Poetry competition CLOSED 26th February 2014 5:27pm
WINNER
anna_grin (ANNAN)
anna_grin (ANNAN)
Distance Yourself
jeremy kyle is making drunk men cry
and giving barbie dolls to burn victims
there is outside
there is inside
there is no glass in the window
unless you are touching the window
trees. one two threefourfive.
fence. green.
suburban, silent, unsuspecting.
does it embarrass you that you beat your girlfriend up?
i do wanna turn my life around.
the shadow
of paper on the wall
doubles the amount of paper
someone should tell her
not to write 'private' on the cover.
people are so simple.
and giving barbie dolls to burn victims
there is outside
there is inside
there is no glass in the window
unless you are touching the window
trees. one two threefourfive.
fence. green.
suburban, silent, unsuspecting.
does it embarrass you that you beat your girlfriend up?
i do wanna turn my life around.
the shadow
of paper on the wall
doubles the amount of paper
someone should tell her
not to write 'private' on the cover.
people are so simple.
Anonymous
101010
!@# is not emotion. It is mechanized death.
123 testing 1 2 3
Ticker tape parade without the cheers.
Ripped amusement ride ticket invalid.
Click click click . "Hmm. No mow buwwets".
Flick the empty Zippo lighter, no encore for smoke bombs.
Zip ------ = case closed.
Still not sure if this is anywhere near what you're looking for, but it will have to do for now...
Pointless
He hanged himself
from a rotten wood beam,
that refused to hold his weight,
but he insisted
and made the jump anyway.
His fingers stopped clutching
at the nothing left.
The patch of grass,
where the hut used to stand,
never greens.
The tree branches claw at the sky,
never reaching the stars.
Watching,
then wondering,
if his thoughts
screamed with regret,
when it was already too late
to change his mind.
The world carried on living,
after his departure.
The collateral damage
was packed away,
kept behind locked doors.
Disinterested in his reasons,
or the memories
he dangled from,
or the fact he overlooked
the things left behind.
Pinning it down to just
another pointless suicide.
Pointless
He hanged himself
from a rotten wood beam,
that refused to hold his weight,
but he insisted
and made the jump anyway.
His fingers stopped clutching
at the nothing left.
The patch of grass,
where the hut used to stand,
never greens.
The tree branches claw at the sky,
never reaching the stars.
Watching,
then wondering,
if his thoughts
screamed with regret,
when it was already too late
to change his mind.
The world carried on living,
after his departure.
The collateral damage
was packed away,
kept behind locked doors.
Disinterested in his reasons,
or the memories
he dangled from,
or the fact he overlooked
the things left behind.
Pinning it down to just
another pointless suicide.
a poem is lost
a poem is lost
it wanders alone and fragile
in the vastness of time and space
battered by the winds of oppression
trying desperately to avoid
the chasms of oblivion
it holds the dreams and wishes, the ideologies
that we hide in the vanity
and myth of poetry
it’s endowed with the answers
to life’s mysteries, the elucidation
that would rationalize
our dubious existence
it’s a textbook of instructions
regarding the nature of love
detailed guidance in nurturing and care
to make love joyful and abiding
it holds the keys to
manifesting peace
among all the villages
of our imperiled planet
all the knowledge that we need
the knowledge we seek and fear
it carries the secrets
that we will never know
a poem is lost
a poem is lost
it wanders alone and fragile
in the vastness of time and space
battered by the winds of oppression
trying desperately to avoid
the chasms of oblivion
it holds the dreams and wishes, the ideologies
that we hide in the vanity
and myth of poetry
it’s endowed with the answers
to life’s mysteries, the elucidation
that would rationalize
our dubious existence
it’s a textbook of instructions
regarding the nature of love
detailed guidance in nurturing and care
to make love joyful and abiding
it holds the keys to
manifesting peace
among all the villages
of our imperiled planet
all the knowledge that we need
the knowledge we seek and fear
it carries the secrets
that we will never know
a poem is lost
Deleted.
That poem wasn't right for this comp. Might try again.
---
27 years later ...
FISH
"Are you angry?" asked Vaslov.
"Yes," I said.
"Good," Vaslov uttered, "At least now I affect you."
I put my hand in the lake to calm my anger. Vaslov continued:
"We seem to be making each other angry. tactfully, of course, so we would not have to forgive each other afterwards."
I laughed. I wouldn't forgive Vaslov anything.
I retrieved my hand and with it clung all the fish in the lake.
I smiled and told Vaslov:
"I wish you were a fish, a fish I could be having for dinner tonight."
Vaslov retorted" "Then I hope my bones frolic in your throat and kill you."
I threw the fishes to his face and bellowed:
"Aren't you even afraid that we might become too fond of each other eh?"
Manila c. 1987
That poem wasn't right for this comp. Might try again.
---
27 years later ...
FISH
"Are you angry?" asked Vaslov.
"Yes," I said.
"Good," Vaslov uttered, "At least now I affect you."
I put my hand in the lake to calm my anger. Vaslov continued:
"We seem to be making each other angry. tactfully, of course, so we would not have to forgive each other afterwards."
I laughed. I wouldn't forgive Vaslov anything.
I retrieved my hand and with it clung all the fish in the lake.
I smiled and told Vaslov:
"I wish you were a fish, a fish I could be having for dinner tonight."
Vaslov retorted" "Then I hope my bones frolic in your throat and kill you."
I threw the fishes to his face and bellowed:
"Aren't you even afraid that we might become too fond of each other eh?"
Manila c. 1987
ME'RE DISPOSITION
Back to basics, feel my roots
Earthly footprints, bare my soils uncouth
White lights kiss the sky
Beacon rays of infinite woe
A gifted purpose misdemeanour
Bless'ed curse, kept under stow
Elementary my dear
With a dysfunctional view
Bitter sweet the anomaly
Tardy timings ruled true
Tortured lips sink in song
Distant words, the kill of the night
Rouge tides speak in tongue
To awaken the world, or sleep forever in plyth.
Back to basics, feel my roots
Earthly footprints, bare my soils uncouth
White lights kiss the sky
Beacon rays of infinite woe
A gifted purpose misdemeanour
Bless'ed curse, kept under stow
Elementary my dear
With a dysfunctional view
Bitter sweet the anomaly
Tardy timings ruled true
Tortured lips sink in song
Distant words, the kill of the night
Rouge tides speak in tongue
To awaken the world, or sleep forever in plyth.
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Mr. A you detached fuck... I can only try.
-
The First after the Ninth
The fire
intentional.
Back street apartment block
caught a light
those 2 dollar cigarette liters
make quick work
of cheap curtain fabric doused
in flammable substance.
She snapped
collapsing under the pressure
of the two diseases
to a consistent mortality.
Self-confessed
her screams
I could hear her
smell her
perfume, seared skin
blistered patches of epidiemis
I was the first on the scene.
No kidding,
we both lived here.
I happen to answer my RFS pager
rarely did whilst I mourned
before this inferno,
presumably afterwards too.
Content,
until the fire started
actually,
before that
and that too.
The first month after
the vainly fought ninth.
There she is,
burning alive and taking in
her last poisonous breath.
-
The First after the Ninth
The fire
intentional.
Back street apartment block
caught a light
those 2 dollar cigarette liters
make quick work
of cheap curtain fabric doused
in flammable substance.
She snapped
collapsing under the pressure
of the two diseases
to a consistent mortality.
Self-confessed
her screams
I could hear her
smell her
perfume, seared skin
blistered patches of epidiemis
I was the first on the scene.
No kidding,
we both lived here.
I happen to answer my RFS pager
rarely did whilst I mourned
before this inferno,
presumably afterwards too.
Content,
until the fire started
actually,
before that
and that too.
The first month after
the vainly fought ninth.
There she is,
burning alive and taking in
her last poisonous breath.
what he saw from the back of my mind he's awlays watching without tears
nurse in flimsy
green uniform
peels tape off flesh
draws needles
from holes
tugs tubes
from throat
no gagging
the dead don’t
his head down
her hand in his
grows cold as the
clock collects minutes
looking up
the pony tail
of the nurse
back and forth
(smells like
coconuts)
as she prepares
the body to
go, where?
water leaks
from his eyes
blood flows
to his groin
days to come
hold golden
pen signings
on mahogany desks
behind victorian chairs
dead other bodies
down the hall
are painted for
farewell tours
he nods yes when
paperwork asks
if this three days
in a freezer body
is her
the mother, the priest,
the dog, the hawk
that flew in the pine
the skin numb cold
and the blue sky
all together
for her last
goodbye
the wood box
the burned bone and
teeth of her in his hands
as hydraulic arms held him
up and he put her in
the dark wall
the lid caulked shut
the dates of her
birth and death
etched in the rock
like the rest
nurse in flimsy
green uniform
peels tape off flesh
draws needles
from holes
tugs tubes
from throat
no gagging
the dead don’t
his head down
her hand in his
grows cold as the
clock collects minutes
looking up
the pony tail
of the nurse
back and forth
(smells like
coconuts)
as she prepares
the body to
go, where?
water leaks
from his eyes
blood flows
to his groin
days to come
hold golden
pen signings
on mahogany desks
behind victorian chairs
dead other bodies
down the hall
are painted for
farewell tours
he nods yes when
paperwork asks
if this three days
in a freezer body
is her
the mother, the priest,
the dog, the hawk
that flew in the pine
the skin numb cold
and the blue sky
all together
for her last
goodbye
the wood box
the burned bone and
teeth of her in his hands
as hydraulic arms held him
up and he put her in
the dark wall
the lid caulked shut
the dates of her
birth and death
etched in the rock
like the rest
