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HUNDREDTH poetry contest voting

Poll closed Nov 28, 2009.
  1. Caitlin’s Sonnet ~ Marshmallow

    0 vote(s)
    0.0%
  2. Filia ~ Sylous

    1 vote(s)
    4.3%
  3. Suspension ~ tarnished

    3 vote(s)
    13.0%
  4. Remember Decembre ~ TheHedgehog

    2 vote(s)
    8.7%
  5. Within The Blink Of An Eye ~ Gannon

    2 vote(s)
    8.7%
  6. remember ~ neirah

    0 vote(s)
    0.0%
  7. Outside Looking In ~ angeleyes8j

    1 vote(s)
    4.3%
  8. A Saturday Princess ~ Betzerd

    1 vote(s)
    4.3%
  9. Kelly and The Cops ~ TheYoungBloodSon

    0 vote(s)
    0.0%
  10. Live, Die a Little ~ Mulgan

    1 vote(s)
    4.3%
  11. Marathon ~ The-Joker

    2 vote(s)
    8.7%
  12. From the mind of a killer ~ ScaryPen

    0 vote(s)
    0.0%
  13. Forbidden Enticement ~ becca

    1 vote(s)
    4.3%
  14. Remember When You Were ~ Baywriter

    4 vote(s)
    17.4%
  15. My favourite dress ~ Drdoggerel

    0 vote(s)
    0.0%
  16. Moments Incomplete ~ Marshall41

    2 vote(s)
    8.7%
  17. A moment to remember ~ Rett

    0 vote(s)
    0.0%
  18. My Nightmare ~ Saigo

    2 vote(s)
    8.7%
  19. Best ~ lavendershy

    0 vote(s)
    0.0%
  20. Sophocles Wrote ~ Palmer

    1 vote(s)
    4.3%
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  1. Banzai
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    The HUNDREDTH contest voting - A Moment to Remember

    Discussion in 'Bi-Weekly Poetry Contest Archives' started by Banzai, Nov 21, 2009.

    Weekly
    Poetry Contest
    ONE HUNDRED
    Voting



    The contest is closed, and voting shall now commence! Apologies for the delay in starting the voting this week, I've been a little busy.

    This week's theme is A Moment To Remember

    Voting will end on Saturday 28th November 2009.

    Voting for yourself is entirely at your own discretion. I'm frankly sick of discussion on the matter, so any in here will be deleted. If you want to vote for yourself, go for it, but I personally wouldn't do that unless I genuinely believed mine was the best.


    The winning poem will be stickied for a week in the poetry contest.



    Oh, and if I catch anyone cheating, their entry will be removed from the contest and you will be unable to enter a poem into the contest for a month. Sorry to be such an ogre about this, I don't want to be, but rules are rules and are in place for valid reasons. If you can not follow the rules, you face the consequences.

    There is no prize to be won here, you can not claim you are an award winning poet, so as you can see, cheating really is pointless here!

    Best of luck to all entrants, and happy voting.


    Banzai
     
  2. Banzai
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    Caitlin’s Sonnet
    By Marshmallow


    Some men cannot fathom evidently,
    That this broken piece of my heart’s more
    When my life gets lifted off the floor,
    To know that your presence sets me free.
    And to know what lies in presence’s core,
    Is a desire, so clear and strong, for me.
    For in the dark, like a lighthouse glow
    At the sight of, my love too strong to deny,
    I feel like my heart command my eye cry.
    So with my pride and dignity below-
    I pray not my expression to lie-
    Alas, with heavy heart I let them flow.
    For out of my grasp she’ll pass again,
    That Angel among men – fair Caitlin.
     
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    Filia
    By Sylous


    Within her blue pools, the world is displayed in reflections of myself
    The sound of childish laughter is revealed in waves to those on the outside
    Within the circle, a sense of absolution bounds souls without compromise
    The flowing fields of honey are framed by the swirling seas of blues and whites
    Those not within our field are but whispers of the forest, soft and distant

    As the light fades, it illuminates only the noble and pure of the world
    Her twisted smile is wrapped in strokes of amber and love within the illumination
    As her feet lift higher, her arms stretch out like wings catching the wind
    I begin to pull her in closer and her excitement rushes like water cresting a fall
    Her happiness is frozen in time and I know nothing else but this moment

    Within a heart beat I extend my arms and she drift further away, laughing and screaming
    The image of her eyes falling are that of diamonds shimmering like morning dew
    Her mouth moves to utter words but twin thieves of wind and laughter steal them
    The stage begins to disappear as she returns to earth and her eyes stare up at me with pure and absolute love
    There is no light within my soul that burns brighter than her angelic words, "Again, daddy."
     
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    Suspension
    By tarnished


    The crisp shot of frozen speech,
    suspended in air as its released
    but love was not the object-
    merely a consequence.

    Thin, black, straightened lines sew
    the cracks in our citys streets-
    thick rimmed rectangular-
    shade of black to frame a face.

    Faded photographs and dirty windows
    grey shadows cast on hollow walls
    the floorboards begin to shake
    waking us forever.

    This moment, this piece
    of fragmented love-
    so precious… so scarce
    forever we will remain-

    suspended in frozen air.
     
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    Remember December
    By TheHedgehog


    Not yet to the porch,
    and they raise the steel drums,
    proclaiming the evening with hymns of metal.

    And where do the grains of sand go?
    I’ve scoured the reeds,
    wishing to pick them from the pluffmud,
    but it's all in vain, because our time was lost to the quiet.

    I want the saltwater on our skin once more,
    to feel the breeze, the Palmetto trees,
    all the memories, relived.
    But the jaded diversions of the creek, I realize,
    aren't enough to lullaby my anxiety.

    The silver snare drums have synchronized with the last fleeting sands,
    when the night aligns with morning.

    And all along I've kept a grain in my pocket,
    so that when the fireworks climax in the sky,
    I'll draw courage to say three other words than “Happy New Year.”
     
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    Within The Blink Of An Eye
    By Gannon


    Her dress caught mid-billow under light summer rain
    and as she crossed, our green eyes negated distance.
    Through the impurity of glass, framed in rainbows,
    she shimmered in porcelain, just for an instant.

    Her short shadow sat beside me in red flickers.
    Struck like a rabbit, she shone in lunar splendour
    and now, in ghostly monochrome and dead ahead,
    she blinked, no time to scream, nor to save her.
     
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    remember
    By neirah


    You'll give your life son, to serve and protect
    You'll die for your cause, for your country's respect,
    Remember one thing son, when in battle and scared
    I'll always be with you, I love you, I care
    You'll never be lonely or die on your own
    I'll be right there with you, in you heart and your soul
    To them you're a number, a beret with a gun,
    To me you're so precious,
    My pride,
    My noble son.
     
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    Outside Looking In
    By angeleyes8j


    In a sea of misery,
    sunlight can’t seep through.
    A huddle of storm filled clouds,
    cover the currents of hope.
    A subtle walk along the beach,
    washed away with thunder.
    Somewhere a silent cry for help shown through,
    with flashes of bitter lightening.
    Waves do not clap upon the shore,
    no sound of water rippling.
    Silence overwhelms the air tonight,
    with the exception of lightening and thunder.
    But looking up now at the sky,
    not a cloud within sight.
    Looking down at the shore line,
    waves clapping with standing ovation.
    Looking at the world around you,
    disbelief floods your eyes,
    illusion or a dream?
    Truth behold you weren’t seeing the world,
    you were seeing what lies within your heart.
     
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    A Saturday Princess
    By Betzerd


    In your living room, a box
    marked “never.” I search transparencies
    whose beauty drips slowly,
    swayed by gravities beckoning,
    bowed by heat,

    yellowed with brass-polish and jazz
    and age. A discarded nicotine patch
    lodged between the leaves of still-life
    smiles, dark to match circles
    under apologizing eyes.

    The crackle of a first sip,
    liquid smoke from your Capri,
    could have been shards of ice
    in a glass of single malt
    held by an unsure hand.

    I drop the stack of images
    in the pungent cloud; wry smile
    insists on my intentions.

    There are fingerprints on your cracked skin,
    my tongue cannot dissolve them--
    like Jell-O shots
    dried in cobalt stretch marks
    deep as veins.

    No children cry comfort from disturbed dreams,
    but echo ghostly pickled sighs, distilled
    when your laughter is all
    ‘Jack and Coke’ slaughtering the hallway.
    I follow a promise, and there was another

    promise, I hear your moaning
    testify, to be dressed in knit sweaters,
    plum skinned when crying “mother,”
    who never knew the milk and honey of your nights.

    Instead a Tabby named Peppermint
    sends calls shrilly between our curled toes,
    and you turn for a moment remorseful
    towards the mewing, paws clawing
    haphazard under your bedroom door.

    Bacon sizzles on the fry-pan, and I know
    I have slept too late to slip away
    before my conscience sobered. So I chew
    slowly, as if there had been something to enjoy.
     
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    Kelly and The Cops
    By TheYoungBloodSon


    She said her name was Kelly with an I
    So I told her a lie or maybe two
    And well I guess I forgot to mention you know who
    After that we took a shot
    Went outside and it was way too hot
    But she wanted to go somewhere……just to talk

    She looked okay with only her bleach blonde hair
    And nothing else besides her black underwear
    But just like with Zoey on all the drunken nights
    I closed my eyes and turned off the lights


    Twenty minutes later were still rolling around
    And I’m pretty sure she’s about to go down
    Suddenly though there was a scream, followed by a shout
    And she asked me to go see what it was all about

    But I told her babe not to worry
    Because with girls like this you’re always in a hurry
    Then Officer Cock Block kicked down the door
    And caught me making out with some random ugly whore
     
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    Live, Die a Little
    By Mulgan


    This- One Thirteenth Birthday;
    mandatory fun.
    Five hearts drum just flatly,
    pizza man to call.
    Bell, now teenage brother.
    And change, from the door.

    In blow standard issue,
    jar Os, blue the hall.
    There learn for five-sixths of us
    that One's Forever
     
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    Marathon
    By The-Joker


    His crowning moment dawns.
    May everyone remember
    how the phoenix spawns
    from a tiny ember.

    His skin oozes sweat.
    He waves to the crowd.
    His muscles are tinder,
    his skin a burning shroud.

    This new age warrior
    will prove his salt.
    All he will conquer.
    Pain is his assault.

    His heart‘s a rattle,
    shaken with jolts

    Here comes the closing battle.
    The finish line is in sight.
    What’s it like to be a champion?
    To be a modern day knight?

    Suddenly a halt.

    Something isn’t right.

    His praise won’t be spoken.
    His faces hits the hard ground.

    The rattle is broken;
    no breath, heartbeat or sound.

    Victory is a mystery.

    The modern day warrior
    is ancient history.
     
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    From the mind of a killer
    By ScaryPen


    Seconds pass and run out fast
    Measured in breaths, in ticks and tocks
    Eternity splits into tiny shards,
    Choking out a man’s dying thoughts.
    The mind clicks one last picture;
    A blade silences the final cry,
    And the wielder of pain smiles
    His image etched in a dying eye.
     
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    removed
     
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    Remember When You Were
    By Baywriter


    I see you each day
    by the streetlight,
    in a corner. Right at my neck.
    Over there. Everywhere.
    Never there.
    When you were,
    in June
    “I became a goddess wrapped
    in translucent scarves
    of provocative color.
    No man would resist.”
    “… it excited me.”
    “I was the luster of desire,
    gleaming brighter each time
    I unveiled new skin.”
    I remember. Everywhere.
    You said:
    “You will always
    Belong
    To
    Me.
    Those other men are nothing.”
    So was I. Your response:
    “The kingdom is aloft,
    and rose vines are my latter.
    Meet my blood at each handle;
    kisses on a petal aren't enough
    to hold me steady:
    I am plunging.
    Ice castles, floating wonder,
    pass me by, and by again.
    Underneath birch trees,
    I am reaching.
    And falling.
    Bitter calls press my lips,
    But I cannot stop.
    Stop the thorns on my flesh.
    It hurts.
    I need it.”
    I did not in July
    when
    “my body began to
    disintegrate beneath him.
    I couldn’t
    feel
    myself
    .”
    “I began my descent
    devoid of hesitation,
    falling into his form,
    the blackened lines
    and shaded sectors clinging
    to my body like a new lover.”
    “I wasn’t
    some
    whore.”
    Y
    O
    U
    “Punch, I punch back.
    Wanna die?
    Want it, fight for it.”
    Oh, scarlet and concrete
    Meeting in a dirty, infected kiss.
    Leave me. Leave me to burn.

    Angel, you called me.
    Dead angel. High angel.
    Won’t you lie, Angel?
    Just one more time, Angel.
    And then
    you were gone.
    Now.
    Never here. Over there.
    It could not be helped.
     
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    Moments Incomplete
    By Marshall41


    Birth and death rule moment’s spectrum,
    though each shade is no more
    separate from its neighbor than I
    from my arm or leg, for in losing
    either I am incompleted, and
    so it is with memories.

    An artist cannot solely woo glorious gold,
    for all emptiness and helplessness
    and godlessness mandate hues both
    dark and brooding by nature, and what
    use is artistry lacking both the reality and
    sur-reality of the human condition?

    People assign worth to snips scissored out of
    an entire life’s labor, placing
    mere fractions of that existence
    below or far above the greater enormity,
    misinferring that an entire painting is worth
    only the sum of its greater parts;

    they’re all like thieves scalping Mona Lisa’s
    smile, leaving the rest for trash,
    and in doing so waste both the
    whole and the piece, for a girl with
    no mouth is not a girl at all, and a mouth
    with no face is a discarded paper scrap –

    good only for disposing chewed gum.
     
  17. Banzai
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    A moment to remember
    By Rett


    A MOMENT TO REMEMBER
    MY BEST FRIEND

    I met my faithful friend this day
    Wondering on his own
    A puppy looking lost and scared
    In the big world all alone

    After many posts and adverts
    Looking for his home
    No one came to claim him
    So I kept him as my own

    Many adventures were had allround
    From beaches to bush and backyard
    Always together and having fun
    To conquer the world was not hard

    But years fly by all too quick
    And time is not on our side
    It all goes past in the blink of an eye
    And sometimes becomes unkind

    Sitting and waiting in that smelly room
    In my heart I knew this day would come
    The vet came in, and looking in his eyes
    I knew my friend’s days were done

    “There is nothing more that we can do”
    “We’ve done all that we can”
    “Your dog is old and his legs have tired”
    “Be kind to him, young man.”

    How do you look in your best friends eyes
    Knowing today shall be the last
    Heart bursting, not wanting to let him go
    Moments of great times that have past

    My faith became something new
    In to spiritual or of that kind
    Hoping he is in a peaceful place
    To ease my heart and mind

    I still have his collar to this day
    Memories from over 20 years
    A place in my heart he will always stay
    Forever to hold him dear

    Memories remembered from another life
    One not that far behind
    Memories can come from others
    And not just the human kind
     
  18. Banzai
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    My Nightmare
    By Saigo


    We fall asleep, we dream at night, of things that never be.
    We think up times and places that we might never see.

    Sometimes our dreams are ill-perceived and haunting they soon turn,
    they feed our fears and kill our hope, then faith is next to burn.

    A boy awoke one night in tears to find that he was dreaming,
    he realized quite at once that this was more than it was seeming.

    Another voice had crossed his mind, not known but one he knew,
    it sounded faint but similar, a voice that slowly grew.

    At first it started quietly, feeding him new thoughts.
    It grew so loud that soon enough this voice had his mind wrought.

    This new voice inside his head had taken over now
    "and not again will I be sheathed inside this head, I vow"

    And so they switched the boy and voice, the boy had lost this bout,
    The real boy trapped within his mind, the voice was now let out.

    And now the boy trapped in his mind was living a false life,
    one he hated and abhorred, and one that's full of strife.

    "I know it's fake it isn't real, it's just what I percept"
    the boy, the one trapped in his mind, had only cried and wept.

    "What happened, dream, for you to act so strange and yes, misleading.
    You were so small, so quiet, but now tis I that's fleeting "

    "You used to be so quiet, used to be so fair,
    what have you become, but a menacing Nightmare."

    The voice, the one that's in control had heard and mocked the boy
    "You're trapped in there, you puny fool, you are my useless toy.

    For years I lay subconscious, trapped within your skull,
    forced to sit in the backseat, and I assure you it's quite dull.

    I hope you feel the wait, endure eternal darkness
    for that is what I give you, fool, now that I have starkness."

    And with those words the boy wept more, fleeing all the sorrow
    not knowing that there had been a cure, a power he could borrow.

    Days went on and trapped inside, the boy's mind slowly fading,
    when from above a golden light was falling down, cascading.

    It fell upon the crying boy and told him then to stand
    the boy just said he couldn't, then looked up and saw the hand.

    he grabbed the hand and he stood up, beside the golden light,
    the Nightmare's voice then filled his head, he would not go but fight.

    The two voices fought each other, the boy had wished he'd heard
    the languages that each had spoken were not his spoken word.

    And in the end the golden light had slowly disappeared
    and it was then the Nightmare screamed, it's voice now high and weird:

    "it was not supposed to be, you were to stay inside!
    it was I who was to live your life, and you to stay and hide!"

    But now, the boy, who understood, glowing gold and tall,
    began to speak in ways that he had never used at all.

    "For now you see, you cannot hide, my might is all but rare,
    I vanquish thee, be gone from here, you pitiful Nightmare."
     
  19. Banzai
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    Best
    By lavendershy


    I was happy then
    or I thought I was, which
    really is the same
    thing. Play hard,
    like the rest
    Work a little,
    like the rest
    Get good grades,
    like the rest,
    I would say that
    I was happy.

    I had my friends,
    embarked on unimaginable
    imagined voyages to cross
    the Grand Canyon on
    monkey bards, fly through
    a hurricane on
    shaky swings, playing
    "Water Cycle" on the
    chin-up bars -
    pulling up! Evaporation
    swinging over! Condensation
    falling down! Precipitation
    until the teacher called
    and we trooped back in
    tired, thirsty, red and eager.
    I would say that
    I was happy.

    But there was a barrier
    That stung me, like an electric
    fence, if I tried to
    cross. It was
    subtle,
    quiet,
    hardly there,
    but it hurt.
    Enter the girls'
    Chatty cacophony
    of dress and hair
    with a rare comment
    and "whatever" eyes
    and "are you done?" mouths
    said "We don't want you! Go
    away!" Ask the boys
    what they were doing
    hunched in a huddle
    and an angry face,
    my friend's face, said without
    words, "We don't want you! Go
    away!" I didn't know what the hurt was
    then. Now I see
    that in the middle of them all
    I was lonely.

    I was glad to leave,
    glad to "homeschool"
    (whatever that was).
    I was lonely in the middle of them,
    and would be from the outside -
    what did the difference
    matter? But sometimes
    I wanted someone who
    could understand me,
    and it hurt,
    HURT
    hurt.

    At church, I fit in
    people talked to me, asked me
    questions, laughed with me,
    but I was alone
    just as much. Liz
    was five years my elder, and
    the younger girls had their
    own friends. But Madelynn,
    quirky, pretty, sweet,
    moved up a level
    and we started to do thing
    together. A friendship
    like all the others,
    I thought, outside,
    artificial, smile, laugh,
    nod.

    A few months ago,
    Just a simple introduction,
    her grandparents visiting
    for her birthday, Madelynn
    said, direct and simple,
    "Grandma, this is Emily -
    she's my best friend."
    I almost cried.
    "Best friend" - how many times
    have I heard those words?
    "He's my best friend"
    "My best friend's coming over tonight"
    "My best friend has one of those"
    But never
    about me. I had waited
    almost fourteen years
    to hear those four words.
    "She's my best friend."
    Best.
    And it hurt,
    HURT,
    hurt
    with joy.
     
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    Location:
    Reading, UK
    Sophocles Wrote.
    By Palmer


    On a fateful springtime day
    Destiny began to write
    A romantic cliché, a script for a play
    A conjecture of what just might

    The custodians raise the silhouettes
    As the actors go on stage
    The strings command the marionettes
    As the playwright turns the page

    The stage is set, the lights are on
    And we must fulfill the script
    Puppets of fate, reluctant pawns
    With their freewill trashed and ripped

    With a blissful kiss that's but a fraud
    My soft heart skips a beat
    Joy and pain at once; it's odd
    Alas, the conscience sounds retreat

    The heaven on earth was but a fake
    Shattered in an instant
    I felt inside, a tormenting ache
    It was a paradise so distant

    Never will I get over the trauma
    Of expecting something better
    Laments dismay the sombre drama
    As I run outside the theatre

    Before the story had begun
    One thing was for certain
    Its pages were blank, and left undone
    To be shut with Shakespeare's curtain

    Will my story ever start?
    Or am I bound to fate?
    When will I play the missing part
    And how much longer must I wait?

    This is my life, my very own story
    A book of pain and sighs
    Written by fate, some allegory
    A farce of acts and lies
     
  21. Banzai
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    Banzai One-time Mod, but on the road to recovery Contributor

    Joined:
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    Location:
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    My favourite dress
    By Drdoggerel


    When it was worn for the first time,
    All of the planets were aligned,
    In its beautiful design
    And my biorhythms chimed
    In exquisite harmony

    I was a star, a saint, an empress
    An intellectual and a temptress
    There was no-one I failed to impress
    Threads of enchantment in that new dress
    Haute couture as sorcery

    Perhaps Pavlov or Paris Hilton?
    At any rate a strong compulsion
    To rediscover the elation
    I brought it out on all occasions
    And basked again in reverie

    I kept it carefully laundered
    And meticulously folded
    Occasionally embroidered
    Revamped, embellished and remoulded
    with some well-placed accessories

    But with time the colour faded
    Fashions changed, I became jaded
    Less and less it was paraded
    The closet space became invaded
    By fresher, brighter enemies

    Had I been told, would I believe
    I'd one day struggle to perceive
    that garment's shape? All I'd retrieve
    Is scraps of cloth the moths would leave
    As tattered, ragged memories
     
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