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  1. thirdwind
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    thirdwind Contributing Member Contest Administrator Reviewer Contributor

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    Poetry contest #266 -- theme: "heat"

    Discussion in 'Bi-Weekly Poetry Contest' started by thirdwind, Jun 21, 2015.

    The theme for this contest is "heat" (courtesy of @LOliver). You are free to interpret the theme 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 11. All entries should be posted directly in this thread. Replies will be anonymized by the anonymizer system, and they will be de-anonymized once voting ends. Keep in mind that you're responsible for making sure the formatting of your poem is correct.

    Good luck to everyone who enters!
     
  2. Lydia
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    Lydia Contributing Member Contributor

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    Location:
    Somewhere out there.
    Burn


    Whispers flutter and freeze
    electric whirring
    in the cold night sky
    I saw your soul glow.

    Entangled
    the strands caught hold of a spark
    fountains of light
    as our world returns to dust.

    Our blistered skin
    will heal in time
    inside, scorched and black
    we can’t ignore

    we lost the heat, baby.
     
  3. Nicoel
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    Nicoel Contributing Member

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    The Pattern of Love

    It blazed. Incinerated.
    Happy. Hate. Love.
    The heat of the power
    .....boiled my blood.

    It glowed. Shined.
    Love. Passion. Strength.
    The intensity of it
    .....grew angel wings

    It sparked. Blinded.
    Strength. Betrayal. Mark.
    The embers left behind
    .....glowed deep forever

    It burned. Scarred.
    Mark. Hate. Love.
    The heat of the moment
    .....remembered till last
     
  4. Razet Elwood
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    Razet Elwood Active Member

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    Puerto Rican heat Tanka

    a glass-wing butterfly
    flutters into my vision …
    Puerto Rican heat
    made bearable with shaved ice
    and a poem by Robert Frost
     
  5. LOliver
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    LOliver Member

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    Pompeii

    Pacing,
    and underneath
    my heart is racing,
    through streets made of waves
    and scorch baring paves,
    in this unending, blistering, heat.

    Stepping,
    on stepping stones
    of molten, setting
    rock and splitting ground,
    with ear biting sound
    in this unending, blistering, heat.

    Falling,
    through cracks like mouths,
    they scream. I'm calling,
    the sky above is blacked,
    in the ground below, I'm trapped
    in this unending, blistering, heat.
     
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  6. Aaron DC
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    Aaron DC Contributing Member

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    Yin & Yang

    A trillion years since we first walked the Earth, humans are now all that remain
    The resolution of our evolution
    In an ironic twist, he is the intuitive yin to my analytical yang. The last of our kind. Of any kind
    There were two of them
    Eternal beings of energy, without form
    Timeless. Formless.

    Completely unrestricted in what we can do or where we can go in this empty universe, our playground
    Drifting through space at unthinkable pace
    The universe dead but for us. There is nothing else. No stars. No planets. No others. Nothing
    The last of our race
    So far evolved that we are not really recognizable as human
    Human. Or alien?

    Concepts of gender no longer apply
    She, he or it - did it matter one whit?
    Except perhaps as a device to distinguish one from the other for this story
    Well perhaps, just a bit
    A story where we meet, once more
    Imagining. Their meeting.

    Having been pure energy all our lives, we have never had corporeal contact. My proximity is unusual in this vast, empty space
    He sensed she drew near, and trembled with fear
    But I do not touch him
    At the last felt her veer
    He is excited, anticipating, but also fearful, that he is about to lose the one thing he possesses
    Excitement. Resentment.

    I’ve been looking for another, someone with whom to test my idea, but found no one else
    "We're the only ones left," she sounded bereft
    So I return, intent on my plan -- what he interprets as my desire to steal his life force
    Still offering him theft
    It’s a hypothesis, untested, but I am confident he will not die per se. Not really
    Her premise. A promise.

    He has had time -- centuries -- to consider my proposal
    "I'm ready," he said, his voice filled with dread
    But continues to have reservations as to the final result.
    Would they soon be dead?
    I outline again my understanding, our potential for an even higher plane of existence. Of beauty in self-expression.
    Or ascendant. Resplendent.

    To "touch" we must fully reenter the physical plane, and do so via thought. A most rare occurrence
    With thought they took form; it wasn't the norm
    As our energy fields move closer, the excitation layer between us begins to generate heat
    As they approached it grew warm
    Heat! Another rare phenomenon in this cold, bleak universe.
    Consternation. New sensation.

    Our physical manifestations slowly move closer
    The last of their kind, they reached out - mind to mind
    Until they touch
    In the darkness did bind
    At which point a chain reaction occurs
    A commotion. Explosion.

    The point at which we touch is infinitesimal, yet from that speck of contact
    In that tiny space, a marvel took place
    A highly energetic release, flooding the emptiness with light
    As their energy's spark exploded the dark
    A blinding, fiery expansion. He sees he is not dying per se, as he watches the reaction unfold
    A fire spreading out, removing his doubt
    But becoming something more, something greater, transcending his current state of being, our combined energies filling the vacuum of space with something new
    Now filling the void, he felt overjoyed
    Something worth giving himself -- ourselves -- to
    A price gladly paid as they're starting to fade

    The birth of a new universe
    Her premise is: new genesis
     
    Last edited: Jul 11, 2015
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