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  1. Torana

    Torana Contributor Contributor

    Mar 13, 2007
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    The 87th Poetry Contest: Dumpster Diving

    Discussion in 'Monthly Poetry Contest Archives' started by Torana, Jun 27, 2009.

    Poetry Contest.

    The commandments:

    * The poem must be based on the theme I set if not it will not be entered.
    * Only one poem per member or they will be deleted and you will be stricken from the contest.
    * No editing a poem once it is submitted without prior permission. So please PM me before you edit you poems or I will have no choice but to delete your poem without warning.
    * The poems are to be entered into this thread.
    * No soliciting votes. Do not ask people to vote for you, or attempt to cheat the system. You will be caught, and then I'll have to think of some suitable punishment for you.
    * Put the title at the beginning of your poem. You will receive a PM and have 24 hours to put in a title, or it will be removed and you will be notified by PM.
    * Each poem must be a minimum of 7 lines, if you do not write a minimum of seven lines, it will be removed.
    * You are not permitted to post this piece of poetry within the forum under any circumstances, until such a time that the contest comes to an end and voting has begun.

    Failure to abide by these rules (subject to change) will result in a PM and your poem being removed from the contest. These are not hard rules to follow.

    The entry stage will end in five days, on the 2nd of July, 2009, whereupon voting will be opened.

    The voting stage will end after three days, on the 5th of July, 2009. The winner will have their poem stickied in the Poetry Thread for a week following their victory.

    This week's theme (courtesy of red matrix) is: Dumpster Diving
    Be imaginative and have fun :) Please PM any suggestions for future themes to myself and they will be used in the order in which they are received.


    PS. Any questions which haven't been answered in this thread should be directed to me. Do NOT post questions in the thread. Any post which is not a valid contest entry will be deleted.
  2. vangoghsear

    vangoghsear New Member

    Dec 17, 2007
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    The Intrepid Wonder’s Seeker

    Stands the Intrepid
    “Wonders” Seeker,
    poised to gather
    “another man’s treasure”

    in his quest
    to salvage booty
    from the briny,
    metal nether.

    Time is pressing
    him to action!
    He holds his nose
    and dives on in.

    because the hour
    is seven thirty
    (they come at eight
    to collect the bin).
  3. zebra

    zebra Active Member

    Jan 8, 2009
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    He's Trash.

    He's trash.

    He hurts you.
    He lies to you.
    He spends you.

    He's trash.

    He uses you.
    He's lying when
    he says
    he loves you.

    He's trash.

    He's got no feelings.
    He's greedy.
    He'll kill you.

    He's trash.

    He makes you afraid.
    He makes you feel guilty.
    He really doesn't love you.

    Why? He's trash.
  4. BrokenWing

    BrokenWing New Member

    Jun 25, 2009
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    The Throw-Away

    That's what I do, see?

    I get it out again and again

    and ain't nobody lookin' or

    wonderin' so

    I pick to the bottom

    find that old beat-up shoe

    every time see if it still fits

    is what I do

    just hangin' on to somethin'

    see? but nobody knows

    even got my name

    scratched in the paint

    and folks walk by 'cause

    it's just a goddamn dumpster

  5. Gannon

    Gannon Contributor Contributor

    Jan 15, 2007
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    Manchester, England

    Amidst dancing dust,
    slick synthesised-bloom,
    marked mannequin-parts and twice-broken hearts,
    with some disembowelled former-Christmas-must,
    your sunken gem drowns in seas of costume.

    Amongst a wood-wormed world of nowhere-gates,
    warped oak-beams,
    gilt cornice and undone seams,
    with the last, small shred of brother-come-good,
    your soaked, second-place star smoulders,
    and waits.
  6. SisterShirk

    SisterShirk New Member

    Jun 29, 2009
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    The Pear

    The Pear

    “Today we are pirates” says father to son
    “We’re searching for treasure! Now won’t that be fun?”

    An uncertain smile with an uncertain grin
    Gives son to his father -adventure begins-

    “Now see here, first mate, I’ll show you the trick
    You reach down in here and give it a flick”

    The father’s great arms stretched way down inside
    And moved the large pieces of garbage aside

    “There now, you see? This green thing’s our ship!
    Climb up inside, careful, don’t slip…”

    A little blue coat, with a little blue boy,
    Jumped into his ship and shouted with joy,

    “Look, Dad, just look! Just look over there!
    Whole, ripe, uneaten, a beautiful pear!”​
  7. Mateius

    Mateius Member

    Jun 13, 2008
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    Diving into Uncertainty

    The murky depths call to me,
    I witness the future in its loathsome appearance.
    My big break, my shining moment.
    The gods cling on to me
    desperate to turn me away
    to deny me my greatest opportunity.

    They cover up their hatred and disgust
    with lies of comfort
    their worried expressions
    their desperate wails.
    For my safety they say!
    Where have they been all my life?

    I tear myself from them,
    violent revenge filling my every muscle
    and they flee back to their immortal palaces.
    Balancing on the edge of life itself
    I look to my guardians
    and await their consent.

    With a slight nod from my master
    I leave reality behind and begin the descent,
    falling towards my salvation.
    An inch of fear almost consumes me
    but ultimately fails its task.
    Joy is too powerful,
    a heroic warrior that will never fall.

    The spring in my step
    sets this body in motion.
    A slow beautiful movement,
    that captures the hearts and souls
    of the unloved soulless,
    pushing me into angelic grime.

    Bursting forth from the gentle abyss,
    I look towards those that can save me.
    Four numbers lift my spirits,
    and a friendly dirty face offers
    a cold dreamlike liquid in a paper bag
    with a golden medal made of butter packets.

    My name will be remembered for a thousand years.
    Like those of famous fighters that shine in glory.
    For none have performed a dive such as that,
    and none shall ever again.
    Doesn't this make it all worth it?
    I am not useless to the world.
    I will never be forgotten.
    Will I?
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