Contest... Poems - Poems about Contest...

Inspired by Blue (1927) Kandinsky what distance could be covered in the absence of gravitational tug would sleep render us exquisite and unharmed fighting battles, falling in and out of love bathed in amnesia ...

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Hey, ANGIE I just want to say And I don't want to PAINT IT BLACK I know you felt UNDER MY THUMB But, seriously consider the facts YOU CAN'T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT Cause life is like TUMBLIN DICE You're just like those...

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When someone can forego her id and ego publishing poems of her friends to heal those on the mend Her...

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I shall read you a poem in my drunken state, if my speech is slurred, forgive me mate, it is a cocktail of rum, vodka and cognac, if boss finds out I will surely get the sack! so am i drinking at work? you may ask, yes, my mate, from my steel thermos flask, I bring in to work each morning...

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All over the couch and floor Hair, There and Everywhere ...

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With an unfamiliar phrase, she reassured me. the fact that clouds are always passing, Additionally, the burden we are currently bearing No difference will be made as the night becomes glassy. We sat there with our legs crossed on the old grass, Using silence as a form of communication. The world slowed down, the atmosphere was pleasant, A little cool and a...

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Good night ladies and gentlemen I’m ready to sleep and dream again My silk bonnet on my head again Ceiling fan going strong my friend Good night hope you sleep long But if you’re in another time zone Then enjoy your morning or noon May your day be pleasantly consumed And if you’re looking for a test Enter my Prince Roger Nelson...

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What makes me smile is your contest entry I laughed I sighed and pondered plenty I feel so torn when narrowing it down So many great poems in every round Thank you for your heartfelt poems Your words were unique and home grown It’s a fun challenge reading to place I appreciate your patience and grace...

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My hair is a whimsical canvas my crown It’s so versatile pinned up or flowing down An expression of my natural creativity Hair is a blessing of my femininity Sometimes I let the pillow style it Go with the flow wearing my wild wit In this way my hair is a cocoa cloud All soft and fluffy unruly truly proud Sometimes...

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A need to capture what I’ve been through to map life’s puzzle, writing’s the glue Making sense of what’s seemingly random so that I can understand some To preserve it for aye and forever...

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The sparring mind requires a venue fit for wide ambition’s pointed blade—the craze of poignant poetry’s unbridled wit.— Masked)by the wily writer’s wire-meshed gaze, the soul unleashes on the stage of writ a flurry of pen strokes, a wanton blaze of mangled meanings, aiming now to split— —to split the atmosphere in half…for praise! Ah—perhaps, in this contest of our wills, I...

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Colossians 3:17-25 KJV Bible "And whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father by him. [23] And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men; [24] Knowing that of the Lord ye shall receive the...

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Hello, my most esteemed poets, I am trying an experiment that I believe has not been done here on the PS site. I have posted a new poetry contest called "The Prismatic Self: A Gauntlet of Mirrors within the Arena.". The JUDGES have now been selected: 1. Lin Lane 2. Ink Empress 3. Duke Beaufort 4. Vanya Evangeline 5. Anne Winter 6. Hiya...

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Once upon a magical evening, an enchanted fairy I happened to see, dressed in a fantastical dress with two dappled wings of lace. She shone like the midnight sun— I must confess, she looked rather whimsical, sitting there by a green wooden door, waiting for your lore. The door was set in an ivy-cloaked wall, half-hidden beneath where the ancient trees...

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Paws on the windowsill, waiting for me Ears perked up at the jingle of keys Treats disappear with lightning speed Dirt on the floor, but I don’t mind Over and over, he’s one of a kind Goofy grin, tongue out, tail wagging behind Torn-up bear, stuffing all around Once his favorite, now battle-worn and brown You’d think it still squeaked by the way...

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