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SychophanticSlag
Carla
5
Joined 24th May 2011
Forum Posts: 1957
Carla
Dangerous Mind
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Forum Posts: 1957
Poetry Contest Description
Write a poem in appreciation of your favorite poet.
-any poet, whether famous or found on here.
-address said poet.
-keep it tidy, don't post until you're sure of no misspellings or other errors.
-no collabs
-address said poet.
-keep it tidy, don't post until you're sure of no misspellings or other errors.
-no collabs
![poet](/images/avatars/_nopic.gif)
<< post removed >>
AlmostDead0909
Joined 26th Aug 2012
Forum Posts: 26
Lost Thinker
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Forum Posts: 26
On Poetry Corner, where we first met,
I'd heard of his talent and the standards he set,
Raving reviews of the poems he wrote,
Though not one to boast and not one to gloat.
I laughed and scoffed, so? Big deal!
Until I read his poetry and it was unreal...
The profound contemplation in the depths of his words,
The elegance and grace held inside was absurd,
Twisting and turning sentences round,
Describing sight, taste and sound,
The meaning deeper than shown at first...
For his poetry I had grown a thirst.
I devoured more, constantly,
As he carried on writing, as if just for me,
And then he commended a poem of mine,
And the feeling that arose was purely sublime,
'My God!' I thought, in ecstasy,
'He loves a poem that's written by me!'
It would be an understatement to say I was glad,
For it was surely the best compliment I had ever had?
Elohim's poetry sets a bar for the rest,
And though many are good, he is the best.
I'd heard of his talent and the standards he set,
Raving reviews of the poems he wrote,
Though not one to boast and not one to gloat.
I laughed and scoffed, so? Big deal!
Until I read his poetry and it was unreal...
The profound contemplation in the depths of his words,
The elegance and grace held inside was absurd,
Twisting and turning sentences round,
Describing sight, taste and sound,
The meaning deeper than shown at first...
For his poetry I had grown a thirst.
I devoured more, constantly,
As he carried on writing, as if just for me,
And then he commended a poem of mine,
And the feeling that arose was purely sublime,
'My God!' I thought, in ecstasy,
'He loves a poem that's written by me!'
It would be an understatement to say I was glad,
For it was surely the best compliment I had ever had?
Elohim's poetry sets a bar for the rest,
And though many are good, he is the best.
![poet](/images/avatars/_nopic.gif)
<< post removed >>
13
17
Joined 25th June 2011
Forum Posts: 663
Dangerous Mind
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Conqueror (Edgar Allan Poe)
It rose from the darkest pits
like a worm, slithering
into thoughts and minds
of the imbeciles of society,
an elegant deception
to crave out, a self portrait
of profane grace and disillusion
from the horrors of the deep black,
the theme for this sordid play.
Washing away emotions in vanity's cold kiss
you can't fathom the weight the devil holds
in these quiet withering years of loneliness
seeking company not unlike his own.
Enact it again, that mortal's despair
and a thousand times over in limbo
and with vigor go mad and become the sin,
this tragedy called man has a conqueror.
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/55752-conqueror/
It rose from the darkest pits
like a worm, slithering
into thoughts and minds
of the imbeciles of society,
an elegant deception
to crave out, a self portrait
of profane grace and disillusion
from the horrors of the deep black,
the theme for this sordid play.
Washing away emotions in vanity's cold kiss
you can't fathom the weight the devil holds
in these quiet withering years of loneliness
seeking company not unlike his own.
Enact it again, that mortal's despair
and a thousand times over in limbo
and with vigor go mad and become the sin,
this tragedy called man has a conqueror.
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/55752-conqueror/
Danii
ALICE IS DEAD
6
Joined 27th Oct 2011
Forum Posts: 5083
ALICE IS DEAD
Tyrant of Words
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Monster
Broken hands can only mend the forgotten
Maybe I would've been real
Had I learned to speak
But silence is key
For my words are read, yet you can be blind
There's nothing better than Champagne on ice
I remember countless hours
Of darkness that consumes you
Your third red eye is shining brighter
Put the mask back on
Before they find you
Show me what it is like
To be so unreal
Because your shadow corner is getting light
I can only say half of what is real
To lose this chance
Is more than I can take
So be here today
Then forever
You'll stay away
No one
Nothing
None
....
Finis
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poets/noonenothingnone
Broken hands can only mend the forgotten
Maybe I would've been real
Had I learned to speak
But silence is key
For my words are read, yet you can be blind
There's nothing better than Champagne on ice
I remember countless hours
Of darkness that consumes you
Your third red eye is shining brighter
Put the mask back on
Before they find you
Show me what it is like
To be so unreal
Because your shadow corner is getting light
I can only say half of what is real
To lose this chance
Is more than I can take
So be here today
Then forever
You'll stay away
No one
Nothing
None
....
Finis
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poets/noonenothingnone
13
17
Joined 25th June 2011
Forum Posts: 663
Dangerous Mind
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^ nice!
rayheinrich
Death Plane for Teddy
32
Joined 4th Dec 2009
Forum Posts: 4411
Death Plane for Teddy
Tyrant of Words
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http://wordbiscuit.com/images/peopleinsun.jpg
'People in the Sun' - Edward Hopper
< 8 flower tales >
- 1 -
all winter
the spring
grew inside us
now
our mouths open
and flowers tumble out
- 2 -
the rush of sprouting
of shoots
pushing aside old leaves
of stems ascending
as the buds
inflate to airy flowers
- 3 -
the bees warn us
as the mouths of flowers
open wide to swallow us
but since it's spring
we jump
right in
- 4 -
wheels
their axles
through the ground
swerve over us
with the curve
of the sky
- 5 -
as the afternoon
advances
the petals add
determining
if you are loved
or not
- 6 -
the waste basket
holds
these yellow flowers
tears
you're not sure
who they're for
- 7 -
the roundness
of a face
above us
the pleasant sense
of color
that continues
- 8 -
after the steady
flowing
of years
the grace
of our hands
turns to flowers
- - -
marielavoue
Gypsy Red
39
Joined 18th Aug 2011
Forum Posts: 896
Gypsy Red
Dangerous Mind
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Pablo Neruda’s poetic language of love
interpreted through the eyes of the beholder,
the reader; felt through the words,
incited by the emotions carefully crafted
by this architect with quill and parchment;
monuments to love, sorrows,
happiness and heartbreak.
Theses constructs’ are built on sentiments felt,
memories remembered and tears shed.
Contained therein the palm of the reader
who subscribes to the notions, its creator describes.
Such simple edicts encompass
a prism of colored emotions
that speak to the heart and soul of the follower,
moving them to tears or firing up there rage,
even igniting a passion so tumultuous
that a books’ humble binding, can barely contain.
Such is the art cultivated by scribes
with exquisitely selected words
in a multitude of languages that are
used to express the vision of the artist.
Gypsy Red
![poet](/images/avatars/_nopic.gif)
A Short Tribute to Robert
What tender spirit overlooking Gloucester's bay
Would not be touched by what he had to say
The gentlest of souls from New England's heart
Reminding us about living, or at least how to start
From Snowy Evenings to Mending Walls
Starlight Nights to New Hampshire Falls
Blueberries, Birches, The Road Not Taken
A peace of mind that we'ved sadly forsaken
Embracing life, his humanity never lost
America's voice is the poetry of Frost
What tender spirit overlooking Gloucester's bay
Would not be touched by what he had to say
The gentlest of souls from New England's heart
Reminding us about living, or at least how to start
From Snowy Evenings to Mending Walls
Starlight Nights to New Hampshire Falls
Blueberries, Birches, The Road Not Taken
A peace of mind that we'ved sadly forsaken
Embracing life, his humanity never lost
America's voice is the poetry of Frost
![poet](/images/avatars/_nopic.gif)
<< post removed >>
![poet](/images/avatars/_nopic.gif)
A Tribute to My Fellow Underground Poets
I plan to take my time, have some playful fun
With this latest challenge that is so appropriate
To honor and pay tribute to some of my fellow DUP versifiers
Rebel poets so very off the grid, but ironically still on the web
Of course there's Somelikeithot, one of the first to greet me
Who has a dynamic range of talent, literally making any subject poetic
Then there is a certain redheaded gypsy, warrior princess, my sister in arms
Sharing a love of floriculture with me, her words make me swoon, teaching that there is no room for ugly words in beautiful poetry
Stepping out of the Lord of the Rings is Strider, an able and skilled soldier and swordsman
Gifted in poeting about love, eros, and war with fanciful words that ring so true
All the way from Wales is Lady Magdalena, an enchantress most epic
Weaving beautiful words out of all the ugliness in the world, leaving this man oft in a puddle of tears
I'd be remiss if I forgot a certain jogging turtle
Full of wit and real depth, even though he has been running since '87
Of course there is my gal pal, ELL30 who is a true kindred spirit
Challenging and inspiring me to write about what is most true and still hurts the deepest as she finds her own poetic voice
Then there is my little Blossom in the Snow, Splinteredlostsoul
Her purity and suffering make me want to take the blade from her hand, replacing it with a healing quill
A relatively new writing colleague and real charmer is Rosebud, with poems so crisp and poignant
Who swears to this day that I read her journal, not realizing that I just reengineer the webcamera on her laptop
To the the rest of y'all, there is still tommorrow or the day after
For us to get to know each other thru our shared love of poetics and leaving our poems, fingerprints of our souls for discovery
Le Colonel (Sometimes referred to as "The Kinky Colonel" by some not so respecting of my rank and good standing)
I plan to take my time, have some playful fun
With this latest challenge that is so appropriate
To honor and pay tribute to some of my fellow DUP versifiers
Rebel poets so very off the grid, but ironically still on the web
Of course there's Somelikeithot, one of the first to greet me
Who has a dynamic range of talent, literally making any subject poetic
Then there is a certain redheaded gypsy, warrior princess, my sister in arms
Sharing a love of floriculture with me, her words make me swoon, teaching that there is no room for ugly words in beautiful poetry
Stepping out of the Lord of the Rings is Strider, an able and skilled soldier and swordsman
Gifted in poeting about love, eros, and war with fanciful words that ring so true
All the way from Wales is Lady Magdalena, an enchantress most epic
Weaving beautiful words out of all the ugliness in the world, leaving this man oft in a puddle of tears
I'd be remiss if I forgot a certain jogging turtle
Full of wit and real depth, even though he has been running since '87
Of course there is my gal pal, ELL30 who is a true kindred spirit
Challenging and inspiring me to write about what is most true and still hurts the deepest as she finds her own poetic voice
Then there is my little Blossom in the Snow, Splinteredlostsoul
Her purity and suffering make me want to take the blade from her hand, replacing it with a healing quill
A relatively new writing colleague and real charmer is Rosebud, with poems so crisp and poignant
Who swears to this day that I read her journal, not realizing that I just reengineer the webcamera on her laptop
To the the rest of y'all, there is still tommorrow or the day after
For us to get to know each other thru our shared love of poetics and leaving our poems, fingerprints of our souls for discovery
Le Colonel (Sometimes referred to as "The Kinky Colonel" by some not so respecting of my rank and good standing)
Soul_Man_Ken
9
Joined 13th June 2012
Forum Posts: 897
Dangerous Mind
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SEASPUN FRIENDSHIP
A beckoning
yearning
Souls refuge
purest intentions
more than an escape.
Whether tears, giggles, victories or hurts
I listen, not just hear.
Ginger-hued parchment sky
clouds slashed with brushstrokes
of cranberry stain
and violet dye
cerulean blue
passionate artist hue.
A beauty piercing
as a lightning strike
slicing one in two
intensity with
fireflame blue.
Here the soul is warmed
and fed
even the air
grateful for the chance
to share it's
windswept breath.
Salt tipped mist
of sand
a canvas
marking the heart.
To the waves I whisper
the swell aware
of heart's delight.
Upon the wet sand I stretch
my body and thought
ocean two-steps
drenches hair
and licks the toes.
Finger breezes dip
and lift sprays
to christen skin
with crystal droplets touch.
The waves crest,
a surge of hope for the heart.
Clouds fold
a golden light
set down upon
obsidian pool below.
Sun kisses sea
a shiver, not a chill.
Sunset bleeds into water
casting shimmering prism
a jewel box night.
Pearl orb suspended
in velvet sky
pierced by singing stars
my ears absorbing their chorus.
Luscious abyss of darkness
I wish not to escape
enveloping with it's satin touch
a phantom kiss, seaspun rush.
How can one not be inspired
for in the sun and moon
stars and watery deep
poetry is alive
etching itself unto us.
Were you to cut us open
we would bleed the sea and heavens.
As our time this day ends
a stitch pulled closer to mend
tender, long hugs we share
fortifying friendship's spark.
(tribute to Rachel O.)
A beckoning
yearning
Souls refuge
purest intentions
more than an escape.
Whether tears, giggles, victories or hurts
I listen, not just hear.
Ginger-hued parchment sky
clouds slashed with brushstrokes
of cranberry stain
and violet dye
cerulean blue
passionate artist hue.
A beauty piercing
as a lightning strike
slicing one in two
intensity with
fireflame blue.
Here the soul is warmed
and fed
even the air
grateful for the chance
to share it's
windswept breath.
Salt tipped mist
of sand
a canvas
marking the heart.
To the waves I whisper
the swell aware
of heart's delight.
Upon the wet sand I stretch
my body and thought
ocean two-steps
drenches hair
and licks the toes.
Finger breezes dip
and lift sprays
to christen skin
with crystal droplets touch.
The waves crest,
a surge of hope for the heart.
Clouds fold
a golden light
set down upon
obsidian pool below.
Sun kisses sea
a shiver, not a chill.
Sunset bleeds into water
casting shimmering prism
a jewel box night.
Pearl orb suspended
in velvet sky
pierced by singing stars
my ears absorbing their chorus.
Luscious abyss of darkness
I wish not to escape
enveloping with it's satin touch
a phantom kiss, seaspun rush.
How can one not be inspired
for in the sun and moon
stars and watery deep
poetry is alive
etching itself unto us.
Were you to cut us open
we would bleed the sea and heavens.
As our time this day ends
a stitch pulled closer to mend
tender, long hugs we share
fortifying friendship's spark.
(tribute to Rachel O.)