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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 (194) - Siren

    Discussion in 'Bi-Weekly Poetry Contest Archives' started by Banzai, May 28, 2012.

    Poetry Contest
    One Hundred and Ninety Four

    Poetry time!

    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 4th June 2012.

    The voting stage will begin immediately, and will be open for three days, ending on Thursday 7th June 2012.

    And this week's theme is: (courtesy of Spiderfingers) Siren

    The next (195th) contest's theme will be (courtesy of chatterbox): Breakdown, and it will be opened on Monday 4th June 2012.

    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. seelifein69

    seelifein69 Active Member

    Jun 20, 2011
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    SW Florida
    Encompassing Lust

    Seducing hero or man
    With effervescing lust
    Having mermaid’s flashy tail
    And supple overflowing bust

    The definition of nymph beauty
    Seated upon thunderous rock
    Men are but moths to flame,
    Steering helms with their cock

    Straight towards the direction
    Of their overwhelming desire
    Feeling their body yearning
    With fierce gluttonous fire

    The closer they sail to seeded glory
    And know they’ve fallen into snare
    They cheer and imagine the Siren
    And die drowning without a care.
  3. Sword

    Sword Member

    Apr 23, 2012
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    Massachusetts, USA
    Empty Prayers and Burning Pages

    A cold and dreary night,
    a siren wails its eerie tune,
    the town is rustled with a fervor,
    as shadows flit across the moon.

    Sitting in cold basements,
    men hold their children wishing they could fight,
    women pray to an unknown god,
    hoping for one display of his might.

    A throaty roar streaks over the house,
    bombs strike near the house with an impact for the ages,
    answered prayers for one cold dreary night,
    thoughts of Berlin with the pyres of burning pages.
  4. Cogito

    Cogito Former Mod, Retired Supporter Contributor

    May 19, 2007
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    Massachusetts, USA

    With a voice like blackest ocean depths
    she sings. Men stop to listen, drinks forgot
    enslaved, caught in the magic of her
    eyes, her hips, the summons of her lips

    A young man brash and full of pride, sees in her
    another toy. One more nightly woo and tumble and
    sayonara. Brazen hunter is ensnared and he
    believes she is the prey, charmed and won at closing time.

    She lets him lead her to his den. And then
    she is seduced, in truth seducer. Takes him in and all his
    soul. A lifeless husk she leaves behind. Morning brings
    a manager with shattered nerves, as approaching siren wails.
    1 person likes this.
  5. Owen8

    Owen8 Member

    May 14, 2012
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    Fibonacci Face

    Her face is golden, glowing
    A body ever hinting
    A fault never showing

    Her vibrant raiment vexes the eye
    Hair spirals in three coils about her face
    To look away I dare not try

    A face to make Fibonacci proud
    Leonardo Pisano surely mused over her
    He saw through the world’s shallow shroud

    Only one goal I desire
    The pursuit of such an exquisite sylph
    So elusive and dire

    Though zero chance I have of seeing her again
    I reflect on two memories of her
    The overbearing smile and hand on her chin

    The fifth second of blessed sight upon her
    I ate with aching
    For the moment is a blur

    I tell her “A Fibonacci face, you have”
    And understanding did not play across her features
    And I weep because I never heard her laugh
  6. P R Crawford

    P R Crawford Member

    May 25, 2012
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    The Siren’s Song

    Brave Man! How can a simple song of love
    Instill such fear in you that you must lash
    Yourself forever forward? You’re no dove,
    You say. But life is more than gore and ash.
    You say it’s for protection of what’s right
    And for what’s yours by rights. The end result
    Is ages of destruction, loss of light
    And all so from your throne you can exult.
    Understand! History will forever spill
    From past arenas drenched with blood and doom.
    And we know, no, you’ll never stop until
    You’re standing at the door to your own tomb.
    No, not until you roll aside that stone
    To find this fear you feel is not your own.
  7. Solar

    Solar Contributing Member Contributor

    Jan 27, 2011
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    A Brown Jubilee


    I recognise you. You’re the friendly tiger.
    You captured man’s heart
    long before he made the plough
    or sounded the ram’s horn.
    Is there survival value
    in your retractable claws,
    in your pink tongue panting the sunshine,
    in the way you purr gold?


    Do not be alarmed. Really, honestly, I do not bite.
    I merely spin a yarn of worlds
    on easiness, so rocks become armchairs, plump, cushioned.
    Come, sit close so that my breath mingles with your brain.
    I’ll transform you. Hero. I can make you king
    promote you to god
    weave anything you want


    No thanks. I’ll be turning on my heel
    different ways, for I know a legend-teller who reckons
    your kind once ruled the Rooster island;
    you grew strong, sun-drunk, magical; sailors found you
    chanting tales of temptation unto doom
    you ate them, all the men – not like air –
    but like chocolate cake or brioche, or any other sweet-bread.
    1 person likes this.
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