Poetry competition CLOSED 10th July 2011 2:34am
WINNER
Viddax (Lord Viddax)
Viddax (Lord Viddax)
Loneliness
Anonymous
Poetry Contest Description
Write a poem about loneliness. Maximum ten lines and you can't use similes.
I'll judge the entries in three weeks.
I've never been in a room where
eyes make up the night sky stars,
but tonight the skies look upon me,
as I look at my feet.
a glass or bottle, two down either way
I don't really remember.
I just know that I had to sit down in the middle
and cry,
because the skies didn't want me on the earth,
and neither did I.
eyes make up the night sky stars,
but tonight the skies look upon me,
as I look at my feet.
a glass or bottle, two down either way
I don't really remember.
I just know that I had to sit down in the middle
and cry,
because the skies didn't want me on the earth,
and neither did I.
Anonymous
[font=Verdana]Thank you Kameron that was lovely.
Anonymous
Heads down, fingers kissing, smudged forehead;
the Creator, the Source, the knotted palm
of anxiety looks at his dancing comets,
his lovestruck stars,
his empty skeleton's hand.
And he pulls a ballpoint on society's pink cheeks,
crossing x's above dotted lines,
and hoping for a stable retirement plan
(or a third hand
to hold in his own).
the Creator, the Source, the knotted palm
of anxiety looks at his dancing comets,
his lovestruck stars,
his empty skeleton's hand.
And he pulls a ballpoint on society's pink cheeks,
crossing x's above dotted lines,
and hoping for a stable retirement plan
(or a third hand
to hold in his own).
Anonymous
Black-beetles in infinite realms of shit, smiling;
here is the part where you frown.
Understand the nature of leaning against a wall
people talking, walking about, not realizing
apocalypse happening
NOW
Stomach churns and eyes wander, cellphone ceases its functions
I wonder if the satellites care about blood in here
The ceiling fan is cool
Bach sounds more distant than ever.
here is the part where you frown.
Understand the nature of leaning against a wall
people talking, walking about, not realizing
apocalypse happening
NOW
Stomach churns and eyes wander, cellphone ceases its functions
I wonder if the satellites care about blood in here
The ceiling fan is cool
Bach sounds more distant than ever.
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Isolated Memorandum
He scurried to his photo-less, cubicle, just like any other morning.
When I look back now, it's sad that I recall his well-pressed tweed jacket and thick rimmed glasses
yet, I don't recall his name.
And the brown paper bag; always those ham and cheese sandwiches. He loved those sandwiches.
I asked him to a short, Starbucks half-lunch once. He politely declined in 4 curt words: "No, but thank you."
It's a pity he never came. His sharp, thin lips never had a bad word to say. Never really had much to say.
I remember asking him about family. He spoke very fondly of his mother, a hint of mist in his eye as he explained of her passing a few years ago.
A rare peak behind the curtain, for he always wore that hollow smile so well.
That next morning, no scurrying, no paper bag, just a post-it note on his monitor:
"I am very sorry but I will not be in work today. I hung myself last evening. My sincere apologies for any inconvenience."
He scurried to his photo-less, cubicle, just like any other morning.
When I look back now, it's sad that I recall his well-pressed tweed jacket and thick rimmed glasses
yet, I don't recall his name.
And the brown paper bag; always those ham and cheese sandwiches. He loved those sandwiches.
I asked him to a short, Starbucks half-lunch once. He politely declined in 4 curt words: "No, but thank you."
It's a pity he never came. His sharp, thin lips never had a bad word to say. Never really had much to say.
I remember asking him about family. He spoke very fondly of his mother, a hint of mist in his eye as he explained of her passing a few years ago.
A rare peak behind the curtain, for he always wore that hollow smile so well.
That next morning, no scurrying, no paper bag, just a post-it note on his monitor:
"I am very sorry but I will not be in work today. I hung myself last evening. My sincere apologies for any inconvenience."
Into Blind (SP Summerscales)
Hello , infinity night your dead out there although , I get your light .
It's lonely here below the stratosphere
were nowhere near but to me your clear , am I in your sights .
You became my friend , your dark ,you listen ,dogs bark ,street lights glisten
no end to your mission ,you bend comprehension ,can I lend some vision
to tend my dimension ,the other end of the spectrum ,you aprehend all to be done .
So once again ,hello my friend
you've always been there you breathe without air
I see you when there's nothing there ,no feet but you get everywhere .
So when we meet ,I hope that you still care .
Hello , infinity night your dead out there although , I get your light .
It's lonely here below the stratosphere
were nowhere near but to me your clear , am I in your sights .
You became my friend , your dark ,you listen ,dogs bark ,street lights glisten
no end to your mission ,you bend comprehension ,can I lend some vision
to tend my dimension ,the other end of the spectrum ,you aprehend all to be done .
So once again ,hello my friend
you've always been there you breathe without air
I see you when there's nothing there ,no feet but you get everywhere .
So when we meet ,I hope that you still care .
Empty Silence
Empty silence greets him as he walks the face of the earth
Walking her beautiful streets not seeing anyone....anything
Looking left, looking right, not a soul in sight
The lights still turn green, yellow, red
He doesn't even hear the crickets when he is in bed
He awakes only to the chirps he sings in his own mind
He walks the face of earth, searching for something to find
She cries tears upon the empty world, and him as he continues his journey
A search for a single soul, a person he can touch, a face he can see
Empty silence greets him as he walks the face of the earth
Empty silence greets him as he walks the face of the earth
Walking her beautiful streets not seeing anyone....anything
Looking left, looking right, not a soul in sight
The lights still turn green, yellow, red
He doesn't even hear the crickets when he is in bed
He awakes only to the chirps he sings in his own mind
He walks the face of earth, searching for something to find
She cries tears upon the empty world, and him as he continues his journey
A search for a single soul, a person he can touch, a face he can see
Empty silence greets him as he walks the face of the earth
She used to scold him endlessly each day
while tidying up his scattered detritus:
messed-up papers, crumpled clothes, and dishes piled at random in the sink.
But now, as he returns home from an aimless walk,
the newspapers, the dishes and the clothes
remain just as he left them hours before,
and he, un-nagged, will tidy them away
in silence, but for the ticking of the clock,
his only conversation of the day
a muttered ‘Thank you’ to a checkout girl.
while tidying up his scattered detritus:
messed-up papers, crumpled clothes, and dishes piled at random in the sink.
But now, as he returns home from an aimless walk,
the newspapers, the dishes and the clothes
remain just as he left them hours before,
and he, un-nagged, will tidy them away
in silence, but for the ticking of the clock,
his only conversation of the day
a muttered ‘Thank you’ to a checkout girl.
Anonymous
Despair
Statuesque in the shadows, scarcely making a sound,
lives a silent observer no one suspects is around.
Whispering an ancient tongue - not spoken.
Stalking eternal prey - hearts unbroken.
Blurring words of understanding offered up like vintage wine.
Clouding them from reason, while slurring them with rhyme.
Still they tumble from unsuspecting lips, soft waves to the beach;
struggling to reach safe hearth, drifting an embrace out of reach.
Well honed muscles tense as thick silence struggles to be not alone,
and the shadow in the darkness drags another lost soul home...
Statuesque in the shadows, scarcely making a sound,
lives a silent observer no one suspects is around.
Whispering an ancient tongue - not spoken.
Stalking eternal prey - hearts unbroken.
Blurring words of understanding offered up like vintage wine.
Clouding them from reason, while slurring them with rhyme.
Still they tumble from unsuspecting lips, soft waves to the beach;
struggling to reach safe hearth, drifting an embrace out of reach.
Well honed muscles tense as thick silence struggles to be not alone,
and the shadow in the darkness drags another lost soul home...
Anonymous
Misery:
These fleshy confines dragged down
Weighted beyond spiritual encumbering
The death clock ticks away endless despair
Resting listlessly upon the arm of a chair
Listening attentively to distant noises knocking
False voices are prying their visual stimulation within
Vying for attention, vaguely gazing into thin air
Bones and all prohibit expansion, nothing is there...
Misery in this life, my only companion...
These fleshy confines dragged down
Weighted beyond spiritual encumbering
The death clock ticks away endless despair
Resting listlessly upon the arm of a chair
Listening attentively to distant noises knocking
False voices are prying their visual stimulation within
Vying for attention, vaguely gazing into thin air
Bones and all prohibit expansion, nothing is there...
Misery in this life, my only companion...
