Best Contest Poem Poems
Tale of Two Citizens
The pair of bi-sexual two-timing women left the duplex, too drunk to board the Twin Cities 2:22 .
Double crossed on the two way street, the duo fled New York, clutching the Tale of Two Cities.
Poem 2 for the teamwork contest
Where is the light that lived within
Why has the flame of doubt appeared
The trees bend slightly in the wind
Towards darkness now have you veered
Focus on the things dear to you
Where is the light that lived within
Your day will come before it's through,
You that have lived not died with sin.
Deep in your soul you seek therein
The pleasures that should not have been
Where is the light that lived within
Questions of how this came and when
How long have you abandoned life
What have you done where have you been
Will you choose to remain in strife
Where is the light that lived within
Penned on 26/08/2013 using
Form : Quatern by
Seren Roberts and Wayland Bunch
Contest : Team Work
Some have jobs that are creative and such,
Me I'm a wannabee, a hasbeen so much.
I like sittinrounddoinnuttin best of all
Waiting on tomorrow for da next phone call
Don't like the idea must be twelvelines or less
Just a couple when describing da mess
I do think its nifty for a one day challenge here,
But it dontfit da lifestyle for da coffee N beer!
So whattheheck I'll doit wit dah zip directions.
But it ain't like hanging exposed to infections,
Well now I've filled the bill is all that I can say,
So here it is in English and YOU have a nice day!
I See Beyond…
I see beyond the damp, moldy roof shingling
I pay no mind to the stray cats on the stoop mingling
For I know that behind that chipped painted door
Is a not just cape cod cottage but much more
A young girl in a dress runs through the kitchen tearing her stocking
Mother yells from the window on the back patio
She holds her husbands hand as they watch the seagulls flocking
Their daughter joins to wish them farewell as they go
I see beyond the weathered exterior and picture what could be
A home filled with love and children, my wife and me
I say, “I’ll take it!” to the real estate agent who stands in awe
Apparently he and others were not able to see beyond
The Toymakers Toy
I thought once Pinocchios strings had been cut,
his wooden body turned to flesh
and he became ‘real’
Yet, I have been cut loose from my strings,
only to be left feeling numb,
and raw?
I feel as though I have landed,
like a twig that’s been thrown by a child.
And am now, Just Waiting
Waiting, to be trodden on.
I was gifted a voice,
by the fairy godmother herself.
But given no volume
Or words to speak.
My ears however, have to listen.
my eyes unable to close,
my control centre never sleeps,
My tastebuds completely frozen.
My vunerable heart,
placed outside of my chest.
With no love or protection,
Just the echo of my masters voice.
The clinking of chains
Secured to my wrists,
clogging My arteries,
And, Starving my veins.
each breath is harder,
like grissle that's been gnawed,
straight off a bone,
By a ferocious beast.
A broken toy,
with a soul.
that is wanting to be real.
To find Giuseppe
and be loved,
not wooden with strings.
1984 or 2017 (For Contest)
I ran as far away as I could
It predicted we'd fail, that all would ...
We humans revolt against "ought" and "should."
Orwell knew better - O well, you say!
In 1948, as one War seemed to give way
To a quieter, colder one, he penned away
We are all equal, but some are more equal
Between "Revelation" and "1984" one is a sequel
The last hope, the "last trump" renders us unequal
To the chosen, Napoleon and beasts like him,
(all rather uncouth but dressed to impress and kill)
Yet patience is preached; leaders are ordained by Him
Saddam Hussein had a name with "dam" in it
The anti-Christ may be smoother, imitating the Holy Spirit;
Lighter is not always whiter, or righter - I mean "right"?
Before Napoleon, the Books of Romans and Corinthians stated
We all fall short of the mark, God's standard (always hated!)
Not in love, in democracy or "progress" as we get highly educated
I, too, may be a recovering chauvinistic pig
My prayer is that my current Christian wig
Is of the New Man, kosher, sans hate, with Shalom, sans intrigue
Faithful with God's Spirit, loyal to His Son
From heaven all humans look alike, in hate and unforgiveness - one -
The last trump may usher in True Government, God's Kingdom!
(c) Anil Deo, 20170325
I entered a contest the other day
Waited patiently for it to be judged
Oh drat - I’ve got yet another N/A
The ‘glowing comments’ I received were fudged!
So I thought I’d change my poetry style
To see if a new strategy would work...
ANOTHER N/A's added to my pile
Now I feel a complete and utter jerk!
Guess now I’ve got a bee in my bonnet
So I’ll try harder than ever before
If I write Eve a fabulous sonnet
It will be a winner with her I’m sure!
I’ll pen a great poem for Eve’s delight ….
I just need to think of some words to write!
Checked with how many syllables
08~26~16
Where is the light that lived within,
Why has the flame of doubt appeared.
The trees bend slightly in the wind
Towards darkness, now have you veered.
Focus on the things dear to you,
Where is the light that lived within.
Your day will come before it's through,
You that have, not died, with sin.
Deep in your soul, you seek therein
The pleasures, that should not have been.
Where is the light that lived within.
Questions of how this came and when
How long have you abandoned life
What have you done, where have you been,
Will you choose to remain in strife
Where is the light, that lived within.
Penned on 26/08/2013 using
Form : Quatern by
Seren Roberts and Wayland Bunch
Contest : Team Work
Her heart stirred, she smiled
looking at the face she loved.
His eyes mirrored hope
remembering their lost love
crushed by fate, re-awakened
Penned on 26/08/2013 using
Form : Tanka by
Wayland Bunch and Seren Roberts
Contest : Team Work
Love from two ends close and fix themselves into a monolithic bond.
One line from "Unspoken Need -The Second Part"
One Liner About Love Contest
Sponsored by Silent One
Written 2 Oct 2016 at Camp Hovey in The Republic of Korea
For every person, there can be a desire
It is to touch and hold that beautiful fire.
Rageful though it can be, it can be tamed,
Even then, for destruction, it might be blamed.
It is really our fault for the destruction it caused,
And the huge fires can not (shortly) be paused.
Some people think there are deities of fire,
And some people use it to burn dead people's pires.
When fire runs wild, it can never be good,
I would run away like sensible people would. (Lol!)
Sometimes I think fire is Satan's bite,
But other times it can bring comforting light.
How can one thing have such opposite sides?
It is beautiful but it is responsible for many that died!
Sorry it is kinda dark!!!!!!!
Jesus the lover, the helper, the saviour,
Gave his life so we'd be forgiven.
He died for us so to repay him,
In harmony and peace we should live in.
He loves us no matter what,
And so we should do the same.
Towards him and all our brothers,
if we did, there would be no maim.
He made miracles,
The impossible happen.
He healed the blind and lame;
Now he's gone down in fame.
People love him,
And his father too.
Some think they're the only gods;
And maybe it is true.
He is said to be born on CHRISTmas,
In a tiny stable.
Thank goodness he was born,
He's like a tiny Angel.
on the roof
cookie crumbs
unnoticed
in the snow
long sleigh marks
excitement
joyous laugh
from window
boy and girl
Written 12-06-2018 Charlieku 3-3-3 Poetry Contest Sponsor: Charles Messina
I’m excited to announce my new contest
Enter if you will if you don’t no sweat
This one is based on Stevie Wonder Music
It’s meant to be fun and a tribute so do it
Please be kind and use your own mind
No plagiarism no profanity no AI
I look forward to reading your precious lines
The flowetry of poetry always a good time
No rules except write something new
No AI no words that are lude
Remember not to write your name too
And I can’t see photos until contest concludes!
Good luck
In a quiet street, his music would play,
The last organ grinder, day after day.
Under the moon's soft and silvery gleam,
He lived his life like a fading dream.
No crowd gathered 'round, no applause or cheer,
Just the sound of his organ, crystal clear.
With weathered hands and a knowing gaze,
He played for himself in those dim-lit days.
No family, no friends, just his trusty machine,
He lived and he played in a world unseen.
As the stars above blinked out one by one,
The Last Organ Grinder's song was done.
Alone in the silence, he quietly passed,
No one to mourn him, no words that would last.
In the empty streets where memories wane,
The last organ grinder found his final lane.
His story untold, a life obscure,
In the heart of the city, he'd endure.
His music still lingers in the city's hum,
The last organ grinder, in the city's memory, drums.