Poetry competition CLOSED 2nd June 2014 1:28pm
WINNER
Quill-in-Heart (Tony Pena)
Quill-in-Heart (Tony Pena)
RUNNER-UP:
kriticool
Metaphorically speaking
Anonymous
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Words are false idols
never knew silence could be so loud
the darkness brings light to memories I wish to forget
your words stuck on fucking replay tormenting my every thought
I will love you forever
echoing inside my head like a bullet that cant penetrate the “white meat”
yeah, I keep my shit locked away
happiness only comes a couple days a month
blonde hair with blue eyes screaming daddy jumps from the car
the same car I’ve imagined burning down with you and your new semen donor in it
she’s grown so much in the last few years
soon able to make choices for herself
I pray to whatever god that’s listening
when you see us drive away
those words bring you peace like they have me
never knew silence could be so loud
the darkness brings light to memories I wish to forget
your words stuck on fucking replay tormenting my every thought
I will love you forever
echoing inside my head like a bullet that cant penetrate the “white meat”
yeah, I keep my shit locked away
happiness only comes a couple days a month
blonde hair with blue eyes screaming daddy jumps from the car
the same car I’ve imagined burning down with you and your new semen donor in it
she’s grown so much in the last few years
soon able to make choices for herself
I pray to whatever god that’s listening
when you see us drive away
those words bring you peace like they have me
Words are false idols
An old man raised himself from his knees
and fell into a whisper
no one knows how good it gets
til they let the ghosts of bygones cross over
and fill themselves to the eyeballs with compassion
then he cried out to the heavens for clemency
made a fist and shook it at the small crowd gathering
and decreed himself at one with all souls.
there came a murmur of a notion
from the noblemen stood left of him
an under-tongue half talk
about demons and where shadowed creatures
walk the long nights off
but it was hardly even audible
above the stark din of bewilderment
a fleet of geese
hissed the shoes from a lady
too tired from slaving three days and nights
to offer any kind of meaningful fight
for to save them
and the old man raised his voice a tone
for a post script oration
in gratitude for the countless gifts
of tomato and cabbage
strewn upon and around him
An old man raised himself from his knees
and fell into a whisper
no one knows how good it gets
til they let the ghosts of bygones cross over
and fill themselves to the eyeballs with compassion
then he cried out to the heavens for clemency
made a fist and shook it at the small crowd gathering
and decreed himself at one with all souls.
there came a murmur of a notion
from the noblemen stood left of him
an under-tongue half talk
about demons and where shadowed creatures
walk the long nights off
but it was hardly even audible
above the stark din of bewilderment
a fleet of geese
hissed the shoes from a lady
too tired from slaving three days and nights
to offer any kind of meaningful fight
for to save them
and the old man raised his voice a tone
for a post script oration
in gratitude for the countless gifts
of tomato and cabbage
strewn upon and around him
Anonymous
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Anonymous
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Anonymous
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His Belt Was A Snake Curling Around His Waist
I watched,
From the corner of the eye
That didn't have a bruise,
The charismatic ways
Of the man
Who everything I love about him
Is everything I hate.
I watched
As his abs contracted and flexed
While he pulled the wranglers
Up over his freshly flaccid member
And did up his snake skin belt.
I watched,
From the corner of the eye
That didn't have a bruise,
The charismatic ways
Of the man
Who everything I love about him
Is everything I hate.
I watched
As his abs contracted and flexed
While he pulled the wranglers
Up over his freshly flaccid member
And did up his snake skin belt.
Her Hair Was Bone White
She's old you know
That's what age does to a woman
Time ain't friendly, Time ain't nice
Time don't care once, and Time don't care twice
She made it through these bitter years
Barely gettin' by
She digs in her mind like garbage cans
Rarely gettin' pie
This might be her last year on Earth
Every breath she takes
Inhales the hurt
She wants to let go of the mistakes
And finally exhale all of her hate
Down on her luck
Dirt on her knees
Palms and fingers together,
"Please Lord, please."
And her hair was bone white,
The day she went home.
(thank you, that's my entry)
She's old you know
That's what age does to a woman
Time ain't friendly, Time ain't nice
Time don't care once, and Time don't care twice
She made it through these bitter years
Barely gettin' by
She digs in her mind like garbage cans
Rarely gettin' pie
This might be her last year on Earth
Every breath she takes
Inhales the hurt
She wants to let go of the mistakes
And finally exhale all of her hate
Down on her luck
Dirt on her knees
Palms and fingers together,
"Please Lord, please."
And her hair was bone white,
The day she went home.
(thank you, that's my entry)
Her Hair Was Bone White
Her hair is bone white
She evokes metaphors
And transforms regular words into verbs
She pedestal-ed my words
She stair-cased my soul
And left me broken and droopy
Is droopy the word
And if it is then its giddy
Giddy is a word for girls
Yet my hair is white like bone
And her's is too
We are the Chosen Ones
Only in my dreams
You see she has the ability
To evoke these metaphors and similes
From inside of me
But I am the poet
And she is just the inspiration
Which makes me more important
She is the amused muse
She is the one who gave the inspiration
So I guess the writer is worthless
Like the paper and the pen
You can scratch these words into your skin
The truth is
Her hair is white like bone
And she is the one who evokes these metaphors from me
She is the one who makes me say things like
She pedestal-ed my words
She stair-cased my soul
Until finally I was god
Or goddess because all evil is born of men
And I want to be without sin
Her hair was bone
As if she had been dead too long
For even laws of death to govern her corpse
As she makes nouns into verbs
She footstool-ed me
And left me broken and needy
Pleading for more than
What I am seeing
A poem to the white-haired beauty
Truth
Her hair is bone white
She evokes metaphors
And transforms regular words into verbs
She pedestal-ed my words
She stair-cased my soul
And left me broken and droopy
Is droopy the word
And if it is then its giddy
Giddy is a word for girls
Yet my hair is white like bone
And her's is too
We are the Chosen Ones
Only in my dreams
You see she has the ability
To evoke these metaphors and similes
From inside of me
But I am the poet
And she is just the inspiration
Which makes me more important
She is the amused muse
She is the one who gave the inspiration
So I guess the writer is worthless
Like the paper and the pen
You can scratch these words into your skin
The truth is
Her hair is white like bone
And she is the one who evokes these metaphors from me
She is the one who makes me say things like
She pedestal-ed my words
She stair-cased my soul
Until finally I was god
Or goddess because all evil is born of men
And I want to be without sin
Her hair was bone
As if she had been dead too long
For even laws of death to govern her corpse
As she makes nouns into verbs
She footstool-ed me
And left me broken and needy
Pleading for more than
What I am seeing
A poem to the white-haired beauty
Truth
it'd be disingenuous of me
to tell you to write;
since I no longer have a valid address
and you ran out of bartering words
a while ago...
'cause we're the crooked kind
thick as thieves; but with less honor
we tell the most beautiful lies
...and I am a magpie
rereading polished epistles
in all-consuming effigy
unable to resist
their inexorable shine
we tell the most beautiful lies
thick as thieves; but with less honor
'cause we're the crooked kind
Anonymous
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Anonymous
Fear is a beast that feeds on attention
Marinated trepidation
anxiety in spicy guazzetto
craving the flavor of attention
in need to rescue taste buds
too frightened to be quenched
Hunger flourish
as fear fester into an entity
conceived with idle hands….
employed by distressed mind,
Momentum builds to face-off fright
gaining control
liquid bravery sipped
from a long stem glass
swallowing resolution
acquiring courage
conquering,
Fear
~Rain~
Marinated trepidation
anxiety in spicy guazzetto
craving the flavor of attention
in need to rescue taste buds
too frightened to be quenched
Hunger flourish
as fear fester into an entity
conceived with idle hands….
employed by distressed mind,
Momentum builds to face-off fright
gaining control
liquid bravery sipped
from a long stem glass
swallowing resolution
acquiring courage
conquering,
Fear
~Rain~
Fear is the BEAST THAT DEVOURS ATTENTION
By Mike Stewart
The individual proccessing implication
when fear is found, & bound
Through Dessimation
of the software, with design, the integration
of useful learning being efficient within frustration
its like a light switch
Which supplies the right batch
of subliminal thought trains
to make you an animal; not tame
this hot flame
causrs the spite
to make u feel hype
annd take what you like
on a basis of strife
and blame in your life
Others for all yoir sorrow
The money we borrow?
is funny, tommorow
it will be worth less and less
deflating your wage, aggressing your stress
one hell of a mess
like a bell without rest
its ringing, through every nest
and every home
250?
k I must end this poem
2014©
By Mike Stewart
The individual proccessing implication
when fear is found, & bound
Through Dessimation
of the software, with design, the integration
of useful learning being efficient within frustration
its like a light switch
Which supplies the right batch
of subliminal thought trains
to make you an animal; not tame
this hot flame
causrs the spite
to make u feel hype
annd take what you like
on a basis of strife
and blame in your life
Others for all yoir sorrow
The money we borrow?
is funny, tommorow
it will be worth less and less
deflating your wage, aggressing your stress
one hell of a mess
like a bell without rest
its ringing, through every nest
and every home
250?
k I must end this poem
2014©
Fear is a beast that feeds on attention
A nightmare but a runaway
train of dream and a dream
but a manifestation of manias
remaining once the mind's
been stripped of day to day
logic like a g string flying
off flesh in a nudie bar
leaving just tits and ass,
but your boobs are too small
and your butt way too big
so you wither in the shadows
with stagefright as everybody's
eyes size you up against the tape
measure of the tabloid queens,
of your friends, of your sisters,
of your mother as you devour
one last potato chip till
you go puke up enough
calories to fit in.
A nightmare but a runaway
train of dream and a dream
but a manifestation of manias
remaining once the mind's
been stripped of day to day
logic like a g string flying
off flesh in a nudie bar
leaving just tits and ass,
but your boobs are too small
and your butt way too big
so you wither in the shadows
with stagefright as everybody's
eyes size you up against the tape
measure of the tabloid queens,
of your friends, of your sisters,
of your mother as you devour
one last potato chip till
you go puke up enough
calories to fit in.
FEAR IS A BEAST THAT FEEDS ON ATTENTION
http://8020.photos.jpgmag.com/2725414_195156_2604cef8b2_l.jpg
Fear is a Beast with a hunger
Then gallops ahead to grow famished
It’ll wine & dine on what’s succulent
Undeniable to whom it has vanquished
Once having your attention
Only what’s dead-on is what it’ll seek
To affirm what’s been mentioned
As one awaits the increase
of what’s bleak
Meaning,
Now that you’ve been captured and
held within Fear’s sphere...
Do you think its link and strength is
all that shall keep you here?”
Pissing yourself of all bravery; oh my, how savory
For the Captured the question seems somewhat unfair
Certainly not a way for this Beast to endear
For the Captured what's felt
Fear's terrible sway
With this Beast to say the least
engrossed in its
play
A demonstrative barrage
An emotional grab
Fear has the knife
Beastly each
stab
Where
the Captured; frightened
to their very core
Still wondering how fear
had crept past
ignore
Fear
extolling fright
position made clear
yes, Fear is a Beast
and keeps “Feel-Me”
quite near
...
photo: Ariel Arias