Smoked gauze drifts across
the burnished face of the moon
revealed & concealed
Corrugated sheet
Pock marked with hammer craters
Bronzed at the summit
...ignored because it’s not dollars and cents,
not status…beyond such things he is blind.”
His wife just shrugged, “But what can you do, Ron?
As people say, there are all kinds of kinds.”
Ron just sighed, and walked up to his front porch,
he grabbed the rocker and watched his kids play,
It hurt to think his brother a stranger,
but guessed sometimes things just worked out that way.
Aurora: "the rest of the summer, its blank night sky, that twinkles softly with graceful tries to blend the softness of the night with deepening lulls that musically alight."
Lucifer: "I vaingloriously instate another well of darkness upon the firmament escape, little doves and coy wolves, deities like us must press our luck."
Uraeal: "Insipid, really."
Kate: "The longest field in this place of woe should call the calling pigeon and pigeonhole our goals."
RK: "Oui Oui these said it was best, I'd look to a new heaven but havens come rent."
arophc varuag: "I came for lit happenings I see now today, the main little droves have gone to back horseplay."
PW1: *Realizes he is needed near the well, but turns for a morsel of the usual melody*
The forbidden one: *Catches up with the gamblers who have gambled with the day*
Zeus: "I venture forsook thee as thy often finds the book is readied its spine in its prime."
Helel: "Only the few have found such fortunes like a cookie from China that has yet to be opened."
DR Dragon: "For half of this time, I shan't read a thing that isn't the bribe."
---End of act III---
Lucifer: "I shimmer like most, and most unlike them I am, so deceptive that curl that like the moon bends."
arophc varuag.: "Tumbling out of the sky, sky bedecked snow that stays asleep in the sky."
Aurora: "oh (forbidden word), I haven't the rhyme or reason for another pearl, will the turquoise moon shower like sea colored pearls?"
Uraeal: "Go find the mountain under the sky, I match so many with fearless white light that the sun has withered and died."
PW1: *Crosses the bridge some time later and basks nimbly in the shallows and balks*
---End of act III---
Despair overflows with sanguinary tears..
...“Me? Sell my land and house to him?
I’d never dare do such a thing!
He’s the worst neighbor one could have,
I would give that blackguard nothing!”
The sheriff paused, look at the sheet,
he’d seen his handwriting before,
then smirked and said, “So the man lies…
Boys, lock him behind some cell doors!”
Wolf roared in dismay at the words,
but was quickly led to the jail,
Malcolm just shrugged and went inside,
ignoring the rancher’s loud wail.
He still had lots of work to do,
and had court the very next day,
perhaps he could finish his brief
with one problem out of the way…
...All back-and-forth the fight raged through the morn,
men dove to hide, bushes off branches shorn,
ricochets rang as they bounced off the rock,
made it hard for Alistair to take stock.
At least two down, the others were scattered,
three of their foe lay lifeless on the earth,
but six more can, guns blazing, eyes alight,
Pritchard howled, seemed immune to all fright.
Alistar rose, and drilled him through the chest,
three guns barked back, slugs ripping through his vest,
He shot again, caught one man in the leg,
but slumped, knowing he was already dead;
just breathing hurt, all his body felt cold,
he dropped the gun, his mind no longer bold,
clutched a big rock, all dreams of money gone,
replaced by all he had done…and done wrong.
His dying through, before the final fall:
Perhaps Dan had been the smartest of them all…
It was spoken in clarity
A mention so obvious
For the world to see
Because of experience
and my naivaty
I just let it alone
Then when the talk of
Exspansion came
We acted new and all
arranged
Supporting with loyalty
Frowning faces that ever
One could see
I sang my song as which
we had rehersted
Sorting out what was last
Or first
I wanted comfort quenched
My thirst
My angry mind made me curse
Than to which I find
A public trust
To which end and what's the fuss
Conflicting promises
Come between us
What's that y'all squarkin about
the marvelous light
stepping like a flawless
nightingale
The valiant sunbeam is
engraved on runlet,
A product of regret and shame,
Traveling on broken paths, stained by sin.
Spreading sickness with each conjured flame.
Crimson dust, cobalt cosmic skies,
The endless black prolongs the harvest.
What is a shadow lord without his endless darkness?
Has thou not earned haunting spirits?
Malicious intent lurking over thy shoulders,
Cloaked in a facade, the decaying heart lies.
Not even in slumber will you know peace.
Such power is wasted.
Rituals to fuel this poison,
Undead militia, this pitiful bone brigade.
No matter how many gather together—
Worms are still worms.
Must this always end in violence?
There is nothing left.
Summon your perfect solution.
Alone in darkness, yet you crave a kingdom.
What do you have to say?
Tell me in worm words.
Richard the Third
was cruelly absurd.
He merely on whim,
disposed of who opposed him.
Cardinal Bourchier,
as matter of procedure,
did Richard’s bids
and hid the kids.
Henry Tudor,
Richard’s extruder,
challenged the Ring
and then became King.
The End.
So the Youth won the world
While still it was wild;
A dangerous thing
For all concerned.
Its chimeric parts
Searching out for a destiny
It cannot yet articulate.
The Youth, like all Youth,
Is wonderful and dangerous
To all who must deal with it,
But most of all, to itself.
Temperance of valor, greet me without shame
steal away with a sword from my leather baldric.
Grant me a final wish before ending my life,
thrust upon a throne with defiant sufferance.
Whilst falling in battle on a muddy bloody field;
although devout of faith, who shall pray for me?
Will our great God above grant forgiveness for past
sinful murderous deeds? I'm a warrior, not a priest,
tiller of soil; nor a follower guided along pious paths.
I can never forget that shrill of the battlefield wails.
Proclaim your righteous virtues, sing your victory
songs as sky and blood drain from my pallid eyes.
I now rule the people only in faded memories;
not a shameless King but a man of wanton dignity,
standing upon a white boar, I soar upon a ravens wing.
Richard the Third Poetry Contest
1/30/2026
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
Now is the winter of our discontent,
For our sins, we shall repent.
Not a soul can escape this torment,
Slowly turning us all senescent.
The cold wind in the east thus blows,
Falling are the petals of that frosty rose.
Our hearts have come to froze,
As we try to cast our minds to our woes.
Harm is the reminiscence of summer,
When we doth celebrate midsommar.
Oh the sun! What has now become of her,
Hiding in shadows, no radiance from her.
The hail hath come to end one and all,
The white rain on the earth doth fall.
How does one remove this hovering pall?
When the limited will cause them to brawl.
Sinking below this sheet of white,
Numbing our body, this frostbite.
Will we ever again see a twilight,
Or will this just be an endless night?
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