Poetry competition CLOSED 11th June 2016 9:43am
WINNER
JohnnyBlaze
JohnnyBlaze
Page:
Psychic Treasures
Poetry Contest Description
The treasures revealed by the psychic sitting in front of me?
Ever been to a Psychic?
Was the news good, bad or indifferent?
How was the experience?
Did it change you or your belief, space and understanding?
What did you learn?
Would you do it again?
Give me a tight, well written piece of poetry, between 200 and 500 words. That is descriptive of the above.
Excited to read these, so go, go, go!
-x-
Was the news good, bad or indifferent?
How was the experience?
Did it change you or your belief, space and understanding?
What did you learn?
Would you do it again?
Give me a tight, well written piece of poetry, between 200 and 500 words. That is descriptive of the above.
Excited to read these, so go, go, go!
-x-
Psychic Trip
It was a girls' night out on one Friday eve,
When I and some friends on a jaunt to the mall,
All gayly lit up for Christmas holiday.
The tri-level mall was a sight to behold;
Every floor made of glass that you could see through.
And there at the top between two other shops
Was sandwiched an open-air stall, with a sign:
A wide-open hand with a seeing-all eye,
With a network of lines criss-crossing its palm.
"Your Fortune Read" it said, the mystic is IN,
Its slight buzz of neon green glared unblinking;
For five dollars each seemed too good to be true.
The stall was too small for us all to fit in,
So half of us stayed and the rest of us left
Till each girl was called back when it was her turn.
So as for me next door, I hovered nearby,
Pretending to shop, distracted to listen
With ear to the glass so that I overheard
A mystical voice speaking low as she said:
"I see from the ball, and the cards where they lie,
You're taking a long ocean voyage this spring."
I left where I was to the escalators
And went down a flight for a frothy orange shake.
By the time I returned while sucking a straw
I leaned once again to the very same wall:
A mystical voice speaking low as she said:
"I see from the ball, and the cards where they lie,
You're taking a long ocean voyage this spring."
I didn't think too much of what I'd just heard,
For now I heard my name, my turn was up next.
I entered the stall of color reflections,
A woman in black offered me a hard chair.
Her smile a rouged smile through curtains of long hair,
I noticed that she was no older than me.
I'd never before consulted a psychic
Especially for pay, so that was just weird,
But hand her the greenback I did willingly.
It felt very strange, so aloft like a bird
In a nest made of crystalline threads & sticks.
My eyes shifted round as I kept my back straight,
Not wanting to give away my mental state.
There wasn't a clue, not a gypsy in sight
When it came to the native accoutrements:
No candles or incense, no wall tapestries,
No brass bells from fringes across a threshold
Not even the charm of an old wagon wheel.
She shuffled her Tarot card deck thoughtfully
As dozens of slender brass bracelets jangled,
While staggering cards, and divining her ball.
She then raised her mascara eyes to meet mine,
With one henna hand that raised up to her neck,
The guttural sound of her clearing her throat,
Then she spoke:
"I see from the ball, and the cards where they lie,
You're taking a long ocean voyage this spring."
It was a girls' night out on one Friday eve,
When I and some friends on a jaunt to the mall,
All gayly lit up for Christmas holiday.
The tri-level mall was a sight to behold;
Every floor made of glass that you could see through.
And there at the top between two other shops
Was sandwiched an open-air stall, with a sign:
A wide-open hand with a seeing-all eye,
With a network of lines criss-crossing its palm.
"Your Fortune Read" it said, the mystic is IN,
Its slight buzz of neon green glared unblinking;
For five dollars each seemed too good to be true.
The stall was too small for us all to fit in,
So half of us stayed and the rest of us left
Till each girl was called back when it was her turn.
So as for me next door, I hovered nearby,
Pretending to shop, distracted to listen
With ear to the glass so that I overheard
A mystical voice speaking low as she said:
"I see from the ball, and the cards where they lie,
You're taking a long ocean voyage this spring."
I left where I was to the escalators
And went down a flight for a frothy orange shake.
By the time I returned while sucking a straw
I leaned once again to the very same wall:
A mystical voice speaking low as she said:
"I see from the ball, and the cards where they lie,
You're taking a long ocean voyage this spring."
I didn't think too much of what I'd just heard,
For now I heard my name, my turn was up next.
I entered the stall of color reflections,
A woman in black offered me a hard chair.
Her smile a rouged smile through curtains of long hair,
I noticed that she was no older than me.
I'd never before consulted a psychic
Especially for pay, so that was just weird,
But hand her the greenback I did willingly.
It felt very strange, so aloft like a bird
In a nest made of crystalline threads & sticks.
My eyes shifted round as I kept my back straight,
Not wanting to give away my mental state.
There wasn't a clue, not a gypsy in sight
When it came to the native accoutrements:
No candles or incense, no wall tapestries,
No brass bells from fringes across a threshold
Not even the charm of an old wagon wheel.
She shuffled her Tarot card deck thoughtfully
As dozens of slender brass bracelets jangled,
While staggering cards, and divining her ball.
She then raised her mascara eyes to meet mine,
With one henna hand that raised up to her neck,
The guttural sound of her clearing her throat,
Then she spoke:
"I see from the ball, and the cards where they lie,
You're taking a long ocean voyage this spring."
Strange Fire
I know how
I am going to write these poems
just biding time here
waiting for their inspirations to happen
during the moment when
Future becomes Present
sometimes reflecting on the Past
how he was certain my
unfinished
book would be published
then went on to describe
a scene in particular
to the best of his paranormal abilities
as concerning strange fire
which was pretty fucking amazing
considering
I never shared this story with anyone
Twenty-something years later
I sometimes think about that psychic
about that novel I tried writing
how it was never published
because I never finished
the damned thing
Not that I could anyhow
due to the only copy of it
being utterly destroyed
in a word processor malfunction
nor am I of the desire to resurrect it
having abandoned long fiction ago
Or is that fiction long ago?
Nevermind
I've since moved on to writing
more condensed stories
currently working on getting
a book of poetry published
which at the present moment
is only twenty percent complete
but this time around?
I will be finishing the project
I am certain it will be published
I believe in myself
Although
it doesn't hurt
that a handful of poems in particular
through no conscious planning of my own
coincidentally are about
fires started under strange circumstances
I know how
I am going to write these poems
just biding time here
waiting for their inspirations to happen
during the moment when
Future becomes Present
sometimes reflecting on the Past
how he was certain my
unfinished
book would be published
then went on to describe
a scene in particular
to the best of his paranormal abilities
as concerning strange fire
which was pretty fucking amazing
considering
I never shared this story with anyone
Twenty-something years later
I sometimes think about that psychic
about that novel I tried writing
how it was never published
because I never finished
the damned thing
Not that I could anyhow
due to the only copy of it
being utterly destroyed
in a word processor malfunction
nor am I of the desire to resurrect it
having abandoned long fiction ago
Or is that fiction long ago?
Nevermind
I've since moved on to writing
more condensed stories
currently working on getting
a book of poetry published
which at the present moment
is only twenty percent complete
but this time around?
I will be finishing the project
I am certain it will be published
I believe in myself
Although
it doesn't hurt
that a handful of poems in particular
through no conscious planning of my own
coincidentally are about
fires started under strange circumstances
https://youtu.be/EX8tFvInN3Y
Gypsy
Room filled with pillows to sit and candles lit
Throwing shadowy slants across smokey room and creaky floor...
Incense invaded every pore
And in walks an archaic stereotype
In full Romani garb
Flair of purple..flash of reds
Long raven tressed
Mystic Beauty
I half expected tambourines a concertina
And for her to start dancing...
Instead intently
She looked at me
With arch of brow...
Red smudged lip uttered low....
Words of my unknowing
Wise slow study and a gaze of ages
Twirled taloned nail
Around the bottom
Of delicate tea cup
Creating whirling sound
Around around and around and my eyes danced...
I found myself in her finger
And as she with wide thunderstruck eye
Said with both question annnd assurance
"J?"
I cried...
I yearned
For the sound of
The hint of ..."A"
And longed for the gypsy that remained
Gypsy
Room filled with pillows to sit and candles lit
Throwing shadowy slants across smokey room and creaky floor...
Incense invaded every pore
And in walks an archaic stereotype
In full Romani garb
Flair of purple..flash of reds
Long raven tressed
Mystic Beauty
I half expected tambourines a concertina
And for her to start dancing...
Instead intently
She looked at me
With arch of brow...
Red smudged lip uttered low....
Words of my unknowing
Wise slow study and a gaze of ages
Twirled taloned nail
Around the bottom
Of delicate tea cup
Creating whirling sound
Around around and around and my eyes danced...
I found myself in her finger
And as she with wide thunderstruck eye
Said with both question annnd assurance
"J?"
I cried...
I yearned
For the sound of
The hint of ..."A"
And longed for the gypsy that remained
I won a comp with this story in my local paper. It had to have 3 characters,a start middle and end expressed in under 50 words excluding title.
Dead Right
Janet really wasn't comfortable seeing a clairvoyant. ‘But she’s very good’ mum had persisted. ‘Go.’
Madam Theda gazed into her crystal, puzzled. ‘I see a death disrupting your immediate future’ she foretold ominously.
Janet shuddered. ‘A death? Whose death?
Theda made no reply as she slumped from her chair!
Dead Right
Janet really wasn't comfortable seeing a clairvoyant. ‘But she’s very good’ mum had persisted. ‘Go.’
Madam Theda gazed into her crystal, puzzled. ‘I see a death disrupting your immediate future’ she foretold ominously.
Janet shuddered. ‘A death? Whose death?
Theda made no reply as she slumped from her chair!
My victimless crime
The simian line on both of my hands
was a shock for my psychic lady,
the childhood story -a cliche depression-
the family blamable but not guilty for all
as far as I knew, my story was offshore
and I was the sea who was drowning the soul.
Deep inside me I had a tent for all my fears
my tears would never leave the wind to destroy it
the psychic lady, saint face, wise smile, safe eyes,
she grabbed my soul with cotton words and I gave in
I didn’t know what to expect, I was just scared
of the moment she would find a past moment to begin.
She took a card and then another, more powerful,
she looked straight into both of my eyes
I felt a predictive laser digging my mystery
“you never speak with your dad”, she said,
but she didn’t know that that’s the least I care
“your mom is a control freak”, she said in my head.
I was living in England at this period of time
I had already made the long trip she was about to say
“I see you’ll go to live abroad” she then obviously said,
I was bored of it, I felt like I had no future in me
but after a couple of months I moved to Spain
like destiny told me from her mouth’s tree!
She gave me some advice of how to live my life
my eyes accepted it, my inner gorilla spit it away,
feeling alone in my one bedroom flat but never sad
saying good bye to her and thank you very much
she looked at the atmosphere and waved her head
smiled like a kid refreshing all the vows I could touch.
“good bye my friends, take care of him”, she whispered
and I felt a breeze like a momentary release of time
entering my skin, my errors, my lips, my victimless crime.
The simian line on both of my hands
was a shock for my psychic lady,
the childhood story -a cliche depression-
the family blamable but not guilty for all
as far as I knew, my story was offshore
and I was the sea who was drowning the soul.
Deep inside me I had a tent for all my fears
my tears would never leave the wind to destroy it
the psychic lady, saint face, wise smile, safe eyes,
she grabbed my soul with cotton words and I gave in
I didn’t know what to expect, I was just scared
of the moment she would find a past moment to begin.
She took a card and then another, more powerful,
she looked straight into both of my eyes
I felt a predictive laser digging my mystery
“you never speak with your dad”, she said,
but she didn’t know that that’s the least I care
“your mom is a control freak”, she said in my head.
I was living in England at this period of time
I had already made the long trip she was about to say
“I see you’ll go to live abroad” she then obviously said,
I was bored of it, I felt like I had no future in me
but after a couple of months I moved to Spain
like destiny told me from her mouth’s tree!
She gave me some advice of how to live my life
my eyes accepted it, my inner gorilla spit it away,
feeling alone in my one bedroom flat but never sad
saying good bye to her and thank you very much
she looked at the atmosphere and waved her head
smiled like a kid refreshing all the vows I could touch.
“good bye my friends, take care of him”, she whispered
and I felt a breeze like a momentary release of time
entering my skin, my errors, my lips, my victimless crime.
For me in this one, the winner is as clear as daylight.
Mr Blaze, there is no doubt in my mind -x-
In terms of the remaining three (Mr. Cat, I considered yours; to be open discussion rather than an entry, yes? Especially as the piece won the comp it was written for.)
Now, I didn't award runners up in comp; lets face it, the remaining 3 pieces from Jade, Calamity & Artemios would all three sit perfectly on this page as the 1st Runner up and as such, I have called it equity among the three of you!
Well done. was fun to read -x-
Blue Skies at you all -x-
Mr Blaze, there is no doubt in my mind -x-
In terms of the remaining three (Mr. Cat, I considered yours; to be open discussion rather than an entry, yes? Especially as the piece won the comp it was written for.)
Now, I didn't award runners up in comp; lets face it, the remaining 3 pieces from Jade, Calamity & Artemios would all three sit perfectly on this page as the 1st Runner up and as such, I have called it equity among the three of you!
Well done. was fun to read -x-
Blue Skies at you all -x-
