Poetry competition CLOSED 27th January 2017 2:43am
WINNER
usernames_r_lame
usernames_r_lame
RUNNERS-UP:
Grace
and Alexandraaa
Promises
Poetry Contest Description
post poems talking about promises you've been told and weather or not they were kept.
Welcome to the competition
______________________
Once again I'm holding another competition and it'seems entitled Promises.
Have fun
______________________
Once again I'm holding another competition and it'seems entitled Promises.
Have fun
Promises
Like a thread I never meant to cut
I was never good at sewing anyway
Promises
Like you're voice on the phone after I told you talking on them gave me anxiety
Promises
Like endless empty boxes
Leave your shoes at the door
I walked home alone
I listened to Al Di Meola
And you never did what you said
Promises
Used to be important to me
Sitting on the swings
Singing my thoughts in the backyard
But now
Promises
Are dipped in breading and swallowed
Digested into my being
And I shit them out before I can even be mad at you for not keeping yours;
Promises
Are a lost arc;
And I am just floating
Waiting for you once again
Like a thread I never meant to cut
I was never good at sewing anyway
Promises
Like you're voice on the phone after I told you talking on them gave me anxiety
Promises
Like endless empty boxes
Leave your shoes at the door
I walked home alone
I listened to Al Di Meola
And you never did what you said
Promises
Used to be important to me
Sitting on the swings
Singing my thoughts in the backyard
But now
Promises
Are dipped in breading and swallowed
Digested into my being
And I shit them out before I can even be mad at you for not keeping yours;
Promises
Are a lost arc;
And I am just floating
Waiting for you once again
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
why do you need
to see
whats behind the door
are the words
i love you
not enough
any more
why do you insist
on looking
behind the scenes
when you know
what you will find
will not be me
yet you hope and pray
that i will change
while wishfull thinking
becomes your cage
as you lay
on your barron bed
of dispair
believing
the promise
I gave
that one day
i will care
to see
whats behind the door
are the words
i love you
not enough
any more
why do you insist
on looking
behind the scenes
when you know
what you will find
will not be me
yet you hope and pray
that i will change
while wishfull thinking
becomes your cage
as you lay
on your barron bed
of dispair
believing
the promise
I gave
that one day
i will care
Anonymous
The Inheritance Of Loss
The Damned (chapter 1)
How did the conversation turn from wanton
Metaphors of Babylon to Sun-Tzu, with a tragic undertone
Of edges slightly over sewn
Word association was never our strength like
A wind upon a stormy sea, to manifold with audacity of
Well contrived strategy for an eighth sin
Deft, with the precision of a practiced hand
Orchestrating a feeble dance in the house of doomed
Disdained. Dreamers dreaming of a chance
How romantic.
How morbidly funny to be compared with
The weight of a Roman coin
Questions are blameless. Blame love and the glory of
Fallen; timeless sages: Rumi, Eros, pillars of Jachin and Boaz
Journey to Jerusalem with memories in fields of gold
The damned moon can fold its grey rays in
The granite womb. Dubious beams on lovestruck Majnoon
To bleed in my wounds, is an agony to bear.
The Therapy (chapter 2)
The therapist explained how codependency is irrational destruction to a relationship. Shifting in her seat, putting her notebook aside, pensively gazing the room; how with emotional investments one develops expectations.
The couple sitting in the loveseat across from her heard with selective empathy, negotiating in their minds with truth, each claiming contribution with half accountability.
“I want to know why she never trusts me. Always insisting I’m wrong. Every conversation leads to another woman, another email, late evenings, early mornings, online, offline. I can never reassure her how much she actually means to me!”
He glances assertively in her direction, sitting next to him at arms length yet countless frayed thoughts away. She was shaking her head, pulling back every strand of hair in a swift motion to one side, clearing her throat.
He expected her to scream, ‘Fuck you!’
But she stayed silent, crossing and uncrossing her legs slowly. Breathing deeply. Hoping this time he would tell her something different, something deeper and meaningful that would erase all doubts, shattered promises imposed on her from past experiences.
Anger and resentment deferred for another day, another moment.
They hear the therapist say, ‘Let’s start again.”
The Damned (chapter 1)
How did the conversation turn from wanton
Metaphors of Babylon to Sun-Tzu, with a tragic undertone
Of edges slightly over sewn
Word association was never our strength like
A wind upon a stormy sea, to manifold with audacity of
Well contrived strategy for an eighth sin
Deft, with the precision of a practiced hand
Orchestrating a feeble dance in the house of doomed
Disdained. Dreamers dreaming of a chance
How romantic.
How morbidly funny to be compared with
The weight of a Roman coin
Questions are blameless. Blame love and the glory of
Fallen; timeless sages: Rumi, Eros, pillars of Jachin and Boaz
Journey to Jerusalem with memories in fields of gold
The damned moon can fold its grey rays in
The granite womb. Dubious beams on lovestruck Majnoon
To bleed in my wounds, is an agony to bear.
The Therapy (chapter 2)
The therapist explained how codependency is irrational destruction to a relationship. Shifting in her seat, putting her notebook aside, pensively gazing the room; how with emotional investments one develops expectations.
The couple sitting in the loveseat across from her heard with selective empathy, negotiating in their minds with truth, each claiming contribution with half accountability.
“I want to know why she never trusts me. Always insisting I’m wrong. Every conversation leads to another woman, another email, late evenings, early mornings, online, offline. I can never reassure her how much she actually means to me!”
He glances assertively in her direction, sitting next to him at arms length yet countless frayed thoughts away. She was shaking her head, pulling back every strand of hair in a swift motion to one side, clearing her throat.
He expected her to scream, ‘Fuck you!’
But she stayed silent, crossing and uncrossing her legs slowly. Breathing deeply. Hoping this time he would tell her something different, something deeper and meaningful that would erase all doubts, shattered promises imposed on her from past experiences.
Anger and resentment deferred for another day, another moment.
They hear the therapist say, ‘Let’s start again.”
This just happened!
I was lying right here on my bed
watching Tom Selleck as Jessie Stone
with melancholy soundtrack music
I love Jessie Stone, I have them all
"Sea Change" is on now at the moment
Suitcase, Jessie's name for him, y'see
has just awakened from a coma
and says "I'll have a cappuccino"
the nurse by his bed is screaming loud
and then BAM - a voice - mine, says clearly
"I forget when I last had no pain"
I heard the words like it was the first
well it was since last year till this year
I've heard me say that in my head and
out loud since the pain first started in
that's why I always grab a journal
and scribble ink on page after page
and as time passes over each page
the voice in my head says precisely
"Tomorrow, I promise, tomorrow"
and I write faster like chicken scratch
like code only I can decipher
and I furrow my brow and mutter
"Tomorrow - what about tomorrow"
It says "Oh, you know, about the pain"
click of my tongue, reply in a huff
"For years you've been a broken record
Now tell me how this poem should end"
The voice in my head shouts "I promise
I told you, look, would I lie to you?"
Mama Said
You will be able
To hold your own baby girl
While you tits up strut
Stilleto toe to tip toe
With your wild sway of round ass
Giving swing to your skirt
And shaking a jello mold jiggle
With what's under your shirt
Without them feeling they have the right
To touch what they do not own
Somehow sensing you had been taken
Long before you were grown
They wont recognise you felt their hot stink of breath
Over bare young shoulder
Refusing to wait until you were older
You can dress how you please
Say whatever the fuck you want to say
And they will respect your right to be that way....
They won't feel they have the right to fuck you when you scream you don't want to be laid
. ..
No will mean No
You are safe in your skin....
You were not born already branded damaged goods
Wearing the red Neon din buzz of
Original sin....
You will be able
To hold your own baby girl
While you tits up strut
Stilleto toe to tip toe
With your wild sway of round ass
Giving swing to your skirt
And shaking a jello mold jiggle
With what's under your shirt
Without them feeling they have the right
To touch what they do not own
Somehow sensing you had been taken
Long before you were grown
They wont recognise you felt their hot stink of breath
Over bare young shoulder
Refusing to wait until you were older
You can dress how you please
Say whatever the fuck you want to say
And they will respect your right to be that way....
They won't feel they have the right to fuck you when you scream you don't want to be laid
. ..
No will mean No
You are safe in your skin....
You were not born already branded damaged goods
Wearing the red Neon din buzz of
Original sin....
Promises promises
luscious lips painted tomato red
eyes sparkled golden dreams
thighs crossed with netting
pointed toe painted scarlet red
fingers holding a cigarette
messaged 'light my fire...'
curled eyelashes, batting
'there's more if you want..'
he walked over, swaggering
wearing the hardness in his trousers
touched her dimpled chin
'are you ready for my loving'
she winked, her smile sweetening
the promise to come
fingers on his tie
'you want to douse my fire...'
in a sterile room, they met
eyes wary like sparring tigers
claws out to defend or play
'devour me ....' she purred
lusty, he purred along, moving forward
he kissed her hard...fell to the floor
darkness engulfed his world
and he fell into the void
he came to in an empty room
fully clothed without his wallet
and a lump on his head
feeling stupid he sat on the bed
his phone rang stridently
click to messaging
'Dave come home now
our house is on fire'
he contemplated the streets
eight floor down
he sighed and ran out
bitter taste in his mouth.
luscious lips painted tomato red
eyes sparkled golden dreams
thighs crossed with netting
pointed toe painted scarlet red
fingers holding a cigarette
messaged 'light my fire...'
curled eyelashes, batting
'there's more if you want..'
he walked over, swaggering
wearing the hardness in his trousers
touched her dimpled chin
'are you ready for my loving'
she winked, her smile sweetening
the promise to come
fingers on his tie
'you want to douse my fire...'
in a sterile room, they met
eyes wary like sparring tigers
claws out to defend or play
'devour me ....' she purred
lusty, he purred along, moving forward
he kissed her hard...fell to the floor
darkness engulfed his world
and he fell into the void
he came to in an empty room
fully clothed without his wallet
and a lump on his head
feeling stupid he sat on the bed
his phone rang stridently
click to messaging
'Dave come home now
our house is on fire'
he contemplated the streets
eight floor down
he sighed and ran out
bitter taste in his mouth.
Betrayed
I thought my secrets are safe with you.
I trust that you understood my point of view.
I believed that despite the difference in opinion,
You and I had respected each others' preference.
When does good intentions supercede the weigh of a promise?
How can you measure me against others?
I guess, it's me who was wrong,
When I refused to accept that friendship for you have levels.
I got it! The message, loud and clear.
It's ok for you to drop me in favor of all the others.
It's just hurtful, that you think that it's ok, that I would be ok!
After you dishonor a promise for your own brand of good intention.
I realize now, how selfish you are,
How petty and how insensitive.
You call my cause bullshits
Then greet me good morning the next day?
I know now....
You never really see me as your true friend.
To be betrayed...
It hurts like shit!
I thought my secrets are safe with you.
I trust that you understood my point of view.
I believed that despite the difference in opinion,
You and I had respected each others' preference.
When does good intentions supercede the weigh of a promise?
How can you measure me against others?
I guess, it's me who was wrong,
When I refused to accept that friendship for you have levels.
I got it! The message, loud and clear.
It's ok for you to drop me in favor of all the others.
It's just hurtful, that you think that it's ok, that I would be ok!
After you dishonor a promise for your own brand of good intention.
I realize now, how selfish you are,
How petty and how insensitive.
You call my cause bullshits
Then greet me good morning the next day?
I know now....
You never really see me as your true friend.
To be betrayed...
It hurts like shit!
Where Promises Die
The eyes hint at much, a world is offered
everything is promised, destiny unknown
look into the eyes, unblinking orbs
look into the soul, absorbing it all.
I see clarity of purpose unknown
I see vitality of source deep within
a life resides here welcoming me
inviting departure if I fall inside.
Kindness is revealed, returned now in kind
lest I find the tip, dagger unsheathed
pools of emotion, shadows at play
I’ll swim the deep depths where promises die
look into the eyes, beauty thy name
entrancing the mind and killing my heart.
The eyes hint at much, a world is offered
everything is promised, destiny unknown
look into the eyes, unblinking orbs
look into the soul, absorbing it all.
I see clarity of purpose unknown
I see vitality of source deep within
a life resides here welcoming me
inviting departure if I fall inside.
Kindness is revealed, returned now in kind
lest I find the tip, dagger unsheathed
pools of emotion, shadows at play
I’ll swim the deep depths where promises die
look into the eyes, beauty thy name
entrancing the mind and killing my heart.
Anonymous
http://i1301.photobucket.com/albums/ag112/neverlandfairy/IMG_5241_zpssssq7wd8.jpg
Go Through Time With
Trying so hard
to ignore my broken
Pieces of me
scattered...they're all about
Boxed up
labeled...sitting there
stacked
I'm left shattered
beside myself
Words once heard
with such tenderness
Tones which had caused
breaths to plead for more
Now only crush...to peel layers
of my heart
I'm bleeding out
from every single pore
I stare at this book
which I started
to print on parchment
all crinkled...frayed
Waiting for the order
to arrive
"just perfect"
so it would be ready
then placed on display
The portrait
of an oak
never viewed before...through
the eyes
of this little girl
A thing of wonder...amazing beauty
just as we were
in this great
big vast world
Created to capture
the journey we had
Then and now...poetry straight
from our souls
A history of love
that would expand...never
ending
to look back on
while we smiled...when
we're old
I will still assemble
this book...as planned
Fill it with all the ink
we have spilled
as intended
Bind it together
with knots
of forever
should he return
before I move on...to the
hereafter
•* • This book has since been completed ~ hundreds of pages are now buried within wood and leather • *•
Go Through Time With
Trying so hard
to ignore my broken
Pieces of me
scattered...they're all about
Boxed up
labeled...sitting there
stacked
I'm left shattered
beside myself
Words once heard
with such tenderness
Tones which had caused
breaths to plead for more
Now only crush...to peel layers
of my heart
I'm bleeding out
from every single pore
I stare at this book
which I started
to print on parchment
all crinkled...frayed
Waiting for the order
to arrive
"just perfect"
so it would be ready
then placed on display
The portrait
of an oak
never viewed before...through
the eyes
of this little girl
A thing of wonder...amazing beauty
just as we were
in this great
big vast world
Created to capture
the journey we had
Then and now...poetry straight
from our souls
A history of love
that would expand...never
ending
to look back on
while we smiled...when
we're old
I will still assemble
this book...as planned
Fill it with all the ink
we have spilled
as intended
Bind it together
with knots
of forever
should he return
before I move on...to the
hereafter
•* • This book has since been completed ~ hundreds of pages are now buried within wood and leather • *•
the promises
The promises you kept
or should I say the
promises you failed to
keep are still being felt
in my life on a daily basis.
What do I have to do to
forget those days? I'm
not entirely sure, for I am
without knowledge of how
to confront that failed part
of me that keeps looking
somewhere for guidance
on that dreaded word called
love. I always think about
those promises wondering
what they truly meant to you,
and even if they were lies
from the start, or lies that
eventually became that way
but started off as hope of
a love destined to fail. Can
you let me know which one
it was? I'm dying to know.
The promises you kept
or should I say the
promises you failed to
keep are still being felt
in my life on a daily basis.
What do I have to do to
forget those days? I'm
not entirely sure, for I am
without knowledge of how
to confront that failed part
of me that keeps looking
somewhere for guidance
on that dreaded word called
love. I always think about
those promises wondering
what they truly meant to you,
and even if they were lies
from the start, or lies that
eventually became that way
but started off as hope of
a love destined to fail. Can
you let me know which one
it was? I'm dying to know.
PROMISE
Let me grow grandsons ground nuts and old
And tell tale of a promise untold
Sweeter than mild dew that decayed to mildew
A mould on a trail left cold
Let this paper be my body
And this ink my blood
My matter my ether
My words my thoughts
Red wine and the grail
The beloved and twin
The Mary and Thomas
Chalice Well Chennai
The blood and the bone
The cup and the grail
Drink from it eat from it
And in spirit and mind
Let it combine
And come true this time
Let the promise of the legend
Become the seed of your thought
For thoughts become our words
Our words become our acts
Our actions become our ritual
And our rituals define our character
Our character is our seed manifest
And this our gift to all
Let me grow grandsons ground nuts and old
And tell tale of a promise untold
Sweeter than mild dew that decayed to mildew
A mould on a trail left cold
Let this paper be my body
And this ink my blood
My matter my ether
My words my thoughts
Red wine and the grail
The beloved and twin
The Mary and Thomas
Chalice Well Chennai
The blood and the bone
The cup and the grail
Drink from it eat from it
And in spirit and mind
Let it combine
And come true this time
Let the promise of the legend
Become the seed of your thought
For thoughts become our words
Our words become our acts
Our actions become our ritual
And our rituals define our character
Our character is our seed manifest
And this our gift to all
