Poetry competition CLOSED 7th June 2013 2:36am
WINNER
becsta (Bec)
becsta (Bec)
repetition
Poetry Contest Description
build to a climax..
one entry each
new or old original work
any style so long as you show repetition
must be 60 words or more
give it to me over and over
again and again...build it to a climax
I want to FEEL when I am done reading
happy, sad, lusty, smarter, vengeful
just make me feel something by the end
sample below
have fun
thanks for entering
Want Me!
I want you to want me
Cheap Trick said it in a song
I want you to want me
for your desire to be strong
I want you to want me
to ache for my touch
I want you to want me
and need me so much
I want you to want me
to scream out my name
I want you to want me
til I feel your pain
I want you to want me
from my head to my toes
I want you to want me
until you lose all control
I want you to want me
so make a plan of attack
I want you to want me
til I want you back
I want you to want me
so tell me it's true
I want you to want me
to make love to you
I want you to want me
so come pull on my hair
I want you to want me
with a passion we both share
I want you to want me
consumed by need beyond measure
I want you to want me
come taste of my treasure
new or old original work
any style so long as you show repetition
must be 60 words or more
give it to me over and over
again and again...build it to a climax
I want to FEEL when I am done reading
happy, sad, lusty, smarter, vengeful
just make me feel something by the end
sample below
have fun
thanks for entering
Want Me!
I want you to want me
Cheap Trick said it in a song
I want you to want me
for your desire to be strong
I want you to want me
to ache for my touch
I want you to want me
and need me so much
I want you to want me
to scream out my name
I want you to want me
til I feel your pain
I want you to want me
from my head to my toes
I want you to want me
until you lose all control
I want you to want me
so make a plan of attack
I want you to want me
til I want you back
I want you to want me
so tell me it's true
I want you to want me
to make love to you
I want you to want me
so come pull on my hair
I want you to want me
with a passion we both share
I want you to want me
consumed by need beyond measure
I want you to want me
come taste of my treasure
Loving You
Loving you is beautiful
The beauty in your eyes
Share such love from within
Specks of darker brown on brown
Beauty in loving you
Is you loving me back
Loving you is beautiful
Beautiful in all its little gestures
The smile and looks
The loving wants and desires
The best loving I want
Is the splendour of love
Loving you is beautiful
Angels in dreams
Are not as much as you
From across spheres
I touch your loving
And feel beauty in loving you
Love unconditional
Love pure and honest
Love giving and forgiving
Love taking and receiving
Loving you is beautiful
For you are me and I am you!
Loving you is beautiful
The beauty in your eyes
Share such love from within
Specks of darker brown on brown
Beauty in loving you
Is you loving me back
Loving you is beautiful
Beautiful in all its little gestures
The smile and looks
The loving wants and desires
The best loving I want
Is the splendour of love
Loving you is beautiful
Angels in dreams
Are not as much as you
From across spheres
I touch your loving
And feel beauty in loving you
Love unconditional
Love pure and honest
Love giving and forgiving
Love taking and receiving
Loving you is beautiful
For you are me and I am you!
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
I Am Broken
I loved you.
I trusted you.
I was innocent.
Now I can’t love.
Now I can’t trust.
Now I am broken.
You coward!
You fucking bastard!
You little fucking bitch!
How could you watch them rape me?
How could you listen to my screams?
How could you join them?
I am broken.
You coward!
You fucking bastard!
You little fucking bitch!
Why did you let them beat me?
Why did you let them rape me?
Why did you join them?
I am broken.
You coward!
You fucking bastard!
You little fucking bitch!
It wasn’t the drugs!
It wasn’t the fucking alcohol!
It sure wasn’t me seducing you!
I am broken now.
I loved you.
I trusted you.
I was innocent.
Now I can’t love.
Now I can’t trust.
Now I am broken.
You coward!
You fucking bastard!
You little fucking bitch!
How could you watch them rape me?
How could you listen to my screams?
How could you join them?
I am broken.
You coward!
You fucking bastard!
You little fucking bitch!
Why did you let them beat me?
Why did you let them rape me?
Why did you join them?
I am broken.
You coward!
You fucking bastard!
You little fucking bitch!
It wasn’t the drugs!
It wasn’t the fucking alcohol!
It sure wasn’t me seducing you!
I am broken now.
So Sick, Toxic
So sick, toxic:
exhume my corpse –
dug six feet under –
open the casket…
there’s still room for you.
So sick, toxic:
breathe life into me,
see these brittle bones,
held together so daintily
with sinew from rotten muscle.
So sick, toxic:
how does this disease feel?
I’ve rubbed off on you
“six feet won’t save you now,”
my skeleton smiles,
counting down.
So sick, toxic:
awaiting your departure
from the living world
you navigate with grace,
a ballet dancer
with a tear-stained face.
So sick, toxic:
in anticipation,
I rest my weary eyes,
awaiting your arrival
to where you should be:
my arms.
So sick, toxic:
cough the bile
out of your lungs.
Each trace of blood,
a reminder of me;
each bit of tar,
an ode to the depth of my eyes.
So sick, toxic:
lying in your bed, decrepit,
listening to the brass clock on
the wall of your hospital room
chime noon.
You’ll be with me, my sweet,
fifteen past noon.
So sick, toxic:
a reuniting, love everlasting,
I place a cold, skeletal kiss
on your cheek.
Thrilled by the skin I feel,
still
slightly
warm.
So sick, toxic:
exhume my corpse –
dug six feet under –
open the casket…
there’s still room for you.
So sick, toxic:
breathe life into me,
see these brittle bones,
held together so daintily
with sinew from rotten muscle.
So sick, toxic:
how does this disease feel?
I’ve rubbed off on you
“six feet won’t save you now,”
my skeleton smiles,
counting down.
So sick, toxic:
awaiting your departure
from the living world
you navigate with grace,
a ballet dancer
with a tear-stained face.
So sick, toxic:
in anticipation,
I rest my weary eyes,
awaiting your arrival
to where you should be:
my arms.
So sick, toxic:
cough the bile
out of your lungs.
Each trace of blood,
a reminder of me;
each bit of tar,
an ode to the depth of my eyes.
So sick, toxic:
lying in your bed, decrepit,
listening to the brass clock on
the wall of your hospital room
chime noon.
You’ll be with me, my sweet,
fifteen past noon.
So sick, toxic:
a reuniting, love everlasting,
I place a cold, skeletal kiss
on your cheek.
Thrilled by the skin I feel,
still
slightly
warm.
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
We Are The Sons~
We are the sons of Sorrow,
Born to a world,
With no Hope for tomorrow.
We are the sons of Disease,
With haste all our filth,
Is passed on with a breeze.
We are sons of Temptation,
Our greed is our hunger,
A self-condemnation.
We are the great sons of War,
Such power we have,
And yet still we want more.
We are the great sons of Death,
We value our life,
But we waste every breath.
We are the sons of Silence,
We are feared in the darkness,
For our eyes glow with violence.
We are the great sons of doom,
Constructing a fortress,
That will end up our tomb.
We are the great sons of Wrath,
Destroying all hope,
Of a change in our path.
We are the sons of a flame,
That burns all it can see,
And takes none of the blame.
We are the sons of Distress,
Born in blood to confess,
To the wrongs of before,
Done by Men who're no more.
We are the sons of the Past,
Born to break,
Never last.
We are the sons of Today,
Made only to think,
And then fade away.
We are the sons of Tomorrow,
Born in blood,
To leave only sorrow.
We are the sons of Sorrow,
Born to a world,
With no Hope for tomorrow.
We are the sons of Disease,
With haste all our filth,
Is passed on with a breeze.
We are sons of Temptation,
Our greed is our hunger,
A self-condemnation.
We are the great sons of War,
Such power we have,
And yet still we want more.
We are the great sons of Death,
We value our life,
But we waste every breath.
We are the sons of Silence,
We are feared in the darkness,
For our eyes glow with violence.
We are the great sons of doom,
Constructing a fortress,
That will end up our tomb.
We are the great sons of Wrath,
Destroying all hope,
Of a change in our path.
We are the sons of a flame,
That burns all it can see,
And takes none of the blame.
We are the sons of Distress,
Born in blood to confess,
To the wrongs of before,
Done by Men who're no more.
We are the sons of the Past,
Born to break,
Never last.
We are the sons of Today,
Made only to think,
And then fade away.
We are the sons of Tomorrow,
Born in blood,
To leave only sorrow.
Who's sorry now
she said sorry
I told her to shut up, didn't want to go there
not this time
didn't want to spent the next three hours
hearing the same fucking shit
over and over
been dodging this now for weeks
priorities n shit
she said sorry
but this time I was sorry too
because I'd lost the ability to forgive
and it felt like I was a shit
she said sorry
and she searched my eyes for something
then realized it was gone
and for two whole minutes
she understood what was wrong
could see the process happening in her mind
..then it was gone
and she said she was sorry
so I told her to fuck off with herself
and be sorry somewhere else
then she cried
and said she was sorry..
she said sorry
I told her to shut up, didn't want to go there
not this time
didn't want to spent the next three hours
hearing the same fucking shit
over and over
been dodging this now for weeks
priorities n shit
she said sorry
but this time I was sorry too
because I'd lost the ability to forgive
and it felt like I was a shit
she said sorry
and she searched my eyes for something
then realized it was gone
and for two whole minutes
she understood what was wrong
could see the process happening in her mind
..then it was gone
and she said she was sorry
so I told her to fuck off with herself
and be sorry somewhere else
then she cried
and said she was sorry..
How can this be love?
How can this be love?
you bring out my dark
How can this be love?
it's all flame and no spark
How can this be love?
when we hate so much
How can this be love?
I have to beg for your touch
How can this be love?
we have to ask for each kiss
How can this be love?
we live in misery not bliss
How can this be love?
hearts that are torn
How can this be love?
minds jaded and worn
How can this be love?
all the damage that's been done
How can this be love?
if the battle can't be won.
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Anonymous
Reflection of Repetition
you look so down and lonely
and you're starting to cry
you look so down and lonely
and it looks like you're suffering
you look so down and lonely
tears stream across your face
you're silently weeping to yourself
you look so down and lonely
and I can't do a thing
you look so down and lonely
like now you're breaking apart
you look so down and lonely
you're breaking before my eyes
and I- and I- I can't do anything
because I- 'cause I- am only
your reflection in the mirror
the mess on the couch
isn't funny
or the funny faces.
isn't the sleeping cats
or sleeping.
it isn't the thoughts
on top of thoughts
on top of me.
isn't the graceland rocks
that hung on posters
in her all pink room
with the floor
you stepped on
and it felt like
you could fall right through.
it isn't all the little bits of trash
that will someday
play connect the dots
and make up the map
of everything
that has ever fallen between the sheets
in the places
you and i both know
cannot be reached.
isn't a joke
or joking.
isn't the water
in more than one glass
or the piles of soaked dvds.
it isn't the stacks
on top of stacks
of notebooks
on top of me.
isn't the 1950's face
that hung on posters
in her all pink room
with the floor
you stepped on
and it felt like
you could fall right through.
it isn't all the trash
that i have still left
uncleaned,
or all the pretty green things
that have gone unwrapped
falling in between the seats
in the places
that you and i both know
cannot be reached
---
the mess on the couch
---
is me.
isn't funny
or the funny faces.
isn't the sleeping cats
or sleeping.
it isn't the thoughts
on top of thoughts
on top of me.
isn't the graceland rocks
that hung on posters
in her all pink room
with the floor
you stepped on
and it felt like
you could fall right through.
it isn't all the little bits of trash
that will someday
play connect the dots
and make up the map
of everything
that has ever fallen between the sheets
in the places
you and i both know
cannot be reached.
isn't a joke
or joking.
isn't the water
in more than one glass
or the piles of soaked dvds.
it isn't the stacks
on top of stacks
of notebooks
on top of me.
isn't the 1950's face
that hung on posters
in her all pink room
with the floor
you stepped on
and it felt like
you could fall right through.
it isn't all the trash
that i have still left
uncleaned,
or all the pretty green things
that have gone unwrapped
falling in between the seats
in the places
that you and i both know
cannot be reached
---
the mess on the couch
---
is me.
Anonymous
<< post removed >>