Poetry competition CLOSED 5th August 2016 10:25am
WINNER
LobodeSanPedro
LobodeSanPedro
RUNNER-UP:
_shadoe_
EDVARD MUNCH
... thou art with me ... ?
perpetual crucification hangs like ripened fruit
whose billowing rogations mask the stench of stained skin
the gurgling river entombed below thy rind
is syphoned with spigots injected with Marx's opiate
pockmarked and tattooed are thy wrists and forearms
trace the forty year exodus to the very crevices between thy toes
every vessel for release is flooded with smoke laced incantations
press thy forehead upon the wall, for balance is needed to relieve thyself
thump
thump
thump
it's encrusted in the membrane of thy aril
God will forgive all thy sins
but who forgives his
Death in the sick room
(Not for comp consideration ... The painting resonated with something I'd written prior, and I felt compelled to post it as I have two loved ones battling cancer. I'll submit a new piece shortly. Thank you.)
perpetual crucification hangs like ripened fruit
whose billowing rogations mask the stench of stained skin
the gurgling river entombed below thy rind
is syphoned with spigots injected with Marx's opiate
pockmarked and tattooed are thy wrists and forearms
trace the forty year exodus to the very crevices between thy toes
every vessel for release is flooded with smoke laced incantations
press thy forehead upon the wall, for balance is needed to relieve thyself
thump
thump
thump
it's encrusted in the membrane of thy aril
God will forgive all thy sins
but who forgives his
Death in the sick room
(Not for comp consideration ... The painting resonated with something I'd written prior, and I felt compelled to post it as I have two loved ones battling cancer. I'll submit a new piece shortly. Thank you.)
Anonymous
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Scream
whilst watching others
his world distorts
watching them leave
watching their betrayal
watching their treachery
attempting to speak
but ends up screaming
the view becomes hell
the people become demons
he becomes a tortured soul
until the scream ends
whilst watching others
his world distorts
watching them leave
watching their betrayal
watching their treachery
attempting to speak
but ends up screaming
the view becomes hell
the people become demons
he becomes a tortured soul
until the scream ends
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
http://cultura.elpais.com/cultura/imagenes/2004/12/23/actualidad/1103756401_850215_0000000002_sumario_normal.jpg
Madonna
each morning I get up early
just to feel the meadow cry
her tears crushed beneath my feet
sometimes I cry with her
though meek are my offerings
I offer my breasts as vessels
as a mother should
a butterfly studies the freckles upon them
she's chased away by a honeybee
but there is no nectar to bleed
I brush my fingers against a surly old tree
for he has dropped so many of his little chandeliers
I pick up the thorny brown hives
and inhale their wet mint
my lungs coated with the musk of eucalyptus
each evening before I retire to his bed
I linger in the meadow just to feel her cry
her sun is leaving after another days work
the silver haired one slips between the sheets
though meek are my offerings
Madonna
each morning I get up early
just to feel the meadow cry
her tears crushed beneath my feet
sometimes I cry with her
though meek are my offerings
I offer my breasts as vessels
as a mother should
a butterfly studies the freckles upon them
she's chased away by a honeybee
but there is no nectar to bleed
I brush my fingers against a surly old tree
for he has dropped so many of his little chandeliers
I pick up the thorny brown hives
and inhale their wet mint
my lungs coated with the musk of eucalyptus
each evening before I retire to his bed
I linger in the meadow just to feel her cry
her sun is leaving after another days work
the silver haired one slips between the sheets
though meek are my offerings
the hands
red yellow green pale
singled into the centermost sleaze
insensate potent and impolite
fingers as if formed in air
now hissing like a firing squad
now to breach the lavish lacework
of the night's soft hair
and strip every vestige there.
naked she looks away
(horrified the more to be leered at by demons,
or by God's own eyes of incest?)
the clock strikes half past eight
and i move along. to be honest,
i see no cause to invent stories further,
she is heroine enough who smuggles her heart through.
--
ok so i dont particularly like contests, but i whipped this one up in hopes that it would help me break my current bout of writers block.
some tremendous entries in this thread btw!
Anonymous
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Anonymous
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Anonymous
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Anonymous
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Leave the curtain wide
spying neighbors learn to love
truth naked and deep
http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SqvnNZTyiZM/TjVWTQLGPlI/AAAAAAAAABM/87ddF6DpVnE/s1600/galleri+K_MUNCH_the+kiss.jpg
Picture: "The Kiss" by Edvard Munch
spying neighbors learn to love
truth naked and deep
http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SqvnNZTyiZM/TjVWTQLGPlI/AAAAAAAAABM/87ddF6DpVnE/s1600/galleri+K_MUNCH_the+kiss.jpg
Picture: "The Kiss" by Edvard Munch
Anonymous
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Anonymous
Thank you for hosting and for the nod Mourganna and congratulations all around, everyone did a superb job in this comp.
