Poetry competition CLOSED 8th July 2016 5:33pm
WINNER
Trixareforkids
Trixareforkids
RUNNER-UP:
UnderYourSpell
Don't Pick Me
When I write, I write to lose myself in the essence of my words, the who and what I am, from the inside out, that's what my writing is really about.
The method to excerise the madness, the means to an end, the listeners, the impact, if made...then I win.
If one word uplifts or a sentence inspires,
if a paragraph shifts the flames of desire,
if a poem reignites creativity's fire, my trophy; my passion...nothing else gets me higher.
The method to excerise the madness, the means to an end, the listeners, the impact, if made...then I win.
If one word uplifts or a sentence inspires,
if a paragraph shifts the flames of desire,
if a poem reignites creativity's fire, my trophy; my passion...nothing else gets me higher.
Shrinking Violet
Don’t pick me, please
I can’t take the pressure and attention.
All that would follow would be unrealistic expectations
That my sweet purple fragrance would constantly beautify.
If you plucked me out of the garden of humble obscurity,
Even with my stem dipped in a vase of creative juices
I would wither
And die
Don’t pick me, please
I can’t take the pressure and attention.
All that would follow would be unrealistic expectations
That my sweet purple fragrance would constantly beautify.
If you plucked me out of the garden of humble obscurity,
Even with my stem dipped in a vase of creative juices
I would wither
And die
Anonymous
Words With Felons
Quoth the Raven
I know, I know
burned through the royalties
I was savin'
and ended up Poe
ineligible
to win any contest
due to being a con
scratching out unintelligible verse
with a rock on
my cell wall
What up, Yawl?
I be robbin' banks of angst
no thanks to Madame Warden
affordin' me no time served
for this rap undeserved
letting the General Population
come at me with shanks
while I shower with felons
feelin' unnerved
as I bend over for the soap
any hope for early parole
they yanks annually
in reprisal wicked
and dope for the clanks of my
chain gang gangsta poetry
all because I fell on hard times
ratted out by a stool pigeon
without choice but to live
a life of lyrical crimes
caged with these other dirty birds
for abusing words
using them twice in my rhymes ...
... but that's what happens
when you're in for a long sentence
Quoth the Raven
I know, I know
burned through the royalties
I was savin'
and ended up Poe
ineligible
to win any contest
due to being a con
scratching out unintelligible verse
with a rock on
my cell wall
What up, Yawl?
I be robbin' banks of angst
no thanks to Madame Warden
affordin' me no time served
for this rap undeserved
letting the General Population
come at me with shanks
while I shower with felons
feelin' unnerved
as I bend over for the soap
any hope for early parole
they yanks annually
in reprisal wicked
and dope for the clanks of my
chain gang gangsta poetry
all because I fell on hard times
ratted out by a stool pigeon
without choice but to live
a life of lyrical crimes
caged with these other dirty birds
for abusing words
using them twice in my rhymes ...
... but that's what happens
when you're in for a long sentence
Anonymous
Why I shouldn’t win
A win would feed my egotistical megalomania
Fuelling an obsessive desire for mass exposure and crass domination
Cementing an overt sense of self importance to a level rarely reached
Prompting the implosion of my compassion and a rebirth of pubescent malice
Disrespectful superciliousness will reign for a thousand milliseconds
Breaking the mind of a comfortable loser momentary
Unleashing a monster from the depths of an oceanic trench
A win would feed my egotistical megalomania
Fuelling an obsessive desire for mass exposure and crass domination
Cementing an overt sense of self importance to a level rarely reached
Prompting the implosion of my compassion and a rebirth of pubescent malice
Disrespectful superciliousness will reign for a thousand milliseconds
Breaking the mind of a comfortable loser momentary
Unleashing a monster from the depths of an oceanic trench
The winner takes it all
Pick me up from home and take me out tonight
I need to lose this star I’m keeping inside,
don’t pick me for a winner, I don’t know how to smile
I use the emoticons, so easy but too perfect, always nice.
Pick me up from last summer and let me breathe your lips
I need a cascade to run through my favorite lies,
don’t pick me up for a winner, I fail to fight
I use the words that I’m unable to live, dark or bright, always crying.
Pick me up for a loser, I’ve forgotten to count zero eyes
I feel like a cliché that needs to be written
I feel like a metaphor that it’s thrown in reality
don’t pick me up for a winner, I won’t be able to congratulate me.
Don’t pick me up for a winner
being selected means you are different,
don’t pick me up for a winner
I need to correct what has been written
don’t pick me up for a winner
my muse will be jealous of the night I was awake.
I would destroy this poem
the structure
the style
the feeling
just not to win a number, a smudge to my forehead.
I would delete all the commas
the fool stops
the space
and then, when I’m sure, there is no win on my face,
I will listen to ABBA
the WINNER takes it all…..
crying for my ability to miss a glorious hard on.
Pick me up from home and take me out tonight
I need to lose this star I’m keeping inside,
don’t pick me for a winner, I don’t know how to smile
I use the emoticons, so easy but too perfect, always nice.
Pick me up from last summer and let me breathe your lips
I need a cascade to run through my favorite lies,
don’t pick me up for a winner, I fail to fight
I use the words that I’m unable to live, dark or bright, always crying.
Pick me up for a loser, I’ve forgotten to count zero eyes
I feel like a cliché that needs to be written
I feel like a metaphor that it’s thrown in reality
don’t pick me up for a winner, I won’t be able to congratulate me.
Don’t pick me up for a winner
being selected means you are different,
don’t pick me up for a winner
I need to correct what has been written
don’t pick me up for a winner
my muse will be jealous of the night I was awake.
I would destroy this poem
the structure
the style
the feeling
just not to win a number, a smudge to my forehead.
I would delete all the commas
the fool stops
the space
and then, when I’m sure, there is no win on my face,
I will listen to ABBA
the WINNER takes it all…..
crying for my ability to miss a glorious hard on.
Anonymous
Foiled again by that southern minx.
Anonymous
Do not worry Madame, we both know why you could not pick me <wink,wink>
