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  1. Torana
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    Torana Contributing Member Contributor

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    89th Poetry Contest - A Poet's Mind

    Discussion in 'Bi-Weekly Poetry Contest Archives' started by Torana, Jul 16, 2009.

    The
    89th
    Poetry Contest.


    The commandments:

    * The poem must be based on the theme I set if not it will not be entered.
    * Only one poem per member or they will be deleted and you will be stricken from the contest.
    * No editing a poem once it is submitted without prior permission. So please PM me before you edit you poems or I will have no choice but to delete your poem without warning.
    * The poems are to be entered into this thread.
    * No soliciting votes. Do not ask people to vote for you, or attempt to cheat the system. You will be caught, and then I'll have to think of some suitable punishment for you.
    * Put the title at the beginning of your poem. You will receive a PM and have 24 hours to put in a title, or it will be removed and you will be notified by PM.
    * Each poem must be a minimum of 7 lines, if you do not write a minimum of seven lines, it will be removed.
    * You are not permitted to post this piece of poetry within the forum under any circumstances, until such a time that the contest comes to an end and voting has begun.


    Failure to abide by these rules (subject to change) will result in a PM and your poem being removed from the contest. These are not hard rules to follow.

    The entry stage will end in five days, on the 22nd of July, 2009, whereupon voting will be opened.

    The voting stage will end after three days, on the 25th of July, 2009. The winner will have their poem stickied in the Poetry Thread for a week following their victory.

    This week's theme (courtesy of Myself) is: A Poet's Mind

    Be imaginative and have fun :) Please PM any suggestions for future themes to myself and they will be used in the order in which they are received.


    Torana

    PS. Any questions which haven't been answered in this thread should be directed to me. Do NOT post questions in the thread. Any post which is not a valid contest entry will be deleted.
     
  2. J_F
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    J_F Member

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    Nothing Left

    When the coins pop out
    Of my mind onto the page,
    The clink they make is
    A fury of broken gears.

    Draft, erase, rewrite, scrap,
    Cover all my mistakes.
    A great line dispenses but
    It whistles an already known tune.

    In the dew of these dreadful days,
    A pinch (or pint) goes a long way.
    I take a walk and listen, just listen
    For life, but only a cistern of silence.

    And all my words are
    Like ancient etches
    In a valley of moss and tombstones,
    There’s nothing left to write.
     
  3. Gannon
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    Gannon Contributing Member Contributor

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    Think Again

    Diving real pearls from a dry-docked vessel
    in some keyless footnote to the horror world,
    they look for that light-bulb (locked chest of cliché):
    seeing it all from a willing quill unfurled,
    dear reader, we present the ensuing mêlée.

    Shuffling the long graffiti streets of Earth,
    in some cloud capp'd realm of NYC feet,
    the poets can be that which they truly are:
    easy towering leaps, then cold, cold defeat
    in that space so near, so unattainably far.
     
  4. Justjoshinbyj
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    Justjoshinbyj Member

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    Location:
    The state of all things pure
    I Am a Poem

    I am a poem
    written quickly
    in the margin of a menu,
    malleable, hot, a spark,
    beginning sparse,
    a splash of color in the dark
    formed into awkward jutting consonants
    and gritty syllables.

    I’m primal, unrefined,
    repeating the mistakes of my ancestors
    and skirting clichés about immortality
    but stumbling onto subtle truths and
    all so suddenly breaking out into an archaic rhythm.

    I’m faint, quiet, but firm,
    out of excessive lines and silly metaphors I pull
    a grain of profound understanding from
    the depths of the past, shining between
    shadows of understated importance and
    clear crimson blades thrown skyward in plea.

    I’m obliquely aware of my purpose.
    I intend to end in a grand conclusion,
    linking novae to death, and solace to insanity,
    and all the smaller things that so quietly augment life,
    but really I end below
    in that great white silence at the bottom of the page.
     
  5. Lesander Arnaut
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    Lesander Arnaut New Member

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    A gift to mankind

    A GIFT TO MANKIND





    The creativity
    The feelings
    The images so profound
    Words stacked in piles, Adjectives ,verbs and nouns.


    The open pallet white and so inviting
    Feelings empowered, by imagery of words they’re writing.
    Brushing back the cog webs, the fog of the mundane,
    Melon collie of the day begins to wane.


    conjuring pictures, blending words, with purposeful positioning
    Calling out feelings, bringing forth memories, of moments fleeting.
    With such impact as not to fade, conveying to those, a shared emotion, a place in time, in the poets mind.



    The best in craft can put you on a sunny day in the pouring rain,
    With the written word can make you feel joy and pain.
    By choice they share, in hopes that the world will care,
    The poets mind is both hugely brave and wonderfully kind.



    A poet has the power, to let a blind man see, the beauty of a flower
    Make him see the ugliness of a starving third world child,
    make him feel the hunger, feel the sorrow, feel the absence of tomorrow.



    The images they share, with words and care,
    Convey feelings, time, sentiment and rhyme.
    A gift to mankind
    THE POETS MIND
     
  6. Nobeler Than Lettuce
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    Nobeler Than Lettuce Contributing Member

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    From black.
    All chemical and electrical.
    Six degrees to knowing.
    Word centers knowing.
    Plain bodies speaking.
    Webs geometrical,
    and daftly refining.
    Constant with my dreams.
    Moving without seeing
    underlying means.
    No longer frozen thoughts stayed.
    We're left different when time ebbed and came.
    Cold starving, fair troubles
    love, life in bubbles.
    Casement to decay.
    “We have to start seriously questioning our mortality here, and our existence as a human on this planet. You know I think we all know enough about the universe and science. We've killed god. We've killed god so we just have to move forward and forget about religion because it doesn't explain a god damned thing about life on this ball of ****.”
     
  7. Torana
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    Torana Contributing Member Contributor

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    Poetry contest is now closed.

    Due to unforeseeable circumstances, the voting poll will not be posted up until tomorrow.

    Apologies for any inconvenience this has caused any members who have entered the poetry contest.

    Regards,

    Sherie
    Supporter/Reviewer
     
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