Poetry competition CLOSED 24th September 2014 4:02am
WINNER
lepperochan (Craic-Dealer)
lepperochan (Craic-Dealer)
RUNNERS-UP:
EngrVV
and 0913338
Page:
DA ding a-ling kompetishun
Anonymous
Poetry Contest Description
Wryte a poeum about bells. Eny style. Take a chance. Bee kreative. Eye'm fair.
The Bells Toll
quiet morning there was rain in the air
Men waking up yawning a brand new day
women serving up coffee and fried yam
eyeing their washing ready for the streams
silence frozen in the cool dawn
the church bells began to ring
it was slow with deep sounds
booming a resonating pounding
Boom clang clang resounding
against the green blue mountains
the harbinger of doom boomed
silence in the village, fear
the sons of the Rising Sun
had overwhelmed the people
of the White Queen
Boom Clang Clang the Bells rang
Tenko
Kempetei
Boom Clang Clang the Bells told
innocence defiled
quiet morning there was rain in the air
Men waking up yawning a brand new day
women serving up coffee and fried yam
eyeing their washing ready for the streams
silence frozen in the cool dawn
the church bells began to ring
it was slow with deep sounds
booming a resonating pounding
Boom clang clang resounding
against the green blue mountains
the harbinger of doom boomed
silence in the village, fear
the sons of the Rising Sun
had overwhelmed the people
of the White Queen
Boom Clang Clang the Bells rang
Tenko
Kempetei
Boom Clang Clang the Bells told
innocence defiled
BONG! The church bell bawls
Harken hallow chimes of grace
Angel earns its wings
http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qAuRGWanLKI/UGok9-oF88I/AAAAAAAABmk/H6Jb59c0g1Q/s1600/waining+day.jpg
Harken hallow chimes of grace
Angel earns its wings
http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qAuRGWanLKI/UGok9-oF88I/AAAAAAAABmk/H6Jb59c0g1Q/s1600/waining+day.jpg
Mmmmm mmmm she is the bell of the ball
She makes my ding a ling
Go ding dong
I would like to pull her thong aside with my toung
And ring her bell
Ding ding bing bong
Get on one knee and sing
Her a song
She is the bell of the ball
And has a crack like the liberty bell
Every time she enters my my mind
My ding dong swells
I would love to ring her bell
Of the ball
She makes my ding a ling
Go ding dong
I would like to pull her thong aside with my toung
And ring her bell
Ding ding bing bong
Get on one knee and sing
Her a song
She is the bell of the ball
And has a crack like the liberty bell
Every time she enters my my mind
My ding dong swells
I would love to ring her bell
Of the ball
WEEDING BELLZ UR RINGING
Kaleem-bang, kaleem-bang
Hud yat ng camp ana
carpe diem
par a makeeta mo
dia de aras dating novia mo
Kaleem-bang, kaleem-bang
tunog ng camp ana
shabe mo sa aken
till death do us part
pero baket eva eh yong
pin aka salan
Kaleem-bang, kaleembang
weeding bellz ur ringing
cash sama na-mate ur heart
kaya enjoy na lang
inom cana lang ng beer
hang gang ikaw ay malasheng
shamahan mo na rin ng weed
phara trip to heaven!
Kaleem-bang, kaleem-bang
Hud yat ng camp ana
carpe diem
par a makeeta mo
dia de aras dating novia mo
Kaleem-bang, kaleem-bang
tunog ng camp ana
shabe mo sa aken
till death do us part
pero baket eva eh yong
pin aka salan
Kaleem-bang, kaleembang
weeding bellz ur ringing
cash sama na-mate ur heart
kaya enjoy na lang
inom cana lang ng beer
hang gang ikaw ay malasheng
shamahan mo na rin ng weed
phara trip to heaven!
when the beetles sang about holding your hand
we heard a rutting stags bellow
an earth humping howl from the mississippi mud
chucky's berries was right
i want you to play with my ding-a-ling
ain't no subterfuge nor metaphor nor
innuendo ya hear
just tongue clapping hammers ringing
hell(lows) in nectar cup acoustics
ding dongs whistling in your in door
cause you ain't dead wood yet
and when her hand smacks
the pavlovain curves of her ass
it's like a hells bells buckets of blood
call to prayer feast for the hungry dogs growl
bell(y) up to the table or bell(y) down on the bed
the butter bread wine whiskey skin of woman
is laid by the southern cross of man
we heard a rutting stags bellow
an earth humping howl from the mississippi mud
chucky's berries was right
i want you to play with my ding-a-ling
ain't no subterfuge nor metaphor nor
innuendo ya hear
just tongue clapping hammers ringing
hell(lows) in nectar cup acoustics
ding dongs whistling in your in door
cause you ain't dead wood yet
and when her hand smacks
the pavlovain curves of her ass
it's like a hells bells buckets of blood
call to prayer feast for the hungry dogs growl
bell(y) up to the table or bell(y) down on the bed
the butter bread wine whiskey skin of woman
is laid by the southern cross of man
For Whom The Balls Tell
The metaphysics of this man before me tell amorous satires, nice philosophy.
His name was Jordan. He loved me like the ruin of my heart at the hands of the Falangists. He wore gray cotton underpants.
I made him achingly happy, he said, before he hoisted his own petard. "Did thee feel the earth move?"
Ay! I never sent to know for whom the balls tell. Ay! But Jordan he tells for me!
The metaphysics of this man before me tell amorous satires, nice philosophy.
His name was Jordan. He loved me like the ruin of my heart at the hands of the Falangists. He wore gray cotton underpants.
I made him achingly happy, he said, before he hoisted his own petard. "Did thee feel the earth move?"
Ay! I never sent to know for whom the balls tell. Ay! But Jordan he tells for me!
Anonymous
Bells
It's a rusted setup
relics from Medieval days
enormous weights of metal
with ropes and gears
that intimidate unintentionally
with their mere presence
atop walls that would be fallen
if they could talk and from the graveyard side
when the wind is just right
they still ring out and haunt the surrounding land
they've announced more than any
one dangling body could comprehend
covered more than the retired vicars admit even now
from the stone cottage where they wait
as the future becomes the present and fades to yesterday
the pigeons and bats take refuge
in the comfort of dark stillness
and the clouds gather overhead
threatening to rupture with disregard
It's a rusted setup
relics from Medieval days
enormous weights of metal
with ropes and gears
that intimidate unintentionally
with their mere presence
atop walls that would be fallen
if they could talk and from the graveyard side
when the wind is just right
they still ring out and haunt the surrounding land
they've announced more than any
one dangling body could comprehend
covered more than the retired vicars admit even now
from the stone cottage where they wait
as the future becomes the present and fades to yesterday
the pigeons and bats take refuge
in the comfort of dark stillness
and the clouds gather overhead
threatening to rupture with disregard
Vita Dulcedo Spes
we all laughed
as Marelda fell down the stairs
while chanting some quasi-mottos
she'd looked up on a hunch
and jotted down
on the back of a bunch of post-its
some years before
it was arse and tits galore
when she tumbled
and her chants switched
to something mumbled
about the fighting Irish
of Seigfried hall
we all laughed
as Marelda fell down the stairs
while chanting some quasi-mottos
she'd looked up on a hunch
and jotted down
on the back of a bunch of post-its
some years before
it was arse and tits galore
when she tumbled
and her chants switched
to something mumbled
about the fighting Irish
of Seigfried hall
