)
I wonder: Do you feel that's your best half?
Sadness weighs the eyelids.
Strain has marked the brow
As hard bullet streaks between the eyes.
Strangely, though the lips pout,
Anger's frown is not hard set
On cheek that appears soft to touch.
I am not swayed by first glances,
Especially sideways ones.
I know the dark side of Lunacy,
Felt its bloody scream of sharp tongue
As it split face, tried to break
Something it could not recognize
Nor understand.
So distanced, I stand,
Guarding steel-crossed hills of my favor
During changeable phases of the moon
And study shadows moving in infrared lens.
(for John Rot)
