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    thirdwind Contributing Member Contest Administrator Reviewer Contributor

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    Past Contest Poetry Contest #248 -- Theme: "A Meaningless Poem"

    Discussion in 'Bi-Weekly Poetry Contest' started by thirdwind, Jul 6, 2014.

    The theme for this contest is "A Meaningless Poem" (courtesy of @J. J. Baek). This is what J. J. Baek had to say about the theme:
    You are free to interpret the theme (and description) however you wish, but please make sure your poem does take the theme into account in some way.

    All entries are due by 11:59 PM EST on Saturday, July 19. Please PM me ("Start a Conversation") the poem, and I'll add it to this thread. As a reminder, all submissions are anonymous to ensure fair voting.

    Good luck to everyone who enters!
     
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    "Unspoken Plea"

    They sat beneath the cloudless skies,

    Looking into each other’s eyes,

    Her hair danced softly in the breeze,

    As the day said its goodbyes.


    In silence high up in the trees,

    The fireflies began to tease,

    The eyes that watched from down below,

    A show that just the poet sees.


    Into his heart began to flow,

    The words he’d write and to her show,

    His love for her within a poem.

    The only way to let her know.


    But as they walked together home,

    His mind again began to roam,

    And found no meaning in that poem.

    And found no meaning in that poem.


    For what to all do words enlist?

    Do they capture love’s first kiss?

    Her loving hand upon his wrist?

    Or is the meaning surely missed?


    He paused and knelt upon one knee,

    And in her brown eyes he could see,

    The answer to his unspoken plea,

    The way true love was meant to be.

    The way true love was meant to be
     
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    "Fretless"

    The wall stared at me and contemplated its stillness

    As I paddled my Les Paul down the avenue of light

    Darkness erupted with every dip of my spoon

    And happiness danced off the backs of reverberating fish

    I fornicated with lovers and made love to the rest

    I came to the edge of nothing and found even less
     
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    "Footprints of the Puppet"


    Strings broken and dangling,

    Painstakingly, tenderly gathered.

    Tracing through fingers, slim and calloused.

    Deftly, those same fingers fly,

    Weaving a web, intricate and strong.

    A cloak of strength, a net to break a fall.

    From those strings broken and dangling,

    Strings that once held the puppet,

    Bound and strangling.


    Free of strings and stings,

    Of words, weighted and barbed.

    One step, cautious and teetering.

    Unaided and reaching, a wobbling fall.

    The ground rushing up to kiss her chin.

    Iron paints her tongue, gravel dots her hands.

    Fire lights her eyes, not an easy journey,

    Making a path, forging through the dark.

    Learning to walk, discovering one's own wings.


    With a cloak woven of the pasts broken strings,

    A heart echoing in her ears,

    The puppet pushes up from the stones,

    Dashes away the salty, stinging tears.

    Gravel tore her hands, iron taints her tongue,

    But for this fallen puppet, her journey has only just begun.

    Another step, head held high,

    There is no stopping, her soul crying, begging her to try.

    Wobble and teeter, arms flailing about.

    Down again, stones biting, tears and scrapes stinging.


    The puppet, hand prints become footprints, pressed into the sand,

    As the rain begins to fall, clouds pressing into a scowl.

    Upon a shore strewn with sea glass formed of broken dreams.

    She takes another unsure step, eyes upon the sky.

    The weeping virga brushes a cheek, still damp from a recent cry.

    This is the cold dark place, where it all began, when she fell,

    Those damned strings cut and dangling.

    Alone, but for the song of sea, the whisper of an owl.

    The storm hides the stars, her compass on this course.

    So the puppet, patient and learning, folds slim, cold hands.


    Even here in this cold dark place,

    A gentle light is found, traced by lantern's breath,

    Eyes alight with hope, an inner bright fire,

    The reflection of a far off star, shining in the puppet's face.

    The edges, sharp and cutting, of broken glass...

    These treasures of the sea, are softened by the waves, the raw stripped away.

    Upon the cobalt sea, floats of glass, blown and bound by net,

    Shimmer in the night as the clouds break, the breeze freshening.

    And from the shadows comes the puppet, clad in a mantle of trembling, coltish grace.


    Her feet beneath her, moonshadows stretch ahead...

    Reaching out beyond the end of sight, rounding an unseen bend.

    There is a softness to the breeze, a touch hovers in the air.

    The merest hush of sound ruffles her windswept hair.

    This is no goblin, no ghoul from the dark.

    It is a verse, the song of a lark,

    Possessed of a broken wing, she who is learning to pray.

    A hand, torn and hesitant, reaches out...

    Plucking the wayfarer from the shore near a faery, who lies dead.


    The fallen litter the shore as the puppet passes by.

    Floats and sea glass reflecting constellations,

    Light a course amidst the water, sand and stone.

    The remnants of a battle, a tale carved into the echo of a bone.

    The waves, of tide and time, have washed away the gore.

    But she, this puppet, knows the lores of those that came before.

    Of the Last. Of the Lost. Of the Legends, gone.

    She, this puppet, though she knows it not, is a Keeper,

    Of a most curious place, pathways and byways, a Keeper of the Strangeways.


    This puppet, a dreamer, once fallen on her face,

    Glances back at her footprints in the sand.

    She has come long way, often in the dark without a star.

    The lark, pressed close, singing upon this foreign shore.

    A pathway along a desolate stretch now shows the way.

    But for this Keeper, her journey on this beach is done.

    The net woven from those tattered strings from beneath her cloak is drawn.

    The moon now sinks, swallowed by the sea, patient, still as stone she waits...

    Until the Phoenix, a comet in the sky,

    Ensnared her net, whisking the Keeper to a far flung place.
     
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    "But my dear brother! i've found your meaning"

    Sighs, well, well, well, well
    Well! Sighs
    I’m afraid there’s nothing
    Nothing here at all,
    Smirked lip, smirked smile
    Twisting like a pleasure lie,


    I hate that he’s better than me
    With money and no wonder,
    No art to be found in his tiny
    Melon.


    This poem is meaningless!
    Gibberish I call it! He says
    The words are all jumbled,
    I don’t believe in it,
    I don’t believe in anything anymore,
    My mouth feels numb-after reading it-
    My hair has mostly fallen out
    And as you can see
    My left hand is shaking.


    When all the meteors are the size of
    WYOMING
    And papers are never delivered
    Because the boys have long since
    DIED
    Then I’ll have found meaning
    For the words on your- err- page

    But he doesn’t know
    That all the meteors are the size of Wyoming
    And the papers are never delivered
    Because the boys have long since died.
    Prognosis: success.
     
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    "A Good Sadness"

    across the sea i wept,
    a quadrillion teardrops
    raining down and forming waves
    crashing on tender spokes
    where i heaved my chest
    the clouds billowed up
    and breathed a heavy breath
    shaking all the trees
    and humming songs of death

    across the great divide
    a solemn ring sounding fresh
    salty sweet rain on my ear
    a shadowed echo of content
    alive and breathing, i pull near
    the storied radio beating depth
    i understand the calling clear
    and radiate the love i felt
     
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    "Collocations"

    A meaningless poem analysis
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    about friends moving away,
    quotes and sayings about life for Facebook.

    A meaningless poem about friendship
    and Love Field Airport parking rates.

    A meaningless poem
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    A meaningless poem don't quit
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    about hair
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    and cancer.
     
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