Poetry competition CLOSED 15th March 2017 4:46pm
WINNER
poetryaccident (Poetry Accident)
poetryaccident (Poetry Accident)
RUNNER-UP:
Jade-Pandora
Page:
Poem-ception
Poetry Contest Description
A poem about a poem about a poem...
Please submit poems about another poem.. or go one deeper and write a poem about a poem about a poem (extra points the deeper it goes lol)
Idk how this will actually work, but I made the competition, so it is up to you to make it work (or not)
please link or copy the original poem to be considered for the sweet trophy!
beyond that, rules are for schmucks!
if it get's enough responses i will open it to a vote!
<3
Idk how this will actually work, but I made the competition, so it is up to you to make it work (or not)
please link or copy the original poem to be considered for the sweet trophy!
beyond that, rules are for schmucks!
if it get's enough responses i will open it to a vote!
<3
Anonymous
(`a poem about a poem about a` song ... I did try to make it work but not)
a seed`y portrait in tom`s Diner
I am a troubled soul
ravenous unbeauty
and you
are the dual of my kind
however did I find you
in a *chamber of broken lovers?
I am epic in my proportions
skilled in the strongboxes of Pandora`s sutra`d truffles
sex trickles like mousse upon a hungered mouth
nowhere to be seen,
but read & heard … Godiva`s lair
I`ve taken these moments stolen
and offered them like abstracts
tattooed in bourbon lips
across your dress shirt, white is the signature
of your vitality, and suspenders `neath
suspend me to you … I crave to wear you~
I`ve stolen reflections of your confessions
sealed them in a catacomb only accessible
to the golden~esq of your hue hinged against your contorting pelvis …
in the shot above, I`ve seduced you
there is no shame or a flicker thereof
in my conceited moments of self~tortuous ecstasy
nor when this preying beast finds her release
black brassiere & nudist panties have now become me
you are my diner …
a hymn shadows~
oh this ache it will continue through these empty sheets
as I`m listening to the bells of my cathedrals
I am thinking of your unspoken voice, and
of the winteress carolinas …
Once upon a time ‘fore the perfidies began
I finished up my coffee and awaited
your slow midnight hand
linkhttps://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/259071-chamber-of-broken-lovers/
a seed`y portrait in tom`s Diner
I am a troubled soul
ravenous unbeauty
and you
are the dual of my kind
however did I find you
in a *chamber of broken lovers?
I am epic in my proportions
skilled in the strongboxes of Pandora`s sutra`d truffles
sex trickles like mousse upon a hungered mouth
nowhere to be seen,
but read & heard … Godiva`s lair
I`ve taken these moments stolen
and offered them like abstracts
tattooed in bourbon lips
across your dress shirt, white is the signature
of your vitality, and suspenders `neath
suspend me to you … I crave to wear you~
I`ve stolen reflections of your confessions
sealed them in a catacomb only accessible
to the golden~esq of your hue hinged against your contorting pelvis …
in the shot above, I`ve seduced you
there is no shame or a flicker thereof
in my conceited moments of self~tortuous ecstasy
nor when this preying beast finds her release
black brassiere & nudist panties have now become me
you are my diner …
a hymn shadows~
oh this ache it will continue through these empty sheets
as I`m listening to the bells of my cathedrals
I am thinking of your unspoken voice, and
of the winteress carolinas …
Once upon a time ‘fore the perfidies began
I finished up my coffee and awaited
your slow midnight hand
linkhttps://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/259071-chamber-of-broken-lovers/
http://i1347.photobucket.com/albums/p703/aragornr/confessions_smaller_zps6fl4cica.jpg
Confessions
The words held fast each moment’s breath
the gods sent a beauty to grace my side
their name to lips and then to the pen
describing the bounty of life’s largesse
the poem announced a burst of love
perhaps it was lust, the lesser of sorts
yet in the end the stanzas did state
the letters that mark invoked appetites.
The actors were put together to see
how many impacted the poet within
the genders had varied, each to their own
all shared together in a collection of thoughts
the stories were ours to celebrate
with names withheld or changed within
respect must be given though loins ask for less
in a book of writing with poetic preface.
Now you may ask where to find this tome
mentioned in poem, like dreams in a dream
with stated ambitions at the hot core
wrapped in a scope of book’s enterprise
a collection of ink bound with a spine
again with the preface stating each one
this poem has alerted you to my confessions
held to my heart by the weight of piled words.
Confessions
The words held fast each moment’s breath
the gods sent a beauty to grace my side
their name to lips and then to the pen
describing the bounty of life’s largesse
the poem announced a burst of love
perhaps it was lust, the lesser of sorts
yet in the end the stanzas did state
the letters that mark invoked appetites.
The actors were put together to see
how many impacted the poet within
the genders had varied, each to their own
all shared together in a collection of thoughts
the stories were ours to celebrate
with names withheld or changed within
respect must be given though loins ask for less
in a book of writing with poetic preface.
Now you may ask where to find this tome
mentioned in poem, like dreams in a dream
with stated ambitions at the hot core
wrapped in a scope of book’s enterprise
a collection of ink bound with a spine
again with the preface stating each one
this poem has alerted you to my confessions
held to my heart by the weight of piled words.
http://i1290.photobucket.com/albums/b536/1willybugger/steel%20mill%20-%20Copy_zpsouijo6fh.jpg
BLOOD AND STEEL
Inspired by Carl Sandburg’s Smoke and Steel
The growling furnace is angry red
Water spits and sputters in steam
The molten metal bath boils and bubbles
Yellow, red, and white sparks dance in shadows
Smoke and blood is the mix of steel
Like my father, I was a steel worker
On the first day of my iron baptism
Dad would tell me
“There are four essential elements
In the making of steel
Fire, water, ore and blood
Off all of them, there is no shortage
Of blood in a steel mill
It’s coated on the bars
It’s mixed within the chemistry
With the flesh and tears of many"
Like my father
Carl Sandburg knew his shit!
I dedicate the above poem to friend and fellow steel worker Mike Zywicki, who crushed to death at the mill on a Christmas Eve. You worked and died in Hell, now find peace in heaven
BLOOD AND STEEL
Inspired by Carl Sandburg’s Smoke and Steel
The growling furnace is angry red
Water spits and sputters in steam
The molten metal bath boils and bubbles
Yellow, red, and white sparks dance in shadows
Smoke and blood is the mix of steel
Like my father, I was a steel worker
On the first day of my iron baptism
Dad would tell me
“There are four essential elements
In the making of steel
Fire, water, ore and blood
Off all of them, there is no shortage
Of blood in a steel mill
It’s coated on the bars
It’s mixed within the chemistry
With the flesh and tears of many"
Like my father
Carl Sandburg knew his shit!
I dedicate the above poem to friend and fellow steel worker Mike Zywicki, who crushed to death at the mill on a Christmas Eve. You worked and died in Hell, now find peace in heaven
My balcony
I lean to watch
the ponies being lead
around the patio below,
Each pony follows
a young girl in her frock
with dark hair flowing,
I feel alive
while eating a green apple
from my open balcony,
Amazed each time
a leaf floats into view
and then another,
Till I toss the core
high in the air
and follow!
My poem inspired from "El Balcón" by Federico Garcia Lorca.
https://poemfortoday.wordpress.com/2010/01/16/el-balcon-fare-well-by-federico-garcia-lorca/
Craneo de un Caballo
Soon it was clear that the moon
was a horse's skull,
and the air, a dark apple.
The gearshift shudder of
a heavy-laden truck fades,
all the while, the
sustained drone of bees;
past their prime and sluggish,
yet their wings cannot be stilled.
A dull glint behind the eyes
of a yoked pair of oxen,
standing at a crossroad
between myself and the fields
that bake in the August
of a Spanish sun,
waiting for the
hammer and anvil to sing,
for the echoing refrain
of rifle shots beyond
a stand of distant trees
shimmering from spent cartridges
in the waning afternoon
of your exquisitely curved spine.
The title literally means "Skull of a Horse"
Ever since I read about the Spanish poet, Federico Garcia Lorca (1898-1936), some of his poetry, his biography, and of his violent death - I've always felt the loss, and the injustice of how he was abducted and executed by Nationalists of Franco's army during the Spanish civil war of the 30's.
Credit for the first stanza in italics is from Lorca's poem, "Ruin" which can be viewed in its entirety here in both Spanish & English :
https://emilyjaneisaac.wordpress.com/2014/01/20/english-federico-garcia-lorca-poem-ruinaruin-analysis/
Anonymous
Runner-up? ... Cool
! Today my Bridesmaid dress is
aquamarine!
Congrats, poetryaccident on
the sweet Trophy
. Miss Jade(y), great entries
. And gazellemon, thanks for considering my piece
. 
