What Makes You Sad

Look and you will see

The weight of hopes and dreams  
have warped the backs of scars  
until what used to be  
is hidden beneath the twisted knots  
and the lines  
don't hold any words between them  
only doubts
and silent midnight tears  
that run from the sight of the terrible unknown  
where loneliness lurks  
under every bed  
all icy toes and prodding fingers  
always ready to crawl beneath sheets  
and snuggle in the cold corners of unused hearts  

words have never seemed  
like shadows in the light of pages before  
and eyelids have never concealed  
a shade of terror so blinding  
at the thought of looking to the future  
my glasses are rose tinted  
and imaginary
yours cracked by poking fingers
but if we let our eyes  
chase the horizon  
to where we think it ends  
we would see it is eternal

Sorry I've been gone for a while and haven't responded to these truly amazing entries. I've decided to not make comments before the contest is judged because I suppose it's not fair to everyone who enters. Just know you are a bunch of talented artists and I appreciate your participation.

(Gratuitous submission of one of my own pieces)

http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/189342.jpg

Althea

She’s haunted by a sense of futility
in everything she does. I wait
to be told I’m worthy. You knew
we could never escape, caught
by our hair under glass bottom boats.
By our parents’ white-knuckled grip.
I was drowning in the emerald music
of fish when you pulled my body
from the rocks, their song
a shivering green. Mama always taught
me to fear boys like you. To flee
the delicate danger of my own ankles.
By June I’ll succumb to the language
of bruises. The yearning for the
blue-haired girl to tell me her name.
How she strings key chains
into a necklace. We’re a little
too much in love with objects.
With hurricanes and bicycle spokes.
Tonight the air will be soaked
with honeysuckle. With humidity.
The sound of mothers pinching
terrified little faces. Of fathers
who never wanted their daughters.

The better part




I spent the better part of a year claiming insomnia was in love with me

That he would knock at my window

And that window pane/pain was greater than anything I could have handled alone

I'm sorry for that lie

Because I do still love you

The truth is
I was deathly afraid
That in the outer side of dream
There was a special hell for me

There were sea monsters in my closet
I couldn't draw a sure line
Or a shoreline to keep them at bay

I transformed spine to cage
As long as I am standing
There will be a place
For your fears and secrets

I meant to turn tongue to napkin
Let my words wipe away your tears

Instead of letting them become an ocean
Everything could drown in

Candles don't melt because of the flame
They melt because they beg the flame to take them

That was me for all the time between
Almost happy and falling

I had a galaxy for a chest
You ate milky ways for three months straight because of that

I remember
When I stood in your closet
And said see
There are no monsters inside

You asked me if I was sure
We didn't talk for three weeks

When I finally built that shoreline
The tide was much too close to me

My sand castles wait patiently
As if dying is just another thing

I guess dying is just another thing

I didn't sleep for the better part of yesterday

Afraid I would end up where slit wrists are a given

Recently I met an old man
Who forgets things
But only when the lights are off

I asked him how that feels
He says he doesn't recall
But he hopes when he leaves this world
He won't have to remember any is this

I hold his hand
I bend spine into ribbon
Tie it around my ring finger

I must remember
How standing in love feels

I spent the best part of a year
Loving every part of you

Love love love

That love
Is something
I will not forget

I spent the best part of every year
Doing this

Loss.

The word describes it succinctly I think.
That's what it is.
The fabric of your life gets torn apart, and you just know you'll never be the same.
You lose someone you could never imagine life without.
But the earth has the audacity to keep on spinning.
The sky has the effrontery to remain blue.
Birds dare to sing.
He no longer draws breath yet the world goes on as if nothing happened.
Your world left in pieces...
Yet this one doesn't give a damn.

They'll Arrive When They're meant To



There's an extra house key in the kitchen drawer, never been used
except the day it was made and I tried it out
then stood wondering where to put it
shines up at me when I need cutlery, always makes me feel
like it's got a question that I'm unqualified to answer

each morning, I choose the same coffee cup
and it's match that goes unused each time, just ignored
seems to know where I'm coming from
if that cup could talk, I think it'd be in poetry
probably sonnet style and filled with melancholy
and sometimes I'm tempted to use it
even for tea or hot chocolate, but I never do

I try to stay busy, waiting on the kettle to whistle
wipe down the fridge again, sweep up crumbs that aren't there
but it's better than standing waiting, looking up
and seeing two wineglasses, knowing only one gets used
same goes for the beer mugs beside them

and although I love walking out the back door
to check on the plants and the bird food
there's two lawn chairs sitting side by side
they sit empty all the time
I just sit on the old tree stump and look at them
with a little grill between that always makes me picture
two very happy stoners grilling something
and then marshmallows, just for the fun of it
sometimes I look down on them from the window on the stairs
just stand gazing like it's all a dream and pondering how
those chairs are always together, rain, heat, gusty winds
I decided I'll leave them out this winter
let them stay united as the snow comes and melts
they'll still be there, when it's all over

there's a brand new toothbrush in the bathroom
waiting on that three month change or me packing it up
going out of town, but I don't feel like going anywhere
and I always think the bright orange handle is a cool color
when I'm brushing my teeth or washing my hands
and it's sitting on a travel bag that I can't think of using
it amuses me that I never put it in there to wait
I really do like that color, it's the color of a kind smile

the bed has only been slept in on one side, I call it mine
though I do simultaneously laugh at how I can buy a big bed
to sleep in alone, then leave half of it for no-one
only two of the four pillows get used, except for some nights
when I somehow grab them and wake up with my arms around them
always makes me pause with indecision when I'm putting on clean cases, but I always decide to change all four
because it just seems more proper
and I'm always thinking I should turn the mattress over
to get even wear on each side, but I haven't yet

I realize there's a love seat that no lovers have ever sat in
usually just drunk friends as we play tunes and I sit in my chair
it has no match, rocks a little
and is prone to tipping backwards if you fall into it
so I feel like we've got a lot in common

I hate cooking for one, and then washing one plate, one cup, one fork, when I'm finished
I'd just as soon grab a sandwich or some cereal
though the one bowl, one spoon antics always make me think up captions to put with the photo of the drainer, each morning at nine, always looks the same
the whole kitchen always looks the same, only the trash has different levels of full each day, just depends on who's been by and what they were drinking
so really it's always just small, medium, or large stacks of beer cans
and the large stack mornings seem to find me hungover too often
needing dark sunglasses to carry the bag out and still squinting
some days I think I could save up loads of money if I recycled aluminum, but that's a whole lot of trouble for something so mind numbing, and terribly pointless with the world ending
to save Coca-Cola or Budweiser some money for the next fiscal year, just another ass kiss for Monsanto
and it's strange how I'm really lonely
but I don't want anyone's company

and the speakers, well-they are my most adored pair
as those soul enriching sounds emerge in sync in a way that always leaves me fulfilled, they sound like kindred souls would
if they could sing, at least I think it would sound like that
restoring signs of life to the depths of the dark

as I sit in my single chair with a Lager
and a spliff to play the old game of how much can we rock out before it flips and I have another t-shirt soaked in beer and ashes
look at the sofa and wonder if I'll ever change seats
let the single chair be the one I'm watching
and I ponder that, me sitting there with my lover
looking at this seat and thinking it'd be better
longing for the life of a bachelor
I wonder, then I'm convinced
the one who sits on that couch holding my hand
will hold my soul and we'll probably throw this chair into another room to make space for all the things we'll be creating
as we take dance together breaks throughout the day the way other's take smoke breaks, and we'll take no smoke breaks
because we'll believe in the Ganja and be best mates
and I can picture two lovers, laying on the carpet
looking up through the skylight at the starry night
as all of our favorite songs are playing, I know
I'll not want to be going anywhere but that spot and it'd be a mutual desire, same thing for stretching out by the fire

and everything here seems to be running smoothly and in great condition
but, something...no, someONE
is missing
and they won't be coming around tonight, which is good
because I'm exhausted
It's enough for me to know that they'll arrive
exactly when they're meant to

No Words

How could I say that I miss you
There are no words when you’re gone
Red eyes for days with a broken soul
A hole in my life that can never be filled
I fought so hard for you
But you had a one track mind
I spent nights fighting the knife away
And getting you help when you needed
I now try to block out those days
And just look back at your smile
It’s when you were the most beautiful
Those times gave me hope
That maybe you wanted to stay
At least for me…
I don’t blame you, I been there before
This world is hard and we are imperfect
But I do wish I had the right words
If I could have come up with something
You would know how much people needed you
But now there are no words, just objects
Like flowers on a grave
Or boxing up your things
Pants, shirts and a diary
Reading the pages just makes me sick
Only thoughts of broken days
There are just no words

Such beautiful work, everyone. Awesome job. Will get the results posted ASAP. Thanks.

Tick Tock...lol
Just kidding

This was my most difficult comp. yet. I mean this was really, really hard. Everyone who entered had such evocative and beautifully written entries. I wish so badly I could give more trophies because there were so many works that I loved. The reason I awarded those I did was because their particular voice and rhythm seemed to match the ones inside my head. I'd like to give a bit of explanation if it's okay. (If I'm doing something against protocol someone please let me know, as I want to go about the contests correctly and don't want to trample on anyone's toes.) Pathos' piece is as if someone is writing my own insides; Alexander's is precisely written and simply heart-wrenching, and Jessica's lyrical voice and language are redolent of my inner childhood feelings when I would read Edna St. Vincent Millay's sorrowful verse. Hopefully this is adequate justification. I apologize for such a lengthy speech. A big thank you to the winners and everyone who entered, your work was exquisite. Please keep writing, all of you. It would be a travesty if you didn't.

Thank you for the opportunity to enter this competition

Congratulations to the winner, Pathos, and to my fellow runner-up Case for doing such a great job in this contest! I am honored to have been chosen as a runner-up myself. Great job to everyone, and see you all next contest! :D

Congrats to the winner Pathos....loved your entry
and to case and Jessica...both deserving...
Great words all round... :)