Best Contest Entry Poems
It was birds Yes Ducks !, Mallards no less
Flown down from Alberta that made this great mess !
I tried to stop them though I shivered in fear
They flew right on past me and landed right here.
They surrounded your cupcakes like an army brigade
and attacked them they did not a one could be saved !
Frosting was flying from the mauls of their beaks
cupcake crumbs scattered all around their webbed feet !
And when they were done and finally flew out
the leader duck threw the last cupcake in my mouth !
I tried not to eat it but it was stuck to my lips
I guess they were just hungry after their long trip ?
he used to steal
all the blankets -
TV remote in hand
I sprawl across
the empty spot on the bed
H ope and faith
A re in my heart,
P erhaps this year,
P erhaps a new start...
Y esterday is gone.
N ow I look to 2010,
E ying the dates,
W ondering when.
Y earning for health,
E veryone's worried.
A nother day gone:
R ainy and blurried.
©2009 Danielle White
His
damn heart!
Still it beats!!!
Form:
Covered bridge contest hosted by craig cornish
Father's grave was across the covered bridge.
The river was cold, white, rushing.
It roared on the broken stones, as
the mare stepped onto the planks
pulling her dark carriage on its black wheels.
Her iron shoes fell, dancing.
Shade covered the wreath of lillies.
Unable to hold on to the thick petals, their strong fragrance/
slipped away in the mist of the river.
Perhaps she could have stopped
so it could find its way back,
but the mare continued on the covered bridge.
The old wood moaned, and bent, under the weight of the carriage,/
startling a barn owl from its nest beneath the span.
It perched in a tree, clutching a firm branch,
its white face looking at the coffin.
I thought it asked a question, but the mare gave no reply
as she crossed the covered bridge.
Her great head nodded with each step toward the plot,
and sunlight poured over her as she touched the edge of the grass./
August 26, 2017
(draft iiiv)
*-- -- I spent my puberty pursuing Truth,
-- -- while Venus bound Adonis as a youth.*
My passions laid with Mysteries and Signs
the secret workings only hermits see,
those subtleties by which our fates align,
the ways young clocks may seed our destinies.
The vulvas that I held were hard-bound books,
vanillin pages streamed with ecstasy;
they weren't the sort that lived or died by looks,
their warmest whispers - ideologies.
My bedroom's full of volumes, silent, dry,
still waiting for that gentle touch to come,
and curve their lonely spines. But, what belies
the depth of blood? What warmer truth? There's none,
-- -- for nothing is so great as boundless love,
-- -- and, perfect bound, my books are not enough.
* additional lines for 16 line iambic pentameter contest
(draft ii)
A rivulet of light appeared,
-- the denouement of night was near.
The birds began to wake the years
-- for fools, and knaves, and cavaliers.
The denouement of night was near.
-- With feathered songs they hid their fears.
For fools, and knaves, and cavaliers
-- their fortunes, yet, were still unclear.
With feathered songs they hid their fears,
-- as stars began to disappear.
Their fortunes, yet, were still unclear,
-- and wise men taught their lessons q ueer.
As stars began to disappear
-- rivulets of light appeared,
while wise men taught their lessons q ueer
-- the birds were gone into the years.
Catie Lindsey poetry contest: Let it Be
Cross Stitch
Years do not heal words
stitched into the mind with a needle,
a sharp needle making its point
over and over,
'til every heartstring is used up.
What now?
What can we say to each other?
Just, let it be.
August 23, 2017
If deserted, was I, on an island, and was allowed only three integral items to take with me, what would they be?
If we are speaking of material things, I suppose I would take my favorite book in the whole world, "Ask Dr. Mueller" by Cookie Mueller. It is a book I cherish, and can read perpetually because it's just that good.
If, by some strange coincidence, there happened to electricity on the island, and an old, abandoned, yet functional CD player just so happened to be found, then I would want my favorite album in the world with me: "Live Through This" by Hole. I worship Courtney Love and her music. She is a grunge Goddess to me. I love every song on that album.
If pen and paper could magically count as just one item, then I would take mountains of paper and a plethora of pens so I could record everything and continue writing poetry while hoping to be rescued.
My acoustic Gibson Epiphone means the world to me; I cannot imagine not having it with me. I know how to play all the songs off "Live Through This", so perhaps I would choose my guitar instead; that way I can still enjoy those songs as I still compose more of my own; that makes sense, right?
If, by Divine Intervention, there was an abandoned, yet functional TV and DVD player, I would have to consider taking all seven seasons of "The Golden Girls"; I don't think I could survive without the Golden Girls; it's my favorite show ever. And also all of the "Star Wars" movies; those I cherish, too.
And also, since I am an addict/alcoholic, I would want to take tons of pills, whisky and Cola with me; I'm sure I could not survive without those.
I understand that perhaps people or pets may not be considered as "items", but if I could choose among them, well, I would have to take my loving partner, my best friend of twenty years and my two dogs, Sammy and Bilbo, and my three kitties: Marley, Archie and Punky (of course I count them all as one because I like to break the rules).
Since there are so many things I do not think I can live without, it's an impossible decision. But these are my considerations, nonetheless.
*What Would You Take Contest Entry
10-11-13
No longer beckoning to my enemies.
Pain and deceit are just memories.
No longer sitting on my stark throne of lies
Luring days of treachery have gone awry.
Rediscovered my soul, oh the precious gift!
Death of regrets, I beseech to be swift.
My heart and my truth are selflessly mending,
I am hale and hearty, my own happy ending.
**inspired by the poem, A Happy Ending
Sir Ian McKellen's a blast.
He once graced a day of my past:
warm crumpets in bed,
my cheeks turning red,
til Patrick appeared with a gasp!
9-14-2017
SLEEPWALK LYRICS CONTEST ENTRY
Sweet love
All I see is your sweet love
When I dream it’s your sweet love
When I walk in my sleep
Sweet love
All I need is your sweet love
All I’ll be is your sweet love
When I walk in my sleep
Now friends may disappear
troubles may follow us on our way
But-- I’ll --never leave you
we’ll hold together
Whatever they say
Baby
All we need is our sweet love
All we'll dream is our sweet love
When we walk in our sleep
(optional : high chord at the end.
I-I love you…)
The swaying of her hips,
the movement of her lips,
The way she moved her body
brought him into that one kiss.
He loved the way she moved,
she loved the way he talked,
It was a match made in Heaven,
a match made by God.
That single kiss they shared,
It made him fall in love.
Everything he did,
he did for her,
to this man, this woman was,
all there ever was.
Because even small ants cast long shadows,
He never did suspect,
that one day she’d go away.
Her time was drawing near,
and it’d be there all too soon.
He never saw the car,
I came from out of sight.
He did his best to stop it,
he did his best to fight.
But it was too late,
and the damage had already been done.
He cried when he realized,
that she was already gone.
And as he sat there crying,
he realized,
That even the small ants cast long shadows.
Two weeks later,
and he’s crying in his room.
He was starting to get tired,
and darkness began to loom.
He no longer wanted to live,
he no longer wanted to fight.
All he wanted to do,
is go to the looming light.
So as he sits there crying,
he writes his last note.
As the last tear,
He’ll ever cry,
falls from his face.
And the guns in his face,
the pain’s in his heart.
And from this world,
He then did depart.
All because small ants cast long shadows.
The light will still fade, if I take you in my arms,
but your eyes will be closed, safe in our secret light.
The wind will still quarrel with the trees,
but your ear will be near my chest, as
the wish to be here with you, always, repeats,
as if it will do any good, but
right here, right now,
as Summer condenses into warm honey,
your thought spreads through the jar of my body from base to brim,
heat I cannot give, only return to it's rightful owner.
The world will still be cold; the world will still be cruel,
even as my arms give you rest,
but I will give you rest,
until it comes to take me too.
9-18-2017
Painful Angles; Hope gets strangled
New fangled fears forever dangled
Entangled dreams are mostly mangled
Demons wrestled then wearily wrangled
StrAngels chAngeled,
My sweet CocAinegeles!
Those cunning exchAngeles
Outlawed derAngeles...
Oh, ye kind Angels, give me Peace-
From your embrace, never released
Envelope me, and do not cease
Wrap me in your Golden Fleece!
Let me taste your silver blood,
And in my Heart, a joyous flood
Sprouting wings, a Soul to spring,
Like a flower to its bud
*Angel in Your Eyes Contest Entry
Author: JustThatArchaicPoet
(I know this is a really weird piece, but I wanted some form "angel" in a lot of the verses, even if it's a word like "Angle". I guess it's more experimental than anything and probably not what you're looking for.)