?

Pick the poem you think should win the poetry contest.

Poll closed Jul 5, 2014.
  1. "Behind the Curtain"

    0 vote(s)
    0.0%
  2. "Piranhas"

    3 vote(s)
    27.3%
  3. "Shadow of Fate"

    1 vote(s)
    9.1%
  4. "Is this Fate?"

    2 vote(s)
    18.2%
  5. "It was fate, truly"

    2 vote(s)
    18.2%
  6. "Sonnet 18"

    3 vote(s)
    27.3%
  1. thirdwind
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    thirdwind Contributing Member Contest Administrator Reviewer Contributor

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    Closed Voting Voting for Poetry Contest #246 -- Theme: "Fate"

    Discussion in 'Bi-Weekly Poetry Contest' started by thirdwind, Jun 22, 2014.

    Voting is now open for Poetry Contest #246. The poll will close in 13 days on Saturday, July 5.

    For your convenience, I'm going to post the poems in this thread. Please read them all before voting.

    A big thanks to everyone who entered, and good luck!
     
  2. thirdwind
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    thirdwind Contributing Member Contest Administrator Reviewer Contributor

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    "Behind the Curtain"

    Pain pierces and locks me in place,
    Unable to move I fear the worst to come.
    Dangers lurk beyond my line of sight,
    Fear creeps in, as I sense I am soon done.


    With every sound I turn to see nothing,
    Knowing full aware there is something there.
    My eyes fail what my heart knows to be true,
    It’s not a matter if, but only a matter of where.


    Paralyzed I await for the redemptive finishing blow,
    Putting an end to this modern guerrilla warfare attack.
    Taking heed I cower to cover myself from the barrage,
    My assailant sure to circle around and come back.


    A curtain rises releasing me from the shackles of fear,
    Suddenly I comprehend the fate of my new found soul.
    Yelling out I challenge those that threaten my existence,
    For once I am no longer the victim, taking my life in control.
     
  3. thirdwind
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    "Piranhas"

    When you tumbled in my room
    I kicked you as hard as I could
    because my feet were bare
    and you were forsaken.

    The problem: we never reveal
    our milky hearts to lovers.

    You stumbled down the stairs
    like a sneezing motorboat.
    You splashed into my snot
    and then the fishes found you.

    My fishes chomp white only flesh,
    but you see, I am not white.

    Luckily, neither were you.
    You scrambled up the stairs like eggs.
    Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. You said.
    I might have said the same

    but my feet: scarred and spangled.
    I tumbled down the stairs.

    In myself, I drowned.
    My skin peeled off, revealing white.
    You cried for help, but fishes
    don’t have ears.
     
  4. thirdwind
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    "Shadow of Fate"



    Upon the page were details written, translated to the stars that glisten,

    The life that fate had painted waited for him to live below.

    Illusions of decision making, and all of the risks that he’d been taking,

    The rules that he had spent life breaking, breaking to improve his life below,

    His situation continued steady, taking the route that only Fate could know.

    Nothing could change but this he did not know.


    He’d traveled this path once before, he’d reach the end and nothing more,

    The cycle just repeated when upon his soul the light was cast.

    He’d wake with questions about life, his quest again was filled with strife,

    He’d seek and find a lovely wife, with no memory of lives past.

    No matter how he’d try to change it, his journey followed patterns of lives past.

    As the shadow of Fate beneath his soul was cast.
     
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    thirdwind Contributing Member Contest Administrator Reviewer Contributor

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    "Is this Fate?"

    F all colors bleed around me

    A ll of them impatient, crowd, and seep

    T hey drip and drip into the next

    E choes of colors cease to exist; until only a blank canvas is left
     
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    "It was fate, truly"

    A girl that went out on a date,

    Was led to believe it was fate,

    She let him come over,

    He most certainly rode her,

    He then foolishly called her by "Kate?"
     
  7. thirdwind
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    "Sonnet 18"

    The King was slumped upon his sagging throne-
    He clutched his faded crown in wooden hands,
    While raining tears in silence on the sand
    That cloaked the floor of his once mighty home.

    The jagged ruins- strewn like ancient bones,
    All charred and choked in moss- were once so grand,
    But now they crumble down to meet the land.
    Who was this Fisher King who wept alone?

    He cried beneath a ceiling made from stars,
    That once was carved from stone with careful art,
    And gripped his crown although it formed the bars
    That locked him in his realm and from his heart.

    Forsaken by the path he chose to take-
    Were his mistakes to blame or was it fate?
     

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