Poetry competition CLOSED 8th June 2016 4:10pm
WINNER
mysteriouslady
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RUNNER-UP: calamitygin

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A House On Sticks

poet Anonymous

Poetry Contest

A slice of the past
Take us back in time, re-visit a home, a place or dwelling.  Capture a slice from your past, good or bad, share the memories.

One entry per poet
Old or new (No previous winners)
No collabs
Poems only, no word limit
Title your work
2 weeks

Thank you

Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
Tyrant of Words
United States 154awards
Joined 9th Nov 2015
Forum Posts: 5134

FAITH

During one late summer, I took a trip where
the native grasses grew as high as the flanks
of my grandfather's bay horse, the one with the
dark line of equine heritage down its spine.  

He used him then as a pleasure horse ridden
when he had time, but he hardly ever did,
especially once his brood started to grow.

That's when he hooked up the proud bay to a plow,
that turned the rich soil so that he could plant crops
to start in with helping to feed one and all.    
 
My grandfather had two broods actually.
The first was five children with his wife Marie
who all died in the pandemic of '18.

The second was five more with his final wife.
The union lived long, and they all lived long lives,
With my grandfather living a century.

Longevity brings so many changes,
uprooting, and moving many times over.
Nothing stays the same, even when you want to.
It never stays young, only memories do.
 
After journey by plane, by train, then by car,
I made my way through the bread basket of
a nation that fed us, and stayed on to
rebuild when tornadoes ravaged and tested
the steadfastness of farmers & families.  
   
I came to a piece of land a fraction the size
of what it used to be eighty years before,
where an old house sat square in the middle.  

I slowly approached and crossed the threshold
where grandfather carried his bride Catherine, and
their first-born on that first day to their new home.                  
                   
As my sight got used to the darkness within,
I then saw a beauty that I'd never known,
in spite of, because of, the wallpaper, stained
emotive in silence of deep'ning shadows.

The layers of dust-settled outlining frames
of tobacco smoke where once pictures had hung,
and aromas from generations ago.

How many chicken dinners, and rubarb pies
with golden flaky crusts made of lard, passed through
the wood-burning stove in a land few trees grew.

And appetites after a long day of raising
kids and corn and cows and crops and chickens,
coming from a kitchen, with its threadbare
bone of porcelain, and curled-back linoleum floors.

This once-proud home, arthritic & asthmatic,
with listing second-floor railings of gingerbread
and sagging eves, eyeing me suspiciously.  
   
I listened to the distant whine of a windmill
being buffeted by frequent breezes' moan,
signals that the last of summer was upon us.

The frantic thrashing of a blue bottle fly,
captured between a window pane and its screen.  

The journey I'd taken in very few steps
brought other sounds I'd never heard until then.  

The phantom barking of the family Spaniel,
who had gone blind from cataracts by then.  

And the shouts of children dressing for church,
spilling onto the covered porch, running
across the weedy grass, to where smoke belched
and backfired from the exhaust of their dad's fliver.                
                   
The steeple, pointing towards the striking blue
of afternoon, of the church three miles south,
the windows and doors boarded up from the
prairie's reclamation of its original faith,

began to sound a bell that called the sheep
to come and worship; its peal was clear and
humbling, as was the thunder, when it would
warn them that it was time to start the trek home.


 Copyright ©2015-2016 Jade Pandora. All Rights Reserved                
               

poet Anonymous

Thank you Jade for kicking off the comp with your gorgeous entry.

Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
Tyrant of Words
United States 154awards
Joined 9th Nov 2015
Forum Posts: 5134

Thank you very much, host Vee, it's definitely my pleasure.  And it's nice to meet you.

JohnFeddeler
Tyrant of Words
United States 83awards
Joined 18th Jan 2013
Forum Posts: 325


         crooked rainbow


the roof leaks & the faucet drips.
after a sullen evening rain, they harmonize in a
vagrant duet of teardrop melodies. the gimpy
icebox knocks, adding tympany to the moody,
echoing blues.

sometimes when I’m sober, I make a half-ass
commitment to get all these arthritic maladies  
repaired, make this old house tenable for myself
& the whispering ghosts…
…or burn it down.

just beyond the front porch, the small animals,
chipmunks & rabbits, worry that this solitary man
will deplete the glories of their haven.
& the willows have a reason to weep.

when sunlight breaks thru the blemished glass in
the window, it smudges the wall with a crooked
rainbow. I embrace the elusive joy of it; it’s as
close as I’ll ever get to the flirt of gold.

(on a night when you’re in bed without a lover,
think of me for only a moment.
then sleep.)



7wednesdays
Twisted Dreamer
United States 3awards
Joined 22nd May 2012
Forum Posts: 41

Ice House

After it was a Food Lion
and before it was a Harris Teeter,
the Ice Castle
of Newton/Conover
was a rinky dinky rink.

Too small to hold
figure skating competitions
and ice hockey tournaments,
Ice Castle was just
a place to skate.

To practice for competitions in big cities like Atlanta
To work up a sweat in the frigid palace
To spin so dizzy the rink becomes maze
To jump
To land
To fall
To ache

Ice Castle was a rink,
a rinky-dink rink.
The holes in the roof
made bubbles on the ice.
Sometimes in the summer
there were puddles to hurdle.

Just a place to skate
my rinky-dink rink.
My Ice Castle melted,
to naught but a mote.

HarleyQinn_2
DarkSnake1010
Thought Provoker
United States 2awards
Joined 26th Feb 2016
Forum Posts: 218

ill be writting soon.nice comp

calamitygin
Jennifer Michael McCurry
Tyrant of Words
United States 28awards
Joined 22nd June 2015
Forum Posts: 2047

8
https://youtu.be/WFrmapGCuhs
 
It was my Birthday.  
And I would cry if I wanted.  
Brooke had just roller skated over my brand new Toni Basil record!  
Oh Mickey...damnit!
And in my new skates and blue tutu!!  
She was a bully back then  
And a total bitch now.  
 
Reminds me I'm sposed to call her.  
 
Later.  
Four little girls in a tub,  
rub a dub dub.  
Four sudsy love notes.  
Two to Ricky Shroader  
One to Cory Haim  
And a bubbly one in red crayon to Bill Murray. Mine.  
Was a strange kid, dug funny men then dig em now.  
 
"Go to sleep girls! Its late!!"  
 
Oh dad, he could be such a drag.  
Understand, this was serious play.  
I mean, Barbie was inconsolable!  
She didn't get the dream house, again.  
Skipper had just made out with Ken!  
Barbie was used to a perfect world.  
That just wasn't her pink day.  
 
Quiet lasted about ten seconds before the giggling continued.  
 
We went to the zoo in the morning.  
So exited, a couple boys met us there!  
The snake house was my usual favorite..
Today... it was the giant turtles.  
Sammy crawled under the fence and onto ones back!  
Rode the huge confused ol girl.
We were hysterical with laughter, he got in so much trouble.  
 
It was goodbye Bill, hello Sammy.  
Not so much as a so long and sorry to be fickle.  
But funny AND a bad boy, I was his.  
 
Looking back, this might have been the start of that life long pattern.  
At any rate.  
There would be a new bubble bath love letter later that night. .  
 
 
 
 

poet Anonymous


The Gift


I cursed God a blessing
on the day my daughter was born;
because he allowed me
to be
the mother my mother wasn’t



(sorry mom, wherever you are, but you failed me)





calamitygin
Jennifer Michael McCurry
Tyrant of Words
United States 28awards
Joined 22nd June 2015
Forum Posts: 2047

7wednesdays said:Ice House

After it was a Food Lion
and before it was a Harris Teeter,
the Ice Castle
of Newton/Conover
was a rinky dinky rink.

Too small to hold
figure skating competitions
and ice hockey tournaments,
Ice Castle was just
a place to skate.

To practice for competitions in big cities like Atlanta
To work up a sweat in the frigid palace
To spin so dizzy the rink becomes maze
To jump
To land
To fall
To ache

Ice Castle was a rink,
a rinky-dink rink.
The holes in the roof
made bubbles on the ice.
Sometimes in the summer
there were puddles to hurdle.

Just a place to skate
my rinky-dink rink.
My Ice Castle melted,
to naught but a mote.


Loved!!
So loved....

poet Anonymous

Very good to see you Devlin, Jen, 7Wednesdays and John in this comp, thank you all very much!

Harley, I look forward seeing your entry.  
Jade nice to meet you too and I'm enjoying being here again :)

mysteriouslady
Tyrant of Words
United States 15awards
Joined 11th Aug 2012
Forum Posts: 2400

Long Live The D....313
 
2 story bungalow
not completely on skid row
but theres an alley out back
 
Runnin through the streets
disheveled, never neat
us snot~nosed brats ruled the world
 
Cambriges and a 40
nights atop burnt building, oh lordy
my youth was full of surprises
 
When the sun goes to sleep
huge lights lit the streets
and thats when you got your ass home
 
Who's got the ripple?
no drooling on the nipple
of the bottle that fed my youth
 
Once in while, I take a ride
the kids duck down in back and hide
my childhood home is only a pile of ashes
 
With tears in my eyes
as I blow a kiss and say good bye
thank the stars most of us got out alive....
 

russiamagda
Twisted Dreamer
United States 4awards
Joined 20th Mar 2016
Forum Posts: 83

beach club

each green and white strip crossingg through my mind
intertwining each puzzle piece of a soft memory
easy to crush with each wave of the ocean that had pulled me away
further it grasped me away from the sand

the large sunhats floating across one scalp to another
blood escapes my knee and seeps in hidden measures of water
the grey ponytail, loose, stretches from my youthful brown strands of hair
surrounding itself in water

my warm face splashes up to air
and only drops of ocean waves remain on my cherry cheeks
arms furiously slam the water, repeatedly taking me back to land
my mom is awaiting me in flip flops and a black tank top
she smiles, and inquiries escape her tongue
my mouth reflects hers and the answers return back

a memory rotating
around the same head under a bright sky and in a deep ocean,
it flows back to my mind when clouds depart my thoughts
opening a passageway to years past,
i take each chance to enter, and i savour the taste, as much i savoured ice pops and fruit roll-ups from the box, sitting under the sun

running away from bees
wrapped around damp towels,
with hair soaked from sandy waters, swam in by those before our time
i sit under the inclosed clouds of my past,
waiting for a depart.

poet Anonymous

M-Lady and R-Magda...beautiful poetry, thank you!

russiamagda
Twisted Dreamer
United States 4awards
Joined 20th Mar 2016
Forum Posts: 83

Thank you :)

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