Poetry competition CLOSED 30th April 2012 8:30pm
WINNER
Imagining (Glynis)
Imagining (Glynis)
Flash Me
Anonymous
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Mary
From a generation of strong, yet damaged women the child Mary grows to maturity, having endured the domino effect of her families curse. She wanted nothing else but to spare her children the pain she suffered. Mary married the first man that stole her heart away. She poured out all the love she couldn’t give to her father onto her one true love. She had high dreams and high hopes, but the picture perfect life of Mary’s dreams wasn’t to be. Her lover is faithful to another, alcohol. Her intentions pure, heartbroken, Mary stayed for the children, stayed to make a home, stayed to provide stability. She almost had her dream, almost, only to watch another generation emerged from a fatherless home. Mary sold her future for the love of a man and a dream, what a high price to pay.
From a generation of strong, yet damaged women the child Mary grows to maturity, having endured the domino effect of her families curse. She wanted nothing else but to spare her children the pain she suffered. Mary married the first man that stole her heart away. She poured out all the love she couldn’t give to her father onto her one true love. She had high dreams and high hopes, but the picture perfect life of Mary’s dreams wasn’t to be. Her lover is faithful to another, alcohol. Her intentions pure, heartbroken, Mary stayed for the children, stayed to make a home, stayed to provide stability. She almost had her dream, almost, only to watch another generation emerged from a fatherless home. Mary sold her future for the love of a man and a dream, what a high price to pay.
Anonymous
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Anonymous
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(I hope i understood what to do...
)
Steel
Alice liked the feel. So she thought. Everyday was hard and hormoned by high exoactations and self doubt. Everyday was a retreat to steel. In the bathroom she cried, away from home she dies. Steel, deadly, painful, addicting drug of cold harsh metal to replace the world outside.
From the craked door, where the dim light shines. Peeks out small little twin like eyes as Alice sobs away in cuts. From the world she tried to hide, but never from those little eyes can she escape.
) Steel
Alice liked the feel. So she thought. Everyday was hard and hormoned by high exoactations and self doubt. Everyday was a retreat to steel. In the bathroom she cried, away from home she dies. Steel, deadly, painful, addicting drug of cold harsh metal to replace the world outside.
From the craked door, where the dim light shines. Peeks out small little twin like eyes as Alice sobs away in cuts. From the world she tried to hide, but never from those little eyes can she escape.
Anonymous
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Anonymous
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Anonymous
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A Bit Like Scalps
Today I was at an old friend's house because he was replacing some flooring
and needed help moving furniture and there were these two berets in a drawer
and he said they had belonged to some Russians who were pretending to be
Bulgarian advisors in this African country where he had worked security for
an oil company and the men who worked for him had found out they were Russians
and had shot them and given him their hats; "a bit like scalps" he said.
In all total there were five. The reasons I hated her. She didn't care. I should add that one to the list. I sent her all of the pictures I took of her. No response. I left messages on her voicemail. No call. I tried to see her at her work. On vacation. I needed closure. Went to her house. Left a typed letter telling her how I feel. Waited. No reply. She doesn't know I exist. I should add that one to the list. I should give her another chance. We've never even met.
Seen the end of the world recover in tall tales told between shots of Jameson. The remainder of bricks, standing after the big burn, bleed with the wit of wizards now that the galleries have gone forever. The feared bands of rapists, thieves and marauders, seemed to have faded into a reality of humanity unmediated. A vacation to Detroit may not be the first to appear in the brochures, but beyond the bunkers and bankruptcy is a weed growing in a lot that the rest of us wont see til tomorrow.
No Turning Back....
Naima looked over her shoulder checking to see if she had been followed...knowing she hadnt because the tell tale scent of sulphur would have assaulted her nose by now...thats how she knew when the demons would come.
She had been walking for what seemed like hours,with her Isis blade in hand...the camp should have only been about a mile ahead...why hadnt she reached it yet? She wondered. As the Sankofa tattoo on her lower back began to burn...the air around her seemed to shimmer ...as she saw 2 lower level demons step out of thin air between two garbage cans she realized...they had been watching her all along.
there would be no turning back...it was time ...to fight.
Naima looked over her shoulder checking to see if she had been followed...knowing she hadnt because the tell tale scent of sulphur would have assaulted her nose by now...thats how she knew when the demons would come.
She had been walking for what seemed like hours,with her Isis blade in hand...the camp should have only been about a mile ahead...why hadnt she reached it yet? She wondered. As the Sankofa tattoo on her lower back began to burn...the air around her seemed to shimmer ...as she saw 2 lower level demons step out of thin air between two garbage cans she realized...they had been watching her all along.
there would be no turning back...it was time ...to fight.
Anonymous
Reaching the top of the stairs, I insert the key as I have done a hundred times before. A slight hesitation. I hear the sounds of dogs shuffling and barking. A little girl is yelling to the elder boy to "give her back her fitty". She chases him to the blind end of the dwelling.........mother in hot pursuit, trying to reclaim order amongst the cacophony of sound within. With a deep sigh, I cleanse my spirit and push against the heavy door. Pausing there for but a moment, I see.....
......darkness. Within these cold walls lies an eerie silence. A feeling like there's "no one" there but yet there's "something there". A sinister presence; thick and foreboding. I place my briefcase down beside my worn out, favorite chair. Hesitantly, I ease back into the seat of my familiar. Alone-enveloped by the darkness. Haunted by a looming past.
......darkness. Within these cold walls lies an eerie silence. A feeling like there's "no one" there but yet there's "something there". A sinister presence; thick and foreboding. I place my briefcase down beside my worn out, favorite chair. Hesitantly, I ease back into the seat of my familiar. Alone-enveloped by the darkness. Haunted by a looming past.
Anonymous
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