Poetry competition CLOSED 22nd May 2017 7:48pm
WINNER
Anonymous
Anonymous
Poem of the Month - June 2017
OUR LOVE IS FOREVER
14/ 02/16
(Written in commemoration of St Valentine's day- For a love that is and is not)
It caught us unawares
And like someone who has been in a trance
We were jolted back to life
The sting of Cupid's arrow
Marked us for an eternal love
Mesmerising love in great proportions
Sometimes scary, Sometimes overwhelming
Never seen but always felt
Our love is in the air
In every breathing moment
Our love is in the sky
Always above our heads
Our love is in the sun
It shines its light on us
Our love is in the rain
It soaks away our regrets...
We do not need a marked out day
To celebrate our surreal love
We do not need the pomps and flair
That speaks of quick and wilted lust
For what we have is what we need
A love that is not once a year
Our love, my dear is everyday
Our love my dear
Is forever.
Written by olablinks
(Ola)
Go To Page
Related submission no longer exists.
The Look Upon Her Face
I was surfing through the channels when I came to P.B.S.,
who would have known it was to cause me such
Emotional Distress.
A true story of Ethnic Cleaning in a Country call Rwanda,
where were all the Protesters, where was Jane Fonda.
They had quickly changed the channel so they would not have to see,
that those who let it happen represented you and me.
I know that millions die each year from War, Hunger, and Disease,
I have seen the ads a thousand times, help us won't you Please.
So why I kept on watching is a mystery to me,
I should have tuned into M.A.S.H. on channel 53.
They said there was No Oil in the ground,
No Strategic Minerals to be found.
The location offered us No Military Need,
No Corporate Cash crops to fuel our Greed.
They buy No Computers, Cokes, or Cadillacs,
Hell, their just a lot of Dirt Poor Blacks.
The White Man's Burden we once tried to meet, till they dragged Our Boys through the street,
and that is one Mistake we shall not repeat.
So The One's who proudly wore the Blue Beret,
climbed into their trucks and Drove Away.
The look upon that Young Girl's Face begging them Please stay,
still Haunts My Soul each and every day.
Hacked with machetes until they were Dead,
their blotted Corpses chocked the river and turned it red.
One hundred thousand Men, Women, and Children, now two,
it's just another Tribal War there's nothing we can do.
Three hundred thousand Butchered Tutsi soon became four,
then five hundred thousand, and five hundred thousand more.
True believers in the Son of Holy Virgin Mary,
all alone the Colonial Cross they had to carry.
Now you will not find them under Tombstones in some Quaint Cemetery,
they are Mummies in the Churches where they had sought out Sanctuary.
The U.N. would have stayed and saved them I Truly do Believe,
if only they had been more like Ward, June, Wally and the Beav.
So stay tuned to Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy,
and block the P.B.S. channel from your T.V.,
or you may find yourself like me,
DAMMING ALL THE GLOBAL POWERS THAT LET IT BE
I recently found this poem in an old note book.
I wrote it in 1997 after having watched the program.
To this I day I can remember being Dumbstruck, Grief-Stricken, with an Anger in My Soul that this Genocide was allowed to happen. I felt then and now that all
Humanity should hang their heads in Shame, Myself Included.
who would have known it was to cause me such
Emotional Distress.
A true story of Ethnic Cleaning in a Country call Rwanda,
where were all the Protesters, where was Jane Fonda.
They had quickly changed the channel so they would not have to see,
that those who let it happen represented you and me.
I know that millions die each year from War, Hunger, and Disease,
I have seen the ads a thousand times, help us won't you Please.
So why I kept on watching is a mystery to me,
I should have tuned into M.A.S.H. on channel 53.
They said there was No Oil in the ground,
No Strategic Minerals to be found.
The location offered us No Military Need,
No Corporate Cash crops to fuel our Greed.
They buy No Computers, Cokes, or Cadillacs,
Hell, their just a lot of Dirt Poor Blacks.
The White Man's Burden we once tried to meet, till they dragged Our Boys through the street,
and that is one Mistake we shall not repeat.
So The One's who proudly wore the Blue Beret,
climbed into their trucks and Drove Away.
The look upon that Young Girl's Face begging them Please stay,
still Haunts My Soul each and every day.
Hacked with machetes until they were Dead,
their blotted Corpses chocked the river and turned it red.
One hundred thousand Men, Women, and Children, now two,
it's just another Tribal War there's nothing we can do.
Three hundred thousand Butchered Tutsi soon became four,
then five hundred thousand, and five hundred thousand more.
True believers in the Son of Holy Virgin Mary,
all alone the Colonial Cross they had to carry.
Now you will not find them under Tombstones in some Quaint Cemetery,
they are Mummies in the Churches where they had sought out Sanctuary.
The U.N. would have stayed and saved them I Truly do Believe,
if only they had been more like Ward, June, Wally and the Beav.
So stay tuned to Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy,
and block the P.B.S. channel from your T.V.,
or you may find yourself like me,
DAMMING ALL THE GLOBAL POWERS THAT LET IT BE
I recently found this poem in an old note book.
I wrote it in 1997 after having watched the program.
To this I day I can remember being Dumbstruck, Grief-Stricken, with an Anger in My Soul that this Genocide was allowed to happen. I felt then and now that all
Humanity should hang their heads in Shame, Myself Included.
Written by stardustchild
Go To Page
Related submission no longer exists.
A Corner of Sky
a light blue cloud
singing in your hand
folded once
then once more; the wings
of your origami crane
I breathe in deep
the flesh-like tissue
uplifting me
through fluttering lids
to a corner of sky
all to myself,
lighter than birds
kiting
through the draft and rush,
reaching for the sun
I have no voice
with which to sing
no feathers I,
still I bank and soar
trying to remember you
Written by Jade-Pandora
(jade tiger)
Go To Page
Related submission no longer exists.
De-Stringed
I am the lightning
that's not seen
I strike the nerves
you cannot feel
I am the curve
on a world flat screen
I re-inburse what's
never been
my value , worth's
in a purse de-stringed
I quench your thirst
but only post drink
I am the first
thought you can't think
am I the only float
that sinks .
If you see me
don't despair
I am not real
I am not there
a memory
an after glare
no solidity
so don't be scared .
I am a ghost
a former self
trying to post
these words from hell
I live in hope
like a joke
you can't sell.
I feel alone
does it show
can you tell .
If you see me
don't despair
I am not real
I am not there
a memory
an after glare
no solidity
so don't be scared .
I am the lightning
that's not seen
I strike the nerves
you cannot feel
I am the curve
on a world flat screen
I re-inburse what's
never been
never been
never been
I am the lightning
that's not seen .
Written by diddi
(StephenPaul Summerscales)
Go To Page
AMITY
She waits wrapped in red velvet of her obsidian coffin
The frigid princess aching for my kiss in those old Grim fairy tales
I will be your night in the blackest knightmare armor
Riding forth on my fell beast of winter’s coming Hell
Her castle vein in a wasted strain withered from heroin pricks
Behold scriptures on her flesh written for horrifica flicks
Casting the spotlight from high above Heaven’s tarnished dome
Observing the scars of God laid bare beneath her wretched moon
She smirks even in death at the plight of her enemy
Seduction to the blight where his old forest was hewn
Spitefully
Her lover, her jailer, her killer
She drove the stake into my heart
Confidant, liberant, deviant
Rot together ‘til death do us part
My affection for Amity
Is like nothing you’ve ever seen
I succumb to her madness
As if it were my own
The infection of Amity
Is like nothing that’s ever been
I succumb to the darkness
Just to make it my own
My savior, my martyr, my devil
I drove the stake into her heart
Confidant, liberant, deviant
Rot together ‘til death do us part
Beautifully
The crime is captured on Blu-Ray high def 3D DVD
With spoken word death screeched by the devil for commentary
A masterpiece of art decor of bloody spattered walls
Of two hearts dead as one entwined in the mortuary
Her castle vain in a mirror possessed by apparition quills
Dipped in poison to tattoo the ink on my skin claiming my cheap kills
Last night sacrifices for Amity laid upon her altar
The lifeless prostitute, the righteous holy and unborn child
Chained to the walls of the circle to the damned and dying
Amity demands the blood freshly spilt and defiled
Cruelly
Her lover, her jailer, her killer
She drove the stake into my heart
Confidant, liberant, deviant
Rot together ‘til death do us part
My affection for Amity
Is like nothing you’ve ever seen
I succumb to her madness
As if it were my own
The infection of Amity
Is like nothing that’s ever been
I succumb to the darkness
Just to make it my own
My savior, my martyr, my devil
I drove the stake into her heart
Confidant, liberant, deviant
Rot together ‘til death do us part
Sadistically
I am addicted to her violence
Even from beyond the grave
Her cold embrace arouses desire
The fire, the fire
Consumes the loathsome knave
As we lay together forever set in for a restless sleep
Last night’s festivities still so fresh within our deranged minds
I want one more kiss but instead she takes my fingertip
And sucks the gore from it, so sweetly, to let me know she’s mine
The sky erupts with the thunder of a thousand murdered crows
Her castle mania servants herald forth our demented show
Once more into the fray to bring the beast unto our banquet
To devour the flesh of the innocent to old god’s delight
Peel the meat from the bone and shore up the River Styx
Collect the dead, forevermore, and toast Stygian Night
My lovely
Her lover, her jailer, her killer
She drove the stake into my heart
Confidant, liberant, deviant
Rot together ‘til death do us part
My affection for Amity
Is like nothing you’ve ever seen
I succumb to her madness
As if it were my own
The infection of Amity
Is like nothing that’s ever been
I succumb to the darkness
Just to make it my own
My savior, my martyr, my devil
I drove the stake into her heart
Confidant, liberant, deviant
Rot together ‘til death do us part
For Amity
(c) 2017 Frank Green
Written by HadesRising
Go To Page
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/
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/
Written by Jade-Pandora
(jade tiger)
Go To Page
Comparisons
It was like rain, or was it snow—
it was cold is all I know,
with people on the street
walking, adrift like quiet smoke
while the tops of their umbrellas
scattered like crows
who also spoke not a word,
but I'll never know, for I never
heard, silent & empty, my
breath faint on a window pane.
it was cold is all I know,
with people on the street
walking, adrift like quiet smoke
while the tops of their umbrellas
scattered like crows
who also spoke not a word,
but I'll never know, for I never
heard, silent & empty, my
breath faint on a window pane.
Written by Jade-Pandora
(jade tiger)
Go To Page
Anonymous
Thank you for the Nomination JP I really appreciate it being highlighted in the monthly thing (especially being a newbie)
Anonymous
Thank you EC for the nomination I've read ALOT of really awesome poems since my time here so it's nice for this one in particular to be highlighted.
