Best Etic Poems
Ev’ry child born soon grows to taste the good and bad of life,
and whether fortune smiles on him or her – ev’ry child soon learns
that obligations likely follow. ‘Tis likely they will take a husband or a wife.
On offspring they oft times pin their dreams unrealized. The world still turns.
Feb 22, 2020 for charles messina's Poe-Etic Verse Poetry Contest
Here lies the Count of Monte Cristo
Who got to settle a few scores
With stevedores and commodores
Before stretching out below
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on February 20, 2020 for contest POE-ETIC VERSE POETRY sponsored by CHARLES MESSINA - RANKED 2ND
Nebulous angels vacant worth
Foresee no fortunes adulate
Dawn's desecrated, faithless birth
Supine mother to stillborn fate
2/21/20
For 'Poe-etic Verse' contest
sponsor: charles messina
Shared 2nd Place
Oh! That this rose be a symbol of love
perfect it blooms- your beauty it holds
your perfumed scent in the fragrance of
and lo theses thorns pierce just as bold
February 22, 2020
Poe-etic poetry contest
Sponsored by Charles Messina
Within Hellish Abyss, Sounds Serpent's Hiss
Some tales he admires, considers so great,
in that clear vein, he does not hesitate.
Writing as madman, pen splashing hot ink,
there his mind and his poetic heart sink.
Sometimes fast and furious as pen flies,
born of deepest pain, as huge tears he cries
Despair, verses come as if from master Poe
then his joy arrives, his art starts to show.
Darkness invades and flesh is cut by blades,
amidst scattering of blacken tirades.
Within hellish abyss, sounds serpent's hiss
all set into a very Poe-like kiss.
Waiting for Poe to cast another verse,
raven curses, his soul sets to rehearse
Lines that eat into dark, its hellish pits
inspiration enfolds his deep inked fits.
World seethes into darkest of evil dark,
nothing matters except poetic marks.
His heart raging in blackest of hard blacks
he writes, before his Poe-etic trance cracks.
Some tales he admires, considers so great,
in that clear vein, he does not hesitate.
Writing as madman, pen splashing hot ink,
there his mind and his poetic heart sink.
Robert J. Lindley, 9-17- 2018
Dark rhyme, ( Dedicated to Master Poe)
Note: When inspired, let the pen dance.
If it is dark and Poe speaks, carry that torch until it burns the poetic mind.
Such is gift, a gem if one embraces the muse and says , ok let her rip..
The untitled sketch faded in terrible blow
It reminds me of broken promises
One last desperate attempt - in protest against line cuts
before the river burns its own artwork
02/19/2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Poe-etic Verse Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: charles messina
2nd place in the contest
Through misty darkness, like wanton dreams,
are voices in the seasons…
Foreboding words of reason's self,
are heard while I am sleeping
Forbidden shadows hover 'round,
keeping secrets, buried long
Stirring up those restless ghosts
gray and black, with spirits, blithe,
to host the pitch of night
The hand that sweeps the locks away
is the one I cannot feel
The eyes that feast upon my face
erases what is real
Those echoed voices mingle
in corners dark as umber
And all the words I've never known
have climbed into my slumber
_____________________________________________________
12/1/15 For "Put Your Best Poe Forward" hosted by Tommy Boy
Begone, thou creature hovering o’er my door
Your ebony feathers evoke my anger
My dear Lenore was swept up in your wings
Nevermore to share her love with me
February 19, 2020
For Charles Messina’s “Poe-etic” verse contest
Once upon a Monday manic morning I awoke in panic,
Panic with foreboding wrapped, into a world of troubles trapped,
I felt distinctly I’d been slapped, and from my bed of warmth been torn,
My eyes went wide, I cried and cried, that manic morn when I was born.
Submitted February 25, 2020 for the "Poe-etic Verse" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Charles Messina.
On pathways that lead to the dungeons of Hades
Macabre black ravens feast on decaying corpses
Through cracks in the wall see the dancing flames
Hear blood curdling screams of the damned within.
Written 20th February 2020
For Poe-etic Verse Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Charles Messina
Funeral bells call with somber tone
Pulling at my broken heart
Angels implore she should never go alone
Precious love and I will never part
Poe-etic Verse Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
2/24/2020
It was more than a decade ago...
Mom by faith was transported to God's celestial kingdom
now, she's joined by beloved Dad in blissful fellowship
awaiting loved ones for an eternal reunion midst worship* of grateful praise.
*Revelation 15:4 Who shall not fear thee, O Lord, and glorify thy name? for thou only art holy: for all nations shall come and worship before thee; for thy judgments are made manifest.
February 24, 2020
2nd place, "Poe-etic Verse" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Charles Messina; judged on 3/2/2020.
Lo! Lo! From my very beginning and birth I have been
unlike most- for I have lingered in thoughts and emotions deep-
And still "now"- my eyes hold fathomless sorrow;
life has roll'd, pass'd me flying- to and fro to "tomorrow."
__________________________
February 18, 2020
Poetry/Verse/To "Tomorrow
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1226-559-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Written for the contest, Poe Etic Verse
sponsor, Charles Messina, Theme chosen - birth
First Place
There's a place under the sun-which provide shade for
everyone. Where is this place! not in a place of refuge, but
stored within yourself-providing an overflowing river of ever-
lasting prudentcy too anyone?... If you feel it - Shout! "Give me
this Water".
This dampsel in this story come's at the point were absolute
direction was needed and finds herself speaking to the Messiah-who
would provide her with direction and deep quinching thirst for proph-
etic neccessities to get one's life in order. "Give me this water", are
you at that point now? right now, whereas the decision you've made
has brought you upon that crossroad of your life. A life whereas we're
sleeping with anyone, most times the wrong one, all looking for love
and emptiness has mis-lead us to become complacent and a nation
of unprotective boom-mer's has emerged and our live's has no order.
Jesus say's - I will give you water, water that will provide fulfillment
of Place & Grace. Running to the next town she tells everyone come-
meet this man who has told me everything of my past and of myself.
This-this man-for he must be the Messiah, he speaks to me about a
special water, that shall be an atonement unto his Kingdom. These
folk's come from all the places north of the border. Together we all
shout! "GIVE ME THIS WATER".
‘neath the fear of man and joy of mate,
bequeath thy death and burrow thy fate-
‘tis a filament of life strung straight,
bestowing a trait... of death too late
2.18.20
Poe-etic Verse Poetry Contest
Charles Messina