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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 (99) - Haiku

    Discussion in 'Bi-Weekly Poetry Contest Archives' started by Banzai, Oct 3, 2009.

    Weekly
    Poetry Contest
    Ninety Nine






    Number 99!


    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 last seven days, meaning it will close on Friday 9th October 2009.

    The voting stage will begin immediately, and will be open for three days, ending on Monday 12th October 2009.


    And this week's theme is: Haikus

    Please feel free to enter a poem that is a series of haikus, or just one. I'm removing the line requirement for this one, obviously. They can be about anything you like, but please use proper haiku form.

    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. Gannon
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    Gannon Contributing Member Contributor

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    Manchester, England
    Autumn Discontent

    A forest of leaves,
    unlocked and free to scatter
    like gossip adrift.
     
  3. Drdoggerel
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    Drdoggerel New Member

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    Acer

    Jagged maple leaves
    Like comic book explosions
    in scarlet; kapow!
     
  4. Sabreur
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    Sabreur Contributing Member Contributor

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    Location:
    At the combination pizza hut and taco bell
    Of Mayhem and Motorcycles

    Might made manifest
    in chrome and steel and thunder;
    young god, robed in black.
     
  5. Aquarelle99
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    Aquarelle99 Member

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    Location:
    Twin Cities, MN
    Morning on the Festival Grounds

    Dew cools my sandaled
    feet. The rooster’s crow carries
    through the quiet grounds.

    The cast emerges
    from the campground as I prep
    my booth for cannon.

    I’ve already raised
    the awning and swept the floor;
    Cast call begins late.

    It ends with a song:
    Swing low, sweet char-i-o-ot…
    I hide my Coke can

    kill the radio
    and break out my faire accent.
    It is almost time.

    Boom! The cannon blows
    At nine. Huzzah! The village
    Comes to life again.
     
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