The Pensive Poet Poetry Contest. Sponsored by: Constance La France
By Poet "Oh yes, 100% human here. No AI for me."
Come let me tell you a story,
how writers once wrote.
They wrote from their loving hearts,
telling stories in different styles.
Some were rhymes or funny limericks,
verse was a favorite along with a tanka.
I find acrostic to be fun,
but taking more thought and time.
Today this new thing called AI,
is the new kid on the block.
AI has no loving heart to write with,
yet many readers have been blinded.
I put much thought and reflection,
into each poem for my readers.
A true writer writes because they love to,
also writing for their many readers.
The US tariffs declares the plot is lost
shielding the tired and old, from the new kid on the block.
Focusing on the past admits failure to compete
with others on a level playing field.
It says we've lost all
hope in our future innovation
and bright sparks in our populace
to lead us to our prosperity!
New kid on the block,
Other kids tease me a lot!
Trying not to cry,
All my old friends don't live close by.
Making new friends will cost me some time,
I need someone who's on my side.
First thing to do,
Find someone else who's new!
Check out what they like to do.
See if I can find something similar for two.
Then I'll note,
If they can get along with me!
Perhaps I'll have a friend,
Or three!
Hey kid, whatcha doing here
Has it already been a year
Father time is all grown up
2017 I wish you luck
Years gone by to tell the truth
Have been more than a bit rough on you
It's time to pass off the baton
To the new kid on the block
This new kid to come along
We hope to fatten him all up
With the best of everything
All the goodies life can bring
We'll treat this year like no other
Save the baby and bathwater
Keep him around until he's old
Polishing the silver, shining the gold
As every year we hold out hope
That this one's not all that she wrote
Oh and if you don't mind,
One more thing
Will you get the phone...
I think I hear the New Year ring
My name is heard in certain circles,
and its not the best of news;
There's tales of things I've never done,
even things I'd never choose.
But they like to paint their own picture,
of who I'm supposed to be;
Is their life so very empty,
that they have to pick on me?
I guess I'm the new kid on the block,
and I really didn't have a choice;
When I tried to set the record straight,
it was like I never had a voice.
They laugh and snicker at their own lies,
and the vicious circle grows;
They will believe what they want to anyway,
but the truth only God and I will know.
So I'll let them slander if they choose to,
but I'll hold my head up high;
For I know my conscience will be clear,
and never be a puppet to a lie.
Twenty years from home,
the distance marked by time.
Friends that remain forgotten,
are immortalized in my rhyme.
The new kid on the block,
moving from place to place.
Butterfly kisses that she gave,
cuddled in her warm embrace.
Each night alone in thought,
walking silently by the sea.
Turning over buried shells,
the same she picked for me.
Their colors always random,
some were cracked in half.
The ones that crawled away,
always did make her laugh.
That life that I do miss,
a princess under those stars.
Every morning she would claim,
that the day was forever ours.
Now she dances in a dream,
her soul part of my muse.
Seashells animate her beauty,
anytime when I so choose.
I started writing to cleanse my soul
And yes people, I have reached my goal
As I read, I can see, All that is around
And the joy of myself is what I found
I admire your thoughts, your souls and your pens
So you know I will be back again
And when I am don't be in shock
because I am
THE NEW KID ON THE BLOCK!!
By Ms. Keshia Murphy
This a test I see?
My skills on the line this time,
The “King” has chosen.
New kid on the block,
Now called the prince of Haiku,
I accept and kneel.
The day almost done,
As light surrenders to night,
The pressure rises.
Palms soaked pure sweat drips,
The quill trembles in my grasp.
Must not disappoint.
What style to complete,
Must dazzle King of Haiku.
Choka a challenge.
Must follow his steps.
For you my King a tough choice
You’re prince will perform.
My note now complete,
The task to choose the victim.
Search for souls to tag,
My eyes burrow deep,
Carolyn Devonshire.
Tag your it my dear!
By: Nathan Bane Leccese
© All Rights Reserved 05/20/09
______________________________________________________________
*I couldn't resist Carolyn. Your such a good friend in so short of time. :-)
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.