Poetry competition CLOSED 6th February 2014 5:34am
WINNER
0913338 (Semaj)
0913338 (Semaj)
RUNNERS-UP:
Page_Writer
and JWAthepsycho
Ashes of the Gods
- The Beat (Remains) -
To live
To die
To laugh
To cry
From day to night
From death to light
From summer
To fall
Winter ends all
But neither snow
or wind
or the winter's
bitter sting
can keep Gaia's ring
The life
The spring
The gunshot ring
The knife
The plunge
The drip of Morphine
The breath
The end
The final cut-scene
The beat is strong
The beat remains
as Gaia dances
through the smoke and haze
The bet goes on
Marching in rhythm
The beat remains
And the cycle continues
To live
To die
To laugh
To cry
From day to night
From death to light
From summer
To fall
Winter ends all
But neither snow
or wind
or the winter's
bitter sting
can keep Gaia's ring
The life
The spring
The gunshot ring
The knife
The plunge
The drip of Morphine
The breath
The end
The final cut-scene
The beat is strong
The beat remains
as Gaia dances
through the smoke and haze
The bet goes on
Marching in rhythm
The beat remains
And the cycle continues
Anonymous
Queen Of Heaven
Bake me a cake and you shall see
I’m Ashtoreth, Goddess of Fertility.
I’m Queen of Heaven before the Son,
Lady Marmalade and Acid Queen, all rolled into one.
Deception, I give, disguised thinly veiled;
Your payment is incense to both me and Ba’al,
And also your soul, need I mention that part—
I’ll lead you astray right from the start.
Like the Israelites from so long ago,
Turned their backs on their Lord and fell into Sheol.
I laughed as they came by hoardes and by droves,
Cooking their cakes on their primitive stoves.
A sacrifice—for what, a blessed womb?
A double edged sword that leads to your tomb.
O foolish mortals, did you forget—
My husband, Ba’al, is also Molech?
Yes, he’s the one to whom you lit pyres
And then threw your firstborns on into the fire.
The evil we bring gives me such glee
To twist you inside our irony,
For the very same children you begged me for
Were handed back over at Molech’s door.
And all for what—prosperity?
Such a sad outcome, your fertility. . .
Now lest we ignore the most delicious part:
You’ve stoked the Lord’s wrath, right to the heart.
Your gratification, the eternal sin
For bowing to us and not to Him.
I hastened all along, your deeds through the ages
And someday I, too, will burn for sin’s wages.
But not before taking as many souls down
The Road to Perdition, where everyone drowns.
Anonymous
Signs Of Demeter
They bowed before her
In the morning light
And she opened her womb to them
And they ate;
Drank of her nectar
From the honey-dripped land,
Imbibing into their essence
All that she was,
Demeter, Mother Earth.
Her soil cried out
For return,
And they built temples
And they sacrificed
Yet she was no match
For Yahweh,
The God of all,
And when the veil was torn
And the words spoken:
“It is done!”
She became like the others
And held no power over them.
No stone shall be left unturned
And as her temples fell
And were smashed by time
Into ruins,
Her only sign is the Drachma
And the wheat stalks
Sprouting from where the ground needed to be healed
Of abominations past,
Through which the eyes of God
Peer before returning again.
They bowed before her
In the morning light
And she opened her womb to them
And they ate;
Drank of her nectar
From the honey-dripped land,
Imbibing into their essence
All that she was,
Demeter, Mother Earth.
Her soil cried out
For return,
And they built temples
And they sacrificed
Yet she was no match
For Yahweh,
The God of all,
And when the veil was torn
And the words spoken:
“It is done!”
She became like the others
And held no power over them.
No stone shall be left unturned
And as her temples fell
And were smashed by time
Into ruins,
Her only sign is the Drachma
And the wheat stalks
Sprouting from where the ground needed to be healed
Of abominations past,
Through which the eyes of God
Peer before returning again.
Vulcan is here!
Standing staring at the vulcanal,
reminiscing ancient times of a giant,
when sacrificing fish to a bonfire
was one of life's great normalities.
Vulcanoes scream, August fires
tunic and hat with a hammer in hand,
king of lands, hot mouth Roman.
Blacksmith of men black fire scale
forging burning will red sunset
Lightning and flames across the skies.
Religious ideas or destructive force?
Hello little blind boy made of fire,
spark of wombs son ofJupiter,
Mater stops fires but the golden boy
gave birth to librarians and kings.
Newly discovered moon of Pluto,
who knew a child could grow into a
God and possess strength like firestorms,
clothes under the sun.
Today I work at the light of a candle
making sure I'm hit by fortunate rays,
breathing in the warm summer air,
paying homage prayer by prayer,
stair by stair until the coffin molds.
Standing staring at the vulcanal,
reminiscing ancient times of a giant,
when sacrificing fish to a bonfire
was one of life's great normalities.
Vulcanoes scream, August fires
tunic and hat with a hammer in hand,
king of lands, hot mouth Roman.
Blacksmith of men black fire scale
forging burning will red sunset
Lightning and flames across the skies.
Religious ideas or destructive force?
Hello little blind boy made of fire,
spark of wombs son ofJupiter,
Mater stops fires but the golden boy
gave birth to librarians and kings.
Newly discovered moon of Pluto,
who knew a child could grow into a
God and possess strength like firestorms,
clothes under the sun.
Today I work at the light of a candle
making sure I'm hit by fortunate rays,
breathing in the warm summer air,
paying homage prayer by prayer,
stair by stair until the coffin molds.
Persephone's Throne
Death took me young.
Brought me to his cold & forgotten realm--
Deep inside the ground.
There is mostly darkness here.
No sun reaches Hell.
My already pale complexion has become ghastly white.
Like the moon's face in the sky.
My hands are cold to touch.
And my eyes have sunken, dark rings encircle them--
Like picture frames.
But Death waits on me, calls me his queen.
He fashioned me a throne--
"I am not Persephone" I try to tell him.
But he does not listen.
His hair is black like his obsidian eyes.
Or the rare black diamonds he gives to me--
Fashioning it into rare and ornate, impossible of ever exisiting jewelry.
I don't want to accept it but he is not cruel.
As so many stories have told me. . .
He tells me that I am his new queen.
That his old one, she did leave.
She parted from him, unhappy with his realm.
His kingdom, the throne, the jewelry he gave her.
I told him that I am, as well am unhappy with these gifts.
It hurt but I had to explain, that in the end I wasn't sure if I could remain his queen.
Abandon a life spent in solitude and become the queen of the Underworld?
I was already dead.
There was no point in trying to go deny it, or trying to go back.
I found that maybe I could love him, this Lord of darkness.
With a lonely heart made of stone, cut perfectly like a diamond-- With sharp edges of glass.
"Why do you still stay when so many others would rather go?"
I couldn't answer him "I-- I don't know, maybe because it was my choice to die."
My choice. . . My death. . . My suicide.
Realizing what I left behind.
Broken hearts and shattered minds.
"I can never go back--" Realization cracking my voice.
"No-- I am sorry but you, you are dead. I can send along the river, along the Styx to rest.
Rest in peace like mortals do, although you'll make a rather lovely Goddess."
I blushed, Goddess me-- That's not real.
Only in stories, books and movies.
That's not a real thing, even now it can't be real.
But he's standing right in front of me, offering me a deal.
Rest in peace for eternity. . .
Or rule over this realm as his queen?
I look away from him from the balcony's wall, the souls being escorted into the boat.
The boat that would take them down the River Styx.
I didn't want to go.
Because there was nothing at the end of the ride.
Just ending, I don't want to really die.
It's enough that the world above thinks I'm dead.
I don't want to end for good.
At least I am breathing, in a sense.
At least I am moving, dreaming, sleeping and if I wanted to I could eat, something.
Persephone hated it here, because she was meant to be in the spring time.
She was meant to dance among flowers and smile with the sun.
I choose to recluse inside of darkness.
And now here I am, Persephone's throne.
Besides the man she left behind--
A man whose has done nothing but bring me (ironically) back to life.
In this kingdom of the dead.
Of darkness & decay.
Why not?
Why not?
Why not?
Why not stay?
I have ended my life, by choice with my hand.
I'll never marry or live or laugh.
But this man, this man whose has taken me in--
He is, all I have left.
I take his hand in mine, he jumps at my touch.
Probably never been touched in a long time.
"I want to stay--" I start but he stops me.
"I can give you back your life" he says to me.
I stare at him, "But wh-- why?"
"Because you're too beautiful for such a place as this" he says to me.
And then he kissed me, gently, heavenly, deeply on the lips.
A kiss of death--
And I was gone for good.
"I don't want to go--" I finally manage to say.
"But--"
"No, I don't want to leave. There is nothing up there for me."
"Life, breathing, laughter and joy."
"I want to stay with you--" I am begging, cause I don't want to go.
This cold and desolate place, this place is my home.
"You want to stay here, forever, remain as my queen?"
"Yes, I-- I do" I said to him, and I kissed him in return.
Married to death.
Danced with the devil.
Dragged to Hell against my will.
I asked for this.
For the pain to end.
Not the find an understanding and caring new friend.
A gown was made.
And bells rang.
I became a Goddess of darkness, of the dead.
The Underworld was where I ruled.
Beside my husband on the thrones of obsidian, black diamonds and white gold.
I am paler then ever, with rings around my eyes.
I am cold to the touch, though my love keeps my veins burning alive.
My heart throbbing on, somehow still alive.
My veins are blue, my skin translucent as ice.
I am dead, but still alive. . .
Death took my young.
And made me his wife.
It may have been a shot in the dark, when I was ending my life.
But I took it with no regrets, the pain will subside and I will forget.
Within due time.
For now I shall sit on Persephone's throne.
Looking over my new kingdom, my new home.
Deep inside of the ground.
Where no sunlight reaches.
Only darkness reigns over all.
I am Hades new bride.
And I am Mistress of this realm.
Death took me young.
Brought me to his cold & forgotten realm--
Deep inside the ground.
There is mostly darkness here.
No sun reaches Hell.
My already pale complexion has become ghastly white.
Like the moon's face in the sky.
My hands are cold to touch.
And my eyes have sunken, dark rings encircle them--
Like picture frames.
But Death waits on me, calls me his queen.
He fashioned me a throne--
"I am not Persephone" I try to tell him.
But he does not listen.
His hair is black like his obsidian eyes.
Or the rare black diamonds he gives to me--
Fashioning it into rare and ornate, impossible of ever exisiting jewelry.
I don't want to accept it but he is not cruel.
As so many stories have told me. . .
He tells me that I am his new queen.
That his old one, she did leave.
She parted from him, unhappy with his realm.
His kingdom, the throne, the jewelry he gave her.
I told him that I am, as well am unhappy with these gifts.
It hurt but I had to explain, that in the end I wasn't sure if I could remain his queen.
Abandon a life spent in solitude and become the queen of the Underworld?
I was already dead.
There was no point in trying to go deny it, or trying to go back.
I found that maybe I could love him, this Lord of darkness.
With a lonely heart made of stone, cut perfectly like a diamond-- With sharp edges of glass.
"Why do you still stay when so many others would rather go?"
I couldn't answer him "I-- I don't know, maybe because it was my choice to die."
My choice. . . My death. . . My suicide.
Realizing what I left behind.
Broken hearts and shattered minds.
"I can never go back--" Realization cracking my voice.
"No-- I am sorry but you, you are dead. I can send along the river, along the Styx to rest.
Rest in peace like mortals do, although you'll make a rather lovely Goddess."
I blushed, Goddess me-- That's not real.
Only in stories, books and movies.
That's not a real thing, even now it can't be real.
But he's standing right in front of me, offering me a deal.
Rest in peace for eternity. . .
Or rule over this realm as his queen?
I look away from him from the balcony's wall, the souls being escorted into the boat.
The boat that would take them down the River Styx.
I didn't want to go.
Because there was nothing at the end of the ride.
Just ending, I don't want to really die.
It's enough that the world above thinks I'm dead.
I don't want to end for good.
At least I am breathing, in a sense.
At least I am moving, dreaming, sleeping and if I wanted to I could eat, something.
Persephone hated it here, because she was meant to be in the spring time.
She was meant to dance among flowers and smile with the sun.
I choose to recluse inside of darkness.
And now here I am, Persephone's throne.
Besides the man she left behind--
A man whose has done nothing but bring me (ironically) back to life.
In this kingdom of the dead.
Of darkness & decay.
Why not?
Why not?
Why not?
Why not stay?
I have ended my life, by choice with my hand.
I'll never marry or live or laugh.
But this man, this man whose has taken me in--
He is, all I have left.
I take his hand in mine, he jumps at my touch.
Probably never been touched in a long time.
"I want to stay--" I start but he stops me.
"I can give you back your life" he says to me.
I stare at him, "But wh-- why?"
"Because you're too beautiful for such a place as this" he says to me.
And then he kissed me, gently, heavenly, deeply on the lips.
A kiss of death--
And I was gone for good.
"I don't want to go--" I finally manage to say.
"But--"
"No, I don't want to leave. There is nothing up there for me."
"Life, breathing, laughter and joy."
"I want to stay with you--" I am begging, cause I don't want to go.
This cold and desolate place, this place is my home.
"You want to stay here, forever, remain as my queen?"
"Yes, I-- I do" I said to him, and I kissed him in return.
Married to death.
Danced with the devil.
Dragged to Hell against my will.
I asked for this.
For the pain to end.
Not the find an understanding and caring new friend.
A gown was made.
And bells rang.
I became a Goddess of darkness, of the dead.
The Underworld was where I ruled.
Beside my husband on the thrones of obsidian, black diamonds and white gold.
I am paler then ever, with rings around my eyes.
I am cold to the touch, though my love keeps my veins burning alive.
My heart throbbing on, somehow still alive.
My veins are blue, my skin translucent as ice.
I am dead, but still alive. . .
Death took my young.
And made me his wife.
It may have been a shot in the dark, when I was ending my life.
But I took it with no regrets, the pain will subside and I will forget.
Within due time.
For now I shall sit on Persephone's throne.
Looking over my new kingdom, my new home.
Deep inside of the ground.
Where no sunlight reaches.
Only darkness reigns over all.
I am Hades new bride.
And I am Mistress of this realm.
for kali
she is nothing, the mother of everything
the energy wave that crashes matter to shore
the black before god finds the light
every birth born from the bed of her death
you will find her in the yolk that beaks to break a shell
the seed that cracks to curling tower, the babe that suckles to king and queen
the lover that eats her mate, the mother that eats her young
find her when hunger stabs love and bleeds a meal for life
in the black-lava knife that milks a million throat-teats of blood
to slake the sweltering thirst of the blazing sun
find her in the fire forged nails that bled the saviors hands
the hammer swinging thwack that hung the body on the tree
in every son drop of blood that drips to earth
she is the open mouth demon drinking heaven from the pain
as each droplet scream spawns from her split-tongue flame
and her howls take the form of every war in the battlefield of life
and when your enemies prepare to out carve and gnaw your heart
you will pray to her in the cemetery of your demise to spare your mortal life
then victor and the vanquished will see her in glory-full chaos creating destruction
her mercy is cold like the stone heart of the world mountain
her shattered tears are the sand souls of all sentient beings turned to glass
in the last light of day she comes on the bright wounds that wrap the earth
in the blood-drunk red-coal eyes of her fury
in the tornado snake strikes of her black cloud-coiled hair
she raises the blade that holds every death above her mane
in the other hand she plucks your head from the spine
like fruit from a stem, burns off the skin
adds your skull to the belt of bones that garland
her severed hands of warriors skirt
every living thing is dead
her lolling tongue laps pools of loss
her crimson eyes roll to white blind energy
echoed last screams bang the drum beat for her frenzied dance
she stomps with a planet crushing power that will put every star dark
the light of the lamb appears to lay with the lion
she stomps like the holy ghost
buddah floats on lotus blooms beneath the boddhi tree
she stomps like nirvanna
the last prophet sings the morning prayer
she stomps like a virgin reward
till shiva, her love, lays under her thrashing claw-foot
and her energy is taken into the matter-heart of his being
and in her calm the world stirs alive again
she is nothing, the mother of everything
the energy wave that crashes matter to shore
the black before god finds the light
every birth born from the bed of her death
you will find her in the yolk that beaks to break a shell
the seed that cracks to curling tower, the babe that suckles to king and queen
the lover that eats her mate, the mother that eats her young
find her when hunger stabs love and bleeds a meal for life
in the black-lava knife that milks a million throat-teats of blood
to slake the sweltering thirst of the blazing sun
find her in the fire forged nails that bled the saviors hands
the hammer swinging thwack that hung the body on the tree
in every son drop of blood that drips to earth
she is the open mouth demon drinking heaven from the pain
as each droplet scream spawns from her split-tongue flame
and her howls take the form of every war in the battlefield of life
and when your enemies prepare to out carve and gnaw your heart
you will pray to her in the cemetery of your demise to spare your mortal life
then victor and the vanquished will see her in glory-full chaos creating destruction
her mercy is cold like the stone heart of the world mountain
her shattered tears are the sand souls of all sentient beings turned to glass
in the last light of day she comes on the bright wounds that wrap the earth
in the blood-drunk red-coal eyes of her fury
in the tornado snake strikes of her black cloud-coiled hair
she raises the blade that holds every death above her mane
in the other hand she plucks your head from the spine
like fruit from a stem, burns off the skin
adds your skull to the belt of bones that garland
her severed hands of warriors skirt
every living thing is dead
her lolling tongue laps pools of loss
her crimson eyes roll to white blind energy
echoed last screams bang the drum beat for her frenzied dance
she stomps with a planet crushing power that will put every star dark
the light of the lamb appears to lay with the lion
she stomps like the holy ghost
buddah floats on lotus blooms beneath the boddhi tree
she stomps like nirvanna
the last prophet sings the morning prayer
she stomps like a virgin reward
till shiva, her love, lays under her thrashing claw-foot
and her energy is taken into the matter-heart of his being
and in her calm the world stirs alive again
Anonymous
Why write about Gods from an obscure religion
The word religion is obscure by itself, isn’t it, just a smidgen?
Growing up Catholic; it was both a farce and a force
“Your mother can’t go to church. She had a divorce.”
But you sit, kneel, and accept Christ’s body and blood
All the while wondering if it was just fake and just all crud
You begin your life, an adult making all of your choices
You don’t even hear the Ten Commandments or the apostles’ voices
Moving on, you try to pray when things get tough
You decide to stop altogether; things just only got more rough
Remembering the nuns when they warned you about Satan
And said that he would try to take over your life, how blatant
Thinking that a lack of faith, for children, cannot be good
You ponder how to explain that to your own kids or whether you should
You realize that someone or something kept you alive, looking back now
When you took your punches, made wrong choices, and began asking how
Scared that there might be a Heaven, you take stock of your life and start to ponder
Because if there is, no one knows how one gets to the other, you don’t want to go down under
The word religion is obscure by itself, isn’t it, just a smidgen?
Growing up Catholic; it was both a farce and a force
“Your mother can’t go to church. She had a divorce.”
But you sit, kneel, and accept Christ’s body and blood
All the while wondering if it was just fake and just all crud
You begin your life, an adult making all of your choices
You don’t even hear the Ten Commandments or the apostles’ voices
Moving on, you try to pray when things get tough
You decide to stop altogether; things just only got more rough
Remembering the nuns when they warned you about Satan
And said that he would try to take over your life, how blatant
Thinking that a lack of faith, for children, cannot be good
You ponder how to explain that to your own kids or whether you should
You realize that someone or something kept you alive, looking back now
When you took your punches, made wrong choices, and began asking how
Scared that there might be a Heaven, you take stock of your life and start to ponder
Because if there is, no one knows how one gets to the other, you don’t want to go down under
Anonymous
Why write about Gods from an obscure religion
The word religion is obscure by itself, isn’t it, just a smidgen?
Growing up Catholic; it was both a farce and a force
“Your mother can’t go to church. She had a divorce.”
But you sit, kneel, and accept Christ’s body and blood
All the while wondering if it was just fake and just all crud
You begin your life, an adult making all of your choices
You don’t even hear the Ten Commandments or the apostles’ voices
Moving on, you try to pray when things got tough
You decide to stop altogether; things just only got more rough
Remembering the nuns when they warned you about Satan
And said that he would try to take over your life, how blatant
Thinking that a lack of faith, for children, cannot be good
You ponder how to explain that to your own kids or whether you should
You realize that someone or something kept you alive, looking back now
When you took your punches, made wrong choices, and began asking how
Scared that there might be a Heaven, you take stock of your life and start to ponder
Because if there is, no one knows who gets to go to the other, you don’t want to go down under
The word religion is obscure by itself, isn’t it, just a smidgen?
Growing up Catholic; it was both a farce and a force
“Your mother can’t go to church. She had a divorce.”
But you sit, kneel, and accept Christ’s body and blood
All the while wondering if it was just fake and just all crud
You begin your life, an adult making all of your choices
You don’t even hear the Ten Commandments or the apostles’ voices
Moving on, you try to pray when things got tough
You decide to stop altogether; things just only got more rough
Remembering the nuns when they warned you about Satan
And said that he would try to take over your life, how blatant
Thinking that a lack of faith, for children, cannot be good
You ponder how to explain that to your own kids or whether you should
You realize that someone or something kept you alive, looking back now
When you took your punches, made wrong choices, and began asking how
Scared that there might be a Heaven, you take stock of your life and start to ponder
Because if there is, no one knows who gets to go to the other, you don’t want to go down under
Anonymous
Unable to delete this submission?? It was sent twice.
