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  1. Banzai
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    Banzai One-time Mod, but on the road to recovery Contributor

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    Weekly Poetry Contest (153) - Smothering

    Discussion in 'Bi-Weekly Poetry Contest Archives' started by Banzai, Jun 7, 2011.

    Weekly
    Poetry Contest
    One Hundred and Fifty Three



    Sorry this is so late! A week and a day, I think that's a record. But now that my exams are done, I should be back on schedule. So on we go!

    The Rules
    • All entries must be on the set theme.
    • Only one entry per member.
    • No editing of entries once posted without my express permission (i.e. PM me and ask).
    • Poems must be titled
    • Entries must not have previously posted on the forums, and are not permitted to be posted for critique until AFTER the contest is completed.
    • Any violation of these rules will result in disqualification of entries, and possibly infraction.


    The entry stage will be open for six days, closing on Monday 13th June 2011.

    The voting stage will begin immediately, and will be open for three days, ending on Thursday 16th June 2011.


    And this week's theme is: Smothering

    The next (154th) contest's theme will be: Places, and it will be opened on Monday 13th June 2011.


    Be imaginative, have fun, and get writing.


    Banzai


    PS: If you have any questions, please feel free to PM me. I don't bite (much).
     
  2. Chairman_Xi
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    Chairman_Xi New Member

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    A Fatal Pursuit

    In dreams you awake me,
    beckon me forth -
    a siren; I yield.

    Heartened, I pursue it,
    a consumption,
    this vain bliss; I yield.

    I cede myself to you.
    My existence
    is yours now; I yield.

    Now, I am empty; still,
    you want more. But:
    I can yield no more -

    for I have yielded
    all I can.
     
  3. Kontrast
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    Kontrast Member

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    Smothered in Gravy

    congealed on my plate;
    a play dough like creation
    it glistens as if mourning
    for its own creamation

    "too much, too much"
    the poor potatoes scream
    a silent litany gone stale-
    with evaporating steam

    I can sympathize
    with what is on my plate
    for I too have been smothered
    with an ever present fate
     
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  4. Alexander Wallis
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    Alexander Wallis Member

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    Location:
    Tennessee
    Gasping For Breath

    Her beauty--beyond any mortal concern,
    Enough to make an angel yearn.
    For her looks and her mind,
    But none could ever hope to find.

    My lungs felt empty, void and flat.
    I felt my chest, Managed to grasp.
    I began to smother in her beauty,
    But managed to bring her face to me.
     
  5. Liza
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    Liza Active Member

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    Breathless

    Dead.
    You crushed my lungs,
    I can no longer inhale.
    You're gone, and so am I.

    Gasping
    I need to reach your air.
    I'm fumbling for it,
    But it's no longer mine.

    Breathless.
    Smothered by the weight,
    Of tragic events.
    You shouldn't have died.

    Breathing.
    My heart is beating.
    I've reached oxygen,
    I inhale feebly.

    Alive.
    I no longer breathe.
    I live, I thrive,
    On the simple thrills left in life.
     
  6. Omega14
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    Omega14 Member

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    Location:
    Great Dunmow, Essex, UK
    In dreams

    One night a madman tried to steal
    my breath away, and I could feel
    his hands constrict, his fingers curl
    around my neck, and in a whirl
    I woke. My eyes had opened wide
    to find that I was safe inside
    my warm, protective, cosy bed,
    a duvet wrapped around my head.
     
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  7. Sundae
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    Sundae Contributing Member

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    Location:
    Astral Weeks
    Doppelgänger

    I guess you found that memo,
    that last straw of the season
    that I stuck onto your car
    by means of your lying windshield wipers.

    Tell me, were you as surprised as I was
    when you saw the slight shimmer
    of my corner-stone paper?
    Did it hit you out of the blue
    like a ton of bricks meeting its
    sledgehammer?
    Did it cut you the way you cut me
    when you made that right turn forever?

    Or were you still busy with your smile
    and wrapped around in your little reverie
    filled to the brim
    being smothered by pleasure?

    I reckon you must have seen your maker
    when you first found that letter
    'cause you were pale as a ghost,
    lacking in luster
    and drained of all that wicked color.

    Your moonbeam-green turned yellow.
    Your cherry-red turned drab.
    I saw the seasons change -
    at being hurled through an arctic tundra.

    But still,
    I hope you found what you were looking for;
    that day out on the terrain.
    When you got out of your car
    and made your final mistake.

    Your damning mistake.
     
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