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  1. Banzai

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

    Mar 31, 2007
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    Reading, UK

    Weekly Poetry Contest (170) - Innocence

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

    Poetry Contest
    One Hundred and Seventy

    One hundred and seventy, eh? And to think, I can remember the very early days.

    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 seven days, closing on Monday 14th November 2011.

    The voting stage will begin immediately, and will be open for three days, ending on Thursday 17th November 2011.

    And this week's theme is: (courtesy of Jetshroom) Innocence

    The next (171st) contest's theme will be (courtesy of RusticOnion): Loss of Self, and it will be opened on Monday 14th November 2011.

    Be imaginative, have fun, and get writing.


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

    breakfasttime New Member

    Nov 4, 2011
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    Marram grass hangs limp
    over the fence,
    the sand dunes are still,silent,content.

    The boarded walkways
    are dusted with sand
    but splintered with winters lament.

    Under amber skies
    nearing the night,
    people scatter,to and fro,
    as taunting sunshine comes and goes.

    The barbecue smoke
    entangling the air,
    some childish dream
    fulfilled somewhere.
    2 people like this.
  3. Novemberfire11

    Novemberfire11 New Member

    Sep 17, 2010
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    The first fall of woman

    Finally, through the trees, the light came
    And washed away all the notions you had laid there
    The night before.
    Finally my heart lay bare,
    Face up for all the world to see,
    Exactly what you did to me,
    Again and again.
    Tore me open
    By the tire swing,
    And then shoved me up toward the endless sky.
    I saw the moon,
    I wondered why she was exposed so soon,
    She wondered this about me too.
  4. Gilborn

    Gilborn Member

    Nov 6, 2011
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    Austin, TX
    Christmas Time

    Christmas Time

    The brick house, with the snow covered oak tree in the front yard
    The man's eyes are lit with rage, like the Christmas lights
    The boy of eight laying on the floor, belly up like a beaten dog.

    Thought patterns become erratic, the smell of fear fills the air
    The man takes the wooden paddle from the coffee table, gripping upon it like a baseball bat
    The boy pleads with his step-father to stop, crawling away on the floor like a rat from a hawk.

    The wooden paddle is simple in nature, but capable of inflicting such pain
    The man, filled with joy, smiles intently at the boy
    The boy crying for his mothers help backs into a wall.

    The wooden paddle comes down quickly
    The man is aiming for the boys back, and makes contact with great accuracy and precision
    The boy goes limp with pain thinking his back has been broken, reaching his hand out for his mother.

    The new red whelps being to form over old black knots
    The man continues his attack relentlessly, fire burning in his eyes
    The boy unable to move passes out on the floor.
  5. chatterbox

    chatterbox Member

    Aug 13, 2011
    Likes Received:
    United Kingdom
    innocent child

    Screams echo through the night,
    the screams of a girl,
    a girl paralysed by fright
    lying in a bloodbath
    such a horrific sight.

    An innocent girl,
    one of many victims of war,
    her hair in delicate curls
    a pair of eyes took in the horrific sight
    his ters leaked onto her ear-ring pearls.

    An innocent child,
    trapped in a predators' world
    before her death she simply smiled,
    a child that never did cry,
    even in rage she never became wild.
  6. DoYouSeeWhatIsee

    DoYouSeeWhatIsee New Member

    Nov 9, 2011
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    Is there innocence?

    Is innocence an infant or your grandma?
    Or an elegant animal such as the manta?
    Is innocence decided by our figure called Santa?
    If you are innocent are you evil or good?
    Or are you neither
    No way to know which one is the right hood?
    Do you have to be one with nature,
    One with the Wood?
    But doesn't a baby cause such pain
    Making parents make sure it grows a proudful mane?
    And does elegance make up for the food it's slain?
    What if you only make presents fall like rain
    For those who have Christian blood in their vein?
    Innocence is supposed to be complete
    Not halfway or a quarter,
    You must be all the way down in your seat
    You cannot buy diamonds or have relationship pleasure
    In fact, you cannot even eat meat
    This is your diet
    Water, vegetables, fruits, and wheat
    So now are wolves providing for their cubs
    Guilty of a most terrible of terrible feats?
    Men who never tell lies
    Who respect you
    But still look in your eyes
    And if you do something bad and don't say any whys
    than you are a evil-doer, one who never cries
    So if you are innocent, doesn't it mean nothing flies?
    All you are able to do is sit there with sighs
    But then you make the air feel bad for making you bored
    And you just lost the only goal you ever have scored
    Innocence is an impossible standard to motivate morality
    So the Princes can rule unruly men in their principality
    And now walk away
    It may not make you feel gay
    If its true to say
    That innocence is a nay
    And an impossible way.
  7. ferociousimplosion

    ferociousimplosion New Member

    Oct 27, 2011
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    Colorado Springs, CO
    Am I To You?

    Am I sacred?
    Am I fragile?
    I feel cold and soft and pale.
    Like a porcelain doll,
    A thousand years of value on her head.
    I am a temple for the soul
    To make a home and rest
    And then caress
    The stillness of the heart ensuing movememt of the mind.
    A touch of beaded silk upon the beast of human parts.
    Am I?
    Do I feel this way to you?

    I am frozen,
    With this brush of flesh,
    And breeze of breath.
    The sweetness in this pool of souls.

    Am I?
    Do I feel this way to you?
  8. Prophetsnake

    Prophetsnake Contributing Member

    Oct 5, 2011
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    Tarnished and tattered,
    A bicycle left in the shed for year after year.
    The rust creeping surely

    Stuck in a suitcase
    Left in the bottom amongst the debris and old buttons
    And when found discarded.

    Sold for a pittance
    Traded for some toy that was shiny when it was new
    And now is forgotten.
  9. seelifein69

    seelifein69 Active Member

    Jun 20, 2011
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    SW Florida
    21 and UP

    Flashing lights on the Strip, 3AM.
    When the delinquents
    come out to play.
    Where nothing pure remains.

    From the streets
    the sort pushes through.
    Leaving the filth of the track
    behind, they were in Heaven.

    Girls in pure white
    dance exposed for
    the unique attention of a
    Green Man with tips.

    They swing, they swallow.
    For a grand you can
    take them into the back room.
    Where sick dreams are fufilled.

    Ecstasy and remorse.
    Everyone comes to
    get that feeling, in a club
    called, strictly, Innocence.
  10. Cacian

    Cacian Banned

    Oct 25, 2011
    Likes Received:
    In No CENCE at All

    Inclination pales
    Nothing to say
    Central debate
    Celest is right,
    Intended wrath
    Nedlessly spun
    Novelty strikes
    Inside and
    Cupidly dressed,
    Extremely rare
    Newly befriended
    Clever intentioned
    Exceed in tendum!!
    Innocence is,
    something to say
    when words are thrown
    vital and fast
    thoughless but fair,
    countless amounts
    trapped in despair
    designer wear!
    colours are sound
    when stood up straight
    Innocence has,
    sharpended the cut
    in style and crisp
    fit for a king.
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