Poetry competition CLOSED 17th January 2015 3:30pm
WINNER
toniscales (Lost Girl)
toniscales (Lost Girl)
Page:
Antagonist V/S Protagonist
Poetry Contest Description
Hope you enjoy it.A bit tricky.
Just a little something to kick things off to what I'm sure will be a fun competition.
http://i1317.photobucket.com/albums/t623/curlycue23/bampw3_zps95427f9a.jpg
Jimmy Dafoe
Jimmy Dafoe, how I loved you so
And still do
Even though you married Angelino
Jimmy Dafoe, how I loved you so
But now I don’t
Instead, I wish you had married Cleo
Jimmy Dafoe, how happy we could be
Living together, so carefree
If only you were with me
Jimmy Dafoe, I’m not happy
If only you’d get a job
And pull the harness with me
Jimmy Dafoe, how I miss your caress
And your sweet kisses
If only I were your Mrs.
Jimmy Dafoe, you got B.O.
And halitosis
And please drain your abscesses
Jimmy Dafoe, would you like to spoon?
All night long
And in the afternoon?
Jimmy Dafoe, if only Cloe could know
How lousy you are at sex
She’d certainly wouldn’t have any regrets
http://i1317.photobucket.com/albums/t623/curlycue23/bampw3_zps95427f9a.jpg
Jimmy Dafoe
Jimmy Dafoe, how I loved you so
And still do
Even though you married Angelino
Jimmy Dafoe, how I loved you so
But now I don’t
Instead, I wish you had married Cleo
Jimmy Dafoe, how happy we could be
Living together, so carefree
If only you were with me
Jimmy Dafoe, I’m not happy
If only you’d get a job
And pull the harness with me
Jimmy Dafoe, how I miss your caress
And your sweet kisses
If only I were your Mrs.
Jimmy Dafoe, you got B.O.
And halitosis
And please drain your abscesses
Jimmy Dafoe, would you like to spoon?
All night long
And in the afternoon?
Jimmy Dafoe, if only Cloe could know
How lousy you are at sex
She’d certainly wouldn’t have any regrets
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/7/72/Mary_Cassatt_-_The_Child%27s_Bath_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg/240px-Mary_Cassatt_-_The_Child%27s_Bath_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg
(art by Mary Cassatt)
Good Mother, Bad Mother
I.
I always showered you, perhaps smothered you,
with affection. On your visitations
with Dad I would look at your pictures and cry.
When you were an infant I always let you touch
the Christmas ornaments, I wanted you to feel
and see the magical beauty the world contains
sometimes. Some years later I took you to
Build-a-Bear; you wanted a stuffed white cat
but you wanted her a tough chick, no girly stuff,
none of that frilly pink stuff, just like you,
so a tiny leather motorcycle jacket was hers.
The way I think of you, always of you, when
that sudden creeping feeling that I want to die
descends. You have saved me from myself,
you are my greatest miracle. They say, "Mother
is the name of God upon the lips of all children."
I think the opposite is true.
Though I have never found faith in anything,
I believe in the faith of the love I have for you.
If ever you passed, I would follow you.
II.
Then, I was so passive, so guilty
for divorcing your father, that I let you
have everything you wanted. Practically
let you do what you wanted. Soon you
wouldn't listen to my meek attempts
at soft-spoken guidance. That time I took
your blankie and cut it into shreds
because you wouldn't come out
of the swimming pool. That time you
wouldn't leave your bath
and I was so angry and bewildered
I hit your face with the mop brush.
How these visions haunt me, when I
look upon your lovely face in sleep.
How I wish you could have had a
different mother. Oh how hard it was,
I was too broken and dead to shape
your thinking, I could barely care
for myself.
Later the drugs, something I think
killed the sparkle in your eyes.
You've never been the same since
seeing your mother crawling on the floor
in a slurred-voice stupor. Someone once
said, "It's not about being a good mother,
but a good-enough mother." That
might bring comfort but I have crossed
the line of redemption.
Oh, my little love.
Please forgive me.
(art by Mary Cassatt)
Good Mother, Bad Mother
I.
I always showered you, perhaps smothered you,
with affection. On your visitations
with Dad I would look at your pictures and cry.
When you were an infant I always let you touch
the Christmas ornaments, I wanted you to feel
and see the magical beauty the world contains
sometimes. Some years later I took you to
Build-a-Bear; you wanted a stuffed white cat
but you wanted her a tough chick, no girly stuff,
none of that frilly pink stuff, just like you,
so a tiny leather motorcycle jacket was hers.
The way I think of you, always of you, when
that sudden creeping feeling that I want to die
descends. You have saved me from myself,
you are my greatest miracle. They say, "Mother
is the name of God upon the lips of all children."
I think the opposite is true.
Though I have never found faith in anything,
I believe in the faith of the love I have for you.
If ever you passed, I would follow you.
II.
Then, I was so passive, so guilty
for divorcing your father, that I let you
have everything you wanted. Practically
let you do what you wanted. Soon you
wouldn't listen to my meek attempts
at soft-spoken guidance. That time I took
your blankie and cut it into shreds
because you wouldn't come out
of the swimming pool. That time you
wouldn't leave your bath
and I was so angry and bewildered
I hit your face with the mop brush.
How these visions haunt me, when I
look upon your lovely face in sleep.
How I wish you could have had a
different mother. Oh how hard it was,
I was too broken and dead to shape
your thinking, I could barely care
for myself.
Later the drugs, something I think
killed the sparkle in your eyes.
You've never been the same since
seeing your mother crawling on the floor
in a slurred-voice stupor. Someone once
said, "It's not about being a good mother,
but a good-enough mother." That
might bring comfort but I have crossed
the line of redemption.
Oh, my little love.
Please forgive me.
Kiara
i woke up too drunk to fake sick
couldn't have stayed home anyway
test today
like I studied
so here i sit
watching the deconstruction of minds
pretending to give a shit
cool kids snarl at me
confirming my non existence
geek
four eyed freak
I ask a question I know there's no answer for
just so I can justify getting high during recess
better my 420 than dad's .44
there's been enough blood on the playgrounds
Next day ...
she tells me she's pregnant
says I'm her favorite
the only one who seems to care
everyone likes my jokes
she doesn't want to go home
neither do I
so we grade papers and talk
tell her my mom was a teenage mother
strongest woman I know
more stories
she laughs
she cries
asks me my name
my real name
why
If it's a boy
his middle name will be mine
I walk her out
Thank her
Yesterday?
That was then, today I was a teacher again
i woke up too drunk to fake sick
couldn't have stayed home anyway
test today
like I studied
so here i sit
watching the deconstruction of minds
pretending to give a shit
cool kids snarl at me
confirming my non existence
geek
four eyed freak
I ask a question I know there's no answer for
just so I can justify getting high during recess
better my 420 than dad's .44
there's been enough blood on the playgrounds
Next day ...
she tells me she's pregnant
says I'm her favorite
the only one who seems to care
everyone likes my jokes
she doesn't want to go home
neither do I
so we grade papers and talk
tell her my mom was a teenage mother
strongest woman I know
more stories
she laughs
she cries
asks me my name
my real name
why
If it's a boy
his middle name will be mine
I walk her out
Thank her
Yesterday?
That was then, today I was a teacher again
Thanks, LSP, and to you, too, Snuggle. Donnie, I appreciate you for this comp. which I found very challenging, and for its highly creative theme. Always a pleasure to work with you guys, such gifted poets you are... Once more, my sincerest gratitude for the win; you don't know how much it means to me. Have a great week, guys. :)
