Poetry competition CLOSED 19th February 2014 5:02am
WINNER
Austin_Rura (Austin Rura)
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Not as it seems

CommonTruth
CommonTruth
ThatOneDude
Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Poetry Contest

I want to some one to take something ( anything ) and write a poem about how it's not as the world views it.
Example; Maybe Satan is the good guy and God is the bad guy.

Collab is accepted. Try not to making them to long, and get creative. Step outside the world of reality and make a new one. You have one week, Go!

p.s No more then 3 posts per poet! :)

Austin_Rura
Austin_Rura
Austin Rura
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(great idea! are we allowed more than 1 entry?)

intelligence

intelligence isn't what you necessarily think

intelligence is not the only answer, merely the transport to deliver us from the brink

intelligence is half eloquence

and half arrogance

intelligence is simplicity

derived from simple misery

as opposed to the past our power was unity

perhaps without knowing what we were becoming we picked this trait up foolishly?

were so smart weve learned not to trust

and weve learned that were so high and mighty we came from dead star matter, not simple dust

intelligence is the individual rising above societies mark.
so as the individual rises, society as animals bark and itself becomes less smart

be not evil nor holy.be not the preacher nor the bully

just illuminate the dark with a light of peace and ways of art

carry on. its scary but it isn't wrong, the smarter we get civilization must become more strong

ZexionKingdomHeart
ZexionKingdomHeart
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Euphoria

Tremble in the presence of your nightmare
It is what your dark mind truly wants.
Your euphoric thoughts are but mere bullshit.
Countless times your mind has played tricks on you.
Are you truly, euphoric?
Slithering silently through the weeds, is the familiar stranger.
He watches with red eyes.
It is your sanity.
Waiting to grasp your last drop of normality.
We believe that euphoria is of good intent.
I believe it just depends on the soul.
Are we all, truly happy people?
Or do we secretly yearn for the bitter dark?







CommonTruth
CommonTruth
ThatOneDude
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No more then 3 posts please:) Thank you, Austin for kicking us off.

Austin_Rura
Austin_Rura
Austin Rura
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The Average Life and Death

The Average Life and Death its not what it seems
the average life and death fuckin up the American dream
the average life and death; watch it fall apart at the seams
Alone party with nobody                
and I know nobody’s party’s really just as lonely as me.
smoke one, sip some till we all numb.
take to chillin’ straight to dealin’ straight up villian take to killin’
yo try to ease my rattled nerves
so I don't find myself in the back of the hearse
I’ll light myself some stress relief
a little taste of death,  a little taste of Ses, a little taste of life, a little chance to rest
It seems to help to ease the pain
it’s the only thing that helps to block the breeze in the freezing rain
when its stormin with no hope of the sun’s rays in sight- no money, no electricity, no light.
When it rains its bound to start down pourin,
its enough to drive you insane shit about being poor.
And just guns aimed at my future
like shit aint neva looking bright.
Just hammers slammin and bullets flashin like lightning and thunder
your senses crashing as you can barely feel the rising water.
like shit aint feelin’ right. Really it seems shits looking pretty bleak
I think I feel weak but I have a hard time tellin cause I haven’t eaten in about a week.
like I might lose my might I might lose balance between wrong and right
like I might lose my sight and now it’s just like for the first time in my shitty tiny little life
I cant feel pain and maybe one day here you too will feel the same  
The Average Life and Death its not what it seems
the average life and death fuckin up the American dream
the average life and death; watch it fall apart at the seams

MadameLavender
MadameLavender
Guardian of Shadows
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Transient Witness (A True Story)


“Be careful”
“Avoid him,”
They said…
Lenny
The Bum, downtown.

“He’s a sly one, you know”
“He’ll weasel you out of your money”
“He lives on the railroad tracks.”
The jeers,
The hate,
Because Lenny was the Town Bum.

But he used to escort me,
And my girlfriends,
Across the tracks
To our after school jobs
At the grocery store…..
How can he be that bad?

And Lenny would pick up the trash
In the parking lots
And collect the shopping carriages
That people took all over the city,
And we would pay him in food
From the grocery store.
How can he be that bad?

“He smells”
“He’s a dirty old bum”
“No good, homeless man”

But Lenny had great stories to tell
As he escorted us girls,
To the care of our male co-workers
Across the tracks.
“Make sure you marry this one,”
Lenny told my boyfriend
“She’s a keeper”

But he didn’t marry me,
And Lenny died one day, many years later.

The newspaper revealed that Lenny was a devout churchgoer,
And that he was rich,
His fortune made from misering away
Every cent he earned from driving the trash collection truck
For years.
He had no family
Save for the church
And his mention of God, made sense now—
Lenny was witnessing
To everyone he came across, as a Transient.

“But Lenny was a—”

Lenny was a good man who just rarely showered,
And didn’t want to stay home alone.

“But how could he—”

How could he what?
Be happy just leading a simple life
Collecting carriages and trash,
Making sure the girls were safe?

St. Bernard’s Church is $75,000 richer,
Because of Lenny
And his bequest,
His entire savings,
To the house of the God he loved.

Lenny was no bum.

CommonTruth
CommonTruth
ThatOneDude
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MadameLavender said:Transient Witness (A True Story)


“Be careful”
“Avoid him,”
They said…
Lenny
The Bum, downtown.

“He’s a sly one, you know”
“He’ll weasel you out of your money”
“He lives on the railroad tracks.”
The jeers,
The hate,
Because Lenny was the Town Bum.

But he used to escort me,
And my girlfriends,
Across the tracks
To our after school jobs
At the grocery store…..
How can he be that bad?

And Lenny would pick up the trash
In the parking lots
And collect the shopping carriages
That people took all over the city,
And we would pay him in food
From the grocery store.
How can he be that bad?

“He smells”
“He’s a dirty old bum”
“No good, homeless man”

But Lenny had great stories to tell
As he escorted us girls,
To the care of our male co-workers
Across the tracks.
“Make sure you marry this one,”
Lenny told my boyfriend
“She’s a keeper”

But he didn’t marry me,
And Lenny died one day, many years later.

The newspaper revealed that Lenny was a devout churchgoer,
And that he was rich,
His fortune made from misering away
Every cent he earned from driving the trash collection truck
For years.
He had no family
Save for the church
And his mention of God, made sense now—
Lenny was witnessing
To everyone he came across, as a Transient.

“But Lenny was a—”

Lenny was a good man who just rarely showered,
And didn’t want to stay home alone.

“But how could he—”

How could he what?
Be happy just leading a simple life
Collecting carriages and trash,
Making sure the girls were safe?

St. Bernard’s Church is $75,000 richer,
Because of Lenny
And his bequest,
His entire savings,
To the house of the God he loved.

Lenny was no bum.




Thank you so much for this fine story. It is definitely not something I expected, but by all means meets the requirements. Thank you. :)

MadameLavender
MadameLavender
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Forum Posts: 5505

CommonTruth said:



Thank you so much for this fine story. It is definitely not something I expected, but by all means meets the requirements. Thank you. :)



Glad it works for the comp--was all I could come up with, and it's a true story from my high school days back in the early 1980's, of everyone thinking that Lenny was something other than what he really was, and judging him for it.

michealmyers
michealmyers
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I have picked two death and hell
Death is not all bad and Neither is Hell Written By Micheal Myers
I took one look at the snake
And got my rake
Even though his eyes were beady
I was Ready
I got bit by the fang
Just said Dang
I knew I was going to die
But I still did not cry
I heard the Bell
And knew I was going to hell
Ask Father Satan before I die
But I still do not cry
What is Hell like
Are you ready I am
Then Bam   
I died
But I still had not cried
It is a Party was the last he said
And now I was Dead So it is time for Bed
I awoke and all I could see was Red
Then I realized it was the flames
Then I realized I was wrong it was the Dames
Do tell ladies
Do you dig crazies
I do
But do you
I do
Well are you Ready
To Party
I am
Bam
Drugs fell from the sky
I thought of it but still did not cry
She handed me a Beer
But all I saw was her rear
While we danced
The Others Pranced
The fire
Was Not So Dire
It was fun
And Far From done
Do we run
No
We don’t go
We Stay
This is the way
To Party
Are you Ready
Baby
You see Death is not all bad
It is quite Rad
And Neither is Hell
It is quite well

Pathospassion
Pathospassion
c.d.latin
Thought Provoker
United States
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Forum Posts: 172

A simple laptop is not what it seems
Because it is born from the sprouts of women's cancer
In other countries who beg our invisible hand of desire
To stop stretching so far
And eradicating what little peace they do have
While our lip's kiss their lands waiting to overtake them
With our tongues

A simple laptop is cancerous
Birthed from the wombs of dead children
Who died at the hands of "noble" soldiers  
And so called poets who lie and say everything is okay

But we are another KKK
Overtaking people's peace of mind
Just to pacify our desires
That never ever subside

We are gods in our minds but if we rewind
These tapes of time we will find
That we are truly gods-

Murderous gods who kill the souls and defile the lands
Of those who stand with darker skin
And more open hands than the rest of them

A laptop is a demon
An occupation of land
And an eradication of innocent men for the gain of gods
Who forgot whose hands they are in

Envoy
Envoy
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United States
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Forum Posts: 5

"The Jack o' Lanterns"

A quiet glance back at a horizon      
on fire - I am the only monster,      
this Halloween and every other.                      
                     
The subtle truth in my exterior      
dwarfed by gourd and sickle, and this town
finds what I cannot in      
sideways glances.                      
                     
Cross-stitched, branded -      
your goddamn sideshow -      
the pressing stench of soiled leaves      
once red, horizon red,      
nothing but the shade      
digging my footsteps,      
and the drip... swing...      
of my new head.
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poet Anonymous

Third Party Inquisitions (sans truth)


when a reason is owed
trying to sell an excuse is mockery
peddle the wares like you've interest
in their authenticity

nothing is what it seems
when people turn and walk away
the truth is split like verbs on a page
carefully exploited
by the readers taste

convicted by accusation instead of guilt
the answer is usually somewhere in the middle
between one said this and another said that
there's a third and better version
right from the start

when you're ready for the facts
you'll usually find out
it's nobody's business anyhow



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