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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 (144) - Changes

    Discussion in 'Monthly Poetry Contest Archives' started by Banzai, Mar 14, 2011.

    Poetry Contest
    One Hundred and Forty Four

    It's 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
    • Poems must be at least seven lines in length.
    • 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 21st March 2011.

    The voting stage will begin immediately, and will be open for three days, ending on Thursday 24th March 2011.

    And this week's theme is: Changes

    The next (145th) contest's theme will be: Odes, and it will be opened on Monday 21st March 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. ~BORNtoWRITE~

    ~BORNtoWRITE~ New Member

    Jan 22, 2011
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    Its Time for a Change​
    Yesterday will never be tomorrow
    The reality is sweetly bitter
    Close your eyes and swallow
    You'll have new Septembers
    Don't get burnt
    By the hungry embers
    Get ready to embrace
    Your forgotten dreams
    It's time for a change ~
  3. Depressing Jester

    Depressing Jester New Member

    Mar 17, 2011
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    Beautiful Change
    I alone can see what's been left in our wake,
    In our arrogant pursuits and wasted pride,
    We have forgotten the home that sits by the lake,
    It may of had beauty but is forever a scar,
    A trivial thing, of broken nails and rotted boards,
    At first I could simply watch from afar,
    And laugh at our foolish and arrogant pride,
    But my heart, oh how it yearns for it,
    This light is so small, this burning the begs to collide,
    It travels and grows and spreads all across
    The boards are blazing, the nails are melting,
    It crumbles so fast, the beautiful chaos,
    Nothing can remain, for everything is subject to change,
    This morning this was a home, staunch and un-yielding,
    Tonight it is ash, in the most beautiful exchange.
  4. KingDerekx

    KingDerekx New Member

    Mar 10, 2011
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    Revere, MA

    pixelized biblical foes
    the reign of ungodly woes
    revolution for this?
    nothing evil ever just goes
    digitized and monetized
    the altered binary mesmerized
    the virus of life spread instantly
    infected all of us, as you can clearly see
    cross.exe is an execution file
    apocalypse.exe might take awhile
    God's computer must run on Vista
  5. Forkfoot

    Forkfoot Contributor Contributor

    Jan 27, 2008
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    Butterflies morph from worms,
    and this is very poetical,
    but they only live a few weeks after that
    before turning to ashes and sawdust
    (actually butterflies come from outer space).

    X had braces years ago,
    and couldn’t interact socially with others;
    listened to a man in flannel
    sing it’s less dangerous without the Lights
    (mulatto albino mosquito libido).

    Flowers blossom and bloom,
    and this is very poetical,
    but then they wilt and begin to rot,
    and they smell like disgusting puke
    (poppy flowers are used to make heroin and other highly addictive opiates).

    X heard whispered voices and sold drugs;
    died last month of Complications.
    They found strange items in his house
    and pictures of fantastical creatures
    (winged humanoids hammerhead whales the bastards under the bed).

    Birds learn to take to the air,
    and this is very poetical,
    but given the opportunity,
    some birds will eat human flesh
    (x found a dead bird on his patio once that had crashed into his sliding glass door and he put it in a jar and kept it for the rest of his life).

    X told his mother when he was a small child
    that he had seen an Angel.
    She cursed at him viciously; punched him in the face
    and threw him down the stairs
    (don’t you ever lie to me again).

    The sun rises every morning,
    and this is very poetical,
    but then it sets, and it’s dark and cold,
    and nothing can keep you safe
    (oh well whatever nevermind).
  6. Bay K.

    Bay K. New Member

    Mar 6, 2011
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    Young Man From Africa

    My, my, you are so black!
    My God and nature have made me dark
    Does being so black make you feel dirty and ugly?
    No more than your own looks and mind make you feel so worthy
    You are smart and confident; where are you from?
    Just a citizen of the world, but it is from Africa that I come
    That impoverished and backward continent?
    Plundered, exploited and enslaved, it is a wonder it is still existent
    But should you blame your present woes on your past plight?
    Only as much as our past woes have given you your present light
    But we have worked quite hard to get where we are
    On the backs of our poverty and stupidity to get thus far
    For an African, you reason and speak quite well
    I learn from experience and it is what I know I tell
    So, what are you doing out here, my friend?
    Trying my best my life to mend
    And what do you hope to gain out here?
    Whatever it takes to stop being in the rear
    And do you think you will succeed?
    Tired of the bottom, I will indeed
    Are there others like you in Africa?
    I am among the least of them that are
    Welcome then, and good luck, young African
    Yes, I am that adamant survivor, that resourceful one, who knows he can --he can
  7. RobT

    RobT Active Member

    Oct 22, 2009
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    Stoke-on-Trent, England
    That's Life

    Break a ten, then break a five,
    Spend to keep the dream alive.
    Earn it spend it, earn some more,
    Like an endless revolving door.

    Notes are gone, no one to blame,
    It's just the cost of playing the game.
    Life is life, but isn't it strange,
    When all we're left with is just change.
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